Antípoda

What pieces or projects have you been working on lately?
I'm working on several projects right now. One is a performance piece made up of audio and texts I've written over the last fifteen years. I'm also working on three photography projects. This is important to me because photography was the first discipline I worked with from the beginning. My mother gave me my first camera when I was eight, and I had my first solo photography exhibition when I was twenty-four. After not taking photos for eight years—during which I was developing my Limbic Art practice—I hardly did any photography projects. I took photos to illustrate the process, but not as my primary discipline. Currently, the three photography projects I'm developing are shaping the Antipode series. This is a series of photos I took between Taiwan and Yucatán that seeks to highlight my condition as an existentialist foreigner. These photos were all taken with Kodak 400 TMAX film using a Nikon F3 T camera that my mother gave me. I'm also working on a collaborative project with La Periferia Film, curated and guided by Omar Góngora and Antonio Juárez. Finally, I'm working on a retrospective exhibition to commemorate the nearly twenty years since my first exhibition, which is when I began to consider dedicating myself to this crazy world we call art and culture. 

What did you learn (or unlearn) while working on them?
With Antípoda and Asuntos Privados I learned, or rather confirmed, that each discipline has its own language, but that they can be accompanied by other disciplines, such as photography with performance, or narrative/text. I also confirmed the importance of preserving an archive and reviewing it years after its creation. The process of digesting the images is important. Seeing them through the years and confirming that you still like them, and even like them more, is a superlative creative experience. Antípoda there are images that carry an incredibly strong, unique emotional charge. They also help me see how my life has changed over the last ten years. The people who are no longer here, and those who have arrived. The connections. Processes I'm involved in. Collaborations, like my connection with ERRR, which began about ten or eleven years ago—when I started taking these photos. All of this is a process that could well be called the path of learning, these decisive and formative journeys in the development of art practices and series. 

What words, ideas or emotions were going through your head?
La idea de ser un extranjero en todas partes. Esa serie se hizo entre la península de Yucatán y Taiwán (y unas cuantas en Estado de México y Tabasco). México y Taiwán, casi antípodas geográficas, fueron lugares en los que yo viví y conforme una serie de experiencias que fueron muy importantes en mi vida. Esto se transmite en las fotos siento yo. Siempre me gusta decir que a partir de los treintas la vida se va haciendo de a deveras: ahí las experiencias se hacen más profundas; las separaciones, los amigos que parten al otro umbral, los amigos que forjan o confirman los vínculos, el amor, la pasión, los grises de la paleta que antes era solamente blanca o negra. El mirar al vacío, el entender sin entender, y quizá aproximarse a lo poético como nunca antes. 

Were there any conversations, movies, music, or books that made their way into that work?
Many sources informed this work. From the existentialist photography of Koudelka, Chang Chao-Tang, Araki, Daido Moriyama, and Takuma Nakahira. In literature, Raymond Carver (What We Talk About When We Talk About Love) and Haruki Murakami (Kafka by the Shore and Norwegian Wood). In the final selection, Alejandro Zambra's Chilean Poet and Mbougar Sarr's The Most Recondite Memory of Men. Postmodern Taiwanese cinema such as Edward Yang's Yi Yi and Tsai Ming-liang's Vive l'amour. In music, I could say the sounds of Roger Eno, Jon Hopkins, Robin Guthrie, Cocteau Twins, Yo La Tengo, The Books, Haruomi Osono and Miharu Kosho (Swing Slow), Stars of the Lid, Emahoy Tsege, Mariam Gebru, and the Balanescu Quartet.

What's been the most difficult thing you've faced recently in your creative process?
Lately, I've been adapting my artistic process and practices to a new territory that is also familiar to me. But this is more of a challenge than a difficulty. However, I remember in the past—many years ago—having to sell the Nikon F3 T camera that my mother gave me. At some point when I was starting out in Taiwan, I had to sell all my cameras to cover expenses and stay in Asia to complete my transcultural odyssey. This was quite difficult since material possessions carried a very strong emotional weight. Everything worked out in the end. But letting go was very difficult, I can't deny it. There were also some moments of nostalgia and deep melancholy while living in Taiwan. There was a time when I didn't know many people, I had no friends, and those were complex times. Fortunately, this didn't slow down my creative process. But it was a place where things weren't very clear, and there was very little space for meaningful dialogue and friendship. 

What is your favorite restaurant and what do you recommend we order?
In Taiwan, a cabin at the foot of the mountain where I lived in Yangmingshan National Park. A piece of pork marinated in soy sauce, ginger, and other spices. With taro tempura fried in oil alongside aged tofu, and vegetables picked that same day on the mountain. A simple, straightforward, and exquisite dish. It was my Sunday treat. The place is called "La menor de las tres hermanas." 

At home, I make the best arrachera pita in the world. With cucumber yogurt that I buy from a legendary Lebanese gentleman in Mérida, and meat from a ranch in the municipality of Tizimín. 

Los tamales de los 4 hermanos, is not a restaurant but they make the best Mucpibpollo —buried tamale and critique of three meats— in Yucatán, and why the world. 

In Mérida, Yucatán, too: Manjar Blanco. Queso Relleno is a poem that transports you to another parallel universe. A true poem of a wildly imaginative and existential mix that only a Yucatecan could conceive: Dutch cheese with Kol, tomato, corn tortillas, and pork with raisins and olives. Covered in handmade tortillas… Impossible to describe, you have to come to Yucatán to try it. 

If your life were a movie this month, what would it be called and who would write the soundtrack?
Instead of a month, I'd say a season. There are definitely several artists confirmed for the soundtrack, but to name a few, I'd say Jordi Savall, Underworld, David Silvyan, Laurie Anderson, The Durutti Column, Charlie Megira, Masakatsu Takagi, and Abel Ibáñez. For a better approximation this is a playlist very much of my present.

Recommend us an artist you follow who inspires you, and tell us what you like most about their work or their way of working.
It's difficult because I have so many. And several of them are very dear friends whom I respect and love very much. But on this occasion, I'll mention Lolo y Sosaku. I've been following them for several years now. Lolo and I are pen pals. They're a duo that combines painting, performance, multimedia, and sound. They take their projects to the very end. They make mini robots that paint and wreak havoc simultaneously. They play concerts in very different venues and truly give it their all. I love their authenticity and dedication. I admire them immensely. I'd love to collaborate with them on a project in the future.