Kevin Quiles Bonilla

Caribbean artists have long been at the forefront of art-making, activism, and critical conversations around liberation, anti-imperialism, self-determination, and sovereignty. The region itself has served as an experimental ground for Western powers—its lands and people subjected to centuries of exploitation, from resource extraction to racist policies, political destabilization, and capitalist ventures designed to profit off its labor and culture.

Yet, the Caribbean has never been passive. Artists like Renee Cox (Jamaica), Coco Fusco (Cuba), and Pierre Michel Jean (Haiti) have not only defended their homelands but also asserted their identities through radical, uncompromising artistic practices. Their work stands as a testament to the resilience of Caribbean bodies and histories.

The Caribbean, in all its complexity, stands as both a looking glass and a portal—an urgent reflection of resistance and a visionary threshold to what is possible. It reveals how marginalized communities, forged by the violent legacies of colonialism, have learned to organize, subvert, and reclaim power in the face of oppressive systems that continue to extract, exploit, and erase. Yet beyond its defiance, the Caribbean is also an active dream—a landscape of radical beauty, community building, and boundless imagination.

It teaches us that another reality is not just necessary but already in motion, sculpted by the hands of those who refuse to forget, who build joy as a form of survival, and who insist that a kinder, freer future belongs to all lands marked by colonization.

I had the pleasure of interviewing Puerto Rican artist Kevin Quiles Bonilla, whose practice is deeply embedded in this lineage of resistance, imagination, and storytelling. Bonilla's work is a striking synthesis of beauty and critical thought—an empirical analysis of Puerto Rican existence. Spanning photography, performance, and installation, his work navigates themes of psychology, family, tradition, heritage, and cultural preservation. Throughout our conversation, his love for Puerto Rico was palpable. His art is not just an act of documentation but one of devotion—a vision for Puerto Rico as a vessel of innovation, inquiry, beauty, and freedom.

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STEVEN BABOUN: Growing up in San Juan, Puerto Rico, how did your early environment and cultural heritage influence your decision to pursue art?

KEVIN QUILES BONILLA: I was born in San Juan but raised between Vega Alta and Vega Baja, two small towns located about 30-40 minutes from the capital. From a young age, my mother took my sister and me to various cultural institutions on the island.

We visited places like the Children's Museum in Old San Juan, the Museum of History, Anthropology, and Art at the University of Puerto Rico (where I would later complete my undergraduate studies), and the Museum of Art of Puerto Rico. When I was around 12 or 13, I took a painting course at the School of Plastic Arts and Design in Old San Juan. This school is located right in front of El Morro Fortress, a colonial landmark that has greatly influenced my current work. During that class, I realized that painting was not for me. Later, while in elementary school, I participated in a course at the Taller de Fotoperiodismo (Workshop for Photojournalism), which introduced me to photography as a creative practice. As I eventually enrolled at the university on the island, I chose to pursue a Bachelor's degree in Fine Arts with an emphasis on Photography. I had no idea I would encounter a variety of other mediums and possibilities along the way.

SB: Your work spans photography, performance, and installation. How do you determine which medium best conveys a particular concept or narrative?

KQB: I identify as an interdisciplinary artist rather than a multidisciplinary one because I believe my engagements with these mediums are simultaneously present in my body of work as a whole. Just like our identities and ideas, these mediums do not exist in isolation; they intersect and influence each other. Whether explicitly or implicitly, photography, performance, and installation always inform my approach to creating work, as it is through these lenses that my ideas take form.

SB: Which artists, movements, or cultural narratives have had the most profound impact on your creative development?

KQB: Two significant moments have shaped the current trajectory of my practice. The first was migrating to the United States in 2016 to pursue my graduate studies at Parsons The New School of Design in New York. This change in environment offered me a new perspective on my home island and its realities. Experiencing my home of 23 years from the outside provided a new vantage point.

The second moment, which I consider to be the most significant, was witnessing the devastation of Puerto Rico just over a year after I moved, due to Hurricane María in 2017. This disaster was a collective catalyst, marking a pivotal point in the island's history. It deepened the sense of community between those living on the island and those in the diaspora while also resurfacing the complexities of our colonial relationship with both the Puerto Rican and U.S. governments.

Hurricane María was a profoundly traumatic and tragic natural disaster. Many of the long-term effects that followed could have been mitigated had it not been for governmental inadequacies. This, in my view, was the real disaster. On a personal level, this event deeply impacted me, as my entire family remained on the island during the hurricane. The memory of the storm and its aftermath continues to linger today.

SB: Your art delves into themes of power and colonialism. How do you approach the challenge of representing these complex issues through your work?

KQB: At the core of my work is the connection between my personal experiences and larger societal dialogues. Using as a framework my transits between Puerto Rico and the United States, along with the expansive colonial relationship between these two places, I explore how personal experiences inform collective understanding and vice versa. I consider the various intersections that shape my identity, including my lived experiences as a Puerto Rican, a queer individual, a migrant, and a disabled person. I aim to present these experiences through research and visual iconographies to engage in more collective conversations about these issues. The macro and micro perspectives are always interconnected.

SB: Your recent solo exhibition at Wave Hill Public Garden and Cultural Center in 2022 showcased new dimensions of your art. What were the central themes of this show, and how did the setting influence your presentation?

