When I met with Moreno, he had just moved to his workspace a month before and had taken a conscious direction on how he would set up the newfound territory. He had shared his previous studio with his collaborator Ernesto Oroza, who Moreno described as more prone to hoarding objects. In addition to their individual practices, the pair work together investigating unintended readymade sculptures within the Miami cultural landscape, such as inventive methods for mounting stereo speakers in Little Haiti and mass-produced, pastel-hued garden ornaments destined for prefab dwellings(more here). A trace of their collaborative work was in the front room next to the sofa—-stools created from the residue of one of their installations.

The new studio we were standing in was a ground floor building shared with the artists Beatriz Monteavaro and Gavin Perry. The warehouse space was vast and lacked division lines between their work areas. Along one wall, Moreno’s portion was kept unusually ascetic compared to most studios I have seen.

He commented on how this austerity was a departure from his past studio habitats. “I’m trying to make it a concentrated space where it’s not about super-personalizing it or having things that somehow signify me.” He pointed to the plastic sheeting on the ground. (pictured at right) “When this gets a little bit dirtier it will just come off and I’ll put down a new one. It’s not like I’m attached to the stains. I’m trying to make this a super-stoic workplace.”

Moreno, a painter, is known for his psychedelically patterned abstractions. However, the series he had been working on the day we met was of large monochromatic panels. In tandem with his art practice, Moreno is a curator, an avid art writer, and is the founder of the non-profit press [NAME] Publications, which publishes artists books and has recently, with the publication of Dark Nights of the Universe, moved into theory.

On my way out, I noticed a message tacked to the wall above his coat hook:—“A WILLING SACRIFICE FOR SATAN”(pictured below)—which had been given to him by the artist Sue de Beer. “It’s kind of like how you start the day,” Moreno laughed. “Or, that’s how you leave. You’ve already made the sacrifice. Now you can go!”

View Moreno’s site

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