Today Galería OMR is one of Mexico’s leading galleries, representing some of the country’s most significant artists—many of whom built their careers through the gallery before gaining global recognition—alongside established international names who later joined the roster, drawn to the gallery’s institutional-level approach.
Founded in 1983, Galería OMR was the first Mexican art gallery to participate in international fairs, playing a pivotal role in bringing Mexico’s contemporary art scene to global prominence. At the close of a bustling Mexico City Art Week, Observer met with Patricia Ortiz Monasterio at ZONAMACO. She co-founded the gallery with her husband, Jaime Riestra, and they ran it together for over thirty years, cementing their reputation as one of the most successful and enduring forces in the international art system before passing the torch to their son Cristobal Riestra. Born the same year as the gallery, he quite literally grew up alongside OMR and its artists.
Today the gallery’s roster includes Gabriel Rico, Jose Dávila, Eduardo Sarabia, Pia Camil, Jorge Méndez Blake, Superflex, Alicja Kwade, Claudia Comte and Julian Charrière, among others, reinforcing its role as a powerhouse in the contemporary art landscape.
When we met, Ortiz Monasterio was both pleased and deeply concerned about the level of affluence she saw at ZONAMACO’s VIP preview. “The fair and the entire city’s art scene has grown so much from when we started. There were a lot of good collectors; they came and bought what they wanted and had to, but there were also a lot of people in VIP who are not collectors,” she said, echoing a sentiment shared by many local dealers and longtime Mexico City Art Week attendees. Year after year, the event has become more popular and more international but also increasingly event-driven—much like Art Basel Miami Beach—which does not necessarily translate into cultural value or strong sales. Still, as Mexico City cements itself as a global art destination, new opportunities emerge for Mexican artists to gain exposure and recognition.
The growing market for Mexican contemporary art has also shaped the artists themselves. “When the artists started to have attention and distribution, they became more professional, had big studios and hired younger artists,” Ortiz Monasterio said. “In this way, they started to create an entire system, fostering the next generations. You must be generous and open to the community, teach people and let them grow and develop.”
As one of the first galleries to champion new aesthetics and new business models, Galería OMR played a crucial role in the maturation of Mexico’s contemporary art scene. The gallery fostered the careers of generations of young Mexican artists, curators and arts professionals—many of whom are now central to the country’s cultural production—while simultaneously positioning Mexico as a force to be reckoned with in the global art world.
OMR was, in fact, a pioneer in this regard, showing at international fairs as early as the 1990s. Their first major breakthrough came with an invitation to ARCOMadrid in 1992, followed by participation in the now-defunct FIAC and then Art Basel and Art Forum Berlin. It was, Ortiz Monasterio recalls, often the first time contemporary Mexican artists were presented on a global stage, and so playing it safe was never an option. “At our first ARCO—our very first international fair—we presented monumental and museum-quality pieces. We had a huge stand where we mounted an impressive six-meter-long mural of carved wood created by Germán Venegas; four ceramic sculptures and one in bronze by Adolfo Riestra; and a large montage by Alberto Gironella consisting of a display cabinet taken from a cantina and transformed it into a striking Spanish grocery store window, as a homage to Goya.”
That year, they didn’t sell a thing, but they made contacts and, more importantly, an impression. “We knew we needed to take that step and go abroad and show what was being done. Everybody knew about Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera and the muralists, but they didn’t know about this new generation working in the ‘90s and what was being produced in Mexico.” That unwavering commitment to empowering artists’ most ambitious visions has remained central to the gallery’s program, shaping its exhibitions, installations and presence at art fairs.
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OMR’s origins trace back to a modest space in Colonia Roma, where Ortiz Monasterio and Riestra first exhibited works by their friends and the surrounding community of artists. These were creatives pushing boundaries—embracing conceptual and experimental approaches in visual art, photography and video. “We always wanted to show something that would move us, something that would speak to us, sometimes even repelled or just chose it for how strange, challenging but also different it was,” she said. “It has nothing to do with beauty.” As they actively sought out and shaped a new generation of artists, they realized that their mission was to capture the pulse of the moment by identifying those whose work resonated with their time and generation.
