For the Record

El Tren le Arrancó la Cabeza! (The Train Chopped his Head!)

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 22:56:00 +0000

This is the original article published by Alarma! magazine in 1986 that inspired and it is sang in the opera ¡Únicamente la Verdad! Notice the photograph of Camelia la Texana crying next to the mutilated body of Eleazar Pacheco Moreno on the top left of the page.

Este el el artículo original publicado por la revista Alarma! en 1986 que inspiró y es cantado en la ópera ¡Únicamente la Verdad! Es de notar la fotografía en la parte superior izquierda de la página en la que aparece Camelia la Texana llorando al lado del cuerpo mutilado de Eleazar Pacheco Moreno.

VAZQUEZ, Juan Pablo: "El Tren le Arrancó la Cabeza," Alarma!, no 1191, February 26 of 1986, Mexico, p. 29.

¡Únicamente la Verdad!

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 17:30:00 +0000

Last week on August 8th and 9th was the world premiere of the opera ¡Únicamente la Verdad! (Only the Truth!) composed by my sister Gabriela Ortiz. I put together the libretto, the video and conceptualized the visuals.

The opera was presented by the Indiana University Jacobs School of Music in Indiana University at the Buskirk-Chumley Theater.

More than ten years ago my sister asked to develop the idea of an opera. Trying to figure out what to do I came across an article of Alarma! magazine from 1986. Alarma! is a sensationalist and morbid Mexican tabloid that claims to show the truth and what others do not dare to show. This truth consists of explicit images usually of death and mutilated corpses and the stories around them (you can check the link to Alarma! at your own risk and discretion). Any of these stories is a tragedy worthy of an opera but there was something particular and interesting about El Tren le Arrancó la Cabeza! (The Train Chopped his Head!). Eleazar Pacheco Moreno was a 22 year old migrant worker who after being robbed committed suicide in Ciudad Juarez placing his neck on the railroad track to be beheaded. According to Alarma! he was accompanied by his lover Camelia la Texana. They even included a picture of her crying next to the mutilated body. Could she be the original character of Contrabando y Traición (Smuggling and Betrayal) the popular song popularized by Los Tigres del Norte considered to be the first drug smuggling corrido? I started doing research and found interviews with her in La Jornada (an important liberal Mexican newspaper) and TV Azteca (a big Mexican network). However these were from two very different women. The woman interviewed by TV Azteca was Agustina Ramirez and claimed to have stopped smuggling drugs to dedicate her life to the lord. The woman interviewed by La Jornada was called Camelia Maria and claimed to be from Topolobampo, Sinaloa and never to have smuggled drugs. I also did interview a man from El Paso called Mario Borunda that claimed to have known her and that she was a tall, drug addict, prostitute born in Socorro, Texas. Elijah Wald in his book about Narcocorridos interviewed Ángel Gonzalez who is the composer of Contrabando y Traición. Gonzalez says he invented the story. He knew a Camelia in Los Angeles but she was not from Texas and she did not smuggled drugs.

All this contradictory information forms the plot of the opera and these are its characters. It has the structure of an experimental documentary where I try to reconstruct the truthful story of a myth or perhaps the mythological story of a truth.

I wanted to develop a system where the singers would sang in front of a green screen to be placed in real time in footage of the original locations of the incidents and interviews. The idea was to deconstruct the creation of a cinematic or televised representation and to contrast it and confront it with the live performance. For this purpose it was crucial the collaboration of former partner in crime in Low Rez Crimez Konstantinos Mavromichalis from Urban Visuals in Vancouver. He brought the latest VJ technology and practices to the norteño gesamkunstwerk. We had to compromise and learn the theatrical conventions of the genre.

I would like to thank the musical director Carmen Helena Tellez for her involved support and development of this project with all its passionate discussions, the Stage Director Chía Patiño for putting up with us and for showing us how it gets done, Sound Designers Rodrigo Sigal and Francisco Colasanto, Costume Designer Angela Burkhardt, Managing Producer and Coca Cola Sommelier Mark Brennan Doerries, Technical Director Jacob Lish for his hard work and expertise, Asisstant, Technical Director and Prop Mistress Tina Hanagan, all the singers but in particular Heather Youngquist and Meghan Dewald who were the Camelias, Chris Lysack with his stupendous voice who was the journalist César Güemes from La Jornada, Jonathan Green who gave a lot of presence to Elijah Wald and Jerome Michael S. Síbulo who play the Señor de El Paso and was my favorite character of the opera.

Also I would like to specially thank Jimmy Mendiola for his help filming the video of the decapitation, Miljohn Ruperto for the special effects, Ricky Delaveaga for his help in the edition and Alejandro Dávila who played a very handsome version of the decapitated Eleazar.

There were interesting comments made by Brian Dickie the General Director of the Chicago Opera Theater and a review by Peter Jacobi from the Herald Times.

Algunas reflexiones sobre la producción artística y la escritura de la historia.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Tue, 15 Jul 2008 20:53:00 +0000

El miércoles 2 de julio tuve la oportunidad de participar en la mesa redonda Algunas reflexiones sobre la producción artística y la escritura de la historia en el Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires. Esta fue en relación a la presentación de la exposición La Era de la Discrepancia en dicho museo. Moderó la discusión la artista argentina que alguna vez radicó en México Magdalena Jitrik. Ella aparece en la serie de fotografías Retratos de Vida y Muerte que tomé en Guanajuato en 1984 de la cuál les muestro una imagen. Participó también la historiadora de arte y crítica Valeria González. A continuación les presento su texto que presenta una visión clara e inteligente que en su distancia contribuye a una lectura mas objetiva de la exposición.

Desde 1998 empecé a escribir para la página de arte del diario Pagina 12. Fue con motivo de la Bienal de San Pablo, y desde entonces solo escribo mas o menos una vez por año, y solamente en ocasión de muestras grandes, no grandes en términos de tamaño sino en términos de la pretensión de sus hipótesis. A veces creo que mi labor curatorial mas importante, donde siento mas claro el aporte de mi pensamiento, no pasa tanto por las exposiciones que he curado sino por las exposiciones cuyo discurso he intentado analizar críticamente. Las relaciones que a través de la escritura he establecido con las exposiciones de otros me van dibujando a mi misma, porque no hay modo de pensar críticamente, como bien dicen Olivier Debroise y C Medina en su introducción, si no es desde una posición parcial y apasionada. Por supuesto, ustedes saben: la calidad de las argumentaciones, el bagaje académico, la solidez teórica… pero en definitiva todo ese “saber” se pone en juego para argumentar a favor de lo uno quiere que sea una exposición. El eje es emocional y es político.

Menciono algo de estas variadas relaciones:

La documenta X, sobre la que no pude -a esa edad- construir distancia porque no fue una muestra que visité sino que me hizo.

La documenta 11, cuyos presupuestos forcé hasta llevarlos a un grado de radicalidad, incluso traicionando sus gestos de corrección política.

La ultima bienal de San Pablo, cuya adscripción política y su voluntaria falta de originalidad me emocionaron y defendí por sobre los resultados.

Muestras que me horrorizaron ideológica y estéticamente, como la bienal de San Pablo de 2005.

Muestras que aborrecí ideológicamente pero me cautivaron en su sensibilidad estética, como la ultima documenta.

En fin… toda esta introducción para decir que este proyecto “La era de la discrepancia” coincide punto por punto con todo lo que yo hubiera querido hacer, o que hiciéramos, si hubiese estado en ese lugar. Y para que se entienda en el pleno sentido de la palabra y no como una complacencia circunstancial.

