For a long time, illustration was for Genoveva Castellar a private, almost secret space. While her work as a graphic designer unfolded amid emergencies, client requests, and deliveries that could be counted in hours, drawing offered her another tempo: a time to pause, explore, and connect with what she felt.
Until that need to breathe began to point her toward a path. In illustration workshops and in the encounter with the picture book, under the guidance of her teacher Mónica Weiss, she discovered a way of narrating that moved her. “I want this for my life”, she recalls thinking. Giving space to that wish was also a way to reclaim the pleasure of creating.
A graduate of FADU-UBA, Genoveva is a graphic designer, illustrator, art director, and teacher. She illustrated Ojos de Tinta, published in Madrid by Anilina Editorial, and is the author of Habitare, published by Boris. Her visual universe blends the poetic, the symbolic, and the surreal: images that suggest, provoke questions, and leave room for the viewer to find their own story.
Returning to Junín, her hometown, also allowed her to reconnect with her roots and with small everyday gestures that feed her imagination: walking barefoot on the grass, watching birds, or discovering shapes in the clouds. In this conversation, she speaks of that journey, the houses we inhabit, and the different versions of ourselves that accompany us as we change.
From graphic design to illustration: finding a personal voice
—How did your connection with drawing and illustration begin? When did you discover that creating images was your way of expressing yourself?
—My connection with drawing and illustration was built during my years of training in Graphic Design at FADU-UBA. For a long time I worked exclusively as a graphic designer. Those in the field know what that means: constant urgency, demanding clients, and delivery times that are often counted in hours.
There came a moment when I felt saturated. I needed to find another relationship with my work, something that gave me air.
Illustration had always been with me, though for a long time it was an intimate, almost secret space I turned to for shelter and to connect with another way of creating. I began training in different workshops, and that’s when I discovered the wonderful universe of the picture book through my teacher, Mónica Weiss.
I fell in love with that world, with the narrative possibilities of images and everything that can be told without words. I remember thinking: “I want this for my life.” That was the beginning of a path that allowed me to reclaim the joy of drawing and give illustration an increasingly important place in my work.
—Your illustrations have a very personal identity. How would you define your creative universe and what things inspire you?
—Finding a personal voice was a journey. When I began training in illustration, I drew inspiration from artists like Tim Burton and Benjamin Lacombe, and I gradually discovered different ways of building worlds through images. Over time I understood that, besides looking at others’ work, I needed to find what I had to say.
People, their stories, emotions, memories, and nature inspire me. After living many years in Buenos Aires, returning to my hometown, Junín, allowed me to regain a daily relationship with the natural environment: walking barefoot on the grass, watching horses, birds, plants, or discovering shapes in the clouds. All of this nourishes my imagination.
I am drawn to the poetic, the unsettling, and the surreal. I like images with a certain ambiguity, that do not reveal everything at once and can evoke different sensations or interpretations. Once, my illustration teacher told me that I liked drama, and I think there was some truth to that! I’m interested in that tension between beauty and the strange, between what is familiar and what unsettles us a little.
I believe my creative universe arises from the intersection of what I observe, what I feel, and what I imagine. I don’t seek to represent reality as it is, but to transform it to find other ways of looking at it.
—In Buena Yunta you present illustrations with evocative titles like The House I Was, Silence of the Sea, and In the Depths. What stories and emotions lie behind these works?
—These works emerged from some poems a friend brought me for a book project. When I illustrate a text, I try not just to represent what the words say, but to contribute another reading, an emotion, or a new meaning. I’m interested in expanding the text’s universe rather than merely describing it.
In that meeting between poetry and image appear my own associations and emotions. The titles express that poetic and suggestive universe that draws me: images that build an atmosphere and leave space for each person to complete the meaning from their own experience.
—What place do memories, personal experiences, and emotions occupy in your illustrations? Do you feel that each work tells something about you?
—I believe my experiences are present in what I do, though not always consciously or directly. Sometimes my own memories surface; other times, something I observed, an experience someone told me about, or a situation that moved me.
I like observing and listening to others. There are stories of people I care about, admire, or simply spark my curiosity and lead me to imagine what it would be like to be in their place, to feel what they feel, or to go through what they are experiencing. In a way, I try to make that experience my own to discover from where to tell it through an image.
Although an illustration may not be autobiographical, there is always something of my own view in it: my sensitivity, my associations, and the things that worry or move me. Creating is also a way of relating to the world and to others, of observing carefully and trying to understand what is sometimes hard to express in words.
