Marta Minujín inaugurated "Emotional Candy," an immersive experience between mattresses and sound.

The Martitas burst into the Central Hall of the Palacio Libertad, tossing their bobbed blond hair and looking from side to side behind their sunglasses. Dressed in white outfits, they rehearse a choreography that simulates slow motion, and then she appears, the real Marta Minujin , the one from the '67 Minuphone in New York, the one from the '79 Pan Dulce Obelisk. She appears, wearing her "amulet" outfit, as she likes to call it, which features ethnic motifs. "The jacket is from Guatemala, the pants are from Peru," she will later explain. The emblematic Argentine artist , who once graced the legendary Di Tella Institute, now sits among her "stunt doubles" to harangue them:

“ Art, art, art! It’s a war cry! Art, art, art! It’s a war cry!” they exclaim in unison.

Since she began collecting used mattresses in Paris in the 1960s to turn them into habitable sculptures, Marta Minujín has transformed the everyday into a symbol.

Those first mattresses, twisted and painted in vibrant colors , marked the beginning of a participatory, deeply sensorial pop aesthetic that redefined Argentine art. Works like "¡Revuélquese y viva!" (Roll and Live!) and "La chambre d'amour" (Love Chamber) invited the public to immerse themselves—literally—in soft, provocative, and playful spaces , where the body was the protagonist and art, an experience.

Throughout her career, Minujín has made the mattress an emblem: a support for dreams, eroticism, rest, and endurance . From "La Menesunda" to "El Partenón de libros," her work has always been a celebration of the ephemeral, the collective, and the disruptive.

Now, in the midst of Buenos Aires' winter, the artist returns to the Palacio Libertad with "Emotional Candy," a monumental, twelve-meter inflatable "anti-sculpture" that revisits its historical language to offer an immersive, vibrant, and emotional experience.

Inspired by her iconic mattress series, this installation invites the public to walk through corridors of color and sound , activated every weekend by the Las Martitas performance collective. Art as play, as an embrace, as an emotional caress, but also as a rallying cry.

The enormous and colorful inflatable is located on the esplanade leading to the Palacio Libertad, on Sarmiento Street. Fortunately, the afternoon is sunny and not too cold. As its creator emerges, rock star-like, a crowd of people of all ages approaches to greet her.

Minujin is vibrant, radiant, and very kind to everyone. She's not only highly respected for her artistic career but also beloved for her humanity.

Inside the inflatable, lulled by the birds' songs, the Martitas wander, stop , name Da Vinci, say "Futurism," "Dadaism," and pose again.

Outside, behind the fence, a woman approaches to offer Marta a gift. A very small boy calls out to her, asks her to come closer, wants to say hello, and a group of young girls want a selfie with her. Marta attends to everyone patiently and with a smile , then returns to the Palace's entrance hall, but not before repeating, alongside her duplicates:

“Art, art, art! It’s a battle cry! Art, art, art! It’s a battle cry!”

" Art is above everything, really, above religion, above politics . When you look at a work of art, art has the ability to rescue your hidden greatness," Minujín said at a press conference, quoting Octavio Paz.

For the artist, this installation is a "war cry," not a war cry, but an aesthetic one : "If art ruled the world, it would be a much more peaceful world," she says.

Minujín believes that Argentina isn't recognized globally through art, but rather by its nature. "There are individuals who represent it, but not Argentina itself. Nature represents us more, and it's fantastic, " she maintains. In her case, she believes her work attracts attention around the world because "they're used to the fact that you're from Europe or North America."

Regarding the installation presented at the Palacio Libertad, he clarifies that "Emotional Candy" is not an evocation of his childhood but rather an immersive sensorial experience: "When you chew a gumdrop, you're thinking about something, and you don't know what. When you chew the bubble gum until you get the bubble, it implies a change of thought. And when you enter that labyrinthine inflatable and hear the birds singing, it's an emotional experience ."

With the intention of reconnecting people on an emotional level that goes beyond virtual reality, he emphasizes that this work "doesn't just enter through the eyes, but also through action . It's not that people come to see a sculpture, but rather to walk through it, to experience the emotion of hearing the birds sing as if they were in the jungle."

Play, a constant throughout her career, is present in the offering. “The kids would love to play hide-and-seek in there. And if you come at six or seven at night, it's even nicer with the lights ,” she says enthusiastically.

For those new to art, Minujín offers an essential guide: “Believe in yourself.” He asserts that a true artist doesn't follow trends: “An artist doesn't look at what others do; he does what's inside.” And he recalls how even medieval art, influenced by religion, “transcends everything in the wonder of its mastery.”

Regarding "Emotional Treat," he defines it as something that goes beyond the conventional. "Sculpture is generally heavy and uses rigid materials. This is an anti-sculpture because it's the complete opposite."

He celebrates the fact that it can be easily transported: “This one is going to Madrid, to the Reina Sofía. I've already made four or five different ones. This one is twelve meters long, and I have another one that's five meters long. And I plan to continue ,” he promises.