That same impulse led to OMR’s first and only pop-up in New York: “Parallel Project,” staged in SoHo in 1990. The exhibition was a direct response to a show organized by the Mexican government at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that same year, which presented Mexican art only from pre-Hispanic times to 1954, the year of Frida Kahlo’s death. OMR’s founders saw it as their responsibility to highlight the art that had emerged since, showcasing the work of living artists whose contributions were shaping contemporary discourse. The project extended to other cities where the official survey show traveled, marking OMR’s first major international exposure and solidifying its dedication to expanding awareness of Mexican contemporary art abroad.
Ortiz Monasterio entered the gallery world from a background in museography, shaped by formative experiences in Europe. She worked in the Paris studio of legendary Venezuelan artist Carlos Cruz-Diez and collaborated on various projects with ICOM, gaining exposure to the inner workings of institutional art. Upon returning to Mexico, she joined the Museo de Arte Moderno, working under the great Mexican museographer Fernando Gamboa. In 1978, she was appointed to a directorship position in the international exhibitions division of the Mexican Ministry of Foreign Affairs, a role that placed her at the center of Mexico’s cultural diplomacy.
Jaime Riestra, on the other hand, grew up in Guadalajara, closely connected to its artistic community through his older brother, an artist. Drawn into the city’s bohemian life, he abandoned his university studies in architecture—a decision he would later call his greatest regret—to pursue filmmaking and follow in his brother’s footsteps. This path led him to New York, where he immersed himself in the city’s electrifying art scene from the 1960s through the 1980s… a scene, he would reflect in his memoir, that no longer exists.
During that period, he lived near and befriended Robert Mapplethorpe, a relationship that would profoundly influence his perspective on art and ultimately shape his career as a gallerist. At 24, Riestra returned to Guadalajara, but unable to reconnect with the city, he moved to Mexico City, where he began to take filmmaking more seriously. He worked at the Centro de Producción de Cortometraje, which he describes as “a seedbed of new talent,” alongside figures like Epigmenio Ibarra, Patricia Sloane, art critic Oliver Debroise (who was still a filmmaker at the time), Pedro Torres and his cousin Nicolás Echevarría. It was also in Mexico City that he would cross paths with Patricia, who was still living in Europe.
After reconnecting in Rome during a romantic weekend, Patricia returned to Mexico for good. She rented an apartment in Mexico City, and Riestra helped her move in. “It was December 25, 1977. I never went back home. I have never slept in another bed,” Riestra recalls. “I had found an apartment on the Plaza Río de Janeiro, and I was moving there that very day. Jaime helped me with my things, and that night, he slept over. He never left.”
When Ortiz Monasterio and Riestra decided to open their own art space, there were other galleries around, but most were focused on traditional or modern art. They wanted to do something different—specifically, show the artists of their own generation, the ones they and their friends were buying to support. Before they opened a gallery, however, they had a frame shop.
At the time, Patricia was working in the international exhibitions department of the Mexican Ministry of Foreign Affairs, while Riestra was making documentaries for the Instituto Nacional Indigenista, traveling frequently but without a steady income. With money always tight, making frames for their artist friends—and for contacts within the museum network Ortiz Monasterio had built—became both a challenge and an opportunity. In 1979, they officially established La Ola Verde (The Green Wave).
In the early 1980s, the couple had moved into a new home; their first son, Mateo, had been born and Cristobal was on the way. When the lawnmower repair shop below became available, they saw an opening, and encouraged and supported by both of their brothers, they decided to launch a gallery, initially named OM. From the outset, Ortiz Monasterio and Riestra shaped their exhibitions around a central theme that spoke to a new generation of artists: Viejos problemas, nuevas soluciones—Old Problems, New Solutions.
Before the gallery formally opened, they tested the waters with a photography show with work by Ortiz Monasterio’s brother, who was becoming a well-known photographer. His connections helped them secure works by major figures in Mexican contemporary photography, including Manuel Álvarez Bravo, Graciela Iturbide and Mariana Yampolsky. In its first year (1983), OM alternated group exhibitions with solo presentations, starting with a show of works by their friend Claudio Isaac.
After three or four well-received exhibitions, an unexpected opportunity arose: David Lynch was in Mexico, and the couple was invited to visit his studio. “He had started making some wonderful drawings and would go to marketplaces and take crazy photographs,” Ortiz Monasterio recalls. “We offered him a show, and he did it. It was in 1984.”
