I think we can all agree that there was once a legendary woman who fought with spirit across the fields of France for at least a hundred years—her name was Juana^[1]Juana de Aizpuru. And we can also agree that not in France, but in Spain, we are doubly fortunate to have had not only her but our own version as well. Her fiery hair also battled through the halls of ARCO for at least another hundred years. And now, in 2025, meteorologists have left us a little wordplay, stripping the letter “u” from a storm^[2]Jana is the name given to the storm that affected several provinces in Spain at the beginning of March, source RTVE that, just like the two women before it —both with “u”— hit IFEMA with force, while inside, the great storm of art in Spain was brewing.

Leaving out the weather phenomena for obvious reasons, the rest of us all had to take shelter inside the pavilion. The Juanas and Janas didn’t, but for everyone else, other waters, even deeper, were starting to spill over. From every stand, every dossier, every vanishing point, electric currents were knocking down the umbrellas over our minds, one by one. Yes, another year up to our necks in water, another chance to learn how to dive into the intricacies of the only waves that seem to surf the world. Another year to remind ourselves that only artists seem to know how to explain why we keep flapping, barely breathing, above stagnant, foul-smelling waters.

And here are just a few of the countless proposals. After all, art, like water, is always in motion. And why not? Haven’t we always said that you can’t put up barriers against the sea? These were the islands I landed on at IFEMA—where, like in an epic tale, I could finally drink a little fresh water.

The first stop on the expedition was Callirrhoë from Athens. It couldn’t have been any other way. If water is the guiding metaphor of this text, we must start at the very beginning. Besides, Athens is currently a real hotspot. My editor, María (another flagship woman), introduced me to its founder Olympia Tzortzi, and everything she told us was pure magic. For starters, it’s a young gallery, founded and run by one of those women who make you understand why the 21st century belongs to them. She also perfectly embodies the new wave of Greek artists who are reviving Athens. I highly recommend visiting their website (if you’re not in Greece) and checking out the stunning maps by Yorgos Stamkopoulos —because, to me, that’s what they are.His continents dissolve on the canvas as if made of confetti. And, believe it or not, Olympia told us the following story:

“Callirrhoë means the energy of a flowing stream of water. It’s a term from Greek mythology, and we chose it for the gallery because when we first entered the space, it was nearly in ruins. However, on the wall, there was a faucet. We turned it on, and suddenly, water started gushing out. It was pure magic; it could only be a sign that the current was on our side.”

Yorgos Stamkopoulos at Callirrhoë. Courtesy of Callirrhoë.

We continue with another space that, this time, was not run by a woman. In fact, it’s called El CHiCO (the boy in English), and I think it needs no introduction. It’s one of those galleries that have also redefined Madrid, and its owner, Javier Aparicio, is one of those men who truly deserve a place alongside the great women. His proposal was filled with subtlety. Maya Pita-Romero invited us to delve into the mysteries of the body, and its inevitable expiration dates. Remember the vanitas paintings from the Baroque era? Well, her installations once again confront us with the emptiness of it all. We decay day by day, yet we are still, as they were in the 17th century, arrogant (or rather, cowardly) enough to avoid facing it. And then there was Cristina Stolhe, who manages to infuse her photographs with that kind of fog that, in English, we’d call Intriguing, Disturbing, or simply Beautiful.

Maya Pita-Romero at El CHiCO. Courtesy of El CHiCO.

A special mention goes to Lara Fluxà from Bombon Projects, another hot space—this time from Barcelona, a city also born from the sea. Fluxà won the Pilar Forcada ART Situations Prize, presented by the formidable woman at the helm, ARCO’s director Maribel López. Her winning piece, Flure, is an ode to the inherent strength of fragility, how beautiful. And once again, it’s feminine energy reminds us that, when it comes to nature, we’re doing everything wrong—horribly wrong. The infamous Trump-era motto “drill, baby, drill” should already belong to the memories of a more distant and, above all, much uglier world.

Lara Fluxá at bombon projects. Courtesy of bombon projects. Photos: Roberto Ruiz

Another special mention goes to Tadej Pogačar from the Slovakian gallery P74. Ljubljana is about to become another place to be—just give it time. His piece School’s Out 1999 (part of a project spanning 1997–2013) was absolutely marvelous. I’ll just say this: if I had the money, I would’ve bought it right there. It is a stunning collage that walks the fine line between darkness and tenderness.

Tadej Pogačar at P74. Courtesy of P74

And, of course, an honorable mention to the immortal Helga^[3]Helga de Alvear. Thank you for existing. One of your Donald Judd was, to me, the most refined work at the entire fair.

Not to mention Chaveli Sifre at Embajada Gallery from Puerto Rico. A dock to disembark upon, where one could smell the works—questioning the dominance of the eye as the sole sensory instrument in art.

Four works of Chaveli Sifre at Embajada Gallery. Courtesy of Embajada and the artist.

And now, we must wrap things up due to space constraints—though we could continue sailing on and on, like crew members of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. And how shall we close this journey? Well, we’ll finish where we started—in Madrid. The Ryder Projects, the brilliant Carmen and Roberto, brought yet another fiery-haired legend. Closing the allegories of this article, Suzanne Treister and her 1993 piece Software/Q. Would you recognize a Virtual Paradise?/Serv-Wel transported us to the nostalgia of a world stored on floppy disks. It was a theme that has now become worthy of an oil painting. And what a painting—I wish I could have bought it. The ’90s have always fascinated me.

On the left in the foreground, Suzanne Treister at The Ryder Projects, ARCO 2025. Courtesy of The Ryder.

And here, we finally surface, reluctantly letting go of the oxygen tank that allowed for this deep dive. The artists —yes, they— have once again been the air that made life possible. A gust of wind lasting a week at IFEMA, while the water continues to rise around us.

(Cover image: View of The Ryder Projects’ booth at ARCO 2025. Courtesy: The Ryder.)