Valencia 57-24

Valencia 1957. Valencia 2024. A destructive force and a tragic recurring event. A disruptive phenomenon not only on a physical and social level, but also on that of human perception and reflection. The irruption of water - a symbol of life and fertility - within an urban and human-made context creates a rupture in the established order, a tear in the fabric of civilization that compels us to question the precariousness of existence and the dialectical relationship between humanity and nature. 

The images of the streets transformed into rushing torrents, houses engulfed by muddy waters, and vehicles swept away like helpless wrecks recall, with unsettling precision, the scenes of devastation etched in the collective memory by the 1957 catastrophe. This disturbing déjà-vu, far from being a mere accident of chance, serves as a point of reflection on the cyclical nature of history, the persistence of telluric forces beyond human control, and the need for a critical reconsideration of humanity’s relationship with the environment.

However, the evocative power of these images goes beyond the mere chronicle of disaster, delving into a deeper dimension in which the natural event is imbued with symbolic and archetypal meanings. Water, a generative and destructive element, becomes a metaphor for life itself, with its ceaseless flow between creation and destruction, between order and chaos. The flood, with its disruptive and uncontrollable force, causes terror, dismay, ruin.

In this light, art emerges as a privileged means to explore the complexity of the event, to decode its hidden meanings. It is no coincidence that the iconography of the flood and of natural catastrophe has spanned art history, taking on multiple forms and styles—from dramatic realism to visionary symbolism.

Looking at The Destruction of Atlantis by Nicholas Roerich, with its monumental city collapsing under the waves, we see not only the depiction of a catastrophic event but its transformation into myth, into an archetype of human destiny. Atlantis, the symbol of an advanced, ideal civilization, swallowed by the sea in one day, serves as an eternal warning about the transience of things, the illusory nature of power, and the fragility of existence. Through his vibrant, dramatic palette and monumental, visionary style, Roerich shows us the boundless power of nature, descending upon humanity as a blind, unstoppable force.

Yet within those giant waves, those cold, unyielding skies, and that city sinking into the whirlpool, there is also a terrible beauty, a cosmic grandeur that crushes and exalts us at the same time.

In After the Destruction of Psara by Nikolaos Gyzis, the focus shifts from the cosmic to the human scale. No longer the tragedy of an entire civilization, but the individual drama of people, fragmented families, broken lives. With an intense, empathetic realism, Gyzis shows us the survivors of the catastrophe, overwhelmed by sorrow, consumed by despair. Their lifeless bodies, their faces disfigured by grief, speak to us of unspeakable suffering, of irreparable loss. Yet, within these sorrowful figures, in those gestures of surrender, there is also an unexpected strength, a dignity that transcends the tragedy. Gyzis presents humanity in its raw vulnerability, its fragility, but also in its capacity to endure, to survive, and to find meaning even in suffering.
 

In Landscape with the Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah by Joachim Patinir, we are offered a moral and religious interpretation of catastrophe. The destruction of the two biblical cities, punished by God for their corruption and impiety, becomes a warning to all of humanity. Patinir, with his symbolic and allegorical language, depicts the destructive power of fire and brimstone descending upon the cities like infernal rain. However, in this apocalyptic landscape, with its flaming skies and fleeing figures, there is also a sense of justice, of purification, of renewal. Patinir points out that the catastrophe, despite its tragedy, can also be an opportunity for redemption, a moment of transition towards a new era, a tragedy that exposes errors with the potential to understand, amend, and transform.

These works do not merely depict reality; they illuminate, question, and transcend it. The masterpieces of great artists become lenses through which we can access a deeper understanding of catastrophic events, capturing not only their tragic and destructive aspects but also their regenerative and transformative potential. Art thrives on contrasts, tensions, and oppositions. And in the dialectic between destruction and creation, chaos and order, death and rebirth, the boundless richness of human experience unfolds.

Opening image: Joachim Patinir, Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, ca. 1520