The exhibition Like Water on Stone does not take place in the comfortable realm of contemplation; it demands involvement. Here, art is not presented as an object, but as a living organism pulsing with the urgency of a planet in jeopardy. Josefina Robirosa and Nicolás García Uriburu not only confront us with environmental devastation; they invite us to traverse it, to see ourselves in that fractured mirror where nature and humanity are inseparable.

Robirosa's paintings are jungles of mystery, spaces where the vegetal breathes with an almost carnal intensity. Her shadowy landscapes are not mere refuges: they are ecosystems of desire, fertility, and transformation. In her work, the human and the natural merge, not as opposites, but as inevitable allies of a world on the brink of rupture. It is a forest libido that reminds us that, before being human, we are earth.

Uriburu, on the other hand, shouts. His green monochrome is not an aesthetic resource; it is a political act, a declaration of war against forgetfulness. His objects and interventions do not ask for permission, do not suggest: they demand attention. In pieces like Victims and Memory, his green is a cry of alarm that shakes, disturbs, and persists. Uriburu not only paints nature, he amplifies it, turning it into a weapon against collective apathy.

The curation intertwines these two voices in a powerful dialogue, where forms and colors are charged with an almost palpable tension. Robirosa and Uriburu do not just share a space; they collaboratively construct an environmental manifesto that transcends their own languages. Here, art is resistance. It is a reminder that there is no neutrality in a collapsing world.

But this exhibition does not settle for denouncing; it poses a challenge. It invites us to dismantle narratives of exploitation and rebuild links with what we have taken for granted: water, stone, air. The works are not solutions; they are open questions, maps towards a future we can still build.

In a time where noise and indifference seem inevitable, Like Water on Stone becomes a firm call. It compels us to confront the essential, to understand that our relationship with nature is not a choice, it is a fact. Robirosa and Uriburu shout at us, from their worlds so different and yet so complementary, that the only way to inhabit this planet is with respect, care, and above all, consciousness.

This is not just green art. It is art that breathes. It is art that hurts. It is art that, like water on stone, insists.