Creating, seeking, and letting oneself be surprised
—What is your creative process like? Does an image, an idea, an emotion, or a story that you need to tell appear first?
—My creative process doesn’t follow a single direction. Sometimes it begins with a sketch or a form that arouses my curiosity; other times with a question, a memory, a personal or someone else’s experience, something I observe, read, or hear that drives me to create.
When I begin, I don’t necessarily know where I will end up. The image transforms along the way, and I try to stay attentive to the new ideas and associations that appear while I draw. Often I need to make things to discover what I’m thinking or feeling.
That is how Habitare was born, during the pandemic. I drew without a defined project, until a question emerged: “Does the house take my shape, or do I take the shape of my house?” That question opened a path that ended up becoming a book.
I think creating is also about letting yourself be guided by intuition and allowing the work to surprise you.
—You are a graphic designer, illustrator, and teacher. How do these three facets converse with each other? What does teaching bring to your own creativity?
—They are different facets, but they are very connected in my journey. Design gave me tools to think visually, organize ideas, work with composition, and understand how images build meaning. Illustration allowed me to explore my own voice and develop a more personal, narrative, and expressive language.
Teaching keeps me in constant contact with experimentation, questions, and the different ways of solving a visual problem. Teaching means guiding each student in their search, without imposing a particular way of doing. That also reminds me that creating is about researching, making mistakes, trying, and discovering.
I believe the three disciplines share something fundamental: the ability to communicate and build meaning through the visual. Each gives me different tools and perspectives, and that exchange enriches my work.
—You participated in the Creá el póster de Puro Diseño 2026 contest with a proposal titled The Design Happens While We Seek. What did you want to convey and what does that search process represent for you?
—With this poster I wanted to focus on that moment when an idea is still taking shape and we do not yet know exactly where it will lead. I was interested in showing design as a living process, made of trials, errors, intuitions, and discoveries.
The proposal rests on the idea that seeking is an essential part of design. In both illustration and object design, an idea can transform along the journey and end up becoming something very different from what we initially imagined.
That is why I chose that title: because design doesn’t happen only when we reach a result, but also in everything that happens while we try to find it.
—What led you to transform your illustrations into prints to decorate spaces? What do you feel when one of your works becomes part of a person’s home and daily life?
—I’m interested in my illustrations transcending paper and finding a place in people’s daily lives. Therefore, in addition to making prints reproducing my work, I bring my images into other spaces through mural painting, in bedrooms as well as in commercial spaces.
Working at another scale lets me explore how an image can transform a space and dialogue with those who inhabit it. I like to think that my images can accompany people and become part of their spaces, their memories, and their stories.
The personal gaze and the stories that inhabit us
—In a world shaped by technology and artificial intelligence, what value do you think authorial illustration has today?
—I don’t know where AI advances will take us or how they will transform the world of illustration. It could be a useful tool and produce images that awaken emotions in who looks at them. But I wonder if an image is only what we see or if it also encompasses everything that happened for it to exist.
In a world that seems to push us to do everything faster, I’m interested in reclaiming the value of time and experience. Not everything that matters can be measured in terms of efficiency. Sometimes the meaning lies precisely in the journey, in what we learn while trying to reach a place we didn’t even know existed.
In my work, that journey is a fundamental part of what motivates me: I wouldn’t want to miss everything that happens while I create.
I believe authorial illustration carries part of how we are in the world: a singular gaze, made of experiences, memories, questions, and sensitivity. For me, its value resides in that personal gaze and in all that lies behind each image: the journey, the decisions, the search, and the experience of the person who creates it.
—If you had to choose one illustration that represents who you are today, which would it be and why? What projects would you like to realize at this stage?
—I would choose The House I Was, because it connects with my history, with the places I lived, and with the different versions of myself I built over time.
For me, the house is much more than a physical space. It is a place where memories, affections, and experiences are kept; where early bonds are formed and many of the things we carry with us later are built, even when we leave. Returning to Junín, my hometown, also meant reconnecting with a part of me, with my roots and with some of those early ways of looking at the world.
I believe that, in a sense, we are all the people we were, and none of those versions disappears completely: they coexist within us, they transform, and they accompany us.
In this new phase, I would like to continue developing my personal work, create new illustrated books, undertake murals, and find opportunities to share my work with other audiences. But above all, I would like to keep exploring, learning, and allowing myself to change, without losing curiosity or the desire to discover what new forms my work might take.
You can see her work here. And on her Instagram account.