Señalo algunos de estos puntos:

La verdadera, trabajada vinculación entre curaduria e historia del arte. Es la falta endémica, ubicua, de trabajo historiográfico lo que precisamente ha convertido a la curaduria en una pura disciplina escenografica: inventar un guión atrayente, original, y ponerlo en escena a través de obras de otros.

El grado de necesidad de su existencia que la exposición logra probar a través de su trabajo. Nos deja claro que no se trata solo de una exposición interesante o bien hecha, sino de una exposición necesaria. En el sistema global del arte, indisociable del turismo y la industria cultural, con la multiplicación creciente de bienales y megaexposiciones de arte tenemos la sensación de un espectáculo cuya lógica de recambio es tan vistosa como banal. Los efectos de una exposición duran lo que dura la exposición. “La era…” tiene el peso de necesidad de una reparación histórica. No otra interpretación de la historia del arte mexicano, sino la detección (la construcción) de un vacío en esa historia. El primer eje de la exposición es la construcción de ese vacío: la enunciación de esa laguna a través de la reunión de pruebas de todos los costados posibles: la historia del arte, la curaduria, la política cultural estatal, el funcionamiento de premios y adquisiciones (el concepto de patrimonio), las conductas del coleccionismo, las necesidades ideológicas, la lógica del mercado, y por fin, los estereotipos de lectura de lo mexicano desde la perspectiva del sistema global del arte.

¿Cómo se escribe la historia de lo fue mantenido al margen de la historia? Se preguntan los curadores. Lo primero es la construcción de ese margen. Que involucra un momento de pensamiento critico negativo “La era…” involucra un nivel de denuncia poco corriente en los discursos culturales, aun los disidentes o no oficiales. Es valiente y sólido a la vez. Porque no bastaría la pasión de una acusación general sino estuviera acompañada por un mapa minucioso de prácticas concretas, de la suma de prácticas concretas públicas y privadas, nacionales e internacionales, que constituyeron esta laguna. Nos referimos, claro esta (y es la hipótesis central que motiva, que mueve a este proyecto) a la supresión de las prácticas estético-políticas a partir de los 60, radicalizadas en la atmósfera de ese año simbólico que marca el inicio de esta historia y de esta muestra: 1968.

Y luego de este momento critico negativo, implica otro momento de propuesta constructiva. Porque para demostrar que algo es una laguna en la historia debo demostrar no solo la existencia de ese algo (reunión y reconstrucción de documentos, testimonios, objetos…) sino además probar la relevancia histórica de ese algo. Demostrar que esas prácticas combativas, radicales, de los 60 y los 70 son visibles en las huellas que han dejado en el arte posterior. Este es el objetivo que estructura el discurso historiográfico del catalogo, la articulación de los 9 núcleos, y por supuesto también el guión visual del montaje.

Es muy fuerte hablar de una “era” de la discrepancia. La palabra discrepancia esta tomada directamente del discurso de Javier Barros Sierra, el rector que defendió la autonomía universitaria durante las represiones del 68 y que destaco la disidencia como motor del pensamiento y el intercambio. Hay allí una adscripción ideológica. La palabra “era” le da un sobretono: no es lo mismo decir “época”, “periodo”, que “era”. Diccionario: Punto fijo o fecha determinada de un suceso, desde el cual se empiezan a contar los años (La era cristiana), Cada uno de los grandes períodos de la evolución geológica o cósmica (era cuaternaria); Extenso período histórico caracterizado por una gran innovación en las formas de vida y de cultura (era atómica). Postula el 68 como emergencia de una clave de articulación entre arte y poder (la discrepancia) que rige hasta la actualidad. Que sobretodo es puesta en relación a la generación de los artistas mexicanos de los 90 rápidamente globalizados (G Orozco, Ruben Ortiz, y los demás).

Podemos estar de acuerdo o no en la constitución de esta genealogía, pero en cuanto a la posición política y ética de los curadores no hay más que celebrar cuando afirman que la inserción, el éxito de visibilidad obtenido por el arte mexicano en el mundo globalizado debe involucrarnos en una renegociación de las historias del arte de las periferias. Eso seria servirse del existo internacional: volverlo un recurso para trabajar lo propio. O, como diría Deleuze, poder tornar los obstáculos en medios.

Podemos decir (y dice el refrán popular: lo perfecto es enemigo de lo bueno) que no todos los enlaces entre estos 9 núcleos son igualmente sólidos (*). Pero si que una buena exposición no pretende exponer verdades conclusivas sino plantear un territorio para el debate, para seguir trabajando. Podemos, además, seguir trabajando sobre el discurso historiográfico de esta muestra porque A) este discurso es en si polifónico (varios autores) y fundamentalmente es explicito al detalle, obsesivamente. Todos sus supuestos y decisiones concientes están escritos. B) porque comprende la constitución de un archivo. Podemos generar nuevas discrepancias sobre la era de la discrepancia porque el proyecto ha puesto a disposición pública los testimonios que utiliza como documentación probatoria. Como dijo Ranciere, en el Maestro Ignorante, el documento es la instancia material que habilita la igualdad de condiciones de las inteligencias.

La importancia del catálogo. Si lo curatorial se subordina al trabajo historiográfico, también el catalogo. La espesura de sus textos, la articulación conceptual de su secuencia, la claridad en la selección y ordenamiento de los testimonios gráficos y visuales. Un catalogo enorme, lleno de contenido, y carente de todo recurso seductor superficial en términos de diseño y edición. Un libro de estudio. Un catalogo que es mas que la memoria o el recuerdo institucional de una muestra. Un libro que sabe que su destino temporal excede la circunstancia efímera de la cita presencial de una exposición de arte, y que sabe también que por su formato comunicativo puede también sortear las limitaciones inherentes a una exposición de arte (es decir EN el catalogo están las claves para que la exposición no sea percibida como una yuxtaposición de partes).

Por ultimo, menciones particulares donde la percepción de relevancia se une a mis preferencias profesionales y emocionales, como ser el contundente rescate de la fotografía documental mexicana, y la mención continua, al lado de los artistas y sus producciones, de espacios de debate y gestión tan queridos para mí como los Coloquios mexicanos de fotografía latinoamericana y los espacios de gestión independiente como Curare y tantos otros.

(*) Ruben: en este sentido, preferí no decirlo explícitamente en la charla, pero para mí el punto mas débil es la conexión entre toda esta tradición setentista “subterránea”, que perdura más allá de los 70, y el arte contemporáneo mexicano de visibilidad internacional. La conexión con los artistas “neoconceptuales” de los 90 la justifico a partir de la estrategia política de servirse de una plataforma dada para insertar, mas allá de México, una nueva historia del arte mexicano. Pero el único logro seria ese, el logro de un escenario eficaz para decir lo verdaderamente importante, que es el rescate de ese pasado. Creo que la relevancia histórica de ese pasado, sus huellas no necesariamente deberían ser comprendidas en términos de un “rendimiento” visible en el arte posterior. Me hubiese gustado mas que las únicas líneas de hilván se hubieran confiado a la fotografía documental y a la vitalidad de los espacios de arte alternativos, las dos instancias verdaderamente distintivas, creo, de México en el contexto latinoamericano. Como decir: la única herencia constatable del 68 pasa desde el proyecto fotográfico Chiapas hasta la Panadería, etc. Pero más me enoja la inclusión (¿Por qué necesaria?) de Julio Galán y en general todo el apartado titulado “identidad y utopía”. Creo que el remozado titulo no logra desplazar el discurso posmoderno “neomexicanista” que los curadores dicen deplorar. Obvio: los curadores quieren problematizar esa supuesta “historia del arte instantánea” que rodea al éxito repentino de la generación de los 90. Es obvio que ese mito no sirve y que hay que estudiar la genealogía de este arte. Pero, a diferencia del estudio acerca del 68 y sus proyecciones, este estudio acerca de los 90, aun luego de “La era…” esta aun en pañales, es todavía una asignatura pendiente.

