Tonight Chelsea and I met up with a guy named Alejandro. He's one of three guys who operate a kind of graffiti/street art photo collective at www.escritosenlacalle.com We contacted them about participating in the Art Is...project about a week ago and they hit us back saying they were interested.
Consequently, Chelsea and I found ourselves at the corner of Cabildo and Lacroze waiting for someone we'd never met. Perfectly safe.
We finally located Alejandro(who on a sidenote smelled like sandalwood)and walked a few blocks to a quieter street and along the way we talked about the Art Is...project and his own website. Since the majority of our Art Is...phrases have been basically hit and run, meaning we ask the person on the spot, we haven't spent a lot of time talking about the project at length. Therefore, when Alejandro asked questions about the project I found myself not having a lot of well-formed thoughts (in Spanish at least)and was stumped when he asked what we wanted to do with the Art Is...project and where we saw it going. With a month left in Buenos Aires, I've started to ask myself the same question but haven't come up with anything yet.
In one way, the project has already been taken further via the larger organization that is FOKUS(www.fokus.org). The Art Is project is rather how the ideas of FOKUS have been taken further. Since the question of what "Art Is" is so central to what FOKUS represents, I can't mentally separate the two. Entonces, the question of what else to do with the Art Is project doesn't have an immediate answer for me.
Gonna let this one marinate...
-j
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Monday, May 21, 2012
deliciously awkward human theatre
This Sunday my host mother had her "graduation" for her life coaching class. I was invited and since she's been so nice to me, I thought I'd do her a solid and go to show some support. The morning began with me wondering what the hell I had voluntarily agreed to-why would I willingly spend five hours in a room full of rich Argentines celebrating themselves? I almost backed out when I realized my host dad and I were going together and saying I was sick wouldn't work.
So the two of us left the apartment building and grabbed a taxi. Mind you, this is the closest proximity my host dad and I have ever been in, save for the occasional dinner. He and the taxista had a conversation about the corrupt government while the taxista's cigarette smoke wafted back. We arrived at the hotel where the event was being held and powerwalked through the lobby. No one had arrived yet so we helped ourselves to the breakfast that we thought was for the invitees. Halfway through this mostly silent meal, a waiter came over and told us that the food was only for hotel guests. Whoops. In the smoothest of moves, my host dad paid the waiter and kept eating his ham and cheese croissant. A few other of my host parent's friends came and sat with us and I found myself deeply engrossed in a conversation about how fantastic the city of Las Vegas is and how awesome the United States government was.
We finally went in to the room where the event was set up. It looked exactly like a business conference crammed into a small space. Pepin (my host dad) and I squeezed into one of the narrow rows and sat down. A few minutes later an annoyingly bouncy man came out in front and began explaining the event. His voice sounded like that of a mid-grade car salesman and gave me the impression I was about to be swindled into buying something I didn't know I wanted. There were five other "graduates" and the first woman began her presentation. With a dance. The entire audience was urged to stand up and follow along as the Sims-looking dancers on the screen did a series of increasingly humiliating dance moves. I glanced sideways at Pepin and knew that neither of us had any intention of losing that much dignity so early in the morning. After an eternity, everyone sat down and the woman continued her presentation.
Why was this such great human theatre? Well my friends, after the woman had finished, the same bouncy man came out and began publicly critiquing what she had done. Essentially, he constructively hoed her life. Then one of the other "judges"(there were three of them, I assume the teachers of the life coaching class)came out and did the same thing. At that moment I was so glad I had no emotional connection to the potential embarrassment of any of these people and upon realizing it, the whole event became hilarious.
When we broke for lunch I told Pepin that I had to be somewhere in an hour and he patted me on the back and told me I was fine to leave. There was almost a sense of "save yourself" in his voice. So I bee lined past the food (which looked dank)and headed for the exit. Walked a block, caught the 10 line home and then went for a 7 mile run.
If I think about it,not a bad Sunday at all.
