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‘The Flight of the Shawl’ is a series dedicated to Seville, a city of hope and joy, always so full of life and, for a while, muted by circumstances.

The chest of beads where shawls, flowers and combs hibernate, impatiently awaiting the anxious hands that come for them every year, was not opened. But this year nobody comes. Inside there is a special shawl, brave and daring, which decides not to wait and to go out to Seville in search of its owner. In Calle Vida some pigeons take flight in fear. The shawl flies confidently in search of the absent shoulders. It crosses the city, finding emptiness and silence in its path. Seville is deserted. From the Plaza de Doña Elvira it flies towards a bar. At least someone will be there. No one, the same emptiness, the same silence that extends throughout the capital. What is happening in Seville? Where are its people? 

The shawl flies and flies, longing to hear the distant echo of the guitars and the singing in the marquees, but it only hears the faint rustle of its fringes in the wind. It flutters towards the Giralda, always so crowded. No one this time! It approaches the Plaza de la Maestranza and hears no pasodobles or clamours. It enters through the Puerta del Príncipe, flies over the bullring, the alley and the stands. Nobody! Where are the brave men? Where are the applause and the white handkerchiefs of the devoted public?

Devastated, it leaves the square on its way to the Royal Alcazar. It walks through the Palace, its halls, courtyards and gardens. No one! From the Alcázar, losing strength and hope, it flies in a last attempt to Judería Street. As it enters a solitary Patio de Banderas with the Giralda looming over it, it is captivated by itand stops dead in its tracks. It rings number twelve, maybe there is someone at home... No one, only silence greets it. 

 

In a last breath it approaches the orange trees. At least the orange blossom, the essence of Seville, will remind it of the vanished joy it misses so much. There, exhausted, it rests on the ground. Motionless, it waits for the city to wake up. It knows that soon friendly hands will come for it.