Valeria González

Universidad de Buenos Aires

Hi 'n' Lo.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 00:11:00 +0000

Finally Hi 'n' Lo had its debut at the 01SJ global festival of art on the edge. The scissor lift danced a couple of times to a track composed by Jorge Verdín (a member of Clorofila of the Nortec Collective). The music was done with samples of hydraulic sounds, the scissor lift and others made by the tools we used to fabricate it. Salvador "Chava" Muñoz did the inspired hydraulic engineering and hit the switches. This piece was made in collaboration with The Fabric Workshop and Museum, Philadelphia. Additional support by MACLA and 01SJ. The paint job, chrome, rims and grill were done by ADM Works. Particular thanks to Javier Valdivieso and painter Rigo Hernandez. Transportation by Tony Ortiz from Backyard Boogie Hydraulics. The photographs are by Patrick "The Dude" Miller.

The customized machine and some of the original designs will be on display at MACLA in San Jose until August 8. If in the bay area stop by to check the missing link between Brancusi, constructivism and the low rider pick up movement of the late eighties and early nineties.

Changing Ties.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 03:46:00 +0000

Nery Lemus (a very active artist who is doing his MFA in Calarts right now) invited me to participate in a show that he is curating at Avenue 50 Studio, Inc. in Highland Park. The show is trying to foster a cross cultural dialogue between Latinos and African Americans.

He wanted me to present a series of baseball caps that I started doing in the early nineties. I would like to take advantage of this opportunity to post a text I wrote about them.

"Colors": Xicano Progeny, Investigative Agents, Executive Council and Other Representatives from the Sovereign State of Aztlán, The Mexican Museum, San Francisco, 1995, p. 36

Uniforms, banners, colors, flags and logos have been used to represent in a very attractive way different sport teams. Going to a sport stadium is an intense aesthetic experience. Sport teams usually represent a place that competes within certain rules against another. It is quite common to find that certain sport teams use images and names that are associated with certain groups of people not always related directly with the teams. The Cleveland Indians do not necessarily represent the Native-Americans or the San Diego Padres a catholic community and most of the Boston Celtics are African American. Sometimes the signifiers that are used by certain teams in different contexts reflect specific historical affiliations. The Scottish soccer team from Glasgow called "The Celtics" is supported by the Republican community in Northern Ireland; while the Glasgow “Rangers" is supported by the Loyalists.

Baseball caps are widely used in the streets as a popular form of expression. In Los Angeles teams emblems have been reappropiated by different local communities and gangs, for example the Bloods wear red, like the Chicago Bulls while the Crips wear blue the colour of the Georgetown Hoyas. On the other hand, Chicanos like to sport Cleveland Browns paraphernalia giving expression to pride on brown color, while L.A. Kings caps are now associated with Rodney King and Martin Luther King.

In altering, recodifying and recontextualizing signs already given in baseball caps I want to comment on the relation between aesthetics, history, mass media, culture, fashion, politics etc. and different communities divided by arbitrary rules and signs like sport teams.

Since my youth days in little league I've been collecting baseball caps. My collection of altered caps started in 1991 at the Watts Drum Festival when my African American teacher, Joe Lewis gave me a Malcolm X cap to wear instead of what he called, "ethnic caps" (referring to the ones with Latin motifs I use to wear). I wanted to use it in a way that would relate to Latinos and created the "Malcolm Mex" cap.

Since then I've been travelling with my caps having them customized by different artisans in the Americas and Europe. Laponian designs contrast with the Minnesota Viking's logo, while Native American bead work decorates the Chicago Blackhawks cap. In Guatemala a Mayan Indian embroidered what he considered were Aztec decorations on a San Diego Aztecs cap substituting an eagle with the local quetzal. Although I played baseball in what was called the "Mayan" little league I haven't found a Mayan team lately, unless we would consider the Carolina Jaguars one). In the swapmeets of L.A. the hip hop community creates it's own designs using computer operated stitching machines that are a lot faster than the manual embroidery of the indigenous artisans who earn a lot less for their work in the third world. These caps not only reflect the complex readings of signs within our cultures but also reflect the enormous differences which exist between labour and wealth from the first to the third world.

Even though most people outside the United States might not have prior knowledge or relate to the teams; the caps on the other hand are becoming widely universal fashion. In Guatemala the most colorful caps are preferred, while in Europe the darker caps are more popular or the ones that have famous rapper connotations.

Ultimately these objects while they have been appropriated as a universal (MTV) dress code, they address issues of economical, cultural exchange and difference.

Barbie Parachutes Onto Puerto Vallarta's Wal-Mart

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 20:01:00 +0000

Sand Castles, DV, 60 min (looped continously), Raza Cósmica Productions, Puerto Vallarta, 2008

Nuevo Vallarta, DV, 60 min (looped continously), Raza Cósmica Productions, 2008.

This text was published in relation to the art festival Puerto Vallarta Arte Contemporaneo 08. "Barbie Parachutes Onto Puerto Vallarta's Wal-Mart," Puerto Vallarta Arte Contemporaneo 08. Extended Borders: Shifting Cartographies, May 28-June 1 2008, Puerto Vallarta, p. 4.

Boundaries constitute obstacles designed to be crossed by tourists, inmigrants, capital funds, products, handcrafts, internationally renowned artists, collectors, etc.

After cruise ships unload their passengers in Puerto Vallarta, the tourists' first destination is the handcraft-selling Wal-Mart. On the other hand, immigrants from Jalisco can find Tejuino (a non-alcoholic, fermented corn beverage) in Los Angeles Mac Arthur Park.

Both destinations become replicas of the places where their visitors originated. Thus, Puerto Vallarta experiences a hasty urban development characterized by skyscrapers, while Southern California shows samples of promiscuous forms of Mexican vernacular architecture. Large cities try to capitalize on culture and turn it into another tourist attraction. Other tourist destinations, striving for a share of visitors' purchasing power, generate hybrid cultural products. The parachuting Barbie constitutes an example of this. From my personal experience, Barbie flies and hovers better than the pretentiously trendy two-line kites sold in Europe and Malibu.

The purchasing power derived from the United States' Social Security system has decreased, and many retired seniors move to Mexican destinations such as Puerto Vallarta because the cost of living is less expensive. According to recent statistical data, the Social Security system in the United States is staving off collapse in part because of taxes paid by the immigrant work force; many of these immigrants are Mexicans. So Social Security in the United States has a direct dependence on the immigrants' contribution to the economy.

Art fairs in places such as Miami or even Mexico City become interesting destinations for collectors who travel to those cities-they are then able to avoid the need to visit the various cities where international galleries represented in these fairs are located. Artists such as Damien Hirst, who is British, find it useful to produce art at Mexican beaches while obtaining a greater profit by working with a local gallery. On the other hand, some Mexican artists consider it viable to create work for international markets while eliminating links with their local reality.

This is how contemporary art arrives in Puerto Vallarta, and vice-versa.

