Can an image help heal a pain that has been festering for decades?

BilbaoPhotographer Ixone Sádaba (Bilbao, 1977) has arrived at Azkuna Centroa in Bilbao with a striking proposal. The exhibition on the failed Lemoiz nuclear power plant begins with ten full-scale projections of the building's ruins, as the exhibition's title suggests. Scale 1:1Construction of Lemoiz began in 1972, and to prevent it from being put into operation, amidst a wave of popular protests, ETA murdered five people responsible for the works and workers. Two more people died in this anti-nuclear conflict. In 1984, the debate about what to do with the building remains open. "One of the things I propose is that we should not turn our backs on Lemoiz, but rather observe it, observe our past, our present, and our future," says Ixone Sádaba. "It's not a contemplative but a cognitive one, being aware of what we see, as is the case with the photographic exercise itself."

Sádaba speaks of Lemoiz, emphasizing the "respect" she feels for the dead left behind by the works, and says that bringing the central concrete millstone into the museum in the exhibition hall is an attempt to address the "more important debates" taking place in its surroundings.

Sádaba was seven years old when Lemoiz's work was interrupted, and the power plant was left in the back of his mind. During the COVID pandemic, he found it again on a motorcycle ride and decided he wanted to dive in. "The only story that had transcended was that of the conflict, but there are many other things in Lemoiz, including the fact that the access is closed, the advance of vegetation, the Anthropocene, and the question of the staircase, which is not contemporary, but typical of a medieval castle, an imperial staircase. I can't cover all the topics. debate," says the artist.

For the exhibition's curator, critic and professor Carles Guerra, Lemoiz functions as "a time capsule." "From the moment construction began in 1972 until 1984, the plant absorbed layers of history, and recently the plants have made it their own. There's always the fear of opening this time capsule and discovering details of the past that are somehow painful," says Guerra.

After returning to the plant, Sádaba applied for a BBVA Leonardo grant to continue the search. Despite being awarded the grant, he had to wait six months to access it. In the meantime, he reviewed the archive of some 7,000 photographs of the works held by Iberdrola, some of which are on display. "It's very important that the project involved producing new images, but also interpreting images from the past," says the curator.

Violent interventions in natural spaces

Sometimes Sádaba isn't satisfied with photography alone, and he uses other elements to delve deeper into the subject he's addressing. In this case, the exhibition, which will remain open until April 27, includes installations made with fluorescent-lit display cases he found in the power plant's reception area: "I often say that combining the photography with the object helps me ground these photographs, because otherwise, they're behind it." Also on display is a somewhat unsettling reproduction of the viewing platform built so that the Count of Cadagua, Pedro Careaga, could observe the progress of the construction work. "These objects may seem like simple displays, but in reality, they are objects with a financial, technical, and political nature," Guerra explains.

The tour concludes with another series of large-format projections, now made with exterior images. "The reservoir built to cool the plant was built on a cove that was directly closed with a dam and dried up. These images also capture the violence of how this natural space was intervened, and what's more, it was done without the permission of the city councils," the artist denounces.