How Can the Images Be Interpreted?

To me, we are looking at a world upside-down. A world where the sky has become a river and the water has pushed itself into the depths so far that it is unlikely to ever spill over its banks again.

In this way Sanchez is engaged in a far broader discourse than the thrill of getting lost in old Europe, not that this isn't worthy of documentation. However, by making his audience question whether they are looking up at the sky or down into a flowing river, we encounter global consciousness again. He too engages us in the discourse of climate change without hitting us over the head.

Rising water levels may be new to the world with some often-referenced exceptions such as Venice and the Maldives. For now, this reality is the subject of panicked projections across the world. Sanchez's work poetically engages this indirectly. Moving from seemingly pristine unpolluted waters, to murkier, less appealing rivers (skies) he starts to engage in a discourse about the health of the rivers themselves (Figure 23.2).

The idea of an azure river and yellow sandstone cliffs becomes less alluring, when contrasted with grimier facades and our sky rivers appearing to be polluted by inconsistent color in the water. Flecked with coloration and striation they seem less appealing. The strong linear pattern of the arched windows in the previous image has given way to more balanced facades on both sides and if we actually turn this image upside-down, the experience reads pretty much the same way.

Don't take my word for it though. Let's look at the image upside-down (Figure 23.3).

Unlike the first image this one works perfectly either way around, at least for me. In fact the iron plant hanger looks more convincingly like a tendril growing out of and attempting to cling to the wall, its curling growth looking for something to hold onto more prominently than before.

FIGURE 23.2 Untitled. © Marcos Sanchez

FIGURE 23.3 Untitled. © Marcos Sanchez

Conclusion

I see a lot of potential for multiple bodies of work, exploring threatened towns around the world and alternative canyon walls that, in time, might be susceptible to being similarly flipped. Coastal skyscrapers becoming lost in the clouds and in doing so end up looking like pilings driven into a murky swirl.

Ironically Sanchez did start us off with some images taken in Venice, the town that is already partially submerged. By pointing us to the sky he didn't choose the obvious way to document the threat facing his subject matter. Instead he did it in a way that starts to speak far more broadly about problems that are likely to remain isolated for only a little longer. Therein lies his subtext and, like all good portraits, the narrative eclipses what we think we are looking at.