The German language is astonishingly clever when it comes to naming specific feelings. A single word encloses what could be barely said with a sentence in Spanish – and could be better clarified with a poem. Feeling one with Nature while one is alone in the woods: Waldeinsamkeit. It’s one of those German words with such a dense meaning that it seems to weigh one hundred tons, like it had Schiller, Novalis, and even Heidegger inside it, in some kind of bizarre carriage.

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          Irene Cruz (Madrid, 1987) sees the woods with eyes similar to those of the German Romantics of the 19th century – a place for contemplation, made up of lights and shades, and paths that lead to the relief of the clearings or the isolation of luxuriance. There is no doubt that coming back to the woods and getting immersed in its tranquility is a primal act that lets us gain consciousness of our own body and of the way it is one with the Nature around it.  

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          The peace of the woods sharpens our senses, which have become numb because of the overwhelming amount of sensitive data provided by urban environments. But this does not make them more reliable; it is like a false, slightly tense peace. At any moment it may get broken by sounds and shadows that can be interpreted in unexpected ways. Imagination flies before the chirp of what could be a bird, before the creaking leaves under our feet, before the wind between the branches, or even before our own rapid breathing. This sound piece by Alan Gleeson (Dublin, 1975) reinterprets the sounds collected in natural environments in the same way: raising and unfolding them, giving them new, personal meanings.

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          Irene Cruz’s composition is a metaphor of the alliance between the “newfound me” and Nature, explaining the complexity of Waldeinsamkeit without using one single word – only pictures and gestures. The loneliness of the woods favors the encounter with the “transcendental me”, and Irene embraces it as an act of naïve gratitude. Meanwhile, a hand sinks in the ivies while the other one grasps her own body – feeling their differences and feeling their union.

Ana Sanfrutos