A Murcian impersonator finds a lost Sorolla on a Seville street, then returns it after an AI appraisal
Andrés Hurtado, a Lola Flores impersonator from Murcia, spotted a discarded painting while visiting Seville, took it home for its frame, and later discovered it was a genuine Sorolla worth up to €150,000.
A chance find in the heat
Andrés Hurtado, a Murcian transformista who performs as Lola Montiel, was in Seville as a tourist when he noticed a painting leaning against a planter near his hotel. It was around 4:30 p.m. during a heatwave. He later said he was drawn to the frame, not the canvas, and carried the work back to his room before taking it home to Puebla de Soto, Murcia.
From frame to fortune
Once home, Hurtado examined the painting more closely and spotted a signature.
He used an AI tool on his phone to identify the piece, then contacted an auction house. The appraisal came back at between €40,000 and €150,000. The painting, a seascape, had been reported missing after a family accidentally left it on the pavement while loading their car for a trip.Coño, si aquí pone Sorolla
The return and the police trunk
Hurtado saw television coverage of the lost Sorolla and decided to call the authorities. Police arrived at his home to collect the canvas. Footage showed officers placing the unframed work in the boot of a patrol car, alongside a fire extinguisher and other loose items, a detail that added to the story's surreal charm.
A folk hero in a sleeveless shirt
Hurtado's straightforward honesty and his appearance on TVE in a sleeveless shirt turned him into an overnight sensation. The episode drew comparisons to the shared television moments of the 1990s.
Esta historia y este hombre merecen estar desde ya en el Olimpo de la cultura trash española, junto a las vecinas de Valencia, la socorrista de 'la he liao parda' o Rocío Jurado gritando: 'sois destructores'. No nos merecemos tanto.
Art, decency, and a plastic bag
Commentators noted that Hurtado needed no white gloves or climate-controlled case. He carried the Sorolla in a plastic bag. The episode was read as a parable of rough-edged decency, free of institutional pomp. The painting itself, having been briefly stolen by passers-by and then abandoned fifty metres from its original spot, completed a journey that one columnist called more surreal than any performance at a contemporary art fair.
