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Comunal: Taller de Arquitectura
“COMUNAL se funda en el año 2015 en la Ciudad de México por Mariana Ordóñez Grajales, arquitecta egresada de la Universidad Autónoma de Yucatán. En el año 2017 se asocia con el equipo la arquitecta Jesica Amescua Carrera, egresada de la Universidad Iberoamericana.

Para nuestro equipo, la arquitectura no es un objeto, es más bien un proceso social participativo, vivo y abierto, que permite a los pobladores expresar sus ideas, necesidades y aspiraciones, poniéndolos siempre en el centro de los proyectos y la toma de decisiones.

Abordamos los problemas de habitabilidad en comunidades rurales con una visión integral y compleja. Interesadas siempre en el planteamiento de soluciones adecuadas a las condiciones socioambientales de cada región, colaboramos con diversos profesionistas dependiendo de las necesidades de cada proyecto.

Nuestra labor conjuga la arquitectura y la ingeniería para la innovación tecnológica de sistemas constructivos con materiales regionales y la conservación de las tipologías vernáculas, lo cual resulta del intercambio de saberes entre pobladores, especialistas y técnicos.

Creemos firmemente en nuestra profesión como una herramienta que puede ayudar a mejorar la calidad de vida de las comunidades a través de procesos que detonen autonomía, empoderamiento y autosuficiencia.”



“MISIÓN
Colaborar en el mejoramiento de las condiciones de vida y el habitar de las comunidades rurales de nuestro país, así como en el rescate y fortalecimiento de la memoria territorial a través de procesos participativos integrales que detonen la valoración de los saberes locales, autonomía, intercambio de saberes, resiliencia y empoderamiento, poniendo siempre a los habitantes al centro de los procesos y la toma de decisiones

VISIÓN
Facilitar, de forma respetuosa y honesta, procesos comunitarios impulsados de forma autogestiva con el objetivo de mejorar las condiciones de habitabilidad de sus pobladores a través de un genuino intercambio de saberes.

FILOSOFÍA DE TRABAJO
Conscientes de la realidad que existe en las comunidades indígenas de nuestro país, en donde los derechos humanos básicos y constitucionales como la vivienda, la salud y la educación están muchas veces ausentes, cuestionamos y replanteamos el papel del arquitecto no solo como un profesional capaz de dar forma a espacios para dar refugio, sino como una entidad con la capacidad de responder a las necesidades de las comunidades a través de la gestión social, política y económica. Concebimos nuestro trabajo y compromiso de manera integral y sistémica, abordando todos los aspectos legales, políticos, sociales, económicos y ambientales necesarios para la consolidación de un proyecto comunitario.

PREMISAS DE TRABAJO
Creemos firmemente en nuestra profesión como una herramienta para mejorar la calidad de vida en las comunidades a través de procesos que detonan la autonomía, el empoderamiento y la autosuficiencia. En este sentido, nuestro trabajo se basa en las siguientes premisas:

1. Colocar a las comunidades como el actor principal de los procesos y la toma de decisiones en los proyectos que incidirán en su Hábitat.

2. Reconocer a los pobladores como sujetos de acción que tienen la capacidad de tomar las decisiones más adecuadas para su desarrollo. En este sentido, colaboramos con las comunidades para generar dinámicas de reflexión que abonen a dicha toma de decisiones.

3. Diseñar basándonos en los derechos humanos, así como en el rescate y la preservación de la sabiduría popular y la cosmovisión particular de las comunidades.

4. Partir de las capas culturales, ambientales, arquitectónicas y territoriales existentes en la región, tomando en cuenta los saberes constructivos tradicionales de los pueblos orginarios.

5. Fortalecer el diálogo y la conexión existente entre el territorio y las comunidades, a través de proyectos que aborden el uso de los bienes naturales mediante un enfoque sistémico.

6. Desarrollar estrategias sociales y arquitectónicas que detonen prácticas que influyan en las políticas públicas nacionales.

7. Promover proyectos enfocados al desarrollo comunitario integral y a la reducción de la vulnerabilidad en la región.

8. Generar mecanismos para que nuestro equipo colabore con las comunidades con la finalidad de generar autonomía y empoderamiento. Es decir, que las comunidades sean capaces de satisfacer sus necesidades de habitabilidad aún cuando nuestro equipo no se encuentre presente en la región.

9. Recuperar la construcción colectiva presente en la historia de las comunidades a través del tequio, faena o mano vuelta. Es decir, reconstruir no solamente el entorno físico sino también el tejido social.

VALORES
- Equidad de género
- Autonomía
- Autosuficiencia
- Solidaridad
- Empoderamiento
- Honestidad
- Respeto”
comuna  architecture  mexico  mexicodf  marianaordóñezgrajales  participation  participatory  rural  autonomy  empowerment  self-sufficiency 
8 weeks ago by robertogreco
Los Angeles Linguistics Part 2: Regional Differences | Eric Brightwell
"Most metropolitan areas — at least the ones I’m familiar with — are divided both into neighborhoods and larger, multi-neighborhood administrative divisions or regions. Paris has its arrondissements, New York City its boroughs, Busan and Seoul have gu (구), Taipei has qū (區), St. Louis and New Orleans both have wards, Mexico City has municipios, and on. Their names vary, then, but the concept is generally the same and in most places the designations seem to be rather formalized and settled upon. In Los Angeles, the capital of informality and unsettlement, this is not the case.

Home to 10.17 million people, Los Angeles is by far the most populous of the US’ 3,007 counties and 64 parishes. It’s also home to a larger population of people than 42 of the 50 states. At 12,310 km2 in size, it also is larger than 37 of the world’s countries and dependencies. It is inevitable, then, that Los Angeles — county, city, and idea — would be divided into some sorts of regions but how depends on who’s doing the dividing. For example, the postal service assigns zip codes, law enforcement has patrol divisions, and the city council its districts. Some Angelenos have adopted those, however unwieldy and regardless of their purpose and are quick to claim authority — usually based on their status as a native — even though no two natives are apparently in agreement and there are, despite claims to the contrary, no official regional divisions.

My focus here is less one which neighborhoods belong to what regions but to how those regions came into being and how they’ve changed. In 1925, for example, English-Angeleno Aldous Huxley famously referred to Los Angeles as “nineteen suburbs in search of a metropolis.” I wonder how he arrived at the number nineteen. 46 years later, another English-Angeleno, Reyner Banham, divided the region into four “ecologies”: Autopia, the Foothills, the Plains of Id, and Surfurbia. As unlikely as it seems, it may’ve been the Los Angeles Times ambitious Mapping L.A. project, which only launched in 2009 (228 years after Los Angeles’s founding) that a serious effort was made to formalize the regional divisions of Los Angeles. Predictably, their valiant efforts (which incorporated input from the public) were not without controversy but for the most part, I am in general agreement with them and have, in the cases in which they apparently created a new designation, adopted them. I have also (when no such designation appears to have existed previously) coined a couple of my own — but only where there was no prior designation or consensus."
ericbrightwell  maps  mapping  losangeles  regions  nyc  paris  seoul  mexicocity  df  mexicodf  stlouis  nola  neworleans  neighborhoods  municipalities  losangelescounty  2018 
september 2018 by robertogreco
Los Libros Silvestres (@loslibrosilvestres) • Fotos y vídeos de Instagram
"Librería en línea con material anarquista, feminista, antidesarrollista y crítica cultural."

[See also:
https://twitter.com/LibroSilvestres
https://www.facebook.com/LosLibroSilvestres/

"Librería en línea con material anarquista, feminista, antidesarrollista y crítica cultural."]
books  booksellers  communism  anarchism  anarchy  mexico  mexicodf  feminism 
april 2018 by robertogreco
Mexico 68 - 99% Invisible
"The clear iconography of the Metro system is a reminder of a complicated and sometimes terrible period in Mexico City’s history. It’s a simple design that invites you to explore the massive and complex metropolis. It is a graphic design system that assures that, if you get lost, no matter where you’re from, or what language you speak, you can find your way around, and see the city for yourself."

[See also: http://www.hermanmiller.com/why/talking-pictures.html ]
design  graphicdesign  1968  olympics  mexico  graphics  mexicocity  df  mexicodf  lancewyman  petermurdoch  opart  art  history  typography  luiscastañeda  color  mexico68  government  civics  metro  transportation  subways  worldcup  1970  tolisten 
june 2017 by robertogreco
‘Modern Mexican’ Steps Into the Spotlight - The New York Times
"Rosio Sánchez, a Mexican-American chef who lives in Copenhagen, makes the best tortillas in Scandinavia.

That, she admits, isn’t necessarily saying much — like laying claim to the best pizza in Indonesia.

“It was so much worse,” she said, describing the state of Mexican food when she arrived in 2010 to work as the pastry chef at the celebrated restaurant Noma. “Imagine the worst Tex-Mex food in America, and imagine that being passed on like a game of telephone, by people who have no idea what real Mexican food is.”

That is beginning to change, and not only in Copenhagen, where Ms. Sánchez has opened a taqueria with freshly ground, hand-pressed corn tortillas.

It goes far beyond tacos and tortillas, though: Mexican cuisine has made the leap to the global stage of fine dining. Restaurants like Pujol, Rosetta and Quintonil in Mexico City; Laja and Malva in Baja California; Origen in Oaxaca; and Hartwood here in Tulum all produce creative, world-class menus from the lush variety of fruit, fish, vegetables, herbs, grains and flowers that grow around them.

In places like Barcelona, London and Melbourne, as well as Chicago, Los Angeles and New York, food lovers are seeing the cuisine of Mexico in a bright new light.

Chefs are making house-cured chorizo in Toronto, and Michelin-starred chilaquiles at Punto MX in Madrid. Last week, the Houston chef Hugo Ortega, who began his working life as a shoeshine boy in Mexico City, received the James Beard Foundation’s award for best chef in his region: a first for a Mexico-born chef.

“Everywhere, I see a new respect for Mexican culture,” said Martha Ortiz, a celebrity chef in Mexico who is opening a warmly elegant restaurant, Ella Canta, in the InterContinental London Park Lane hotel this summer. Ten years ago, when a taco in London might easily have contained canned baked beans, the idea of a Mexican restaurant in a posh hotel would have been mystifying.

“Our traditional food has always had a high value at home, and there is a lot of respect for the women who produce it,” she said. “But for people internationally to be excited about it and willing to pay for it? That is new.”

These developments are part of a movement, inside and outside Mexico, to finally vanquish the rice-and-beans stereotype and to celebrate its vast and sophisticated cuisine. Just as New Nordic cuisine brought global attention to Scandinavian rye bread, smoked fish and Arctic berries, the newly coined “Modern Mexican” shines a spotlight on ingredients like cacao, agave and cactus; pre-Hispanic varieties of tomatoes, squash and pumpkins; and the country’s all-important corn and chiles.

Outside Mexico, at places like Cosme and Empellón in New York; Hoja Santa, the Adrià brothers’ restaurant in Barcelona; Broken Spanish in Los Angeles; and Cala and Californios in San Francisco, chefs are carefully combining Mexican flavors with modern ideas and local references. At Atla, in Manhattan, the tostada with Arctic char, farmer’s cheese and capers deliberately echoes the Lower East Side’s traditional bagel with scallion cream cheese and lox."



