Hubertus has so much of the world that he does not need to interpret it, but makes it his own through his obsessive appearance in his own works. We are living through a vulgarisation, a repetition ad nauseam of the so-called selfi (a term already accepted by the RAE), but unlike those photos we take of ourselves with a more or less evocative background, Hubertus has been incorporating his image, his imprint, into his compositions for years, but always as another element, moulding the narcissism of his work. He achieves snapshots of extraordinary vigour, a world of reflections with which he constantly plays, as if he wanted to tell us that everything is illusion, that everything is a reflection of an image in another image.

I met Hubertus, if I remember correctly, years ago, at a concert at the Queen Sofia School of Music, and I was immediately fascinated by the diversity of his interests, the rabid originality of his approaches, his capacity to be passionate about life and the human. I, who dedicate myself to portraiture from a, shall we say, much more traditional approach, can't help but feel challenged by this hatching of shapes and colours and by the strength of the images he presents us with. Fortunately, I am not an art or portrait theorist and I only approach a work with my experience and my sensibility. And I must add that Hubertus's photographs move and concern me.

As Berger wrote: "One of the ways of reading, of conceiving the history of art is to see how new aspects of human experience enter, how they are admitted thanks to a particular artist and often not without difficulty".
 
Hernán Cortés Moreno
Painter