A few exhibitions and some packed openings later, the gallery’s momentum was undeniable. By the end of the year, Ortiz Monasterio and Riestra were already preparing to move into a larger space—an iconic turn-of-the-century Porfirian villa in the Roma neighborhood. With the expansion came another shift: the gallery’s name evolved from OM to Galería OMR. As Ortiz Monasterio explains in the book the gallery published in 2020, “The expansion and the success of the new enterprise began to demand much more of Jaime’s time and collaboration, so it was only fair to add the ‘R’ to the name.”
Ortiz Monasterio and Riestra are among those rare couples who not only built a life together but also managed to run a gallery side by side for decades without imploding. Their secret? Clear roles and firm boundaries between their professional and personal lives. “Each of us had a different role to play, apart from choosing the artists and the art and finding the shows, which we both really enjoyed doing together. We even had different offices on different levels,” Ortiz Monasterio said. “At three o’clock, we would stop, take the car, go home for lunch, and there we would not talk about art. I would then stay home with the kids in the afternoon, and he would go back to the gallery, but sometimes we were all together as a family.”
Their children, Cristobal Riestra and Mateo Riestra, quite literally grew up in the gallery, developing close relationships with the artists over time and an organic passion for the world their parents had built. It was almost inevitable that they would become involved at some point—first Cristobal and now Mateo.
The generational transition, however, was not left to chance. The founders planned the handover carefully. “At one point, it was clear to us that we had to take a step back and move on. We didn’t get old running the gallery and knew a new chapter needed to be opened. However, it was something that we had decided well before and had long prepared for,” Ortiz Monasterio said, adding that it was a process of two years that involved consultants. Cristobal Riestra had earned a master’s in art business and had been living in London, occasionally joining his parents to assist with European fairs. But when the moment came, he was ready to take over the family business.
From the outset, it was clear that Cristobal had his own vision. The gallery had to evolve—many aspects of its business model needed to change to keep pace with an art market that had grown far more professionalized and exponentially more competitive. “His speech at opening the new space and new chapter in 2016 was essentially a goodbye. He made clear how it was a new thing,” Ortiz Monasterio recalled.
To mark a new chapter, the gallery relocated to a new home in Colonia Roma: a brutalist building called Sala Margolin at Calle Córdoba 100, in space originally dedicated to selling records and books. Mateo Riestra, who studied architecture, became involved in the project and, together with architects José Arnaud-Bello and Max von Werz, reimagined the space while preserving elements of its original character. The result was a striking art gallery with soaring ceilings, a vertical extension spanning two floors and a seamless dialogue between the interior and the courtyard. Upstairs, another exhibition space leads to the office and a stunning library that opens onto a vast terrace overlooking the street—an ideal gathering spot during openings and events.
The transition, however, was not without challenges. Some artists left, and at major international fairs, collectors would sometimes ask about Ortiz Monasterio and Jaime Riestra before walking away without buying. While Cristobal retained several longtime gallery artists, he also expanded the roster with more international names and, more critically, introduced a new way of working, adopting a more horizontal structure.
In 2022, Cristobal and Mateo launched LagoAlgo, restoring public access to a historic space in Mexico City’s Chapultepec Park through a remarkable renovation. The project preserved the building’s original function as a restaurant while transforming it into a sprawling, multidisciplinary cultural center. With this ambitious endeavor, the gallery reinforced its role as a leader in the city’s cultural scene, creating a new platform for high-caliber contemporary art exhibitions. What initially seemed like a bold, almost outlandish idea quickly proved its value. “It’s an incredible exhibition space. It was costly, but it brought so much attention to the city’s cultural scene and allowed the gallery to work with major international artists who often had never shown in Mexico or not on that scale,” Ortiz Monasterio said. Though LagoAlgo operates as an independent nonprofit space, its projects feel seamlessly aligned with OMR’s broader vision.
During this year’s art week, the gallery expanded again, unveiling a third space and new project: “Bodega.” Carved out of a section of OMR’s historical storage, this additional gallery is shared with Puerto Rican gallerist Agustina Ferreyra and is dedicated to showcasing younger and emerging artists. The space debuted with an exhibition by Ad Minoliti, whose colorful, nature-inspired canvases interacted with abstract painted wall compositions, creating a striking interplay between form and environment.
“They’re doing an excellent job; we are very proud of them,” Ortiz Monasterio said, reaffirming how her sons have not only continued but successfully revitalized the gallery’s legacy. Under their leadership, OMR has further cemented its place as a powerhouse—not just in Mexico but in the global contemporary art landscape.
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