"Claudia Prieto Piastro, a Mexican food anthropologist, said: “I don’t object to others working with our food. I do object to feeling like we’re supposed to be grateful that someone is shining a light on it.”

It should also be recognized that in parts of the country with less agriculture and fewer tourists, like Durango and Puebla, the culinary picture is not as rosy.

Most chefs, however, are happy to have Mr. Redzepi here. “Anything that helps put Mexican cuisine on the world map is good for all of us,” said Roberto Solís, the chef and owner of Nectar in Mérida, the largest city in the region, who specializes in the cooking of the Yucatán.

And, he said, even chefs in Mexico have a long way to go in learning about the food of their own nation. From north to south, Mexico covers the same distance that exists between Ireland and Greece, and Mexican cuisine is not easy to draw a line around.

“Chefs come here to have real cochinita pibil,” he said, referring to the region’s Mayan-style pit-cooked pig. “And then they tell me that they like the one in Mexico City better.”"
food  mexico  restaurants  mexicocity  df  mexicodf  costamesa  sanfrancisco  bajacalifornia  california  oaxaca  losangeles  barcelona  nyc 
may 2017 by robertogreco
The Alternative Art School Fair Radio | Clocktower
"The Alternative Art School Fair at Pioneer Works presents an introduction to alternative art schools from around the US and the world, November 19-20, 2016. The entire event, including workshops, discussions, and keynote presentations by Carol Becker, Luis Camnitzer, Craig Wilkins and Dorothea Rockburne, will be streamed live and archived on clocktower.org.

See the radio schedule below to plan your listening party. The live listening link can be found HERE.

Art education is a reflection of social and cultural evolution; it engages with structures of meaning-making and considers different frameworks for experience. The impetus to create an alternative art school is rooted not only in a desire to create “better” art, but to create the conditions for greater freedom of expression. Often run as free, artist-run initiatives, the values and visions of alternative art schools vary widely in methodology, mission and governance. But even when they are relatively small in scale they provide vital models of cultural critique and experimentation.

Listening Schedule:
November 19
Keynote panel -- 12:00-1:30PM
Carol Becker
Luis Camnitzer
Dorothea Rockburne
Victoria Sobel
Interviewer/Moderator: Catherine Despont

How can alternative systems impact traditional arts education? -- 2-3:30PM
Ox-Bow
Daniel Bozhkov
School of the Future
Interviewer/Moderator: Regine Basha

Art and Democracy -- 3:45-5:15PM
UNIDEE
The Black Mountain School
UOIEA (Anna Craycroft)
Interviewer/Moderator: Provisions Library

Self-Governance as Pedagogy: Of Other Spaces -- 5:30-7:30PM
Art and Law Program
Interviewer/Moderator: Associate Director Lauren van Haaften-Schick
Art & Law Program Fellows: Abram Coetsee & Alex Strada (Fall 2016), Damien Davis (Spring 2016)

November 20
Keynote -- 12:00-1:30PM
Dr. Craig L. Wilkins, PhD, RA

Hybrid Practice -- 2:00-3:30PM
SFPC
Zz School of Print Media
Southland Institute
Interviewer/Moderator: Archeworks

Responsive Programming: A Conversation Between The Ventriloquist Summerschool and Sheila Levrant de Bretteville -- 3:45-5:15PM
The Ventriloquist Summerschool
Sheila Levrant de Bretteville

(Re)incorporating Art in Everyday Life -- 5:30-7:00PM
Chad Laird (Sunview Luncheonette)
Tal Beery (School of Apocalypse)
Tatfoo Tan (NERTM)
Moderator/Interviewer: Grizedale Arts"
tolisten  education  altgdp  openstudioproject  lcproject  sfsh  schools  artschools  2016  radio  art  pioneerworks  alternative  diy  small  democracy  local  play  self-directed  self-directedlearning  unschooling  deschooling  architecture  nyc  brooklyn  chicago  uk  guatemala  london  egypt  puertorico  sanjuan  northcarolina  portonovo  benin  statenisland  design  michigan  saugatuck  curriculum  pedagogy  learning  howelearn  organizations  cooperatives  publishing  networks  fairfax  virginia  losangeles  oslo  accrá  edinburgh  making  craft  mexicocity  mexicodf  df  mexico  noray  stavanger  paris  france  brussels  mutlidisciplinary  interdisciplinary  transdisciplinary  kansascity  missouri  seoul  biella  italia  italy  systemsthinking  socialjustice  independence  carolbecker  victoriasobel  reginebasha  transart  marywallingblackburn  craigwilkins  sheilalevrantdebretteville  michaelnewton  shannonharvey  hragvartanian  crossdisciplinary  multidisciplinary  communication  technology  socialnetworks  artschool 
december 2016 by robertogreco
Alternative Art School Fair | Pioneer Works
[See also: The Alternative Art School Fair Radio
http://clocktower.org/series/the-alternative-art-school-fair-radio ]

"The Alternative Art School Fair
November 19-20, 2016

The Alternative Art School Fair presents an introduction to alternative art schools from around the US and the world.

Art education is a reflection of social and cultural evolution; it engages with structures of meaning-making and considers different frameworks for experience. The impetus to create an alternative art school is rooted not only in a desire to create “better” art, but to create the conditions for greater freedom of expression. Often run as free, artist-run initiatives, the values and visions of alternative art schools vary widely in methodology, mission and governance. But even when they are relatively small in scale they provide vital models of cultural critique and experimentation.

The Alternative Art School Fair event, including workshops, discussions, and keynote presentations by Carol Becker, Luis Camnitzer, Craig Wilkins and Dorothea Rockburne, will be streamed live and archived by Clocktower Productions on clocktower.org.

Media Sponsor:
Hyperallergic

Participating Schools

AAPG – Alternative Art Program Guatemala • AltMFA • Anhoek School • Archeworks • Arts Letters & Numbers • ASCII Project • Beta-Local • Black Mountain School • Brooklyn Institute for Social Research • Center for Art Analysis • COLLABOR • école de Hogbonu • Enroll Yourself • Free School of Architecture • Islington Mill Art Academy • Grizedale Arts • Ox-Bow School of Art and Artists' Residency • NERTM - New Earth Resiliency Training Module • Nomad/9 • Pioneer Works • School of Apocalypse • School of Critical Engagement - SoCE • School of the Future • School for Poetic Computation • SOMA • Sommerskolen • Spring Sessions • Sunview Luncheonette • The Art & Law Program • The Black School • The Other MA - TOMA • The Public School • The School of Making Thinking • The Southland Institute • The Ventriloquist Summerschool • The Zz School of Print Media • Thinker Space • Transart Institute • Uncertainty School • UNIDEE - University of Ideas • Utopia School

Presses, Libraries, Resources

Arthur Fournier Fine and Rare • Booklyn • Brooklyn Art Library • Common Field • Inventory Press • OSSAI - Open Source and Space Administration Institute for Alternative Research • Provisions Library • Sketchbook • Project Zone Books

Saturday Schedule … [with session descriptions]

Sunday Schedule … [with session descriptions]

Schools [and a few other things, as noted, website links to descriptions, and to each school’s site if there is one]

AltMFA
London, United Kingdom

Alternative Art College
United Kingdom

Alternative Art Program
Guatemala

Anhoek School
Brooklyn, New York, USA

Antiuniversity Now
London, United Kingdom

Archeworks
Chicago, Illinois, USA

Arts Letters & Numbers
New York, USA

ASCII Project
Mohansein Giza, Egypt

Beta-Local
San Juan, Puerto Rico

Black Mountain School
Black Mountain, North Carolina, USA

GALLERY
Booklyn
Brooklyn, New York, USA

LIBRARY
Brooklyn Art Library
Brooklyn, New York, USA

SCHOOL
Brooklyn Institute for Social Research
Brooklyn, NY, USA

NETWORK
Common Field
National

école de Hogbonu
Porto Novo, Bénin

Enrol Yourself
London, United Kingdom

BOOKSTORE
Fournier Fine & Rare
Brooklyn, New York, USA

Grizedale Arts
Coniston, Lake District, UK

PRESS
Inventory Press
New York, New York, USA

New Earth Resiliency Training Module [NERTM]
Staten Island, NY, USA

Nomad/9 MFA
Hartford, Connecticut, USA

RESOURCE
Open Source and Space Administration Institute for Alternative Research [OSSAI]
nomadic

Ox-Bow School of Art and Artists’ Residency
Saugatuck, Michigan, USA

Pioneer Works
Brooklyn, New York, USA

LIBRARY
Provisions Library
Fairfax, Virginia, USA

Ricean School of Dance
Hydra Island, Greece

School of Apocalypse
Brooklyn, New York, USA

School of Critical Engagement [SoCE]
Los Angeles / Oslo / Accra

School of the Future
Brooklyn, New York, USA

School for Poetic Computation
New York, NY, USA

Shift/Work
Edinburgh, Scotland

Spring Sessions
Amman, Jordan

SOMA
Mexico City, Mexico

Sommerskolen
Stavanger, Norway

Southland Institute
Los Angeles, California, USA

Sunview Luncheonette
Brooklyn, New York, USA

The Art & Law Program
New York, New York, USA

The Black School
Brooklyn, New York, USA

The Cheapest University
Paris, France

The Free School of Architecture
Los Angeles, California, USA

The Public School
Brussels, New York City, Los Angeles, and elsewhere

The School of Making Thinking
Brooklyn, New York, USA

The School of the Damned
London, United Kingdom

The Ventriloquist Summerschool
Oslo, Norway

The Zz School of Print Media
Kansas City, Missouri, USA

ThinkerSpace
Brussels, New York City, Los Angeles, and elsewhere

TOMA
Southend-on-Sea, United Kingdom

Transart Institute
Berlin, Germany, and New York, New York, USA

Uncertainty School
Seoul, New York, International

UNIDEE-University Of Ideas
Biella, Italy

Union of Initiatives for Educational Assembly (UOIEA)
Sites vary

PRESS
Zone Books
Brooklyn, NY, USA"
altgdp  art  artschools  pioneerworks  2016  alternative  diy  lcproject  openstudioproject  sfsh  small  democracy  local  play  self-directed  self-directedlearning  unschooling  deschooling  architecture  nyc  brooklyn  chicago  uk  guatemala  london  egypt  puertorico  sanjuan  northcarolina  portonovo  benin  statenisland  design  michigan  saugatuck  curriculum  pedagogy  learning  howelearn  organizations  cooperatives  publishing  networks  fairfax  virginia  losangeles  oslo  accrá  edinburgh  making  craft  mexicocity  mexicodf  df  mexico  noray  stavanger  paris  france  brussels  mutlidisciplinary  interdisciplinary  transdisciplinary  kansascity  missouri  seoul  biella  italia  italy  systemsthinking  socialjustice  independence  carolbecker  victoriasobel  reginebasha  transart  marywallingblackburn  craigwilkins  sheilalevrantdebretteville  michaelnewton  shannonharvey  hragvartanian  crossdisciplinary  multidisciplinary  communication  technology  socialnetworks  artschool 
december 2016 by robertogreco
The Architect Who Became a Diamond - The New Yorker
"Barragán was a devout Catholic, and his work is characterized by a mixture of opulence and abnegation. “Where do you find more eroticism than in the cloister of a convent?” he once asked. His buildings are mostly residential, with anonymous perimeter walls that protect modestly sized but lavish interiors. Louis Kahn recalled that, in the sixties, he asked Barragán to help him design the courtyard garden at the Salk Institute and flew him out to San Diego to see the site. Barragán took one look at the expanse of concrete and said, “You are going to hate me, but there should be no tree here,” and went home, forsaking a commission from one of his most famous living colleagues.

