Interview with Illustrator David Sancho

Your work shows a strong sensitivity to the passage of time, memory, and identity. What role does emotion play in your visual storytelling?

Emotion is very important in the way I work. I’m really drawn to the ability of images to convey complex or abstract ideas in a simple way, without needing to be translated into words. I find that kind of communication—more intuitive and symbolic than logical—especially interesting.

What draws you to the graphic novel format compared to other visual or narrative media? Are you currently experimenting with other formats or languages?

I think comics are an incredibly versatile medium, one that allows for many layers of information. There’s what is told visually, what is narrated through text, the page composition, panel sequencing, color… a whole range of elements you can weave together to build a story and add nuance.

For me, it’s a language that combines the slower, more detailed and abstract reading experience of illustration with the sequential narrative and rhythm of cinema, which opens up a lot of possibilities when working.

For now, I definitely want to keep exploring this medium, while also continuing my illustration practice. In my view, they’re two different expressions of the same graphic language, and right now I’m interested in experimenting with both.

David Sancho

In Barbecho, there’s a strong connection between landscape and memory. What does the idea of “going back to your hometown” mean to you? What would you like readers to take away from the book?

I was born in Teruel, but I’ve always maintained a strong connection to Pancrudo, my grandparents’ village. For me, going back there means returning to my point of origin. I’ve been away from home for about ten years now, and although I’ve learned a lot in the cities I’ve lived in, I always feel the need to go back from time to time.

I believe that our roots, where we grow up, our family, and so on become an important part of how we see the world. So returning to Pancrudo makes me look back at all of that, at the context I come from. It helps me situate myself within it and better understand who I am in other places.

Personally, I’d like readers to make the story their own. I hope the book encourages them to reflect on their own roots and to see them as something worth considering. And for those who feel more distant from the topic, I hope it offers a perspective on rural depopulation from our point of view, showing that it’s not just villages emptying out, but also a loss of culture and identity.

How was your experience in the Master’s in Illustration and Visual Narrative at Elisava? What role did it play in the development of Barbecho?

The Master’s was an opportunity to immerse myself in references and start understanding everything that surrounds comics as a medium. Beyond developing Barbecho as my final project—which helped me structure the process—I feel the novel was mainly enriched by the classroom environment throughout the year.

It was ten months full of conversations, assignments, and readings about comics, where I discovered works and artists I might never have come across on my own. Combined with the experience of the professors and the work of my classmates, it really opened my eyes to the many different ways this medium can be approached.

What has winning the Fnac-Salamandra Graphic Award meant to you? Has it changed the way you approach new projects?

The whole process has been an incredible learning experience about the publishing world, working processes, and my own concerns. I think it has given me many tools and more confidence when approaching longer and more complex projects.

On a personal level, I’d say it has also helped me trust my work a bit more. Illustration and comics are challenging fields, so when something works out, we should also allow ourselves to celebrate it, which, honestly, doesn’t always come easy, haha.