Barbie Desciende en Paracaidas en el Wal-Mart de Puerto Vallarta.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 22:42:00 +0000

Este texto fue escrito y publicado en relación al festival Puerto Vallarta Arte Contemporaneo 08. "Barbie Desciende en Paracaidas en el Wal-Mart de Puerto Vallarta", Puerto Vallarta Arte Contemporaneo 08. Fronteras Extendidas: Cartografías Cambiantes, 28 mayo-1 junio, Puerto Vallarta, p. 4.

Las fronteras constituyen obstáculos diseñados para ser cruzados por turistas, inmigrantes, capital, productos, artesanías, artistas internacionales, coleccionistas, etc.

Los cruceros desembarcan en Puerto Vallarta y su primer destino es el Wal-Mart donde venden artesanías. Los inmigrantes de Jalisco pueden encontrar tejuino en Mac Arthur Park en la ciudad de Los Ángeles.

Ambos destinos se convierten en réplicas de los puntos de origen de sus visitantes. Así pues Puerto Vallarta se urbaniza aceleradamente con rascacielos mientras en el sur de California aparecen promiscuas formas de arquitectura vernacular informal. Las grandes ciudades tratan de capitalizar la cultura como atractivo turístico. Otros destinos turísticos generan híbridos productos culturales en busca de el poder de compra de sus visitantes. Un ejemplo es la efectiva Barbie en paracaidas que en mi experiencia personal vuela mejor que los mas pretenciosos papalotes de dos cuerdas adquiridos en Europa y Malibú.

El poder adquisitivo de la seguridad social en Estados Unidos disminuye y muchos viejos retirados se mudan a México a destinos como Puerto Vallarta. De acuerdo a recientes estadísticas gracias a los impuestos y a la fuerza de trabajo de inmigrantes en su mayoría mexicanos esta seguridad social no se colapsa y depende de estos.

Las ferias de arte en lugares como Miami o la misma ciudad de México se vuelven destinos interesantes para los coleccionistas que viajan a ellas sin necesidad de visitar las galerías en sus ciudades originales. Así pues a artistas como Damien Hirst quién es británico, le funciona producir en las playas de México y obtener un mejor porcentaje de ganancia en una galería local. Mientras tanto, es viable para algunos artistas mexicanos producir para mercados internacionales y desvincularse de su realidad local. En la ciudad de Los Ángeles estas realidades locales se vuelven internacionales.

Así pues llega a Puerto Vallarta el arte contemporaneo y viceversa…

Milton Ernest (Bobby) Rauschenberg 1925-2008

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Thu, 15 May 2008 15:56:00 +0000

Milton Ernest Raushenberg (mas conocido como Robert Rauschenberg) murió este lunes 12 de mayo de un paro cardiaco. Le tomé este retrato con Juan Carlos Lafontaine. En aquella época haciamos música industrial electrónica en un grupo que se llamaba Das Happy. Lo conocimos en una comida en la casa Gilardi diseñada por Luis Barragán. Mientras el maestro del collage hacia chistes sobre chiles bebimos la botella de Chateneuf du Pape que me había regalado la pulga cancelando la posibilidad de descorchar esta con mi amor platónico de la preparatoria. En aquel entonces comenzaba el Rauschenberg Overseas Culture Exchange con una exposición en México.

Recuerdo haber leído a Octavio Paz acusando en los sesentas a la obra de Rauschenberg de ser un "ejercicio de buen gusto". En aquella época este comentario debió de haber sonado absurdo y provocador en relación a ensamblados con cabras pintarrajeadas en el hocico con una llanta encima. Sin embargo si vemos la vóragine y el prolífico exceso de collages y gráfica de su última época en el que se repitió ad infinitum en una cacofónica y estetizada diarrea visual, el comentario de Paz es premonitorio. El sutil gesto de borrar un dibujo de De Kooning acaba resultando mucho mas importante.

Olivier Debroise 1952-2008

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Tue, 13 May 2008 01:20:00 +0000

Este martes 6 de mayo a las 10.30 pm murió Olivier Debroise. Lo esperabamos en la Universidad de California en San Diego.

No recuerdo exactamente cuando lo conocí pero escribía de arte y fotografía en La Jornada y frecuentaba el 9, el Consejo Mexicano de Fotografía y la casa de Adolfo Patiño y Carla Rippey. Junto con Rubén Bautista y Maria Guerra desarrolló la práctica de la curaduría en México. Al igual que ellos murió antes de tiempo. A diferencia de estos logró consumar sus proyectos mas ambiciosos. Mas que un crítico, un curador o investigador fué un instigador. No se conformaba con hacer un análisis distante y objetivo del arte y la cultura porque quizo participar en estos de manera mas directa. Empujaba y buscaba asociarse con los artistas que le interesaban y de quién escribía. Mezcló la investigación académica con la producción del arte en su película Un Banquete en Tetlapayac. En este experimento sui generis vemos como académicos que han dedicado su vida a deconstruir la fabrica de sueños de Hollywood y la sociedad del espectáculo se vuelven estrellas de cine que interpretan sus temas de estudio.

Tal vez su legado mas importante es la exposición La Era de la Discrepancia. Esta y su inmenso catálogo tratan de disipar la ignorante noción de que el arte mexicano reaparece en los noventas por generación espontanea gracias la negación de si mismo en Nueva York. De ahí el boicot y los chantajes de algunos artistas beneficiados por la amnesia.

Tuve la fortuna de pasar tiempo recientemente con el y de presenciar su última conferencia resultante de su residencia en el Getty Center. En este analiza una serie de proyectos de tres artistas argentinos en los años sesentas. Estas son las acciones e instalaciones de Marta Minujín, Oscar Masotta y Roberto Jacoby (miembro del grupo Tucumán Arde). El texto es poético, elocuente y esta ilustrado con fotografías y mapas animados en su versión para Power Point y teje cordenadas de interés para Olivier. Estos artistas produjeron obra que utilizó los medios de comunicación. Minujín cordinó la transmisión via satelite de acciones de ella en Buenos Aires, Wolf Wostell en Alemania y Allan Kaprow en Nueva York. Roberto Jacoby y el grupo Tucumán Arde cuestionaron la tergiversación de la realidad social a través de la manipulación de los medios de comunicación haciendo instalaciones y acciones con fines revolucionarios. Oscar Masota (quién posteriormente fuera sicoanalista lacaniano) realizó una acción en la que convocó a una serie de gentes a una locación particular donde poco antes había aparecido un helicóptero. Así pues la acción existiría mas como un mito o una narración. La relación entre el arte latinoamericano, la “escena internacional”, su realidad social y su subjetividad fue una preocupación constante en la investigación/obra de Olivier. En su último texto la expone de manera compleja, literaria, original y madura. Habrá que ver como y donde publicar lo que prometía ser el principio de una nueva aventura y cuerpo de trabajo. Habiamos acordado vernos en Buenos Aires a finales de junio con Magdalena Jitrik.

Lamento muchísimo su perdida y no poder haber asistido a su funeral debido a compromisos de trabajo. Les pido perdón a los artistas que si asistieron.

Mestizo, No te Entiendo, El Camino, Trabantimino & Others.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 22:28:00 +0000

"De español e india, produce mestizo" (Of a Spanish man and an Amerindian woman, a Mestizo is produced).
"De tente en el aire y mulato, sale no te entiendo" (From stand-on-the-air man and a Mulatto, an I-do-not-understand-you is obtained).
“De troka y Chevy sale El Camino” (From a pick-up truck and a Chevy is begotten an El Camino).
“De El Camino y Trabant produce Trabantimino” (Of an El Camino and a Trabant, a Trabantamino is produced).