Tall, blue-eyed, and bald from a young age, Barragán lived beautifully and tyrannically. He wore English sports jackets, silk shirts, and knitted ties; he had a Cadillac and employed a chauffeur. He enjoyed melon halves drizzled with sherry, and was known to have his maid prepare entirely pink meals. An architect friend recalled being disinvited to tea on several occasions because the light in the garden wasn’t right.

“You have no idea how much I hate small things, ugly things,” Barragán told the journalist Elena Poniatowska. “Yet the fragility of some women moves me.” Though he never married (and is thought by some to have been gay), his taste in women was particular: willowy, dark, with, as Poniatowska put it, “the big, hollow eyes of someone who has suffered.” Women recounted trying to lose weight in the weeks before visiting him. Barragán was generous with gifts, bringing small tokens of appreciation—silver boxes, flowers, packages of dates—even to casual lunches. He spoke gently and smiled often. He liked to read Proust, listen to classical music, and fantasize about the Russian gentry. Famously private, he despised his contemporaries’ infatuation with “uninhabitable” glass houses and thought that shadows were “a basic human need.” His work, likewise, was hidden: the residences were often within gated communities, the fountains protected by private courtyards. If there is a recurring criticism of Barragán, it is that he was undemocratic. He spent Sundays at an equestrian club, and when someone accused him of “only designing homes for rich people,” he allegedly replied, “And horses.”

I met Andrés Casillas, an architect now in his eighties who was a protégé of Barragán’s, at his home, an hour and a half from Mexico City. He had perfectly coiffed white hair and wore a fine cashmere sweater. His home had an austere, siesta-like feel that was unmistakably Barragánesque. He spoke slowly and with exaggerated gallantry. “This is stupid to say, but Barragán was a gentleman,” he told me. Casillas talked about meeting Barragán for the first time. He was eight years old, and had wandered around the “magical” garden of Barragán’s house for half an hour, after which Barragán presented him with a small glass of rompope, an eggnog-like liquor prepared by nuns. “I left absolutely mesmerized,” he said.

The hypnosis was by design. Barragán believed that architects should make “houses into gardens, and gardens into houses.” He made blueprints premised on surprise and an almost perverse protraction of pleasure. Low, dark corridors open into blindingly bright rooms with church-high ceilings. Floor plans only gradually make themselves evident to the visitor. He called it “architectural striptease.”

Walking through Barragán’s home, which was declared a unesco World Heritage site in 2004, one feels a sense of coercion, and Barragán himself never completely disappears. Keith Eggener, an architectural historian who made a pilgrimage to Barragán’s house soon after he died, recalled his impressions with the hesitant laughter of someone who’s embarrassed to tell the truth. “Even when it was run-down, it was a ravishing house,” he said. “I remember having this feeling of really wanting to spend the night there—not just to sleep in the house but to sleep with the house.”"



"In 2002, as an artist in residence at the Rijksakademie, in Amsterdam, Magid began noticing the large number of surveillance cameras in the city—anonymous gray boxes, mounted on everything from the corners of buildings to coffee-shop awnings. One February morning, she went to the police headquarters and explained that she was an artist interested in decorating the municipal cameras with rhinestones. She was directed to the appropriate police administrators, who told her that they did not work with artists. She thanked them and left. A few weeks later, Magid returned, armed with business cards and a corporate-speak sales pitch, presenting herself as the Head Security Ornamentation Professional at System Azure, a company that she had made up. The police not only allowed her to bedazzle the cameras but even paid her a couple of thousand dollars. “I realized that they could not hear me when I spoke as an artist,” Magid later said. “This had nothing to do with what I proposed but with who I was.”

The impish venture touched on a theme that Magid has returned to again and again, in increasingly ambitious ways. Her aim with most of her work is to humanize institutional power structures, subtly undermining them while adhering to the letter of their regulations: exploiting legal escape clauses and other red tape, and forging relationships with civil servants. She has ensconced herself in the Dutch secret service and been trained by a New York City cop. She once got members of a surveillance team from Liverpool’s police force to direct her through a public square with her eyes closed. In 2008, she told me, a Dutch government official warned her that she was considered a national-security threat. Though she cares deeply about how her work looks, she has less in common with other artists than with people whose jobs are not typically thought of as artistic: spies, investigative journalists, forensic experts.

Magid’s work can seem like a series of extended pranks, but when I suggested this to her she was aghast. “No!” she exclaimed. She laughed but seemed genuinely distressed. “I hate mean-spirited work,” she said. “It’s about the engagement. A prank doesn’t engage. A prank is: you throw something in and watch what happens. This is a commitment.” Still, people often ask Magid why anyone ever agrees to collaborate with her. She has said that she thinks it is “due to some combination of vanity, pride, and loneliness.”"



"Magid heard about the archive by coincidence: her gallery in Mexico City, Labor, is across the street from Casa Barragán. “It intrigued me as a gothic love story,” she has said, “with a copyright-and-intellectual-property-rights subplot.” In early 2013, Magid contacted Zanco through an intermediary, to introduce herself as an artist working on a project about Barragán, and asked if she might visit the archive. Zanco replied that she was “completely unable to allow access to the collection, nor be of any help to third parties.” A few months later, Magid sent a handwritten request, explaining that she had an upcoming show on Barragán in New York. She invited Zanco to curate pieces from her archive for inclusion. She signed off, “With Warmth and Admiration.” Zanco declined to collaborate, and warned, “I trust you would make yourself aware of the possible copyright implications of any sort of reproduction, and clear the related permissions, procedure and mandatory credits.”

That November, in Tribeca, Magid produced an exhibition about the impasse, “Woman with Sombrero,” which later travelled to Guadalajara. The show was a multimedia installation, with images of Barragán’s work, slide projections, and an iPad displaying the correspondence between Magid and Zanco. Objects were placed in teasing juxtaposition, in a way that suggested connections and narratives without insisting on them. Copies of books that Barragán had sent to various women lay on a bedside table that Magid had fabricated based on one of his designs. In what a press release described as “flirtation with the institutional structures involved,” Magid went to extreme lengths to stay just the right side of copyright law. Rather than reproduce Barragán images from Zanco’s book, for instance, Magid framed a copy of the book itself. The show was written up in the Times, and the article was not flattering to Zanco. Magid was quoted asking, “What’s the difference between loving something and loving something so much that you smother it?”

After the Times took an interest, Magid and Zanco’s correspondence became friendlier—either because Zanco now appreciated Magid’s work or because she realized that anything she wrote could end up as material in future shows. “Thank you for your company,” Zanco wrote at one point. “I feel definitely less lonely down in the archives.” The tone of their letters became familiar but measured. At no point did Magid mention her plan to make a diamond out of Barragán.

Magid agrees with those who argue that the Barragán archive should be open to the public and returned to Mexico, but she insists that this is not her focus. “If that’s what my intentions were, I don’t think I’d make art,” she told me. “I’ve always called the archive her lover. To marry one man, she negotiated owning another man, whom she’s devoted her life to. It’s a weird love triangle, and I’m the other woman.”"



"Magid was disconcerted; she’d expected Zanco to be alone. She followed Zanco in. Fehlbaum was there, seated, his back to a glass wall, and greeted her warmly. Zanco sat down beside him and gestured for Magid to take a seat across from them.

“I brought you this,” Magid said, taking a bottle of champagne from her bag. It was wrapped in an announcement of her St. Gallen show. Zanco removed the paper and thanked her. For the next hour, over lunch, the three of … [more]
2016  jillmagid  luisbarragán  architecture  art  archives  performanceart  laurapoitras  film  bureaucracy  institutions  casaluisbarragán  barraganfoundation  federicazanco  switzerland  guadalajar  mexico  mexicocity  mexicof  df  sfai  sanfrancisco  death  copyright  elenaponiatowska  pranks  engagement  performance  loneliness  journalism  alicegregory  mexicodf 
december 2016 by robertogreco
Jill Magid: The Proposal | SFAI
"The Proposal presents a climactic moment within Jill Magid’s extended, multimedia artwork, The Barragán Archives, which examines the legacy of Mexican architect and Pritzker Prize-winner Luis Barragán (1902–1988). The multi-year project poses piercing, radical, and pragmatic questions about the forms of power, public access, and copyright that construct artistic legacy. With this work, Magid asks, “What happens to an artist’s legacy when it is owned by a corporation and subject to a country’s laws where none of his architecture exists? Who can access it? Who can’t?”

Through his will, Barragán split his archive into two parts. Along with the vast majority of his architecture, Barragán’s personal archive remains in Mexico at his home, Casa Barragán, which is now a museum and UNESCO World Heritage Site. In 1995, Barragán’s professional archive, including the rights to his name and work and all photographs taken of it, was purchased by the Chairman of the Swiss furniture company Vitra, allegedly as a gift for his fiancé, Federica Zanco; who now serves as Director of the Barragan Foundation. For the last twenty years, however, the archive has been publicly inaccessible, housed in a bunker at Vitra corporate headquarters.

The Proposal reaches a thrilling and unexpected salvo in Magid’s engagement with Barragán, Zanco, Barragán’s descendants, the Mexican Government, and the indispensable creative legacy that binds them. Through the public exhibition of The Proposal, Magid will present Zanco with the gift of a two-carat diamond engagement ring grown from the cremated remains of Barragán’s body, in exchange for the gift of his archive to Mexico.

The exhibit serves as both a poetic counterproposal to the original gift to Zanco, and a stunning re-animation of the formerly closed scenario. Magid’s gesture elegantly, and forcefully rejoins the divergent paths of Barragán’s professional and personal archives; even as it reveals Barragán’s official and private selves, and the unique interests of the institutions that have become the archives’ guardians. By developing long-term relationships with multiple individual, governmental, and corporate entities, Magid directly engages complex intersections of the psychological with the judicial, national identity and repatriation, international property rights and copyright law, authorship and ownership, the human body and the body of work. On May 31, 2016, Magid proposed to Zanco in Switzerland. The Proposal has not only exhumed Barragán’s physical remains, but opened the possibility to bring his spiritual and artistic legacy up out of the vault and back to life.

Read about The Proposal at The New Yorker » [http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2016/08/01/how-luis-barragan-became-a-diamond ]

The Proposal is commissioned by San Francisco Art Institute. The exhibition is curated by Hesse McGraw, SFAI Vice President for Exhibitions and Public Programs, and organized with Katie Hood Morgan, Assistant Curator and Exhibitions Manager.

About the Artist

Through an artistic practice that is at once visual, textual, and performative, Jill Magid (*1973, lives in New York) forges intimate relationships within bureaucratic structures—flirting with, seducing, and subverting authority. Her projects probe seemingly impenetrable systems, such as the NYPD, the Dutch Secret Service, surveillance systems, and, most recently, the legacy of architect Luis Barragán, and infiltrates and unsettles these forms of power. Her work dynamically locates unexpected and rich communities within faceless bureaucracies.

