murals.

In both Lima and Cusco we were able to paint murals under the tutelage of Jorge Miyagui. Our initial plan was to paint over a mural in Villa El Salvador, but thanks to rain we ended up painting over a mural in El Averno (Spanish for hell), a space in Lima where the Mural Brigade often paints. Part of the Mural Brigade’s modus operandi is continual renewal – nothing is precious – hence the lack of concern for painting over other murals. Likely this perspective comes from experience in the public arena; murals with a political stance are often seen as contentious, and are thus painted over by local authorities. The bull, condor and lightning bolt were remnants of the old mural that we incorporated into our own. The prominent element of the mural is the female ekeko – an anthropologically impossible figure according to Jorge, but our aim was to challenge gender roles and expectations. That said, giving the “ekeka” a voluptuous figure seems to confirm these roles and expectations to a certain extent, rather than challenge them – however it has made the artists we’ve worked with (who are all men) think about such things. To the left of the “ekeka” is a rainbow (sprouting from coca leaves) that has a dual meaning. We all know the rainbow flag to signify gay, lesbian, and bisexual rights, which was our intent, but also the rainbow flag has flown in the Andes since the Inca Empire. It represents the four corners of the Inca Empire; presumably two colors represent each region – the north, south, Pacific Ocean, and jungle. We left a few signature marks, including the singing whale (Pacific Northwest) and our handprints in the clouds.

old mural we painted over

group in front of our finished mural

mural in El Averno

We painted two mobile murals in Cusco for Peru del Discurso a la Realidad, a group who seeks to critique current events and politics in Peru. The group displays images, quotes, critiques, and information in the main plaza of Cusco fairly regularly and the murals will be displayed along with everything else next time it goes up. That this is displayed in the main plaza of the country’s most touristy town is pretty impressive, and I hope tourists take the time to view the display and think critically about the information presented. Peruvian President, Alan Garcia and his relationship to the US of A (namely the Free Trade Agreement and neoliberal economic policies of and between both countries) are topics featured prominently in the display.

Given the discourse of Peru del Discurso a la Realidad, the two murals we painted in Cusco critique Peruvian policies and realities more so than our mural in Lima did. One critiques the extractive industries in the Amazon and the recent events in Bagua – trees and animals protest alongside an Amazonian tribesperson against the logging industry. The other mocks tourism by placing tourists in a reserve while llamas take pictures of the tourists and feed them “tourist” food (McDonald’s – which just opened in the main plaza a year ago, Starbucks – coming soon, pizza – way too ubiquitous in Cusco, Snickers, and other candy). I’m still suspicious that the woman resembles me a little too closely... long red wavy/curly hair, fair skin (hence the sunscreen on her nose), blue eyes would have been the kicker, but alas they’re green. PHEW. haha

I love the latter of the two murals, and will soon post about tourism. But, dinner beckons. And no, it will not be pizza.

solidarity.

While I am currently in Cusco, there are a few things that I still want to address from my time in Lima. Though not unique to the nation’s capital, the topic of solidarity was a core theme in our ventures in Lima, namely in our visit to Villa El Salvador and the artist community, Lurín.

The story of Villa El Salvador is pretty amazing – it began as a shantytown in the middle of the desert, just 20 kilometers south of Lima, but by 1971 a city was in the making. (insert name), a leftist dictator leading Peru at this time, allowed for the city planning of Villa El Salvador. This is pretty incredible given that the government never attends to its poor, before or since. Through united group efforts, city planning commenced and people began to build - there is a tremendous amount of pride in the residents of Villa El Salvador.

Nevertheless, the standard of living in Villa El Salvador is far lower than anything I've seen in the States (which granted, I haven't been everywhere in the US of A) - most people spend their lives waiting and hoping to build their homes out of brick (as opposed to plastic, sheet metal, or woven fibers attached to a more flimsy structure), and if that's achieved, the next dream is to build a second story. To illustrate, there are a lot of buildings with rebar jutting out of the top in anticipation to build up. The city is also expansive. Because of the inability to build up, it sprawls out, causing its residents to rely on modes of transportation other than by foot. Trash can be found nearly everywhere, illustrating the country's lack of appropriate waste management, or at least outside of tourist destinations (which tend to be emmaculate).

I didn't take many photographs of Villa El Salvador, in fact, I really only took photos in the cemetery. There was something off-putting about getting off a chartered bus and taking pictures of people's homes. I feel it necessary to illustrate this city's story and all it entails, yet not at the expense of treating people and their belongings as if they are safari animals. Guess that's a mentality that will never allow me to be a great photographer...

view of Villa El Salvador from the cemetery

Anywho. On to Lurín. Lurín is an artist barrio made up of artisans from Ayacucho who mostly fled their Andean homeland to escape the violence during the 80s and 90s (Ayacucho was hit the hardest by the Shining Path and the military). We visited with a few ceramic and textile artists and they all were very excited to welcome us into their homes and workshops, likewise it was wonderful to visit them.

The amount of work that goes into the artists' respective pieces compared to the prices they sold them for amazed me. Being a craftsperson myself, I never know what to charge for my work, but I know I would charge more than they were for their work. Life is constantly a learning experience, and this was just another encounter that made me further appreciate the work of others.

