
This is the first time that a single installation will be the focus of a publication dedicated to art. The installation is called Nube Negra (Black Cloud).
The artwork can be visited until September at the Casa de México in Madrid (Spain). A place that every visitor of arrival in Mdrid should visit
Nube Negra is a creation by Carlos Amorales, who appears to be a Mexican artist whose work is internationally recognized.
The name of the installation is more than fitting, as it consists of thirty thousand black butterflies and moths of hundreds of different species, which cover the walls and ceilings of the Casa de México like a huge black cloud.
Three thousand hand-cut black paper butterflies placed one by one on the walls and ceilings.A creation that deserves a publication all to itself.
The visual impact is undeniable—and I’m not just speaking from my own experience. During one of my visits, two women expressed their surprise and discomfort at the color of the butterflies:
- If only they weren’t black…
I’ve also received different reactions from friends with whom I shared images of the exhibition. One of them spoke to me about Jung’s shadow and the need to integrate it. Another friend told me she loves butterflies, even if they’re black, adding that she would dance with joy surrounded by this cloud of butterflies.

In a note written on a wall, Carlos Amorales explains the intent behind the work:
- It appears to be an ecological warning. It seems to highlight the vulnerability of ecosystems, as the exhibition is a recreation of the monarch butterfly’s migration—an insect that is highly sensitive to changes in the environment.

![]() |
![]() |
|---|
Regardless of the artist’s intention, what seems undeniable is the emotional impact of the installation.
The change in the butterflies’ color—to black—triggers neural networks associated with death or mourning (at least in my/our culture).
The butterfly ceases to be a symbol of life and transformation and becomes a harbinger of disaster.
The sheer number of butterflies—thirty thousand of them—combined with their dark color transports us to other meanings, to another semantic field: cloud, plague, smoke, etc.
The unsettling result—at least that’s how I felt it—stems from a series of artistic interventions. The change in the butterflies’ color alters their meaning: rather than symbolizing life, metamorphosis, or fragility, they become harbingers of darkness. Their sheer number transforms the butterflies into a menacing cloud.
Finally, the change in setting also shapes the work’s meaning. The butterflies are not found in nature but rather seem to be invading our buildings.

Through these techniques, the artist transforms a symbol of hope and renewal into a plague, a black cloud, or pollution.
The various impressions the installation can evoke—as I mentioned earlier—point to a work open to interpretation, in which our perception can also shift across different levels.
A cultural level, in which the artist plays with the clash between the cultural significance of the butterfly (life, metamorphosis, change, delicacy…) and the color black (death, mourning, pain…).
On a more complex level, when the work is viewed as a system, the installation multiplies its impact through the interaction between its various elements: butterflies, color, number, and the shift (from nature to “civilization”).
Certainly, a single black butterfly seen in a large garden would evoke more curiosity than fear. However, this vast “Black Cloud” undoubtedly becomes a powerful magnet for drawing to the consciousness more negative sensations, emotions, and interpretations (a plague, death, ecological disaster).

Patterns
Another, more complex level—in which the butterfly disappears and dissolves into the whole—is that of patterns.
Although for many people, Black Cloud, given what was mentioned earlier, may allude to death, a plague, or pollution, in my case, the work evoked the biological phenomenon of metastasis.
This is undoubtedly due to the pattern represented by Nube Negra. I’m not sure if it’s clearly visible in the photographs, but Nube Negra features undulating shapes that give the impression of movement; a cloud that seems to pause at closed doors and invade spaces when there are no obstacles to hinder its expansion.
As I perceive it, for me it is a pattern of expansion. A dark energy that expands uncontrollably, invading a building (a body) and encountering no limits.
In this case, I do not perceive a butterfly, a group of them, or a system, but rather a pattern that evokes a process of uncontrolled expansion: metastasis.
The installation also evokes trauma for me. In a traumatic experience, a dark energy also expands without limits: an energy that “contaminates” dreams, self-image, relationships (Freud’s “compulsion to repeat”), thoughts, and the body.
I conclude by associating the pattern depicted in this installation with the fires currently ravaging Madrid. Black flames that devour everything in their path.

I hope this analysis of Nube Negra's levels has been helpful to you.
This exercise in applied psychology ends here.

















I hope you liked this post.
Thank you for joining me here.

Banner edited with Canva pro and cropped with ezgif.com.
Avatar created with IA Ideogram.

Translated into English from my native language Spanish with Google Translator.
All photographs are my own.
🕸️🕸️ 🕸️ 🕷️