Her works often take the form of elliptical love letters that draw out human qualities in agents of control. These charged encounters are founded on mutual trust, but are also fraught with ethical complications and social asymmetries. Through her works, Magid reframes the complexity, potential intimacy, and absurdity of our relationship with institutions and power.

Her performances and exhibitions have been commissioned and presented by the Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Tate Modern, London; UC Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive; and the New Museum, New York; among other venues.

Magid is represented by LABOR, Mexico City; RaebervonStenglin, Zurich; and Galerie Untilthen, Paris.

Related Film

A documentary about The Proposal will premiere on The Intercept in Fall 2016. Field of Vision, a filmmaker-driven visual journalism film unit created by Laura Poitras, AJ Schnack, and Charlotte Cook, commissioned the documentary, which is directed by Magid, and filmed and produced by Jarred Alterman. View Trailer »

Publication

The Proposal is accompanied by a co-publication between Sternberg Press; The Vera List Center for Art and Politics, The New School; and SFAI. Released as part of the Sternberg Press Critical Spatial Practice book series, the book is edited by Nikolaus Hirsch, Carin Kuoni, Hesse McGraw, and Markus Miessen, and features contributions by Nikolaus Hirsch, Jill Magid, Hesse McGraw, Leonardo Díaz Borioli, David Kim, Daniel McClean, Cuauhtémoc Medina, Beth Povinelli, and Ines Weizman. The publication is funded in part by Elizabeth Firestone Graham Foundation."
jillmagid  luisbarragán  archives  art  performanceart  2016  laurapoitras  film  bureaucracy  institutions  casaluisbarragán  barraganfoundation  federicazanco  architecture  switzerland  guadalajar  mexico  mexicocity  mexicof  df  sfai  sanfrancisco  mexicodf 
december 2016 by robertogreco
Alexandra Lange: Portfolio | Barragan House
"I visited Luis Barragan’s house in Mexico City in March. Inspired by Guy Trebay’s Travel story on visiting Barragan, a portfolio of photographs from that day."
alexandralange  luisbarragán  casaluisbarragán  2014  architecture  mexico  mexicocity  mexicodf  df 
december 2016 by robertogreco
Alexandra Lange: Portfolio | Casa Prieto
"While in Mexico City in March, I was also able to tour Casa Prieto Lopez, designed by Luis Barragan in 1950. The house is part of the luxurious suburb, master-planned by Barragan, called Jardines del Pedregal. The house was then for sale, with some (not all) of its original furnishings and artworks by Mathias Goeritz intact. It is far grander than Barragan’s own home, which is essentially on a townhouse lot. It also feels less fitted to the life of a particular human. One could intuit Barragan’s daily rituals from the spaces he made for them; the family Prieto had numerous children, and one imagined the architect leaving enough room between moments for their banging and flopping and wet feet. That last orange space is, of all things, the garage."
alexandralange  luisbarragán  casaprietolópez  2014  architecture  mexico  mexicocity  mexicodf  df 
december 2016 by robertogreco
ROAR Magazine: Defeating fear: lessons from Mexico’s housing movement
"Los Panchos has taken back land and collectively built thousands of homes since the late-1980s. What could Global North movements learn from its successes?"



"As with the housing movements in London, New York, Berlin and beyond, the emergence of Los Panchos was a response to rising property prices in the twenty-million-dense Mexican capital. “You can buy or sell everything in Mexico,” Enrique told the small gathering in South London, “but the poor couldn’t afford the basics after housing became a commodity. In the cities, land had been given to developers to build housing that people who live and work there couldn’t afford. As the price of land increased, we realized the only way we could survive was to organize together.”

So that’s what they did. Following on the heels of a failed attempt by party-political forces to provide basic housing for 500 families on disused land in the suburb of Iztapalapa in 1984, many families stayed behind and fought for the land without institutional support. They formed the Allepetlalli cooperative and negotiated the space for 384 homes to be built in 1987.

With the wind of this landmark victory in their sails, Los Panchos was formed in 1988 with the explicit aim of taking back land. With the Mexican state having so recently demonstrated its inability to provide for peoples’ needs, Los Panchos began to occupy another tract of land in the Iztapalapa neighborhood, establishing the El Molino settlement and building homes with whatever materials they could get their hands on.

Initially things were basic; a mix of wood and cardboard structures dotted the settlement. But the humble resources available were no impediment to construction. “The dignity of housing comes from the people who live in it,” Enrique reminded the London crowd. “Even if materials were at first basic or precarious, the houses were dignified.”

Of course, property owners were not immediately ingratiated by this demonstration of collective dignity. Mexican police were dispatched – as they had been in the early days of the Allepetlalli coop – and innumerable battles ensued as the occupiers defended their new homes from regular violent eviction attempts.

The battles made clear that more than housing was required, as injuries required greater healthcare provision than was typically available in one of Mexico City’s poorest suburbs. Thus, as the community fortified their living spaces, day-by-day, they also began to train one another in First Aid and other essential medical skills to maintain the community’s wellbeing, while living under sporadic states of siege.

As the number and quality of homes increased between police raids, the movement began to negotiate with the land owners for a selling price that they could afford to pay. Their steadfast presence on the land offered a strong incentive for the landlords to make a deal and cut their losses.

Alongside the financial negotiations, Los Panchos established a security commission, coordinating voluntary community patrols and establishing borders to keep the police out (unless their guns were left outside and they were accompanied by members of the community). Once established, (as has been the case in other such experiments in Mexico where police have been barred from a community), Enrique told us that “the crime rate dropped to almost zero.” Even some of the movement’s early critics came around to supporting them as the community solidified its presence in the area: “When we first took over the land, the neighbors viewed us as criminals,” Enrique remembers. “Now the neighbors join us on community patrols.”

Los Panchos were and are reclaiming the autonomy needed to live their lives beyond the dual tyrannies of the state and the market. It began with housing, but it couldn’t stop there. Today, 28 years on, El Molino, is one of ten occupied neighborhoods in Mexico City. The most recent, in the neighborhood of Tlahuac, was only established in 2012 and continues to grow.

The Acapatzingo settlement houses over 600 families and 2,400 residents. Between them, the ten communities are home to over 9,000 people who have managed to build alternative ways of living and working together, beyond government initiative or private property ownership.

Acapatzingo boasts education, health, sport and leisure facilities, all built and maintained by members of the community. Families take part in local assemblies in order to make collective decisions, and rotate representative roles for any decisions that require the input of other communities, beyond the immediate neighborhood.

“We don’t want to grow individual neighborhoods,” Enrique emphasizes, “we want our neighborhoods to inspire others to take action where they are. Rather than grow the scale of our assemblies, we want these assemblies to multiply in other places, in whatever ways are appropriate.”"
housing  mexico  protest  alternatives  mexicocity  mexicodf  lospanchos  community  collectivism  autonomy  development  acapatzingo  df 
july 2016 by robertogreco
Escuchatorio | UN ESPACIO QUE REPOSICIONA LA ESCUCHA COMO EJERCICIO POLÍTICO UN FLUJO SONORO DESDE EL CUAL TU ERES LA FUENTE MANDA TU SONIDO Y LO EMITIREMOS
"Este es un llamado a los caminantes, a sus pies y a sus oídos.

Caminar como acto de resistencia.
Caminar para perderse, para reencontrarse.
Caminar es estar alejándose de algo.
Caminar también como encuentro con la incertidumbre.
Caminar hacia el futuro y de regreso.
Caminar más lento, tomarse el tiempo, reducir el paso hasta detenerse.

Graba el sonido que hacen tus pasos.
Graba un camino imaginario, el cotidiano, el diferente.
Graba un paisaje sonoro de tu andar.
Tu grabación es un recorrido.

Manda tu sonido antes del 30 de abril. Todos los audios recibidos se difundirán en las radios y espacios participantes.

transmisión: 1 de mayo de 2016.

Escuchatorio #Camina se emitirá en una jornada de sol a sol de 7:09 a las 19:59 (12h 50m de duración) desde la Ciudad de México.

Moverse no es suficiente hay que caminar…"

[See also:
https://soundcloud.com/escuchatorio
https://www.instagram.com/escuchatorio/
https://twitter.com/escuchatorio ]
mexico  mexicodf  walking  resistance  via:felixblume  audio  sound  radio  df  mexicocity 
april 2016 by robertogreco
Teju Cole on Instagram: “Mexico City, December 2015. I went from my little Mexico in Brooklyn to Dallas, which is a Mexico. Later I spent a few days in Santa Fe, a Mexico different from my Brooklyn Mexico. In Mexico City I was full of prior Mexicos, the
"Mexico City, December 2015. I went from my little Mexico in Brooklyn to Dallas, which is a Mexico. Later I spent a few days in Santa Fe, a Mexico different from my Brooklyn Mexico. In Mexico City I was full of prior Mexicos, the Mexicos of my heart chorusing the visible Mexico of the city. Now you are there. You must have landed by now. And now I realize that yet another Mexico of mine is your journeys to Mexico, what I have sensed of it through your senses. Mexicos proliferate, all the way to the horizon. #ahistoryofsleep #_thehive"
tejucole  mexico  mexicocity  df  mexicodf  us  2015  2016 
february 2016 by robertogreco
Trespassers on the rooftops: a secret history of Mexico City's cultural revolutionaries | Cities | The Guardian
"In the 1920s, Mexico City’s roof spaces, or azoteas, became a laboratory for modernist creativity, offering a space where artists and thinkers could push the boundaries of culture and bridge the gaps in society, writes Valeria Luiselli"



"In the 1920s, Mexico City’s roof spaces, or azoteas, became a laboratory for modernist creativity, offering a space where artists and thinkers could push the boundaries of culture and bridge the gaps in society

[…]

The “rooftop bohemia”, in turn, did not always comply to the standards of the government’s plans and programmes – rooftops often engendered a poetics of transgression. Indeed, in the late 1920s and early 30s, during the period known as the “Maximato” – when Pascual Ortiz Rubio became president but, de facto, the authoritarian Plutarco Elías Calles controlled the government – many of these rooftop dwellers came to be seen not only as transgressive, but downright unwelcome in the country.

[…]

If we think of Mexico City in terms of its many horizontal layers – ground floor, first floor, second floor – then the layer that in the 1920s stretched out horizontally at about 15 metres above the ground, can be thought of as a kind of semi-invisible, experimental laboratory for modernist creativity and its shifting of moral parameters. The relative invisibility, both physical and cultural, of rooftop rooms allowed an alternative way of life and, concomitantly, a form of cultural production that pushed the boundaries of Mexican literary and visual culture.

Although the new azotea trespassers, these middle-class transplants to rooftop-dwelling, could not actually see each other from their respective rooftops, the fact that a group of diverse but to a degree like-minded people were living and producing work at that particular level, at that particular height of the cityscape, must have had an effect on how they all imagined their place in the city. Even if Modotti, Weston and Toor, Novo and Villaurrutia, Dr Atl and Ollin may not have always crossed ideological and aesthetic paths, they knew each other and of one another, and each knew that the other was playing out their daily life at a similar height, in similar spaces.

