Kicking It with Gordopelota: Martín Kazanietz’s Tribute to Fútbol Barrial
Written by Maria Yigouti
Published on June 2nd, 2025
Martín Kazanietz, better known by his moniker Gordopelota (b.1985), is an Argentine artist hailing from Buenos Aires and raised in General Pico. Initially dabbling in cinema and graphic design, Martín soon found his match in graffiti. He’s renowned for his caustic murals and paintings that tackle the bare-bones pulse of fútbol barrial—the gritty, grassroots culture of amateur football, far removed from the slick, flashy pomp of the big leagues.
With a touch of humor and a dash of satire, his work reveals the unfiltered side of the game, the kind that’s often left off TV screens and corporate-sponsored stadiums. Martín isn’t just painting fútbol—he’s channeling its callejero spirit, grabbing hold of the energy of local teams, camisetas splattered with sweat and pride, beers passed around on the sidelines, and the rough asfalto that grounds the game.
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Maria Yigouti: How did your early experiences and childhood background influence the development of your artistic style, and did you always feel a clear path towards it, or did it evolve over time as you engaged with different influences and encounters?
Gordopelota: I didn’t have a clear career path at first. I left my hometown in La Pampa when I was 18 and moved to Buenos Aires to study cinema, but I eventually switched to graphic design. Art was always important at home since both of my parents are artists. Still, I only started realizing I wanted to do something art-related around the age of 25 or 26, after meeting a friend who was a graffiti artist. A couple of years into doing graffiti and murals, it hit me that art had been part of my world since I was a kid. I had just taken it for granted.
Maria Yigouti: “Gordopelota” has become synonymous with your art. Can you share the story behind this name and how it reflects your artistic ethos and approach?
Gordopelota: The name started as a playful nickname from a friend at my first job, because I had a big appetite. Soon enough, a bunch of friends started calling me “Gordito,” which I decided to roll with as my graffiti tag. When social media came around, I adopted it as my handle. Now it feels a bit silly as a name, but I’ve gotten used to it.
Maria Yigouti: Football in Argentina is more than just a sport—it’s a cultural force. What aspects of the national identity and the complexities of football resonate with you most, and how do you channel them into your work?
Gordopelota: Football in Argentina is almost a religion, a social glue, and a daily ritual. It unites people across generations, offering a shared belief system and a badge of identity. At once a topic of constant conversation and a mirror of local culture, football helps shape the codes and rivalries that set one barrio apart from another. Every team has its playbook: political strips, cultural references, and fiercely defended turf. When you support a particular team, you’re essentially drawing a line to differentiate yourself from the others. However, when it comes to supporting the national team, we all rally behind a collective identity that sets us apart on the world stage. From afar, all football fans might seem alike, but up close, each person has something deeply meaningful that makes them unique. In a football world that’s growing more commercial by the day, my work holds on to what keeps the game human.
Maria Yigouti: Your art focuses largely on the culture of amateur football, a side of the game that’s often overlooked. What is it about this “B side” of football that resonates with you, and why do you feel it’s important to represent in your work?
Gordopelota: I like the idea of the ‘B side’ of football as a counterpoint to the industrial side. That’s where the soul of the game lives. It’s messy, loud, full of heart, and that’s the version I’m drawn to. The industrial side already has the big sponsors and prime-time slots. I’m more interested in the scraps, the chants, the after-hours magia—the parts that don’t come prepackaged.
Maria Yigouti: Diego Maradona looms large in your art. What elements of his persona speak to you the most, and how does his spirit manifest in your work?
Gordopelota: Maradona wasn’t just a footballer—he was the barrilete cósmico (cosmic kite) soaring through Argentina’s complex history, embodying every twist, turn, and facet of its culture in a single man.
Maria Yigouti: You often depict the raw, unfiltered moments of football, contrasting with the polished, commercialized representations of the sport. Why is it important for you to focus on this gritty, physical aspect of the game, and how do you think it differs from mainstream portrayals?
Gordopelota: I think we’re oversaturated with industrialized images of the sport. But there’s a lot of beauty in the everyday moments of football—the games we play with friends. In a time where we spend 4 to 5 hours doomscrolling on our phones, playing a one-hour 5-a-side match, or dedicating 90 minutes to a game feels almost sacred.
