The Sky Was Below
by Carolina-Laia Puigdevall

Some time ago, I came across the expression ‘to die under your sky’. At the time, I didn’t understand it. Perhaps, with the passing of years and life’s realities, I have now found its meaning: recognising the importance of the sky above us as our own. Knowing that it is consistently the same, that it is still there as it has always been, covering everything like an imperceptible protective blanket, the exact piece of sky under which we have chosen to live. The sky is the only thing that remains in our view every day, yet sometimes we lose awareness of its presence. To see it again, we have to go somewhere indoors. Lose sight of it. Miss it. Think about going outside. And then, in an instant, we know that whatever happens, the sky is out there, and despite being subject to constant change, it is immutable.
But where is the sky when we stop seeing it every day? How many days go by without us realising it is there? We keep looking ahead, down, at screens and at the images they project. Urrutia suggests looking for the sky in everything that surrounds us in our daily lives. To understand the symbols that lead us to it. To turn our gaze inward and bring out everything we want to see out there. Anything that reminds us of the sky can be the sky. One image within our memory, one impression, or one reminiscence is enough to reach it.
In The Sky Was Below, all these images transport us to that specific moment when our gaze ceases to be mechanical and becomes conscious. For a few seconds – perhaps even longer – we stop what we are doing to feel the sky above us. Even if we are unable to see it. In this exhibition, designed and painted specifically for this buried space, known as ‘the cave’, each of the paintings doubles as a window to the outside world. Through them, it is possible to travel without having to move. The paintings become openings in the dense brick wall, enabling something that would otherwise be impossible: observing the sky from confinement.