For minds that are habituated to thinking of living in terms of its possibilities of representation – narrative, poetic, pictorial, photographic – space is more than just the barren grounds in which daily life and daily work happen be. Thus, at least in a purely symbolic plane, these rooftop dwellers may well have imagined themselves as intermediaries, placed as bridges between the “inside” and the “outside” of the city. Their work – modernist journals, translation magazines, photographic or pictorial portraits, events depicted in abstracted photographs of the city below – responded to the condition of the liminal place they chose to inhabit, both physical and intellectual.

In this sense, rooftop-dwellers can be seen, too, as translators: bridging the gap between inside and outside, between the English and the Spanish-speaking world, between the Mexican indigenous population and the Mexican elite, between the local and the foreign. Whatever their own particular endeavours, together they played a part in the making of international modernism in Mexico."
mexico  mexicocity  mexicodf  rooftops  revolution  space  place  azoteas  creativity  art  thinking  freedom  liminality  liminalspaces  2015  valerialuiselli  edwardweston  tonamodotti  nahuiollin  francestoor  dratl  xaviervillarrutia  salvadornovo  transcression  poetry  poets  subversion  ulises  translation  df 
december 2015 by robertogreco
Martin Roemers - Metropolis | LensCulture
"Dutch photographer Martin Roemers won the 1st prize in the LensCulture Street Photography Awards 2015 for his series, Metropolis, which documents street life in "mega-cities", defined as urban areas that are home to more than 10 million inhabitants. Here we present an extended slideshow of this project, as well as an interview with the photographer."

[via: http://globalvoices.tumblr.com/post/133898896954/archatlas-metropolis-martin-roemers ]
martinroemers  photography  streetphotography  2015  cities  urban  urbanism  global  kolkata  lagos  pakistan  bangladesh  cairo  nigeria  egypt  karachi  dhaka  mumbai  india  guangzhou  china  istanbul  turkey  jakarta  indonesia  buenosaires  argentina  manila  philippines  basil  brazil  riodejaneiro  mexicocity  mexicodf  mexico  nyc  sãopaulo  london  tokyo  japan  df 
november 2015 by robertogreco
Una Vida Moderna | Vista de la terraza del jardín principal, Casa...
"Vista de la terraza del jardín principal, Casa Sotomayor, Paseo de la Reforma 320, Lomas de Chapultepec, Miguel Hidalgo, Mexico DF 1964

Arq. Manuel Gonzalez Rul

View of the terrace from the front garden, Casa Sotomayor, Paseo de la Reforma 320, Lomas de Chapultepec, Mexico City 1964"
modenism  architecture  design  mexico  mexicocity  mexicodf  manuelgonzálezrul  1964  homes  df 
april 2015 by robertogreco
Residential Archaeology – MAS CONTEXT
"The cultural phenomenon of customization, the appropriation of things to make them personal, has been the focus of study for years. We can see it daily in the objects that we transform and recycle, between efficiency and aesthetics. If we extrapolate this idea to the discipline of architecture, it becomes even more interesting, albeit of varying intensity: from the wallpaper to the added floor level and through various degrees of appropriation in between.

The approach of Modern Architecture, such as the universal space from the early 20th Century, becoming even more common in the 1950s in houses by Craig Elwood or Richard Neutra among others, has been transformed nowadays into the idea of neutral space, empty, ready to be occupied.

There are also curious examples such as the Appliance House and the Put-Away Villa by the couple formed by Peter and Alison Smithson. In the first one, architecture and household goods are the same, taking to the limit the idea that we are only passing through the spaces. Ideas such as comfort are taken to the extreme in the growing amount of advertising of autos and appliances.

From the industrialized architecture of those spaces we had to extract the particular aesthetic related to the prefabrication process. It is time for architects and manufacturers to address the problem from the opposite end of the scale and make buildings that emanate living habitats and reflect the needs of those who inhabit the spaces.

In the second example, a few years later and almost in opposition, the warehouse house, where we all collect, resulting in the need for a deposit, which requires the occupation of a third of the house: the place for objects-that-you-don’t-use-now-and-that-perhaps-won’t-be-used-anymore. Ultimately, it is the domestication of the spaces.

Let’s recall the performance “I Like America and America Likes Me” (1974) by Joseph Beuys. In it, Beuys is separated from his usual space in order to be placed in a single space along with a coyote, also separated from its natural habitat. Cohabitation and making the space human, space domesticated.

Finally we are generally talking about two things: first, how we get to the spaces and second, how we fill them and therefore, how we transform them.

We must pause and think, how do users (of different social class) personalize their spaces? What can we learn and understand from the materiality of life? Does this have anything to do with the materiality of the projects designed by architects and with any social commitment?

Le Corbusier, Mario Pani, Teodoro González de León, among others, have focused on the constructive materiality, in methods of self-construction or low-cost construction. But, what about the materiality of the everyday? What happens between the mere representation that the architect proposes and the everyday occupation by the resident?

Residential Archaeology consists, therefore, of:

1. Drawing in an archeological way three things: the space occupied by the architecture itself; the everyday life infrastructure, that is, furniture; and the elements that provide use to the furniture, those that humanize them.

2. Studying the impact in terms of occupancy, density and time. An archaeological GPS that subtly gets transformed by the passing of the hours and the collecting of objects, and sometimes their final destination. What we called earlier the objects-that-you-don’t-use-now-and-that-perhaps-won’t-be-used-anymore. How do they alter and reconfigure the space?

3. As a result, the project proposes the registration of these styles-modes-adjustments of life in an electronic file in order to observe their impact and make the design and use evident. Additionally, the project makes a 1:1 scale comparison of each unit: a rug-map, as if drawn by hand on the floor itself, recalling the images we have of when we did so as children on the street or sidewalk. It is, in the end, a recording as George Perec explains in Life A User’s Manual.

The project places the Unité d’habitation in Marseille, the Tlatelolco housing complex, the Mixcoac Towers, the CUPA and Unidad Esperanza under equal conditions, like it does with its authors: Le Corbusier, Mario Pani and Teodoro González de León. All are perhaps pieces of the same puzzle that builds and shows more faithfully what, perhaps, we should take more into account, how we domesticate the spaces.

Citing [furniture and interior designer] Clara Porset, “we could not impose the tenant to acquire the furniture that had been created specifically for his home, nor did we think about convincing him. Instead, we chose to instruct him about design in general, providing him with a culture of housing.”"
housing  architecture  archaeology  residentialarchaeology  tlatelolco  mixcoactowers  lecorbusier  mariopani  teodorogonzálezdeleón  space  everyday  infrastructure  furniture  juancarlostello  residential  cupa  mexicocity  mexico  marseille  france  customization  josephbeuys  humans  domestication  habitat  craigelwood  richardneutra  modernism  df  mexicodf 
march 2015 by robertogreco
Laboratorio Para La Ciudad
[via: http://thelongandshort.org/issues/season-two/techs-mex-a-labo-for-mexico-city.html ]

"El Laboratorio para la Ciudad es la nueva área experimental del Gobierno del Distrito Federal. El Laboratorio es un espacio de especulación y ensayo, donde lanzamos provocaciones que plantean nuevas formas de acercarse a temas relevantes para la ciudad, incubamos proyectos piloto y promovemos encuentros multidisciplinarios en torno a la innovación cívica y la creatividad urbana. El Laboratorio crea diálogos y complicidades entre gobierno, sociedad civil, iniciativa privada y organizaciones no gubernamentales con el propósito de reinventar, en conjunto, algunos territorios de ciudad y gobierno.

El Laboratorio reúne a personas de diferentes disciplinas y continuamente colabora con expertos nacionales e internacionales. Promueve de forma estratégica el capital creativo y el talento ciudadano de la Ciudad de México, vinculándolo con otras mentes e iniciativas brillantes en otras partes del mundo. En pocas palabras, el Laboratorio es un lugar híbrido y fluctuante, un vehículo experimental para materializar ideas y reimaginar, en conjunto, la ciudad (im)posible."

"El laboratorio para la ciudad es la nueva área
experimental del gobierno del distrito federal"
mexico  cities  urban  urbanism  mexicodf  mexicocity  lcproject  openstudioproject  interdisciplinary  multidisciplinary  crossdisciplinary  innovation  society  government  df 
december 2014 by robertogreco
The Avery Review | Air Nationalism: Norman Foster and Fernando Romero’s Mexico City Airport
"As air travel increasingly compresses our muscles and nerves—cue threats of thrombosis and incidents of passenger rage—airports expand their programs, taking up increasingly larger swaths of land. These programs, inflated by extensive security protocols and ambitious retail spaces, are usually arranged under sculptural canopies, like extra weight tucked under additional layers of clothing. Anthropologist Marc Augé famously described airports as “non-places,” generic spaces of transience that resist the rootedness of memory.1 However, the increase in border security has turned Augé’s description upside down. As the architecture that often constitutes a country’s first point of entry, airports are borders, and as such have become loaded with cultural and patriotic tropes. This nationalist anxiety hides the real politics of the expanded airport program.

A few weeks ago, the Mexican state unveiled the plans for a new airport to serve Mexico City, in the form of a digital video that was equal parts promotional rendering and documentary homage to the leader of the design team, Lord Norman Foster. The competition (which Alejandro Hernández has rightly criticized for its lack of transparency) paired famed international architects with local designers—the rationale, one has to assume, being that the Mexicans alone didn’t have sufficient experience in airport design. Foster’s Mexican complement is the young architect Fernando Romero—communication magnate Carlos Slim’s son-in-law. The need to include both a “local” representative and a big name from the world of architecture stardom has the further effect of directing attention away from the third but equally vital component of the team—the airport consultancy. In the winning team, this firm is Netherlands Airport Consultants (NACO), a Dutch firm with a long history of designing and supervising airports in Saudi Arabia. They describe their role as involved in “every aspect of airport design and development.” The delightful coincidence of their acronym “NACO”—a distinctively pejorative term for “unculturedness” in Mexican Spanish—doesn’t fully explain their almost occult presence in the project. The presence of their technical expertise runs counter to the video’s portrayal of Foster’s extensive experience with the airport typology (“the most highly qualified airport architect in the world”), and it reveals Foster’s participation as something other than that of the “outside expert.” The design team instead triangulates between global stardom, increasingly specialized technical expertise, and a questionably “local” avatar of Mexican identity. These multiple readings—purposefully sought by the Mexican state and enthusiastically illustrated in Foster’s competition submission—mark the building as yet another attempt to overcome the irreconcilable binary of local and global through a kind of architectural ambivalence."



"It is easy to criticize Norman Foster, Zaha Hadid, or any number of “starchitects” for their involvement or lack thereof in the processes and regimes with which they collaborate. But it’s more important, and more difficult, to take on these architects’ professed impotence. As program complexity increases, the figure of the consultant has pushed aside many of the roles that architects previously assumed. If we compare these architects’ secondary roles to that of Pani in Tlatelolco, we get a sense of how the discipline has been split between the form-making of the architect-artist and the programmatic management of the consultant. In this light, the program of the building is a conspicuous absence in Foster’s video. While the architectural membrane becomes loaded with a series of nationalist messages, its operational aspects are omitted. Architecture here is reduced to form on the outside and well-lit void on the inside. The architects are thus recast as form- and image-makers in search of the objective correlative of a globalized Mexican state. Or to say it more simply, they’re three-dimensional publicists.