Maria Yigouti: How does incorporating flags, pennants, and intervened camisetas (jerseys) into your work contribute to the storytelling of football culture and its symbolism and reflect the deep-rooted passion and communal identity of fans, particularly within the local context of fútbol barrial (grassroots football)?
Gordopelota: I’m really drawn to the cultural side of it. Flags, pennants, and jerseys are all deeply tied to creating a spontaneous aesthetic that builds identity. Each of these elements holds strong meaning. They’re also a powerful way to express a sense of place or time. In my country, when you start seeing murals related to a team, ou instantly recognize you’re in that specific neighborhood. The same goes for kits or shorts.
Maria Yigouti: Muralism often involves a direct connection with the public. Can you recall a specific interaction or reaction from someone who saw your work in the streets that left a lasting impact on you?
Gordopelota: The last time I was painting at Rosario Central Stadium, one of the security guards by the entrance was really into the faces I was drawing. He hung around all day and started telling everyone who passed by that he was one of the characters. So, I invited him to sit with me and changed one of the faces to make him the main character. He was so proud, and soon enough, his friends and colleagues were all crowding around, cracking jokes about it.
Maria Yigouti: Mural-making often throws unexpected challenges your way—whether it’s the weather, materials, or even the people around you. Can you share a moment when something completely unplanned shifted the course of your work, like a sudden rainstorm or an unexpected interaction, that made you rethink your approach or change the direction of your vision?
Gordopelota: The first and only time I painted on a 7-story building, I realized right away I hated it. Vertigo kicked in, and the view wasn’t worth the anxiety. Needless to say, I never went back to paint at such heights again.
Maria Yigouti: From your experience working with graffiti to large-scale murals, how has the relationship between the artist and the community evolved for you? Can you think of an instance where your art became a part of a larger conversation or movement in the public space?
Gordopelota: When I did my first show in a small gallery, I had this idea that artists were all snobby. Over time, I met many of my peers, and while I still sense some snobbery in the art world, it often feels more abstract than genuine. What stood out to me, though, was the friendships I made while painting or exhibiting. After that first show, my first big murals, and taking my practice more seriously, I started to see my work as part of a larger conversation. Sometimes that conversation feels important, and other times it feels like no one cares. But in the end, what matters most is keeping friends.
Maria Yigouti: As your practice has evolved from graffiti to murals and now to studio work, how has this shift impacted your creative process and the direction of your art?
Gordopelota: Graffiti was always fun for me, but I never had any real artistic ambition with it. It was more about socializing, meeting friends, and kicking it around like a friendly match. When I did my first murals, I was solely experimenting with materials and surfaces. But once I started working in the studio and focusing on painting, I began to pay much more attention to what I was doing and how I was doing it.
Maria Yigouti: Your work has gained international recognition through exhibitions in cities like Los Angeles, Brussels, and Paris. How do you balance global acclaim with your commitment to representing the authenticity of local football culture?
Gordopelota: I moved to my wife’s hometown, Viedma, a small city in North Patagonia, where I live my everyday life, far from those artistic hubs. While I enjoy visiting places like Los Angeles, Brussels, and Paris when I can, my studio and simple daily routine are here. I watch third division football, second division basketball, and I play whenever my body and injuries allow me to.
Maria Yigouti: How do you see your work evolving to reflect not just the game itself but the ever-changing cultural landscape of Argentina? Do you see your medium—whether murals, graffiti, or studio work—taking on new forms to adapt to these shifts?
Gordopelota: I probably see myself getting more involved in other cultural aspects beyond just creating art, perhaps through curating or organizing events. I see my work evolving by engaging with a larger community in new ways.
Maria Yigouti: As you look ahead, do you see yourself continuing to explore football culture, or are there other personal passions or themes you’re eager to dive into?
Gordopelota: I’ve always worked on football-related projects, but I’ve also had my hands in other passions. So, I see myself juggling both football culture and whatever else gets past the ref, mixing it up and seeing where the ball bounces—sometimes it’s fútbol, sometimes it’s a total curveball.
Maria Yigouti is an independent editor, curator, and founder of Yapper, a platform dedicated to foregrounding the visual cultures and lived poetics of the Southlands. Based in Casablanca, Morocco, and with academic credentials in design and visual communication, her work spans editorial and curatorial practices, broadcasting voices outside the mainstream through cross-border collaborations and artistic exploration.