Sexual contact among Europeans, Native Americans, and Africans occurred in the Americas as early as the sixteenth century and in most cases not out of love. From it, mixed people were born. Spaniards tried to develop a complex hierarchic taxonomic system called “castas” to organize their colonial social structure to favor themselves. Mestizos, Mulattos, and others mixed among themselves, combining and recombining and thus creating new multiracial categories that became hard to distinguish and understand. Such was the “No te entiendo” (which literally means “I do not understand you”) that was the result of a “Tente en el aire” (hold in the air) and Mulatto. The “Tente en el aire” was the combination of “Calpamulato” and “Cambujo.” “Calpamulato” came from “Zambaigo” and “Lobo.” “Zambaigo” was produced from Spanish and Chinese, etc. Paintings were commissioned to illustrate and explain the scheme.

In a no less absurd racial system in Anglo America, all these categories are now labeled as “Hispanic.” Spaniards started these classifications to distinguish themselves and now are lumped together and mistaken with “Brown” people of indigenous ancestry and “Black” people of African descent. There are other labels for people of Asian and African descent, but people of other European origin are labeled as “White” or “Caucasian” without any ethnic or geographic questioning of their American belonging. There is a category called “Other” for people of unidentifiable race (mixed). More often than not, mixed people have to define themselves in pure terms according to what they resemble most or who rejects them further. Anybody that has crossed an immigration checkpoint knows that for the U.S. Border Patrol, the more European you look, the more “American” you might be. Is “American” the result of the physical and cultural encounters in the New World or its puritan denial?

“How do you turn a Trabant into a sports car? Put sneakers in the trunk!”¹

Liz Cohen, like so many of us, is trying to figure and reconfigure how to construct herself and what she does. However, she does it with amazing versatility and ability. She documented the transgender community between the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans in Panama City. Her skill as a photographer, knowledge of Photoshop, and experience with a personal trainer were useful in transforming herself from a geeky intellectual into a sexy lowrider model. This same model happens to also be the mechanic who has been customizing a mutating Trabant that transforms into an El Camino through hydraulic pumps. She has been so adamant about learning and doing the mechanics herself that the project has had the time to mature slowly, like any good lowrider or bottle of wine.

Designed in the ’50s and produced until 1991, the Trabant is a boxy little East German car that despite its smoky two-stroke engine was fast, compact, light, durable, and even had room for four adults and luggage. Inspired by the Soviet Sputnik, the name Trabant means “fellow traveler” (satellite) in German. It was the Iron Curtain answer to the VW Beetle, the “people’s car,” and on Time magazine’s list of fifty worst cars of all time. Imported by Liz into the United States, this car, like any surviving savvy immigrant, has had to develop the most sophisticated strategies to adapt and blend in while being able to reconfigure itself and simultaneously stay true to its origins. And so it converts into that most “American” of cars, the Chevrolet El Camino. When I use the connotation of “America,” I speak of the one from most of the continent, the one of the mix and the hybrid as opposed to the pure and the simple relocation.

Like its predecessor and rival, the Ford Ranchero, the El Camino (meaning “the road” in Spanish) is an odd concoction between a pick-up truck and a big car (in car parlance a “coupe utility”). Paradoxically the car sold in Mexico as the Chevrolet Conquistador. In order for Liz’s car to transform into an El Camino, one of the pumps extends the wheel base to that of an El Camino and the back of the Trabant to the length of the bed of an El Camino. Needless to say, the car has also been souped up with thirteen-seven wheels and chromed knock- off rims. One pump lifts and locks the rear, and another one hops to the front. The cabin houses the switches that change the vehicle and also make it dance in celebration. The proper paint job and upholstery are in the works. As a work in progress, the car reveals the bondo and primer used in the reconstruction but more interestingly the Duroplast. This Eastern European material is made from different fibers, such as cotton and occasionally paper with some kind of plastic resin. It is similar to fiberglass but since it could be made in a press similar to shaping steel, it was more suitable for volume car production.

Certainly this car is not a trailer queen or a mere art world commodity; it will cruise the boulevard and is expected to participate in car shows. Even though the project was originally funded by a Creative Capital Foundation grant and has been considered art since it’s beginning, Liz wants it to compete and participate in the lowrider car scene. She is already combining these two worlds, curating a radical mod car show at the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art parallel to an exhibition of car-related art, in which the Trabantimino is included. Lowriders are on the fringe of custom cars, which happen to be on the fringe of car culture in general. Nevertheless, they have established their traditions and can be dogmatic in their particular set of values. They revere the Chevy, and it is uncertain to what extent they will accept the conversion of a Trabant into one.

Salvador “Chava” Muñoz created the first transformer pick-up truck, originally called “Wicked Bed.” A new competition category called “radical bed dancing” had to be established for the unique movements and particular cubist deconstruction of this vehicle. Chava’s customizing was so extreme that at one point it had no real competition. This ended up killing the category and the lowrider pick-up movement. The Nissan truck ended up exiled as an art piece called “Alien Toy.” Liz Cohen is resuscitating the movement and the use of hydraulics to transform a pick-up into an art piece and lowrider. She uses them in a different and particular way, creating a transformation that is not just formal or abstract but iconic and in the self. She is able to change an object smoothly back and fort between different political, social, cultural, and aesthetic systems. This car is not a celebration of triumphant, gas-guzzling, excessive, baroque capitalism or an apology of the Spartan and stoic sacrifices demanded by communism to liberate the oppressed masses. It is a negotiation and perhaps a dialectic synthesis of both, not to even mention the transgression of stereotypical gender and ethnic constructions and boundaries that have never fit her well as a Jewish, Colombian, San Franciscan art student, Phoenix suburban girl, beautiful lowrider model, rough mechanic, photo geek, and whatever else she decides to be.

As Tiger Woods wins more tournaments than anybody else and Barak Obama is a hopeful presidential candidate, it might be time to reconsider the U.S. obsession with Manichean, purist, racial definitions and to reconsider the idea of what “American” means.² In this sense, the Trabantimino is neither a car nor an art piece but a vehicle that helps us to rethink who we are, where we came from, and more importantly what we want to be.

1. East German joke.

2. White racists embraced the “one-drop rule” (any trace of sub-Saharan ancestry was enough to make you Black) to keep the white race “pure” as some African Americans now do it as a form of pride.

Phantom Sightings, talks.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Sun, 23 Mar 2008 04:15:00 +0000

Manhattan Dub.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Fri, 08 Feb 2008 00:44:00 +0000

Art has often been considered an “agent of transformation.” However, what happens when the art and the spaces where we present it are in a state of flux and transformation? During the twentieth century, mechanics allowed us to incorporate the notions of speed and motion into visual representation. New technologies give us the possibility to create forms in transformation avoiding the limitations of particularity and singularity. These mutant forms might respond to a public space that is mutating too. Forms can be combined and recombined seamlessly like if we were altering their genetic or molecular composition.

I have been working with hydraulic mechanics and other customizing techniques to alter the form and adapt objects to particular and specific cultural, political or aesthetical needs. However these analogical and modern processes seem to be limited to their original structures. During modern times simultaneity and a multiplicity of points of view were organized in fragmented ways such as cubism, collage and the modern city. I am currently exploring 3D design programs to create flexible sculptures or forms that transform themselves. With other programs I could also morph and hybridize these and other forms in seamless un-fragmented ways. By intervening different spaces with these alien and malleable forms I am hoping to reveal the glitches in the matrix.

