Dubbed “purgatory for artists,” Quarantine is dedicated to finding freedom through constraint. The intensive residency program takes its name from its venue: an 18th-century lazaretto off the coast of Menorca, Spain.
Built between 1793 and 1807, the fortress in the port of Mahón was a prison for sanitation, at which travelers would dock and be quarantined for a few weeks or until they recovered from disease. The facility closed about a century later, although the Gothic architecture and cemeteries that were once fundamental to its operations remain. Today, the secluded island is typically utilized as a tourist destination, event space, and the home of a mysterious residency.
Conceived in 2017 by artist Carles Gomilla, the residency program has always been experimental and emerged in various iterations before debuting in its current form in 2023 with partners Joan Taltavull, Itziar Lecea, and Darren Green. Gomilla is steadfast in his commitment to the ethos of Quarantine. Each spring and fall, he and his team invite about 60 people to the island, where they spend the week immersed in a rigorous program. The particulars of each edition are kept secret, and no phones are allowed.
This untethering allows a special kind of focus and a sense of communal vulnerability as everything that happens on the island, really does stay on the island (residents even have the opportunity to burn their work at the end of the week). The intention, the curators say, is to push artists to find their purpose, a task they undertake through a carefully crafted schedule. Gomilla is quick to make the distinction that Quarantine should not be thought of as a retreat but rather a training program, one that asks participants to stretch beyond their typical limits.
Residents rotate between art labs and sessions with a slate of high-profile mentors—this upcoming edition includes artists we’ve featured on Colossal, Yuko Shimizu and Martin Wittfooth—with a variety of programming in the evening. The specifics of the art lab activities are always evolving, allowing for surprise and novelty with each day and each edition. Contrast is key, Gomilla says, as is risk. Although the structure of the program remains consistent, fewer than half of the activities and particular prompts are repeated. “I found that the more risky, the better it works,” Gomilla adds. “This is quite an incentive to change things every edition.”
Because the program isn’t prescriptive or focused on perfecting techniques or introducing theory, it functions as an inverse of the typical courses you’d find in an art school. The labs take cues from “art, education, psychology, and strategy,” Gomilla says. “I believe technique is extremely important, but we need to build something that complements it.” Instead, Quarantine focuses on mindset. “We push you to confront your fears, unlearn what’s restraining you, and rediscover the fire that makes you create,” a statement on its website says.
While the program is focused largely on making visual works, it attracts people who might not identify first as artists. Lawyers, psychiatrists, and even a rescue dog trainer work alongside designers, art directors, and concept designers.
The theme of the upcoming edition is Tears in the Rain, a reference to the iconic monologue from Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner. Detaching oneself from the work is a central intention, and like all of Quarantine’s editions, part of the philosophy its creators hope to foster.
Colossal will attend this spring’s program, from April 13 to 19, 2026. Find out more about joining us and the application process on Quarantine’s website.
