Cruiser Features ego andaluz in a Studio Portrait

When the Haymo Empl from Cruiser came to visit my studio for an interview, I didn’t know the conversation would eventually become a four-page feature in their print edition.

Letting someone into Atelier 147 (my quiet basement sanctuary in Zurich) is personal enough. Letting them ask the real questions is something else entirely.

ego andaluz and his artwork

The studio is unassuming from the outside. A staircase, a door, a softened silence.

Down here, everything slows. The rhythm of carving tools, the scent of ink, the grain of paper waiting to hold a body.

When Cruiser arrived, I offered pastel de nata and the kind of cautious smile you give someone who’s about to step into your inner world. Their presence was calm, curious, and surprisingly gentle. What began as an interview quickly became something more intimate: a conversation about desire, craft, identity, and the bodies that live inside my work.

ego andaluz carving a linoleum block

Throughout our time together, the journalist observed details that most people miss. They described my process as physical, deliberate, and without shortcuts. The way linocut forces you into commitment, the way screenprint pulls you into patience. They wrote about the quiet intensity before a cut, how every line is final, how queer and gay visibility can be carved into paper with the same determination it takes to claim space in the world.

They noticed something else too: how much of my art is tied to my heritage. Born in Switzerland, shaped by Andalusian fire and Alentejo melancholy. We spoke about that duality, how it lives inside the men I carve: soft and strong, confident and uncertain, glowing and fragile.

The article talked about the bodies in my work. Not the polished digital kind, but real queer bodies: hungry, tender, theatrical, reflective. Bodies that want, bodies that hide, bodies that insist on being seen. Bodies that were denied visibility for so long that carving them by hand feels like an act of correction.

We wandered through different series — the Greek Statues pieces, the Spotlight Studies, Locker Room Crush — but the heart of the conversation was always the same:

queer desire deserves space.

During the interview, I ended up sharing something I rarely say: that I had two coming-outs — one personal, one artistic. For years I kept my work private, sketching and printing in silence. The feature captured that journey with a clarity that surprised me. It held up a mirror I didn’t know I needed.

When the journalist left, the pastel de nata was gone, and the room felt warm. Someone had seen the work, the body, and the story underneath the print. And that stays with you. Read the full article (in German) here.

About Cruiser:

Cruiser is the oldest and one of Switzerland’s most respected queer magazines, published since the 1980s. It has documented LGBTQ+ life, culture and history for decades, giving space to artists, voices and stories that mainstream media often overlook.

Being featured by Cruiser isn’t just publicity — it’s a reminder of how important queer platforms are for artists like me, and how much power there is in being part of a community that sees you. You can read the full feature (in German) on Cruiser’s website: www.cruisermagazin.ch