One of the artisans said (or something to this effect), "though we are artisans, we are very much connected to the modern world." This struck me and I feel there is more behind this comment, including the common assumption that artists and artisans differ in sophistication, importance, and value. This of course is false, though the art world as we know it continues to perpetuate these assumptions.

Apparently art isn't for everyone though, and some of the students chose to play soccer with local kids. They lost sorely to the niños. And that's all for now.


artisan making all the tiny details the molds could not make

Andean angels

amazing artists (amended).

During our stay in Lima we have met with a fair amount of artists (though no female artists - arg!), whose work I think poignant, beautiful, and necessary. It's difficult to know to what extent artists in Peru create art as a form political awareness and critique, but according to our guest artists, it seems to be a fairly consistent within the art world in Peru. I shall attempt to comment, critique, and praise the following artists...

Jorge Miyagui, left: "Llapa", right: "Alerta"

One of our professors met Jorge Miyagui at an art show some years past and has to a large extent been our main contact in Lima. He was so kind to not only connect our group to these artists, but to join us on each venture to meet the artists. Jorge says he doesn't think about his work while he's making it, but makes connections after the matter. I'm not sure to what extent I believe that - perhaps he may not be conscious of the way in which he uses images and such, but I think it's a process of his synthesis of visual and material culture of Peru, Japan (his ancestory and a considerable component in Peruvian history), and the US (thanks to globalization and other factors). For instance, PokeMan makes an appearance in a lot of his earlier work. My favorite piece of his I saw was "Llapa" (above, left), which speaks strongly to the social conditions of Peruvians. The image of the condor tied to the bull on the far left depicts an indigenous tradition (I'm still a little confused about it); the far left represents the story of the saint, Santiago Killer of Indians (same saint: Santiago Killer of Moors) in the modern context of Peru's dirty wars, trampling on a war victim, presumably indigenous; lastly the middle figure represents the aspect of transition Peru is attempting to make. One must question to what are they transitioning and to whose betterment? Is not Peru still a classist, even racist society, which neocapitalism (as we know it) continues to perpetuate?

Mauricio Delgado, left: "El Ekeko Atlas", right: "Mamá Macha"

Mauricio Delgado was the first artist with whom we met, immediately after visiting the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) exhibition at the Museo de la Nación. The first group of work he presented took the images from the TRC's exhibition (which were a compilation of images from newspapers and magazines of Peru) and painted them on floral upholstry (seen in "Mamá Macha" that shows mothers holding photos of their missing children from the dirty wars). I thought this was a beautiful - figurative and literal - way to allude to social strata in Peru. Images of mothers from Ayacucho juxtaposed on fabric used by Limean middle class creates a sweet but tragic composition and recollection of Peru's recent and present history.

I also adored Mauricio's "El Ekeko" series, including "El Ekeko Atlas." Ekeko's are Andean figurines that symbolize luck and fortune - but only if given to someone (meaning you will not receive luck and fortune if you keep it for yourself - throw back to gift societies perhaps?). His description of "El Ekeko Atlas" was a bit comedic, though mostly tragic; translation: "he's the Atlas Ekeko because the weight of dreams in Peru are so heavy," a comment that puts privilege into perspective.

Both Mauricio and Jorge belong to La Brigada Muralista, a group of artists who paint murals throughout Lima.

Javi Vargas Sotomayor, clockwise from top left: "Farrah-Amaru", "Dina-Amaru", "Frida Amaru", and "Marilyn-Amaru" from La Falsificación de las Túpac

The art of Javi Vargas Sotomayor is especially subversive when considering the political and religious enivorns of Peru. Javi critiques gender constructs in La Falsificación de las Túpac by superimposing campy makeup and female faces on mostly male figures important to Peru's history. History lesson: Túpac Amaru was the last Inca ruler and was beheaded by the Spanish in 1572 for helping to murder priests in Vilcabamba - a crime he likely did not commit. He remains an important cultural figure to indigenous people in Peru.* Back on the topic of gender, pre-Hispanic culture in Peru did not construct gender identification so rigidly as we presently understand it - gender was more fluid. I thought his show was amazing and I applaud him for making such a statement in a socially and politically conservative country such as Peru, though I wonder to what extent he perpetuates the modern/post-Hispanic constructs of gender with the hypersexual representation of men and women in the show. Something for him to think about...

Alfredo Marquez, left: "Mao", right: "Babel of Paradise"

The previous three artists are from the same generation, perhaps just a few years older than I am (which naturally makes me feel underaccomplished, as per usual). Alfredo Marquez, on the other hand, is perhaps a decade or so their senior, and has experienced the atrocities of Peru's dirty wars first hand. In 1994 the Peruvian military (under the government of Fujimori) stormed his house and found an image of Mao, comparable to the image above, leading Alfredo to be charged and sentenced for 20 years in prison for allegedly supporting the group Shining Path (a Maoist group in Peru, see prior post). He was released in 1998 when his case was finally made - that the image of Mao was subversive not only in that he dared to make an image of Mao, but that he dared to paint Mao's lips red, "as if he were a prostitute" - Alfredo likely would have been threatened or killed by the Shining Path, had the group remained strong, for such an act of defacement. Though he served 4 years in a maximum security prison, and given only 30 minutes a day to spend outside of his cramped cell, his spirit was and remains remarkably unbroken. I consider myself very fortunate to have met him.