In order for the global network of airports to function, their programs have become increasingly precise and standardized according to elaborate specifications. For the cosmopolitan traveler, increased security protocols seem to go hand in hand with expanded retail opportunities. This is where the real spatial politics of the airport program lie—in the entrails of corridors that sort us by immigration status, in the machines that scan our bodies and our belongings, in the long lines of human beings surrendering their dignity in exchange for the illusory promise of safety. It is telling that the bulk of airport retail is located between the two poles of security, the security check upon departure, and immigration control upon international arrival. Caught in this limbo, we are left free to wander through the world of duty-free shopping, international retail chains, and overpriced food—fear, assuaged by consumption. These spaces are absent from the architectural brief as described by Foster. The emphasis on nationalist tropes, from eagles to serpents, is a desperate populist appeal covering up the construction of a highly politicized space. This video invites us to join the architects in turning a blind eye to these realities."
anamaríaleón  airports  architecture  borders  border  mexicocity  mexicodf  mexico  design  retail  capitalism  neoliberalism  marcaugé  normanfoster  fernandoromero  arrival  departure  tlatelolco  zahahadid  df 
december 2014 by robertogreco
Library as Infrastructure
"For millennia libraries have acquired resources, organized them, preserved them and made them accessible (or not) to patrons. But the forms of those resources have changed — from scrolls and codices; to LPs and LaserDiscs; to e-books, electronic databases and open data sets. Libraries have had at least to comprehend, if not become a key node within, evolving systems of media production and distribution. Consider the medieval scriptoria where manuscripts were produced; the evolution of the publishing industry and book trade after Gutenberg; the rise of information technology and its webs of wires, protocols and regulations. 1 At every stage, the contexts — spatial, political, economic, cultural — in which libraries function have shifted; so they are continuously reinventing themselves and the means by which they provide those vital information services.

Libraries have also assumed a host of ever-changing social and symbolic functions. They have been expected to symbolize the eminence of a ruler or state, to integrally link “knowledge” and “power” — and, more recently, to serve as “community centers,” “public squares” or “think tanks.” Even those seemingly modern metaphors have deep histories. The ancient Library of Alexandria was a prototypical think tank, 2 and the early Carnegie buildings of the 1880s were community centers with swimming pools and public baths, bowling alleys, billiard rooms, even rifle ranges, as well as book stacks. 3 As the Carnegie funding program expanded internationally — to more than 2,500 libraries worldwide — secretary James Bertram standardized the design in his 1911 pamphlet “Notes on the Erection of Library Buildings,” which offered grantees a choice of six models, believed to be the work of architect Edward Tilton. Notably, they all included a lecture room.

In short, the library has always been a place where informational and social infrastructures intersect within a physical infrastructure that (ideally) supports that program.

Now we are seeing the rise of a new metaphor: the library as “platform” — a buzzy word that refers to a base upon which developers create new applications, technologies and processes. In an influential 2012 article in Library Journal, David Weinberger proposed that we think of libraries as “open platforms” — not only for the creation of software, but also for the development of knowledge and community. 4 Weinberger argued that libraries should open up their entire collections, all their metadata, and any technologies they’ve created, and allow anyone to build new products and services on top of that foundation. The platform model, he wrote, “focuses our attention away from the provisioning of resources to the foment” — the “messy, rich networks of people and ideas” — that “those resources engender.” Thus the ancient Library of Alexandria, part of a larger museum with botanical gardens, laboratories, living quarters and dining halls, was a platform not only for the translation and copying of myriad texts and the compilation of a magnificent collection, but also for the launch of works by Euclid, Archimedes, Eratosthenes and their peers."



"Partly because of their skill in reaching populations that others miss, libraries have recently reported record circulation and visitation, despite severe budget cuts, decreased hours and the threatened closure or sale of “underperforming” branches. 9 Meanwhile the Pew Research Center has released a series of studies about the materials and services Americans want their libraries to provide. Among the findings: 90 percent of respondents say the closure of their local public library would have an impact on their community, and 63 percent describe that impact as “major.”"



"Again, we need to look to the infrastructural ecology — the larger network of public services and knowledge institutions of which each library is a part. How might towns, cities and regions assess what their various public (and private) institutions are uniquely qualified and sufficiently resourced to do, and then deploy those resources most effectively? Should we regard the library as the territory of the civic mind and ask other social services to attend to the civic body? The assignment of social responsibility isn’t so black and white — nor are the boundaries between mind and body, cognition and affect — but libraries do need to collaborate with other institutions to determine how they leverage the resources of the infrastructural ecology to serve their publics, with each institution and organization contributing what it’s best equipped to contribute — and each operating with a clear sense of its mission and obligation."



"Libraries need to stay focused on their long-term cultural goals — which should hold true regardless of what Google decides to do tomorrow — and on their place within the larger infrastructural ecology. They also need to consider how their various infrastructural identities map onto each other, or don’t. Can an institution whose technical and physical infrastructure is governed by the pursuit of innovation also fulfill its obligations as a social infrastructure serving the disenfranchised? What ethics are embodied in the single-minded pursuit of “the latest” technologies, or the equation of learning with entrepreneurialism?

As Zadie Smith argued beautifully in the New York Review of Books, we risk losing the library’s role as a “different kind of social reality (of the three dimensional kind), which by its very existence teaches a system of values beyond the fiscal.” Barbara Fister, a librarian at Gustavus Adolphus College, offered an equally eloquent plea for the library as a space of exception:
Libraries are not, or at least should not be, engines of productivity. If anything, they should slow people down and seduce them with the unexpected, the irrelevant, the odd and the unexplainable. Productivity is a destructive way to justify the individual’s value in a system that is naturally communal, not an individualistic or entrepreneurial zero-sum game to be won by the most industrious.


Libraries, she argued, “will always be at a disadvantage” to Google and Amazon because they value privacy; they refuse to exploit users’ private data to improve the search experience. Yet libraries’ failure to compete in efficiency is what affords them the opportunity to offer a “different kind of social reality.” I’d venture that there is room for entrepreneurial learning in the library, but there also has to be room for that alternate reality where knowledge needn’t have monetary value, where learning isn’t driven by a profit motive. We can accommodate both spaces for entrepreneurship and spaces of exception, provided the institution has a strong epistemic framing that encompasses both. This means that the library needs to know how to read itself as a social-technical-intellectual infrastructure."



"In libraries like BiblioTech — and the Digital Public Library of America — the collection itself is off-site. Do patrons wonder where, exactly, all those books and periodicals and cloud-based materials live? What’s under, or floating above, the “platform”? Do they think about the algorithms that lead them to particular library materials, and the conduits and protocols through which they access them? Do they consider what it means to supplant bookstacks with server stacks — whose metal racks we can’t kick, lights we can’t adjust, knobs we can’t fiddle with? Do they think about the librarians negotiating access licenses and adding metadata to “digital assets,” or the engineers maintaining the servers? With the increasing recession of these technical infrastructures — and the human labor that supports them — further off-site, behind the interface, deeper inside the black box, how can we understand the ways in which those structures structure our intellect and sociality?

We need to develop — both among library patrons and librarians themselves — new critical capacities to understand the distributed physical, technical and social architectures that scaffold our institutions of knowledge and program our values. And we must consider where those infrastructures intersect — where they should be, and perhaps aren’t, mutually reinforcing one another. When do our social obligations compromise our intellectual aspirations, or vice versa? And when do those social or intellectual aspirations for the library exceed — or fail to fully exploit — the capacities of our architectural and technological infrastructures? Ultimately, we need to ensure that we have a strong epistemological framework — a narrative that explains how the library promotes learning and stewards knowledge — so that everything hangs together, so there’s some institutional coherence. We need to sync the library’s intersecting infrastructures so that they work together to support our shared intellectual and ethical goals."
shannonmattern  2014  libraries  infrastructure  access  accessibility  services  government  civics  librarians  information  ethics  community  makerspaces  privacy  safety  learning  openstudioproject  education  lcproject  zadiesmith  barbarafister  seattle  nyc  pittsburgh  culture  google  neoliberalism  knowledge  diversity  inequality  coworking  brooklyn  nypl  washingtondc  architecture  design  hackerlabs  hackerspaces  annebalsamo  technology  chicago  ncsu  books  mexicocity  mexicodf  davidadjaye  social  socialinfrastructure  ala  intellectualfreedom  freedom  democracy  publicgood  public  lifelonglearning  saltlakecity  marellusturner  partnerships  toyoito  refuge  cities  ericklinenberg  economics  amazon  disparity  mediaproduction  readwrite  melvildewey  df 
december 2014 by robertogreco
Relingos | The Brooklyn Quarterly
"Spaces survive the passage of time in the same way a person survives his death: in the close alliance between the memory and the imagination that others forge around it. They exist as long as we keep thinking of them, imagining in them; as long as we remember them, remember ourselves there, and, above all, as long as we remember what we imagined in them. A relingo—an emptiness, an absence—is a sort of depository for possibilities, a place that can be seized by the imagination and inhabited by our ­phantom-follies. Cities need those vacant lots, those silent gaps where the mind can wander freely."



"We Buy Old Books

Cities have often been compared to language: you can read a city, it’s said, as you read a book. But the metaphor can be inverted.

[painting of plan of Mexico City]

The journeys we make during the reading of a book trace out, in some way, the private spaces we inhabit. There are texts that will always be our dead-end streets; fragments that will be bridges; words that will be like the scaffolding that protects fragile constructions. T. S. Eliot: a plant growing in the debris of a ruined building; Salvador Novo: a tree-lined street transformed into an expressway; Tomás Segovia: a boulevard, a breath of air; Roberto Bolaño: a rooftop terrace; Isabel Allende: a (magically real) shopping mall; Gilles Deleuze: a summit; and Jacques Derrida: a pothole. Robert Walser: a chink in the wall, for looking through to the other side; Charles Baudelaire: a waiting room; Hannah Arendt: a tower, an Archimedean point; Martin Heidegger: a cul-de-sac; Walter ­Benjamin: a one-way street walked down against the flow.

And everything we haven’t read: relingos, absences in the heart of the city.

Guaranteed Repairs

Restoration: plastering over the cracks left on any surface by the erosion of time.
Sidewalks

Writing: an inverse process of restoration. A restorer fills the holes in a surface on which a more or less finished image already exists; a writer starts from the fissures and the holes. In this sense, an architect and a writer are alike. Writing: filling in relingos.

No, writing isn’t filling gaps—nor is it constructing a house, a building, just to fill up an empty space.

Perhaps Alejandro Zambra’s bonsai image might come closer: “A writer is a person who rubs out. . . . Cutting, lopping: finding a form that was already there.”

But words are not plants and, in any case, gardens are for the poets with orderly, landscaped hearts. Prose is for those with a builder’s spirit.

Writing: drilling walls, breaking windows, blowing up buildings. Deep excavations to find—to find what? To find nothing.

A writer is a person who distributes silences and empty spaces.