-j
So the two of us left the apartment building and grabbed a taxi. Mind you, this is the closest proximity my host dad and I have ever been in, save for the occasional dinner. He and the taxista had a conversation about the corrupt government while the taxista's cigarette smoke wafted back. We arrived at the hotel where the event was being held and powerwalked through the lobby. No one had arrived yet so we helped ourselves to the breakfast that we thought was for the invitees. Halfway through this mostly silent meal, a waiter came over and told us that the food was only for hotel guests. Whoops. In the smoothest of moves, my host dad paid the waiter and kept eating his ham and cheese croissant. A few other of my host parent's friends came and sat with us and I found myself deeply engrossed in a conversation about how fantastic the city of Las Vegas is and how awesome the United States government was.
We finally went in to the room where the event was set up. It looked exactly like a business conference crammed into a small space. Pepin (my host dad) and I squeezed into one of the narrow rows and sat down. A few minutes later an annoyingly bouncy man came out in front and began explaining the event. His voice sounded like that of a mid-grade car salesman and gave me the impression I was about to be swindled into buying something I didn't know I wanted. There were five other "graduates" and the first woman began her presentation. With a dance. The entire audience was urged to stand up and follow along as the Sims-looking dancers on the screen did a series of increasingly humiliating dance moves. I glanced sideways at Pepin and knew that neither of us had any intention of losing that much dignity so early in the morning. After an eternity, everyone sat down and the woman continued her presentation.
Why was this such great human theatre? Well my friends, after the woman had finished, the same bouncy man came out and began publicly critiquing what she had done. Essentially, he constructively hoed her life. Then one of the other "judges"(there were three of them, I assume the teachers of the life coaching class)came out and did the same thing. At that moment I was so glad I had no emotional connection to the potential embarrassment of any of these people and upon realizing it, the whole event became hilarious.
When we broke for lunch I told Pepin that I had to be somewhere in an hour and he patted me on the back and told me I was fine to leave. There was almost a sense of "save yourself" in his voice. So I bee lined past the food (which looked dank)and headed for the exit. Walked a block, caught the 10 line home and then went for a 7 mile run.
If I think about it,not a bad Sunday at all.
-j
Friday, May 18, 2012
and in the end it's all about having fun isn't it?
This afternoon, this cold soggy rainy afternoon, my Visual Arts class piled in a van and went on a guided tour of some of the street art in Buenos Aires. For those who know me, you know that even the mention of street art makes my heart beat faster so even though it was a crappy day, I was still enamored by the rich luscious creative beautiful color disturbing thought-provoking whimsical street art I saw. The art ranged from murals to stencils to tags, combinations of them all. We learned about the artists and their histories, what materials they favored, the reasons behind their style. Something that our guide said stuck with me. She said, "...and in the end, it's all about getting your friends together and having fun, isn't it?" It's so simple and yet it's one of the truest things I've heard about art and what it means.
Art is...about having fun :)
-j
Art is...about having fun :)
-j
Sunday, May 13, 2012
living in an in-between
With roughly six weeks(!) left in Argentina, I've been taking stock of what I've done so far, what I want to do and how I'm feeling about everything now that time seems to be ticking down. I'll be the first to admit, Buenos Aires wasn't my first choice of a place to study abroad but I'm very glad I chose it. I have grown a lot in my time here and know that I'll only keep building on those changes once I'm home. It's hard to explain how I feel about being here but the best way I've come up with is that: I'm glad I'm here and I'm doing my best to get the most out of my time here but when the time is over I will be ready to go home. I know that this is where I am supposed to be right now and the same is true for when I go back to Ann Arbor.
Even this far into my time in BA, I feel like I am floating between two worlds, my world here in BA and my world in Michigan. Sometimes I feel frustrated, as though I'm not fully present in either of them and I have to remind myself that there is a time and a place for everything and right now is my time to BE in BsAs.
As this is Mother's Day, I'll close by saying that I could not be here without my mother's love, patience and support. She knows how to hold my hand and make me smile even from a world away. Te quiero mucho!
-j
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