"Babel of Paradise" explores aspects of capitalism and communism and their effects on Peruvian and global society. A neat and tidy description of the layers: Tatlin's Tower (commemorated the Third Communist International in Russia) rises out of the traditional mythical image of the Tower of Babel, which rises out of the ruins of New York's Twin Towers, surrounded by the ruins of Lima's own buildings bombed by the Shining Path (just a few blocks from my hotel in the neighborhood of Miraflores in fact). The woman in the image should be familiar to anyone who reads the news - she (Specialist Lynndie England) is convicted of abuse of prisoners in Abu Ghraib. Alfredo had an interesting take on her, commenting that she, just like many Americans, joined the military in order to go to college and make a better life for herself. As represented in the painting, she, as with us all, depend on unstable, decrepit hegemonic foundations that help shape our perceptions and actions, including our most malevolent ones. I don't think he was trying to forgive her, more that he was making a statement about there being larger forces than those of a few individuals.

My my, this is rather long. I'll end it now in hopes to continue later. Adios for now...

*additional information that actually reflects the show: Túpac Amaru II created a rebellion against the Spanish in 1780. He suffered an even worse death than his namesake - he had to witness the death of his loved ones, suffered a failed attempt at quartering, had his tongue cut out, and was then beheaded.

vandalism.

When people ask what I'm doing in Peru, I tell them I'm studying the politics of Peru via the art produced in the country, I normally get a slightly confused look from my audience. I could make massive generalizations, but in sum I think those in the US of A normally don't associate politics and art beyond propaganda posters. Of course, a lot of art is political under a broader understanding of what "political" means - art that broaches social, gender, economic, labor, etc. issues. Art that goes beyond being art for the sake of art.

The art we are seeing in Peru presents these various aforementioned issues, but universally the artists we have met address the violence produced by groups such as the Shining Path and MRTA, as well as by the Peruvian government and military (especially under the presidency/dictatorship of Fujimori who is currently imprisoned for war crimes), in one way or another. While the nation acknowledges the atrocities committed by the prior, not everyone admits the government also committed atrocious acts, and if they do, they are considered the unfortunate byproducts necessary to eradicate such groups as the Shining Path. These "excesses" by the military being that of torture, rape, and murder of many innocent people.

One of the forms of addressing war crimes and the suffering of innocent Peruvians (a large majority - roughly 70% - of those directly affected lived in the Andes) is through public memorials and monuments, such as El Ojo que Llora (The Eye that Cries). El Ojo que Llora is a beautiful, meditative monument that includes tens of thousands of small stones on which are written the names, ages, and year of death of people killed during Peru's "dirty war" (they are in the process of carving them, as the ink is fading). These stones form a path around a sculpture that cries, or mourns, for the dead. Tangent interjection: this symbolic gesture is fairly obvious, but I see a second reading of a breast attempting to nurse a broken nation...

Naturally, dissent occurs under the form of vandalism and the monument was defaced by supporters of Fujimori (the color orange is used by Fujimori's party). Though it saddens my heart to see it - that people choose to remain so ignorant of political abuses, in some ways I think it's appropriate to be reminded of the pervasive ignorance and denial that remains within Peru (though applicable to any nation really).

El Ojo que Llora

the eye (breast) - water was not running that day, but you can see the mineral deposits left by the water, as well as the remaining orange paint from the vandalism

stones with carved names

orange paint from vandalism and the remnents of stones with ink inscriptions

a mural about human rights, also vandalized

the true confessions of a bibliophile.

As the good daughter of a librarian, I love books. I've always known this, but now that all my worldly possessions must fit in my 12'x12' room, my book collection seems even more impressive. In fact, they - along with my embarrassing clothes collection - are taking over my room like Napoleon in early 19th century Europe. At least they're still organized. Sorta.

poetry, literature, and note the bear knick-knack.

literature as a doorstop.

art and politics.

religion, architecture, and language.

thesis material.

protest.

These aren't pretty images by any means, but I feel they're appropriate to post. One of the many things I love about Italy is its enthusiasm to protest, something we need more of in the States. Tonight's was about women's rights. And they were selling 1 euro beer and blasting Janis Joplin and Aretha Franklin out of a van. Respect yo.

il mondo cambia.

translated: the world is changing

Damn straight.

vote.

VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE

capisci?

not iran.

I had the pleasure of spending the day with a Turkisth friend and her family. Via Özge's translations, we discussed many things, including that devilish thing called politics. Since 1923, Turkey has been a fervently secular country (with some occasional political upheavals), yet lately there is a very apparent rise of nationalism and Islamic fundamentalism. Like the US, a few years ago, the Turkish flag would be difficult to find flying outside of government buildings and the like. Now is a different story and secularists are afraid of becoming like Iran... Turkey has a very interesting history, including modern times - worth reading up and seeing the parallels (and differences) with other countries, including our own.