Writing: making relingos."
architecture  cities  design  spaces  space  commonplace  geography  relingos  mexicodf  df  mexico  valerialuisellu  writing  silence  via:alexismadrigal  alejandrozambra  restoration  robertobolaño  tomássegovia  gillesdeleuze  jacquesderrida  baudelaire  heidegger  hannaharendt  robertwalser  tseliot  slavadornono  walterbenjamin  emptiness  absence  possibility  possibilities  imagination  urban  urbanism  deleuze  mexicocity 
july 2014 by robertogreco
Nightmare in the Sky: Drugs via Drones - Robotics Business Review
"Anyone who can build a hobby aircraft successfully has all of the tools to ramp up the dimensions and integrate control technology to build a workable drone.

In the case of drug drones, the wings need to fold up so that it will fit in a semi-truck both before and after flight so that it can be serviced, reloaded and flown from another site.

It’s a lot easier and less expensive than running a drug submarine. You can build and operate two dozen drone aircraft for the price of one submarine. The swarm effect also makes it unlikely that more than one at most will be apprehended by American law enforcement at any one time.

The assembly line for narcotics drones is located in the Santa Fe District of Mexico City and near the Bombardier factory at Queretaro where aircraft factory workers can moonlight and double their money."
drones  droneproject  drugs  drugtrafficking  border  borders  querétaro  mexico  mexicodf  aircraft  airplanes  df  mexicocity 
may 2014 by robertogreco
Walls, floors, house numbers: In Mexico City, all surfaces are activated.: Observatory: Design Observer
"In Mexico, everyone seems to be Alexander Girard. Not afraid of color, of two colors together, of tiles and stripes, of patterns on pattern, of humble materials made noble by aggregation. The Loeb Fellowship took me to Mexico City for a week in February, and there I found the roots of Girard's "opulent modernism" still growing. Everywhere I looked — underfoot, on the walls, over the doors — something particular was happening. I understood why he had been so inspired to collect and reinterpret Mexican precedents; more importantly I also saw Mexican designers and everyday people reinterpreting for themselves. Design with a small "d" was everywhere, reflecting a culture that seems to understand the small gestures that make a room, a building, or a city special. A church in Queretaro with checkerboard floors, a neo-classical facade, and a golden altarpiece of many doors. A museum in Mexico City with real Mayan artifacts, reconstructed Aztec facades, red-and-purple upholstery, bowls floating on plexiglass mounts. Girard distilled the elements of Mexican style, transforming them into an American modernist idiom, but it is not as if Mexican modernists weren't doing the same. Architect Luis Barragran spotlit a golden angel with a perfectly placed skylight. Artist, architect, designer Mathias Goeritz remade the baroque icon as a simple gold-leaf square. Contemporary projects embed ceramic trees of life in Art Deco hallways, or echo the peacock circles of traditional decor in industrial spiral staircases. At the studios of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, lines of cacti march past Bauhaus silhouettes.

As I made my way through the city, primarily on a large red-white-and-blue bus, I tried to take note of these extraordinary planes, posting PicFrames of walls, floors, and other details that simultaneously clashed and sang. How dull the medium-width oak floors of my childhood began to seem. The brick walls of my Brooklyn neighborhood. The cookie-cutter house numbers from the hardware store. The white subway tile on backsplashes, wainscots, walk-in showers. Why do we do this to ourselves? In Mexico City, it felt like all surfaces were activated. Why not get an artist to paint a mural on the concrete slot between a building's wings? Why not park a bike up the green wall in your restaurant garden? Diana Vreeland's observations about Indian color style apply equally here, with yellow swapped in for pink, cobalt for navy blue.

Architects from the global north may revere Barragan for the subtle cast of pink on a white wall, but many won't go beyond blush themselves. His Mexico City house, and the villa he designed for the family Prieto, suggested that cobalt and coral, sunshine and flame, are easier to live with than you might think. Seeing so many examples of skillfully deployed color and pattern over a handful of days, examples high (Casa Barragan, below), low (turquoise apartment building foyer, top), sacred (three-tone cathedral floor), durable (two-tone rubber garden path) allowed me to understand the intense patterns I snapped not as a precious, professional choice but as part of a larger cultural valuation of the visual. What I loved was the too-muchness of it all, which felt like aesthetic freedom. My current housemates make fun of my desire for everyday bling, which manifests itself in plastic necklaces from Forever 21 and silver sneakers and metallic sweatshirts. I saw that blinginess everywhere in Mexico and it made me feel unexpectedly at home.

Pictures of the houses of Luis Barragan tend to focus on the colorful moments, as I have in the rainbow collages above and below. But the white walls, and the windows on to sky and garden, are equally important. Barragan isn't trying to overwhelm you (as Ricardo Legorreta does at the Camino Real), but to get you through the day, in the house, with a series of views that surprise and delight. In his own home, each room is shaped to a particular activity and time of day. The pink cross is built in over the door of his solo breakfast room, to offer a wordless blessing. The sunshiny Albers painting is set next to a two-story window, providing an alternative sun on a rare cloudy day. At Casa Prieto, a tree with flame-like flowers grows out of a rock in front of a coral wall, emphasizing its heat from the cool of the aqua pool. Contemporary architects can't help but pay homage. I visited the clever, elegant Lisboa 7, designed by at.103, and found those murals tucked into slots. There, the hot colors are reserved for the sunken garage, flashes of orange through a block wall, common storage in lime. Upstairs, the palette is paler, allowing residents to create their own Barragan moments, or not. In the apartment we visited, the walls were gray and the rainbow palette provided by a collection of California pottery. It was fun to recognize an old friend, transformed by geography into a different reference.

My last night in Mexico was spent at the home of a Mexican architect and an American recovering landscape architect. Mark, the latter, traveled to Mexico on a Fulbright some years ago and never came home. His decor seemed to me another entirely accessible version of the simple and baroque, minty and regal, combinations that I was seeing outside. The homemade cork boards stood in for the tricky, intricate ceramic Trees of Life, incorporating photos and other mementos. The white-painted floor offered the simplified backdrop of the neo-classical ceilings in many churches. A Crate & Barrel table kept company with hand-stitched pillow covers in patterns made since time immemorial. He even had a vase full of hand-blown glass balls, an inadvertant homage to the oversized bowl of such bubbles at Casa Prieto. Maybe this is a stretch, though it was a charming apartment. It was fun to see what happens to your taste when you fall in love with Mexico City now."
architecture  design  df  mexico  mexicodf  color  alexandralange  2014  everyday  texture  surface  detail  details  querétaro  alexandergirard  modernism  mathiasgoeritz  tiles  luisbarragán  ricardolegorreta  mexicocity 
march 2014 by robertogreco
The poetic architecture of Luis Barragán and Lina Bo Bardi - FT.com
"My house is my refuge,” wrote Luis Barragán; “an emotional piece of architecture, not a cold piece of convenience.”

A direct challenge to Le Corbusier’s contention that “a house is a machine for living in”, Barragán (1902-88) offered a poetic view of the home as a retreat. His highly individual house in Mexico City, built in 1948, is a minimal masterpiece and curiously monastic. He was intensely religious and an obsessive reader of theological and philosophical texts, and his house embraced layers of public-ness. Some rooms are expansive and generous; the most private ones small and spartan.

Inspired by north African houses, Barragán’s house presents a blank face to the street: just a solid white wall and a small door with a sliding panel – the kind of feature you might find at the entrance to a nunnery. Its entrance hall is modest but its combination of geometric simplicity, flush surfaces, rough plaster and a floor of dark volcanic stone offer an idea of a house luxurious in its attention to detail yet ascetic in its architecture.

There is, however, a flash of colour that draws the visitor in: a canary-yellow door leading to a bright pink room. Where Le Corbusier and his modernist contemporaries might have used the odd colour highlight – typically red, yellow or blue – Barragán was renowned for soaking his houses in bold, unforgettable colour.

Take his most photographed work, the San Cristóbal stables outside Mexico City. For its vivid blast of pinks and fuchsias set against the bright blue Mexican sky (and its reflection in the pool), the stables are a powerful Latin American riposte to the notion that modernism had to be anaemically white and allergic to colour.

A tour through Barragán’s house reveals layers in which the more public parts of the house are gradually stripped away to reveal the sparse rooms inhabited by the architect himself, and intended only for him. Each room features some nod to Christian art, ritual or iconography.
In the guest bedroom, a Madonna is placed not directly above the bed (Barragán was sensitive to those who might not share his beliefs) but to one side, her eyes turned towards her infant son – a Madonna not dominant yet still keeping an eye on the spiritual wellbeing of the guest.





The Casa de Vidro (Glass House) in São Paulo was built three years after Bárragan’s masterpiece. It too rebels against Le Corbusier’s concept of the house as a machine or as abstract sculpture – even if it is at least in part inspired by his use of concrete. But unlike Barragán’s insular, contempl­ative house, this is a dwelling that opens up to the landscape, that scoops up the surrounding rainforest and sucks it in. The Casa de Vidro was designed by Lina Bo Bardi (1914-92) for herself and her husband Pietro Maria Bardi, director of the São Paulo Museum of Art, not long after arriving in Brazil from their native Italy.

The site, which has now developed into the upmarket suburb of Morumbi, was in the middle of the rainforest. Even now, enough jungle remains on the hillside to remind people of the original wilderness.

Where Barragán’s house resolutely looks inwards, Bo Bardi’s looks out. Its living space is purely public, glazed all round, and the dining and living areas flow into each other. Like Barragán, Bo Bardi and her husband collected artworks – many of them profoundly Catholic images. Both architects consciously play with the juxtaposition of the emotional intensity of religious imagery and the asceticism of modernist architecture.

Bo Bardi thought Brazilian architecture should look to its indigenous past as well as to modernism. “Its source”, she wrote in a 1951 essay, “is not the architecture of the Jesuits: it comes from the wattle-and-daub shelter of the solitary man, laboriously constructed out of the materials of the forest; it comes from the house of the rubber-tapper, with its wooden floor and thatch roof.” Her house exhibits some of those fetishes and crafted objects that express that urge to make, alongside Catholic artefacts.

Yet her house never feels like an exhibition space; instead these pieces form a landscape of memory that stretches from Italy to Brazil. If there is a difference (beyond the obvious openness of the façades), it is in the sense of hierarchy between the private and the social, which is much less pronounced in Bo Bardi’s house. This feels like a house for company rather than contemplation.



Both houses, in their preoccupations with the delineations of public and private space, their concerns for transparency or opacity and their treatment of landscape or street, are very Latin American in spirit. Both depart from the more showy aspects of their contemporaries in Europe and North America, where houses were seemingly built as much for public consumption as they were for the client, and with the photographed image in mind. They are also among the most influential houses of the past century, their genius apparent in their constant rediscovery by each successive generation."
luisbarragán  linabobardi  design  architecture  mexico  2014  color  lecorbusier  modernism  brasil  mexicocity  mexicodf  sãopaulo  brazil  df 
march 2014 by robertogreco
Examining The New Los Angeles Paradigm: An Interview With Victor Jones | Los Angeles, I'm Yours
"Victor Jones thinks about Los Angeles in a way few people do: he thinks about it in the future tense, as a place of myriad possibilities. “Los Angeles, unlike most well known cities, is a twenty-first century paradigm in terms of its ability to inform how people live and what people do and how they experiences civic and public space. It is a new physical model of urbanity: I think Los Angeles is a fantastic case study.”