Manhattan Dub documents the intervention of public space in New York City in a customized Penske truck with virtual graffiti.

An art piece by Rubén Ortiz Torres produced by Low Rez Crimez for the exhibition The Manhattan Project at Art in General, New York City, 2004.

Graffiti animation: Raymond Gutierrez

Video mix projections and truck customizing: Konstantinos Mavromichalis

Truck driver and curator: Sofía Hernandez

Stills: Vicente Razo

Original music: Dewey Ambrosino

Final editing: Ricky Delaveaga

Fabrication and First Test.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 00:18:00 +0000

We worked until the late hours of the night for a couple of months welding, cutting and installing in the metal shop of the Visual Arts department at UCSD while listening to a radio horror show in Spanish called “La Mano Peluda” (the Hairy Hand). We scavenged the junkyards of San Ysidro and Chula Vista. We bought a cheap used lift from Otay Mesa Sales that came all rusty with stains of cement and bad batteries. We got our hydraulics set up from Pro Hopper, the steel from Material Sales Inc and hardware from K Surplus.

Finally we were able to test the machine. Even though we still need to make some adjustments, it was very exciting to see how this portable monument unfolded, spun and danced. We will certainly need to change the used batteries that came with the lift since they are very weak and reinforce or change the frame of the basket because it bends with the force of the spin and the dance. We should also add some legs on the side of the body to make the lift more stable when it is unfolded so that it doesn’t collapse when we turn the steel arm to the side.

But once that is all done, we will soon be ready for the next stage of the production that involves metal flake painting, some chroming and as much pimping as we can afford.

Chava's Drawings.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Fri, 28 Dec 2007 00:46:00 +0000

Eventually I was invited to do a project with the Fabric Workshop in Philadelphia. I pitched them different ideas, among them customizing the scissor lift. They liked it and finally we are making it.

I am working with legendary radical bed dancer world champion Salvador “Chava” Muñoz from Colotlán, Jalisco. After seeing the photo montages and getting a used scissor lift we came up with a plan. The idea was to graft a Z-rack on top of the scissor lift. On the base of the basket we installed the hydraulic pumps and the batteries. On top of the Z-rack we are making a new basket that will unfold and spin. The Z-rack also turns and the base of the basket tilts up.

These are a couple of technical drawings that were made by Salvador to figure out the system and the flow of the oil in the hydraulic pumps.

High n' Low Rider.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Wed, 26 Dec 2007 07:08:00 +0000

After Monster Garage rejected the High n' Low Rider project I made a series of photomontages with new designs. A pick up truck would not fit in the majority of galleries or museums. The idea now was to make a scissor lift that would perform its regular functions and could dance and transform into an interesting sculpture. Some of the collages were more fantastic and extreme, making interesting graphic work. I showed them at OMR Gallery in Mexico City trying to convince them to use them to sell or pitch the production of the object.

An Art Project for Monster Garage.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Mon, 24 Dec 2007 22:44:00 +0000

Some time ago I met Ken Vose. He was writing a series of books for the television show Monster Garage. In them he included Alien Toy and The Garden of Earthly Delights. He asked me to propose a project to the show. On the show they customize cars to do particular unique challenges such as transforming a hot dog cart into a dragster or a Toyota into a mower. I suggested grafting a scissor lift into the bed of a pick up truck so it could be used in a museum to do the lighting or install artwork. The challenge for Jesse James (the famous biker and star of the program) would be to install art and do his antics in a museum. At the same time I was invited by Nato Thompson to participate in the exhibition The Interventionists at Mass Moca. The idea of the show was to “explore the works of artists who intervene in a greater public to bring attention to critical ideas.” This piece would have intervened the museum space with car culture as well as television and popular culture with art. At the same time this artwork would have revealed the work behind the installation of a show. At the end Jesse James did not want to do it. Apparently he wasn’t into the aesthetics and philosophy of “low n’ slow” suggested by hydraulics or being legitimized by a museum did not mean much to him.

These are some of the first sketches of the High n’ Low Rider.

On How Color Migrated Southward from Aztlan in Search of an Eagle Eating a Snake on a Perch of a Nopal.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 23:53:00 +0000

Text presented at: Smithsonian Latino Center, Camera Culture Out of Mexico, Photography Symposium, November 3, 2007, Mexican Cultural Institute, 2829, 16th Street, N.W., Washington, D.C.

I was invited to the “1er Coloquio Nacional de Fotografía" in the city of Pachuca in 1984. In that Orwellian year I produced a series of black & white photographs of my alienated Mexican punk friends struggling to coexist and to make sense in our post-colonial reality. I was probably the youngest person to be considered a photographer at the coloquio and knew almost no one there. I was sitting alone in the cafeteria when a nice old man with white long hair sat next to me and chatted without introducing himself. It turned out to be “Don Manuel Alvarez Bravo.” Among all the photo geeks there was one that stood out. There was a big Mexican looking guy with thick moustache wearing white shorts and pulled up white tube socks with white sneakers. I should mention than in Mexico the only adults in shorts were soccer players or “Chabelo” (a local entertainer that pretended to be a child). In one of the presentations he intervened demanding in Spanish with a strong Mexican-American accent that people would stop smoking in the closed and overcrowded auditorium. It was definitely an affront to the hedonistic freedom of self-destruction of the “Delicado¹.” puffing Mexican intelligentsia. Octavio Paz once claimed that reality was more real in black & white but his daltonism was proven wrong by the c-prints of Louis Carlos Bernal, c as in Chicano as well as chromogenic. For him color was not just a condition of reality but also a layer of significance. Like fellow chromatists Tamayo, Barragán and Chucho Reyes he used color as a cultural marker. He showed us a series of images that proudly documented life in the barrios of the South West. They were portraits, still lifes and house interiors with a particular palette all the more distinct because of its absence in fine art Mexican photography. The reason for this conspicuous nonappearance was not just an aesthetic one. It had to do with the lack of availability of technology and materials such as color processors in times before NAFTA. When I had my first serious opportunity to do color photography for instance, I had to have the Kodachrome stock that was given to me processed in Texas and then printed in Cibachrome in England. I ruined a lot of reversal film overexposing it as I used to do my negatives.

Bernal made good friends with photographers in Mexico City, people like Armando Cristeto and Adolfo Patiño (also known as Adolfotógrafo). He got to meet Graciela Iturbide and Don Manuel Alvarez Bravo. He made a good portrait of Don Manuel and Graciela quoted one of Bernal’s works in on of her photographs. Perhaps it was Adolfo who developed a deeper artistic bond with him. Adolfo solved the technological and economic hurdle of the lack of infrastructure to make color photography by experimenting widely with the more accessible Polaroid and with photo booths. Although he was not a chromatist we can trace certain iconic references to Louis in Adolfo’s photographs as well as in his objects. In fact the Mexican photographer outchicano Bernal by customizing the star spangled banner with the Virgin of Guadalupe in a large tapestry.

I saw Louis Carlos again in Tucson, Arizona after driving there from Mexico City in what seemed to take forever and where each mile was warmer than the previous one. Through Louis Carlos and his girlfriend Marietta Benrstorff I met what seem to be a mirage in the desert. She was the beautiful Elisa Jimenez who is the daughter of the sculptor Luis Jimenez. He was a good friend of them and shared the affinity for the colorful glossy surfaces with Louis as we can see in his big fiberglass figurative polychromatic representations of the South West. They resemble the colorful plaster figurines sold at the border and Jeff Koons’s porcelain sculptures. They might be kitsch and camp but instead of ironic they are disarmingly proud, heroic and earnest.