KQB: A tropic squall blew in, while you dried in the sand was my first large-scale installation, curated by Eileen Jeng Lynch at Wave Hill in the Bronx. This was the first time I got to explore the imagery and paraphernalia of the beach, as both a site of leisure and political resistance (at the time, and still today, many beaches on the island are being privatized as more coastlands have been purchased by investors from the US). I was particularly interested in using the beach towel as the material and surface for the focal point of the show. Growing up, I remember going to Old San Juan and seeing many souvenir shops where they would sell beach towels that often contained a very stereotypical imagery of the island. Intensely bright colors, images of tropical flowers, palm trees, and native fauna, specific symbolism of the island, and a utopian language. I was interested in this language of colonial expectation and commodification as part of the visitor's economy. I decided to appropriate this language to present recent moments that have continuously shed light on Puerto Rico's position as a colony of the US. Referencing moments such as the passing of Hurricane Maria, the many protests during the summer of 2019, and the earthquakes of 2020, I use this everyday material as a tapestry of catalyst moments within the recent history of the island and its people.

SB: Collaborating with Zaq Landsberg on "For centuries, and still…(anticipated completion)" marked your first public artwork. How did this partnership come about, and what message do you hope the piece conveys to its audience?

KQB: I met my friend Zaq while we were both residents of the LMCC Workspace Residency in Lower Manhattan in 2019. He had been creating public artwork for nearly ten years across various boroughs of the city. As the residency was nearing its end, I saw him working on a piece he presented in Harlem before our collaboration. Titled "Reclining Liberty," this artwork was a replica of the Statue of Liberty resting on a lawn in Morningside Park. I immediately recognized where our practices intersected and was intrigued by his use and redefinition of U.S. iconographies infused with a touch of humor. After our residency concluded, Zaq reached out to discuss the possibility of collaborating on a joint public artwork. The result was For centuries, and still…(anticipated completion).

This piece recreates a guard tower (or Garita, in Spanish) from the historic colonial fortresses of Old San Juan, constructed from NYC construction fencing material. Our goal was to create hybrid monument that combined historical and everyday imagery from both Puerto Rico and New York. The artwork echoes the hastily painted green plywood walls, featuring paint-sprayed "Post No Bills" stencils and everyday interventions like buffed-out graffiti and commercial posters. These elements represent a specific NYC visual language that creates a connection to Puerto Rico, highlighting its colonial legacy to the U.S. and the history of migration between the two locations. The piece was installed at the Harlem Art Park from 2022 to 2023 and on Governors Island from 2023 to 2024. It has since been donated to the organization play:groundnyc on Governors Island, where it can be enjoyed by the visiting children.

SB: Participating in various residencies, such as the LMCC Workspace Residency and the Smack Mellon Artist Studio Program, has been integral to your career. How have these experiences shaped your artistic trajectory and professional growth?

KQB: Participating in residency programs, such as the LMCC Workspace Residency and the Smack Mellon Studio Program, has been crucial for my development and growth as an artist. Having a dedicated space for my practice, especially in New York, is invaluable. I've referred to myself as a "studio nomad" because I truly rely on these residency programs to be able to continue my work. The most significant aspect of these experiences is being part of a cohort of artists. I have been fortunate to meet individuals in these programs who have become close friends and collaborators, which is essential for building a supportive community. In this setting, we can share our vulnerabilities and create a strong support system for one another.

SB: Receiving the Art Matters Artist2Artist Fellowship in 2023 is a notable achievement. How has this fellowship influenced your recent projects or opened new avenues for exploration?

KQB: This was the first time I received financial support for my work, which was crucial at that moment. I was finishing my residency at Smack Mellon and had recently left my five-year "day job" to focus more on my art practice, and I was terrified. Receiving this fellowship felt like a reassurance that I had made the right choice. Additionally, it provided me with community and resources. During that fellowship, I met Sarula Bao, who runs the risograph workshop Endless Editions. The following year, we collaborated on a zine for my solo show at Baxter Street.

SB: The theme of our upcoming issue focuses on reimagining power and cultural reclamation. How does your work contribute to redefining power structures and reclaiming cultural narratives with marginalized communities?

KQB: For this opportunity, I have chosen to feature a new body of work titled islotes, which translates to "small islands" in English. This latest project centers on the intervention of my family's archival photographs using sand, a natural material sourced from a politically charged location. While recovering these photographs from various generations in Puerto Rico, I simultaneously researched the formation of islands, particularly archipelagos—a cluster of islands, seemingly separated at the surface, but interconnected beneath the water. By acknowledging this interconnection within the Caribbean, there is a reclamation of power. I began adding layers of sand to the subjects in these photographs, family members, and myself at different stages of our lives back in Puerto Rico. I abstract their bodies with sand until a topography or "islote" forms from their silhouettes. Through this intervention, I create a connection that transcends temporality, geography, and context. At the core of this work is what it means to transform these people and memories into islands. What metaphors, resonances, and power does this provide us? My reflections on "The Unspoken Truth" lie in our connection to the land and the power we hold through our lineage, ancestry, and histories.

SB: What legacy do you hope to leave through your art, both within the Puerto Rican community and the broader global audience?

KQB: My only hope is that the work resonates with some and that it contributes even a small grain of sand to broader dialogues about belonging, resistance, and what it means to live a life. That's all I can ask for.