In conversation with Diana Nawi, 2026 Frieze Los Angeles Impact Prize recipient Napoles Marty reflects on the formative influence of NXTHVN, the material and spiritual stakes of his guardian figures, and the dialogue between drawing and sculpture in his Frieze presentation.
Diana Nawi: I really enjoyed reviewing the work of all of the NXTHVN alumni. I appreciated the breadth of practices and approaches. What was your experience at NXTHVN like? How do you think it affected your practice?
Napoles Marty: My experience at NXTHVN was really important for me. It gave me time and space to focus deeply on my work, but also to be in conversation with other artists who were thinking seriously about their practices. Before that, I was working very intuitively. At NXTHVN, I was pushed to slow down and articulate what I was doing and why.
The critiques helped me understand that the guardians I carve aren’t just figures. They come from my own history: from migration, from spirituality, from memory. It also gave me confidence. Being in that environment made me realise that my voice and my background are strengths. I left feeling clearer about my direction and more committed to pushing the work further.

DN: Can you tell me a bit about the body of work you’ll be showing at Frieze?
NM: For Frieze, I’ll be presenting a group of charred wooden sculptures along with a focused selection of drawings. The sculptures continue my exploration of guardian and little spirit figures, forms that feel protective, spiritual, and slightly otherworldly.
The drawings include two series: The Sculptor and Alive. They document the process of making, almost like witnesses capturing the work in real time, from the beginning of the carving to the charring process.
DN: Process feels like a very important part of creating the sculptures. How much are you able to plan and control, and how much is dictated by materials and process that are out of your control?
NM: I usually start with a clear idea and try to stay in control, but often the work doesn’t immediately take shape, and I get frustrated. It’s in those moments that the wood begins to speak. Lines, cuts, and marks suggest new possibilities. These moments of chance constantly guide the next steps, shaping the figure in ways I couldn’t have planned. I see accidents or unexpected cuts not as mistakes, but as openings that allow the sculpture to find its own way.
DN: How do you think about the relationship between the drawings and the sculptures? They tell overlapping stories, but reveal a very different hand.
NM: The drawings and the sculptures are two sides of the same practice. The sculptures are physical presences. They occupy space and have weight, energy, and presence. The drawings, on the other hand, are more immediate and intimate. They record gestures, ideas, and the whole process of making in real time.
I often move between the two. After carving for a few hours, I’ll switch to drawing to bring the energy of the sculpture onto the paper or canvas, almost like carving with a pen. Then I return to the wood, letting the lines inform the volume as if the sculpture were a flat surface. In this way, the energy flows back and forth between drawing and sculpture, keeping the work alive and connected.

DN: Was it surprising to focus your presentation so much on the drawings?
NM: No, it wasn’t surprising. I’m usually known for the sculptures, which have a strong physical presence. But the drawings are where the work begins. They capture the energy, the decisions, and the moments of discovery. The way I enter that universe through drawing is very different from the strong, heavy presence of the sculptures. It’s a quieter, more immediate space.
Focusing on them allowed me to show the intimacy behind the sculptures and to reveal the hand and thinking that guide each figure. I wanted viewers to see that process as part of the presentation, not just the final form.
DN: You mentioned that you want your work to elicit a response from the viewer, but you were open to what that was, be it good or bad. How do you think about your audience? What have been meaningful responses people have shared with you?
NM: I try not to control how viewers respond. I want the work to have presence, to confront, protect, or even unsettle, depending on who is standing in front of it. People have shared all sorts of reactions, but because of the scale and presence of the work, being near a sculpture often changes their perception entirely.
Some of the most meaningful responses are very personal. Viewers have said a figure reminded them of an ancestor, or that it created a sense of strangeness in the way it seemed to look at them. Others have described feeling watched, not in a threatening way, but held.

DN: How are you thinking about the Impact Prize? Do you have particular hopes for the prize? I’m looking forward to your presentation and to continuing our conversations beyond the fair.
NM: The Impact Prize represents recognition, support, and opportunity. It brings visibility, which is important for work like mine that depends on space, scale, and dialogue. That kind of recognition helps the work move forward.
I hope it leads to greater exposure and new connections with curators, collectors, and institutions, so the sculptures can continue to grow and exist in meaningful contexts. For me, it’s about creating the conditions the work needs to keep evolving. I’m also looking forward to continuing these conversations as part of this experience.