Unfortunately this text does not have a happy ending. In fact it has three tragic ones. On October 24 of 1989 a car struck Lou while he was riding his bicycle to Pima College. After being in a coma for four years Bernal died on his 52nd birthday on August 18, 1993. Adolfo Patiño died falling from the ceiling of the building he was living in Mexico City on August 31st on 2005 at the age of 50. Apparently he forgot the keys of his apartment and was trying to break into it. Luis Jimenez was killed on June 13, 2006 when one of his large sculptures fell on him cutting his femoral artery bleeding him to death at the age of 66.

Recently in a panel discussion in Santa Fe I was asked about Jimenez influence in my work. I do not know if I can compare myself to these guys. What they did that really mattered is perhaps more important than art. Bernal and Jimenez as part of the Chicano movement helped to integrate and change society. The three helped to bridge the gaps between people and countries. Yesterday was the day of the death and today a good day to remember them.

1. A strong local brand of cigarettes.

MTV and the Border Patrol.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Mon, 05 Nov 2007 04:51:00 +0000

When we finished Alien Toy I received a call asking me about including the truck in a music video. The video was going to be directed by Doug Aitken. At the time I did not know who he was. He contacted me through Cameron Jamie. The music video was for Fatboy Slim and the song was The Rockafeller Skank. I did not know neither who Fatboy Slim was so I called my friend B+ who works with rappers and musicians to find out. B+ told me to hold on and wait for a better opportunity to show the truck in a video of an artist better known. I told the producer that Salvador “Chava” Muñoz wouldn’t dance the truck for less than $500, which was the amount he was getting at car shows. The producer accepted and Chava needed the money.

Eventually the song became a huge hit. Somehow the aesthetic of the video is very similar to Miguel Calderón’s work. The truck is painted like a border patrol but it does not say that. This has some particular meaning and humor to the people that recognize that.

Hexstatic - Auto (Feat. Alien Toy).

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 04:46:00 +0000

I am a big fan of Hexstatic, Coldcut and Ninja Tune in general. Stuart Warren Hill contacted me through my friend and collaborator Konstantinos Mavromichalis from Low Rez Crimez.

Hexstatic made this track and video using hydraulic sounds and footage I had of Alien Toy. Hopefully I will get to meet them some day.

Alien Toy.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Sat, 27 Oct 2007 18:50:00 +0000

This is the original video of Alien Toy that was presented first at Insite 97 in San Diego ten years ago. Tom Pattchet now owns the whole piece. The Tate Modern recently acquired the video. The truck has been shown at Site Santa Fe, Track 16 gallery and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. It danced at the Museum of Contemporary Art in San Diego, Bergamont Station, the Hospicio Cabañas in Guadalajara and four times in the Lowrider Super show winning the Radical Bed Dancing Award in all of them. The video was presented at PS1 Contemporary Art Center in New York, the Kunst Werke Institute for Contemporary Art in Berlin, the Museo Nacional de Arte Reina Sofia in Madrid and the Museo Universitario de Ciencias y Artes in Mexico City among other places. The truck also appears in video clips of Fatboy Slim and Hextatic and it was featured in the Jay Leno show.

For more explanation check Alien Speech.

The Garden of Earthly Delights.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Thu, 18 Oct 2007 00:48:00 +0000

Political boundaries start with private property of land protected and defined by force. Real state borders are usually defined by gardens. Modern gardeners have become the urban and industrialized version of peasants and artists. They work for the owners of the land. Southern California is distinct by its beautiful gardens. Workers who have to cross these political and real state boundaries usually tend to these gardens. They own their means of production and have become small entrepreneurs. These are sleek power tools. They are functional and symbolic objects. They pollute and make noise but we depend on them precisely to create the necessary green areas and artificial nature of the city at a low cost.

The Garden of Earthly Delights is a mechanic ballet where the pastoral and the industrial clash and depend on each other. The aesthetic machine is a contradictory means of expression and an end in itself. It is customized technology at the service of art, culture and politics.

Originally presented at “Mixed Feelings,” USC Fischer Gallery, Los Angeles, 2002. Now in the collection of the National Museum of Mexican Art in Chicago. Original music made with gardening tools: Gabriela Ortiz. Hydraulic engineer and mechanics: Salvador “Chava” Muñoz. With the original participation of Jaime Alemán (vice president of ALAGLA). Thanks to Adrian Alvarez and ALAGLA (Association of Latin American Gardeners of Los Angeles).

Viva Mexico! at Zacheta National Gallery of Art in Warsaw.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Sun, 23 Sep 2007 16:01:00 +0000

Viva Mexico! es una exposición de arte contemporaneo mexicano organizada por Magda Kardasz para la Galería Nacional de Arte Zacheta de Varsovia en Polonia. A diferencia de otras exposiciones similares sobre el mismo tema esta no solo incluye artistas de la ciudad de México. De hecho problematiza la idea de nación o de una exposición nacional al presentar artistas de mas allá de las fronteras geográficas actuales. Así pues la exposición se anuncia como una exposición de México D.F., Tijuana/San Diego, Guadalajara, Monterrey y Los Ángeles.

Mientras Silverio se desgañitaba y la polka posmoderna de Nortec sonaba en Polonia tuve la oportunidad de beber vodka con salsa Tabasco y jugo de arándano. A este experimento globalizado le llaman "mad dog" y estaba bueno. Ojalá hubiera podido brindar con Ludwik Margules y Marcos Kurtycz para olvidar las penas de la trágica historia que en estos lares ha sido aún peor. A estos padres del teatro y el performance en México les dedico al menos mi parte de la exposición.

September 11.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Thu, 13 Sep 2007 05:37:00 +0000

In commemoration of September 11 I would like to post a letter I sent to the Los Angeles Times after Augusto Pinochet died. It was on this tragic date in 1973 when a military coup backed by the CIA toppled democracy in Chile. Elected president Salvador Allende was assassinated and general Pinochet became a dictator.

My note was a response to a text by Jonah Goldberg and it was not published. Like a stubborn communist that justifies Stalinism as the only way to stop capitalism and Nazism, he justified Pinochet in relation to Fidel Castro and in order to stop communism.

December 19th, 2006.

My father's friend Victor Jara had his hands chopped and was forced to play his guitar until he bled to death in a packed Santiago stadium. My first drawing teacher Eugenia had to spit her teeth in a class in front of me and other kids in Mexico City. She got them weak after electrical shocks in her gums and her genitals in Chile. She was arrested for being a teacher in the University. Pregnant women were tortured, forced to abort and often killed. Soldiers would adopt the sons of the parents they murdered. Like in Germany books were burned. In fact Nazi Germans assisted the Chilean, Bolivian and Paraguayan armies.

The Cuban revolution certainly has not led to a "socialist paradise" and has not been the solution as you point out. However the problems are the extreme inequalities, corruption and other humiliations from colonialism and U.S. intervention. The Batista dictatorship was not "destined for First World Status" as you preposterously claim (where the hell did you get that?). People in Latin America have tried social change through democratic means. Unfortunately the U.S. has constantly undermined these efforts and supported military coups, dictators and electoral fraud in Guatemala, Mexico, Chile, Bolivia, Uruguay, Argentina, Brasil, Paraguay, Nicaragua, etc. It was the impossibility of democracy what led to armed struggle. Allende strongly differ with Castro in his belief in democracy and died as a consequence. You do not seem to see the difference.

