Al Jubail Island - Abu Dhabi
15.11.25 - 04.01.26
Six N. Five
Six N. Five x Manar Abu Dhabi
In the boundless stillness of the desert, where the line separating heaven and earth dissolves into
a single breath of light, Skyward emerges as both sculpture and experience, a threshold between
worlds, a silent meditation on gravity, ascension, and the human impulse to transcend the visible.
Created by Ezequiel Pini, known as Six N. Five, and presented by Plan X Gallery, the work transforms technological precision into spiritual poetics. It invites viewers into a moment of stillness where matter meets illusion, and where reflection becomes revelation.
A vast, inclined mirrored plane forms the physical and conceptual base of the work, an artificial
horizon that gathers the shifting sky, the golden desert, and the ephemeral movement of those
who approach it. The surface does not simply reflect; it listens, absorbs, and reinterprets.
Each moment of light, every breeze of sand, becomes part of the piece’s evolving image. Skyward
exists not as a fixed form, but as an event, a living equation between environment, technology,
and perception. At the center rests a hand-carved Gabbro rock, sourced from the earth near Dubai, a dense,
ancient stone forged by volcanic processes millions of years ago. Its dark mineral body retains the
memory of immense geological pressure and planetary time. Shaped manually, through human labor and touch, the stone becomes a gesture of devotion: a return to the archetypal act of sculpting, of giving form to the formless. It bridges epochs, from the slow violence of the Earth’s crust to the delicacy of human intention. The rock and the mirror form the two poles of Skyward: the earthly and the celestial, the finite and
the infinite.
The rock speaks of origin, gravity, and endurance, the raw material of existence. The mirror, by contrast, dissolves materiality into light, becoming a metaphor for perception, transformation, and transcendence.
Between them unfolds a dialogue of opposites: permanence and impermanence, silence and motion, density and reflection. The result is an equilibrium that never stabilizes, a sculpture in perpetual negotiation with time. As the sun moves across the sky, the mirrored surface transforms. At dawn, the surface awakens in silence, capturing the first pale reflections of the desert sky. As darkness returns, constellations begin to move, to cluster, to draw invisible geometries across the mirrored plane, transforming the night into a living map of light, a breathtaking choreography between the celestial and the terrestrial.
Skyward thus turns the passage of light into a visible architecture of time, where every second becomes an unrepeatable composition of reflection, shadow, and cosmic motion. The viewer, upon approaching, becomes part of this geometry, their body reflected, inverted, suspended between heaven and earth. In that fleeting image lies the essence of the work: to see oneself within the infinite, to perceive one’s own fragility mirrored in the vast stillness of the world.
In this sense, Skyward transforms observation into a spiritual act. Not the act of looking at something, but of being looked at by the universe. Unlike many works that celebrate technological mastery, Skyward reclaims technology as a tool for contemplation rather than domination. It uses digital precision to speak the language of silence. It does not overwhelm; it whispers. The mirror, a recurring symbol of illusion and vanity, here becomes sacred, not an interface that separates, but one that connects. It reflects not our image, but our longing to belong to something larger, eternal, immeasurable. In the context of Manar Abu Dhabi, Skyward resonates as a monument to human aspiration, a work that reminds us that progress is not merely vertical, but introspective. To rise is also to return; to ascend is to remember where we come from.
The Gabbro stone anchors this idea, a relic of the Earth that resists the ephemerality of screens
and data. It embodies endurance in an age obsessed with the instant. Ultimately, Skyward is less a sculpture and more a space of transformation, an instrument through which light, matter, and consciousness meet.
It offers a place for pause, for quiet revelation, for reconnection with what technology often
obscures: our sense of presence, our awareness of the infinite. Standing before Skyward, one does not simply see an artwork. One experiences the tension between being and becoming, between what is reflected and what cannot be captured. The piece exists in that sacred in-between, where the visible meets the invisible, and art returns to its oldest function: to lift our gaze from the ground toward the unknown.




