J. Lobo Hispano López: "Living in 15 square meters makes you a little more humble"

BarcelonaJ. Lobo Hispano López (Barcelona, ​​2003) was born and raised in the Gràcia neighborhood, where in recent years he has witnessed the disintegration of "the entire neighborhood life." The impact of tourism and the housing crisis are the recurring themes in his short but already remarkable work as a comic book author: first, the comic strip. Tourism and utopia, included in Vignette 5 (Windows, 2025), and now 15 square meters, the brand-new winner of the ARA Prize for Catalan Comics 2025, which readers will be able to read in early 2026 in Panel 6

The title of the winning comic refers to the size of the studio apartment where you lived in Paris last year. What's it like living in 15 m2?

— It's an experience that's easier to get used to than I imagined, especially if you're a student, because you spend a lot of time away from home, in libraries, university cafeterias, going to the movies, or out in bars. In the end, your home is practically your base of operations. Living in 15 m² It makes you a little more humble.Because you have your laundry hanging next to the bed, which is also where you cook, make video calls, and work from home; it's pretty awful. But at least it's not like living in 9 square meters, which is common among some of my friends.

What are you doing in Paris?

— I'm in my second year of a master's program in international governance and diplomacy. I chose this program because I'm interested in cultural diplomacy, especially in conflict situations, and I'm currently doing a curricular internship at UNESCO in a unit that deals with these topics.

How did you decide on the theme of the comic strip?

— I created the comic with the intention of entering the ARA competition, which is for non-fiction, so I wanted it to deal with a current and political issue. Family and personal stories are very valuable, but given the current situation in Barcelona, it's important to have stories from young voices about our crises. Last year I submitted a comic about tourism, because when I returned to Barcelona after my first year in Paris, I saw that the city had changed a lot. Tourism is a very rapid and current crisis, and the same is true for housing.

The comic evokes utopian urban planning proposals such as Fourier's phalansteries or Ricard Bofill's Abraxas spaces. The paradox is that they have become almost dystopian places and, at the same time, tourist attractions.

— Utopias are a topic that fascinates me. And one of the main problems with their implementation is that they've always been seen as a fixed point you can reach and stay at, where everyone is comfortable and in equilibrium. But when you try to design a utopian city, you realize that the appeal of cities is, in part, the movement generated by the existence of a center and a periphery. Because everyone wants to be where there's more cultural life, new things, and interesting activities. Therefore, designing a utopian city is a project doomed to failure, like the Abraxas spaces. You can create a city with decent housing for everyone, where everything is equal and stable, but it will be a cemetery. I think it's more important to understand that the city will always be in flux and not cling to a fixed idea, because that's when Barcelona becomes an amusement park; tourism keeps coming, and we have a toy city, where the image remains but not the people.

In last year's comic strip about tourism, you already pointed out that travel is always a central idea in utopias, and that tourism feeds on the notion that perfection is always somewhere else.

— Housing problems must be addressed alongside tourism issues. Tourism is a search for that idea of authenticity: you travel to find something genuine and natural, and when you look back and contemplate a life you consider artificial or incomplete, you feel that it lacked that essence. The problem is that, in large cities, this idea of authenticity ends up being a kitschBecause you're bringing a natural essence to a city, and this causes gentrification.

At the beginning of the comic you remember the plaque in homage to Rovira and Trias that you passed every day on your way to school, which has a quote in French from the architect: "The layout of a city is the work of time, not of the architect."

— I had walked past it a thousand times but didn't remember there being any inscription. And one day, when I was already working on the comic, I read it and it was an epiphany, because it's exactly the theme of the comic. All the idealistic projects we were talking about before always ended up failing because they don't give the city the chance to become outdated, evolve, and renew itself. And I was surprised that this basic idea was already so deeply ingrained in Barcelona's DNA, in a 19th-century project like the Eixample, which was created to solve Barcelona's housing problem. Years later, we still have the same problem, but I think we no longer have such a clear understanding of Rovira and Trias's principle.

You were discovered in Paris The Spanish hostel, the 2002 film about the life of a French Erasmus student in Barcelona, ​​which premiered here as A MadhouseThe rental problems faced by foreign students seem, from today's perspective, like a bad joke.

— People still recommend it to me, always implying that they're sensitive to the social tensions in Catalonia. It's because of that scene at the university where some Erasmus students ask to have the class in Spanish, and the professor gets angry and kicks them out. Looking back now, their only problem is housing, the apartment in the Raval neighborhood where they all live. But what surprised me most was the area around the apartment: I watched it with a friend from here, and we didn't recognize the streets of that Barcelona; they seem like another world to those born after 2000.