I have also Cuban friends that came to Mexico on their way to the U.S.A. Most of them artists that want to earn hard currency and are critical of the Castro regime. However they were not tortured, had the best art education in Latin America and the possibility to migrate to the U.S. You mention that a lot of people die crossing the ocean in their way to Miami escaping the failures of communism. More people died every year in the deserts of the U.S. Mexico border escaping the failures of capitalism and free trade. The Cubans are given residence and are martyrs of freedom. Poor Mexicans are prosecuted and considered criminals in their former land. Is this a Castro achievement?

One thing is to criticize Castro, another thing is to justify fascism. You should be more careful if you do not want to end as a bar of soap.

Maria Elena Torres de Ortiz 1941-1987

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Mon, 03 Sep 2007 23:02:00 +0000

My mother died twenty years ago of polycystic kidney disease in Mexico City. I made a drawing from a photograph of her smiling and wearing a huipil. She used to wear these indigenous dresses as a singer of a Latin American folk band called Los Folkloristas. The other panels of the artwork include zempazuchil flowers and arrangements of skulls as in pre Columbian shrines.

My friend Adolfo Patiño insisted on showing this Day of the Dead memento in his gallery La Agencia. Since I wanted to keep it, we overvalued the artwork at eight hundred dollars (a lot for the gallery and myself in those days). I believe a Texan collector bought it. I would greatly appreciate any help in finding this piece.

Hace veinte años murió mi madre de insuficiencia renal. Hice unos retratos de ella sobre papel con hoja de oro, pastel, gouache, acrílico, y pigmento dorado. La pieza incluía dibujos de ella enferma en su cama y otro a partir de una fotografía en la que sonreía vistiendo un huipil como cuando cantaba con Los Folkloristas.

Adolfo Patiño insistió en exponerlos en la galería La Agencia. Como la obra era muy personal y yo no quería venderla la sobrevaluamos en ochocientos dólares (una cantidad exagerada para la época y para mis dibujos). La pieza fue comprada por una coleccionista tejana según recuerdo. Si alguién sabe el paradero de la misma les agradecería mucho hacérmelo saber.

Una flor se seca y en primavera vuelve a nacer.
Nace y se corta y vuelve a morir.

Spanish Caprice.

noreply@blogger.com (Rubén Ortiz Torres) — Mon, 03 Sep 2007 03:38:00 +0000

UCLA is releasing in DVD the experimental documentary feature film Frontierland/Fronterilandia I did in collaboration with Jesse Lerner. Jesse is a filmmaker and has a blog called the American Egypt with his essays about film, photography and art. The next essay is an adaptation of the narration from the second chapter of Frontierland/Fronterilandia that was featured in Art Issues magazine. The film was funded by I.T.V.S. and originally aired on KCET in June 1995.

ORTIZ TORRES, Rubén, Jesse Lerner: "Spanish Caprice": Art Issues, no 41, January/February, Los Angeles, 1996, pp. 23-25.

Soon may the Papagos gather
Beneath the sacred shade
Where their fathers knelt 'round the Black-Robe
Listened, believed and prayed.

Soon may the Black-Robe's labor
The treasures of faith unfold.
And this mission bloom in the valley
As once it bloomed of old.

May its arches again re-echo
The sound of the vesper hymn,
And fervent souls to worship
Kneel in the shadow dim.
Brushed from each shrine and altar
The gathering dust and mold,
May the daily oblation be offered
Which the prophet hath foretold,
May its broken cross be uplifted,
And its bell more sweetly chime,
And its glory remain untarnished
Until the eve of time.

-Ildefonsus describing the mission San Xavier del Bac, ca, 1919

For the North Americans who came to California during the second half of the nineteenth century, the Franciscan Missions were nagging reminders that the West had not always been theirs. Ever since the liberal Mexican governments instituted policies of secularization, these distant outposts of a defeated empire had fallen toward ruin. But out from under these ruins grew an industry propagating the romance of old Spain --a fanciful vision of these buildings as picturesque relics from a noble past.

Where there is a noble past, or even the illusion of one, entrepreneurs, promoters and clientele are on their way. Thus while the origins of the late nineteenth-century “mission fever” were literary, the missions later inspired fiestas, parades, real state developments and tourism. The missions also attracted the attention of architects and their employers. Rather than transplanting alien and often inappropriate architectural forms from elsewhere, they hoped to develop a distinctly Californian style of building, appropriate to the climate and evocative of their particular understanding of the region's history.

While the original missions were designed as religious communities, the mission revival buildings had other uses. Given this alteration of function, architects relied on the quotation of a series of evocative elements.

Details which characterize the architecture of the missions, and which were paraphrased by builders in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, include: massive walls of adobe, (for which concrete and drywall were later substituted), the red tile roof, arcaded corridors, terraced bell towers, and the patio with fountain and garden.

Within a few years, the mission style had become the semi-official architecture of California. Architects built train stations, post offices, schools, airplane hangers, department stores, apartment buildings, bungalows, gas stations, presidential libraries, automobile clubs and fast food restaurants in this style. Endless permutations blended Mission style with-craftsman, Queen Anne, Federal and other diverse architectural styles. Mission elements were often mixed with or referred to as Spanish, Moorish, Romanesque, Oriental, Islamic, Latin and Mediterranean styles.

California's mission revival proved to be only the first of a series of architectural styles which migrated across the border from south to north.The architect Bertram Goodhue instigated a vogue for the more ornamental Mexican churrigueresco style with his designs for the 1915 International Exposition in San Diego. Architects such as Frank Lloyd Wright blended Aztec and Mayan elements with modernist forms, while others took these same pre-Columbian references in more flamboyant directions. While many of these fads proved to be short-lived, the Mission Revival has remained the most lasting and characteristic architectural style of the California landscape. Spreading from California, the taste for Mission Revival reached from New England to Tijuana to Vancouver's Chinatown and to Mexico City, where there emerge a Mexican reinterpretation of a North American copy of a colonial Mexican architectural style.

In Mexico, The Mission Revival or Colonial Californiano, as it became known there, referred less to the original missions than to the Hollywood dream. The buildings became more ornate, incorporating stained glass windows, elaborately carved stonework, and baroque elements. While modern Mexican architects disparaged the style as kitschy, phony affectation of the nouveau riche, a revolutionary revisionism later came to advocate a style that was called Neocolonial Nationalism. The resulting buildings looked much like those of the Colonial Californiano. The early work of Carlos Obregón Santacilia, the leading architect of the Revolution, includes Neocolonial Nationalist housing for the workers, though in his writings he dismissed the style as “pocho” (a slang word for someone that who speaks neither Spanish nor English properly). Ultimately, then, in reappropriating colonial architecture both Neocolonial Nationalism and Colonial Californiano emerged as something new. By the time a Mexican architect built a church in the Mission Revival style, it no longer looked like a mission. Mission Revival buildings, while they were always copies of something else, have subsequently been recognized as landmarks of architectural significance, both in Mexico and the United States. Today, ironically, some of these buildings have been declared historical monuments, a status which they had aimed for at the beginning.

Throughout the twentieth century, the Mission Revival style influenced many important modernist architects working in California, specially Secessionists like Irving Gill and Frances Underhill. But the Mission Revival and Modernism always made strange bedfellows. Anticipating later debates within postmodernism, the Mission Revival foreshadowed an interest in regional history as opposed to the development of a universal language --or international style--in architecture. Like the old Spanish Fiesta still celebrated today in Santa Barbara, the Mission Revival instigated a dialogue with the past that resonates in the present.