Temple, Tag, Flame: PichiAvo and the Poetics of Urban Classicism

By WM March 30th, 2026

Spanish street art duo PichiAvo presented a monumental installation for the Fallas de Valencia that existed for only a few days before being consumed by fire in the festival’s closing ritual. Titled “Per ofrenar” (“To Offer”), the large-scale monument was commissioned by the Borrull-Socors falla and featured in the festival’s Experimental Fallas category, which highlights more conceptual and artistic proposals within the centuries-old celebration.

Installed at Borrull Street 31 in central Valencia, the structure took the form of a classical Ionic temple inspired by the Temple of Athena Nike in Athens—an architectural reference that reflects the duo’s signature fusion of classical imagery with the visual language of graffiti.

In Valencia, where spectacle and ritual collapse into one another each spring during the annual Fallas, PichiAvo’s recent installation Per ofrenar staged a measured confrontation between past and present, permanence and disappearance. Drawing from the formal language of classical antiquity—most notably the temple as both an architectural and symbolic site—the artists constructed a space that functioned simultaneously as a monument, an offering, and an eventual sacrifice.

Your work is known for merging classical iconography with graffiti aesthetics. Conceptually, what does the dialogue between these two visual languages represent for you today?

It represents our own history as artists. On one side, graffiti is where we come from, we met through graffiti and it’s still a fundamental part of what we do. On the other, Mediterranean culture is deeply rooted in who we are. We are based in Valencia, and classical art has always been part of our cultural background.  We’ve always admired and studied it, especially sculpture, which has been a major source of inspiration.

The fusion of these two languages ultimately speaks about ourselves and our journey.

We also see how this combination connects with two different audiences: one more linked to history and classical culture, and another more connected to graffiti. Conceptually, our work builds a bridge between these two worlds.

Classical sculpture and mythology carry centuries of symbolic meaning. When you incorporate these references into contemporary urban contexts, how do you think their meanings shift?

We don’t think the original meanings necessarily change. What we try to do is relate these classical references to the context in which we place them.

For example, if a city has a specific symbol, history, or geographical feature, we might represent it through a mythological figure that can be naturally associated with it.

When working with myths, we sometimes reinterpret them from a contemporary perspective to express a specific idea, such as freedom or artistic inspiration. In that sense, our intention is not to alter their meaning, but to extend and reactivate it within present-day contexts.

In Per ofrenar, the installation took the form of a classical temple. What drew you to the temple as an architectural and symbolic structure for this project?

Per ofrenar means “to offer,” in the sense of making a symbolic, spiritual, or religious offering. The temple was the most natural structure to represent a space for this kind of act within our visual language.

We have always admired the Temple of Athena Nike at the Acropolis in Athens, and we felt it was the perfect architectural reference for what we wanted to create in Valencia. We adapted its proportions slightly to fit the context, and the result is the structure you’ve seen.

The balanced scale inside the monument—holding candles representing Classical Art and Graffiti—suggests equilibrium. Is balance truly the goal in your practice, or is the tension between these worlds more important?

The candles clearly reflect the duality in our work: classical art and graffiti coexisting in balance and harmony. The scale suggests equilibrium, but in reality, that balance is not always exact, and that’s completely fine.

Our work is built in layers, much like urban walls that are painted over again and again. Sometimes graffiti takes over, other times classical elements dominate.

In this specific project, the idea of balance was important from a conceptual point of view, but in our broader practice, it’s more about the ongoing dialogue -and sometimes tension- between these two worlds.

Graffiti has historically been tied to rebellion and impermanence, while classical art is associated with permanence and cultural authority. How do you negotiate these opposing legacies in your work?

It really depends on the perspective. If you look at ancient contexts like Pompeii, classical architecture and sculpture coexisted with inscriptions on walls, forms of expression that can be seen as early precedents of graffiti.

Also, even though classical sculpture has reached us through time, it was never truly permanent. The fragmentation and loss of a large part of that cultural legacy proves it.

We believe these two supposedly opposing worlds actually share more in common than it might seem. Our work explores that connection, bringing together what is often perceived as contradictory, and building bridges between two audiences that might initially appear far apart.

Your projects often operate at a monumental scale. How does scale change the way audiences physically and emotionally experience your work?

Scale has a direct impact in urban environments, it increases the chances that people encounter the work and integrate it into their daily lives.

There are places we feel a strong sense of belonging to, whether through cultural or social identity. Our murals can become part of those spaces, and therefore part of the identity of a neighborhood or a city.

As we mentioned before, many of our works are also connected to specific ideas or symbols related to a place. Over time, local communities can appropriate these images and integrate them into their own collective identity.

Fire played a central role in the lifecycle of the Fallas installation, ultimately reducing the work to ashes. How does the idea of intentional destruction affect your initial approach to making the piece?

Our work in the street has always been ephemeral, and that’s something that naturally attracts us.

In this case, the entire project was conceived as temporary from the very beginning, through the materials, the construction techniques, and all technical decisions.

We worked with traditional Fallas materials such as wood and paper, materials that historically came from surplus and discarded elements. This origin is essential to the spirit of the festival, where what is no longer useful is transformed into something meaningful, only to disappear again. The ephemeral nature of these materials was therefore not just a technical decision, but a fundamental part of the concept.

Conceptually, the candles already contained the symbolic fire of the Fallas, which would later take over the entire structure during La Cremà. In that sense, the ending was embedded in the piece from the start.