In the comic you share the unease you felt when you saw an advertisement on the street that said "serious 45-year-old man looking for a flat to share," especially when you projected yourself at 50 in that same situation.

— I'm someone who greatly values their privacy. I don't aspire to long-term stability, but I do want to have a choice regarding privacy. The problem is that another standard is being imposed, and we'll end up getting used to it. I'm 22 now, and I have no problem living in a very small space or sharing an apartment because I want to be in Paris and have access to certain cultural services. But the fact that at 50, someone has to fill out paperwork just to be able to rent a room in a private home seems very worrying to me.

You also link the issue of privacy to the affection you feel for the home you live in. Isn't it possible to love a shared apartment?

— I've never shared a flat; I've only lived at my parents' house or in studios or small apartments. But I do have friends who share, and sometimes I've also wanted to share a flat: going back to the example of The Spanish hostelFor me, it's a loss of privacy, but you gain the ability to personalize your apartment and the city, because with your roommates you create your own map of the city and a shared routine that fosters a family dynamic. You lose square footage, but you gain emotional connections. Similarly, being alone also involves sacrifices, but at least you gain a sense of refuge, which is sometimes necessary in a city as tough as Paris.

Your drawing has a caricatured expressiveness that reminds me of Heinz Edelmann, and the linework perhaps reminds me of Lauzier, but with a very unique personality. How have you developed your style?

— Like anyone who spends many hours drawing, I'm really excited about what you said. I want to make a small statement In favor of X and social media; I use them a lot to follow artists' accounts from all over the world, and this makes my training very eclectic. Basically, I open my feed to X's thread and scroll through images until I see a drawing I like, I download it, and then, when I'm on the train, the subway, or at home, I copy these drawings. First, I trace it, then I try to change the style a bit, and finally, I create a mix. So, my style comes from everywhere and nowhere in particular. There are illustrators I like, and for me, it's been very important to start doing life drawing sessions with models, but above all, spending hours online, selecting images, and copying them. I suppose everyone has their own way of learning, and for me, copying is very practical.

I'm surprised that you use X and not Instagram, which is usually the network of choice for illustrators.

— Because in X there is no reels And that way you don't get distracted. It's also because X has better image quality, especially if you want to copy oil paintings or highly detailed drawings. And for me, it's been easier to access illustrators from Asia through X than through Instagram, although that might be my algorithm's fault.

What influence does the history of comics have on you?

— I grew up reading the comics we had in our village, my parents' collections, which included many comics from the 80s. But what has influenced me most as an illustrator are my parents' drawings; they studied fine arts. I've looked at their drawings a lot during their studies, and I suppose some of that influence is reflected in my own work. It's also been very interesting to see their evolution as artists throughout their lives, because I've been able to look at their sketchbooks from when they were 17 or 18, but also those from when they turned 23, in their thirties, or even the ones they're making now, and that has taught me a lot about refining a style.

Your father is Andrés Hispano, a filmmaker and exhibition curator, and your mother is... Carolina López Caballerowho has directed the Xcèntric series at the CCCB and the Animac Festival in Lleida. Besides its impact on your drawing, how has the active participation of parents in the cultural fabric influenced you?

— It's an advantage, a privilege, to grow up in a family where one of the priorities was supporting any cultural activity my brother or I wanted to pursue. This doesn't mean you end up working in the cultural world, but it does mean being able to dedicate hours and hours to illustration. And the most valuable thing has been sharing time, listening to what culture means to them, which is a public act but also has a very important private dimension. I wouldn't have had this passion for making comics if I didn't know that the goal is to connect with people and create debate. And I don't care if I'm sitting at a bar, what matters is starting a conversation. 15 meters and in the comic strip before, Tourism and utopiaI choose current topics, but I avoid the exposition, the conflict, and the resolution; that is, I don't propose a direct solution. I believe it's more interesting to analyze the causes of the problem than to express my opinions on what needs to be done, which I obviously have.

You're only 22. What are your ambitions regarding comics? Do you want to make a career out of it?

— I'm still not entirely sure. I want to continue making comics, and I've discovered it's a much more malleable medium than I thought when I was reading Zipi y Zape or Mortadelo y Filemón comics. In graphic novels, I've found a very interesting way to approach politics, more accessible than in novels, but just as impactful. When you talk about the horror of brutalism, for example, an illustration conveys what you want to say much better than text. I'm certain that, after the stories I've done for the ARA Prize, I want to continue making a somewhat dense type of comic with a political message, full of references, research, and a certain intellectual rigor.