“Thats the draw here,” he says. “While perfect weather, a great economy, and geography have made life easy to take for granted my work in academia and design pushes back on the city, forcing people to reconsider the evidence of things not seen. This push back is to say—Hey.—let’s stop and revisit this, acknowledging that we are a part of a discussion, that we are not completely inside ourselves and that we are becoming a greater reference globally. When we look at urban development in Beijing, Dubai, Mexico City for example, Los Angeles has become a reference versus traditional nineteenth century cities. Let’s try to understand the physical implication of these things.”"



"The irony is that Victor is a native who never liked it here. “I always hated Los Angeles,” he explains. “I was always overwhelmed by the expanse and horizontality of the city and the lack of continuity. It wasn’t until I moved back from France and got my driver’s license that a whole new relationship with the city emerged.”

“I really didn’t get to know the city that I was born and raised in until my late thirties,” he adds. “That’s when I began to understand how special this place is.”

Victor had lived in Los Angeles from birth through late elementary school and high school. He attended Cal Poly San Louis Obispo for his undergraduate degree in Architecture and found the experience to be quite profound: it created opportunities to try different metropolitan settings. “My Architectural History professor, Dr. Joseph Burton, radically changed my life: he proposed that I moved to Paris after graduation to work,” Victor explains. “Initially, I was very resistant to the idea. But, what was supposed to be a three month internship ended up being twelve years living in Paris: that was a life changing experience. I never thought that I would end up back in Los Angeles! I completely found myself and found a completely different world order in France.”

Paris brought a lot of important things to his life: he met his partner of twenty five years, he worked for Jean Nouvel and Louis Vuitton, and took a break during his time there to get a graduate degree in Architecture from Harvard. After, he found himself back in Paris—but soon left to further his own practice. “We arrogantly thought our club membership to Paris would never expire,” he says. “There was a lot of discussion between my partner, Alain Fièvre and I on where to go and we decided that Los Angeles was the best place for an architectural practice, Fièvre + Jones. So, we came here in the late nineties. It is a very challenging experience to uproot our Parisian existence and move to the United States.”

“We do miss Europe quite a bit, though,” Victor says with a longing—but positive—undertone. “That’s what brought us to Silver Lake and to an office in Hollywood: we’re such urban creatures that we were looking for that simulacrum of urbanity in Los Angeles. Both Silver Lake and Hollywood have their own special version of that, Silver Lake being a bit of Brooklyn and Hollywood being a bit like every popular zone in every major city in the world. From certain angles, Hollywood may look like Times Square in the eighties and, from another it may look like Pigalle in Paris. It has a very special and unique quality to it.”

You could confuse his comparisons for nostalgia but analyzing Los Angeles in this manner is Victor’s job: he studies space, formed communities, and urban infrastructure to discover its flaws and successes. “My principal concentration at USC’s School Of Architecture is research on community based projects and understanding what that means in a post-racial culture. Rather than looking at community service as a direct response to under-served individuals or minorities, I look at how we as a more urban, global, and heterogenous community can construct a better quality of life.”"



"“There is a natural tendency to create villages for practical reasons. But, there is a beauty in having a passport to all neighborhoods. If you are of a certain curiosity, you’ll breach those boundaries, not letting your universe be defined by a street. But, [Angelenos] religiously stick to their boundaries. We have to question the curious way that infrastructures—like freeways—impact our lives, organizing us in as architect Craig Hodgetts says the mish-mosh we call Los Angeles.”

These views do not mean that Victor has a pessimistic view of Los Angeles. That is why he is so passionate about it changing for the better. Arguing for more opportunity for how people engage the city, he says, “Generally speaking, Angelenos tend to isolate themselves. They have a trajectory of work and home and their neighborhood. All due to limitations set by the city’s infrastructure – whether we are talking about public space, transportation, cultural institutions etc,” Some of my most fond memories of the city are from cinema and how ‘the industry’ illustrates the city. I remember in Pulp Fiction Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta would be in the Valley and then drive miles to another part of the city without any hesitation: the city in that film is a forest of pockets full of different opportunities. They were not restricted by cultural biases, distance, demographics – nothing stopped them from moving from one place to another."
victorjones  architecture  losangeles  2014  beijing  dubai  mexicocity  mexicodf  urban  urbanism  cities  race  community  diversity  integration  boundaries  borders  segregation  roads  freeways  michaelgovan  film  design  landscape  lacma  transportation  isolation  mobility  traffic  sustainability  craighodgetts  df 
march 2014 by robertogreco
Floating Lab Collective |
"The Floating Lab Collective is a group of artists working collaboratively on social research through public and media art projects in Washington DC, as well as nationally and internationally. They experiment with the aesthetics of direct action in crafting responses to specific places, communities, issues and circumstances. FLC artists move across visual art, performance, new media, and publications to engage and integrate such social topics as housing, the environment, migration, labor and urban mobility. One of FLC’s most important tools is a converted taco truck– a Floating Museum– that circulates projects among different neighborhoods, communities and regions.

Floating Lab Collective was started in 2007 in partnership with Provisions Library, an arts and social change research and development center at George Mason University. To date, over 50 groundbreaking community projects have been produced in the Baltimore-Washington Metropolitan Area, New York City, Mexico City, Detroit (MI), Louisville (KY), Medellin (Colombia) and Port of Spain (Trinidad). Through Provisions, FLC has been funded by The Creative Communities Initiative, The Nathan Cummings Foundation, The Virginia Museum, George Mason University and the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities."
art  openstudioproject  lcproject  activism  place  community  floatinglabcollective  floatingmuseum  newmedia  glvo  performance  action  projectideas  washingtondc  baltimore  nyc  mexicocity  mexicodf  portofspain  medellin  louisville  detroit  socialchange  medellín  dc  colombia  df 
october 2013 by robertogreco
Frieze Magazine | Archive | New Schools
"What would an art school fit for the 21st century look like? It’s become common to note that the last decade has seen a rise in pedagogic projects initiated by artists and curators. As Claire Bishop, among others, has argued, the cancellation in 2006 of Manifesta 6 – a failed attempt to set up an art school in Cyprus, and its afterlife as a series of seminars in Berlin – could be seen as the moment when this so-called educational turn became more pronounced. In the intervening years, countless self-organized night schools, free-to-attend lecture programmes and artist-run art academies have sprung up around the world. The reasons for this, though complex and interrelated, are frequently attributed to escalating tuition fees, cuts to university budgets, the creeping neoliberalization of education at large, frustration with overstretched tutors or inadequate teaching, not to mention a lack of academies in a given region.

There are, of course, important precedents for such projects, not least the activities of artists including Joseph Beuys, Luis Camnitzer, Lygia Clark and Tim Rollins, all of whom made pedagogy a central part of their work. This past decade, artist-led projects have taken forms as various as Khaled Hourani and Tina Sherwell’s International Academy of Art Palestine in Ramallah (2005–ongoing), Henriette Heise and Jakob Jakobsen’s Copenhagen Free University (2001–07) and Tania Bruguera’s Cátedra Arte de Conducta (Behaviour Art School, 2002–09) in Havana. In a more established art centre, like Los Angeles, a constellation of initiatives has emerged, such as Machine Project (2003–ongoing), Fritz Haeg’s ‘Sundown Salons’ (2001–06), and Piero Golia and Eric Wesley’s The Mountain School of Arts (2005–ongoing). Other schools are roving (like Pablo Helguera’s School of Panamerican Unrest, 2003–ongoing), studio-bound (such as Lia Perjovschi’s Centre for Art Analysis, in Bucharest) or, like Parallel School of Art or Gerald Raunig’s European Institute for Progressive Cultural Policies, exclusively online. As is clear from the names, one common thread is the claiming of institutional status (Gregory Sholette has used the terms ‘mockstitutions’ and ‘phantom establishments’), even though they remain, for the most part, unaffiliated with any traditional institution. What’s obvious is that many are eager for an art school today to be self-determined, flexible, small-scale and cheap or free to attend. This summer, the tendency found a temporary institutional home at London’s Hayward Gallery with ‘Wide Open School’, a month-long ‘experiment in public learning’ involving more than 100 artists.

I invited representatives from three artist-led education programmes, each of which was or will be launched this year, to contribute case studies about their projects: Los Angeles-based Sean Dockray, co-founder of The Public School and Telic Arts Exchange, discusses the background for The External Program, an online learning network based on a Victorian correspondence course; the Turkish artist Ahmet Öğüt introduces The Silent University, a multi-lingual, nomadic institution organized by asylum seekers and political refugees; and the London-based artist collective LuckyPDF interview students from their School of Global Art, a ‘peer-2-peer meshwork’ of learning, about debt and intellectual property. Additionally, I asked the founders of three artist-run art schools – SOMA in Mexico City, mass Alexandria, Egypt, and Islington Mill Art Academy in Salford, UK – to sketch out their influences and aims, as well as the competing ideologies and practicalities at play in the day-to-day running of a school.

Several shared preoccupations emerge: What are the possibilities of and limits to self-organized education? Who owns art education in what Tom Holert has called the ‘knowledge-based polis’? What can be borrowed from traditional academies, and what should be jettisoned? And what’s actually at stake with this self-institutionalizing impulse? In a 2009 lecture titled ‘The Academy is Back’, Dieter Lesage argued that: ‘The art academy is going to be the defining innovative institution within the art field in the next 20 years, much more so than museums, galleries, biennials, whatever.’ So, if we take this to be the case, what are the responses being developed by artists today?"

[via: http://blog.sfpc.io/post/57415533181/what-would-an-art-school-fit-for-the-21st-century ]
art  education  arteducation  openstudioproject  lcproject  2012  altgdp  soma  thesilentuniversity  lygiaclark  josephbeuys  luiscamnitzer  timrollins  theexternalprogram  massalexandria  islingtonmillartacademy  seandockraylosangeles  yoshuaokón  schoolofglobalart  mauricecarlin  laurenvelvick  samthorne  waelshawky  egypt  london  ahmetöğüt  luckypdf  katherinesullivan  mexico  mexicodf  seandockray  manifesta6  dieterlesage  2013  copenhagenfreeuniversity  pablohelguera  gregorysholette  wideopenschool  khaledhourani  tinasherwell  henrietteheise  jakobjakobsen  taniabruguera  havana  cuba  fritzhaeg  pierogolia  ericwesley  schoolofpanamericanunrest  losangeles  thepublicschool  telicartsexchange  tomholert  mountainschoolofarts  df  mexicocity 
august 2013 by robertogreco
Place Pulse | Mapping Urban Perception
"Place Pulse aims to quantitatively recognize which areas of a city are perceived as wealthy, modern, safe, lively, active, unique, central, adaptable or family friendly.

With enough user participation, Place Pulse can identify which neighborhoods in Bangkok are perceived better than neighborhoods in New York City or to examine how the distribution of a certain perception in Mexico City compares with that same perception in Tokyo.

For curious researchers, the Place Pulse dataset can even be used to study the association between urban perception and other datasets, such as violent crime, creativity or economic growth."
maps  mapping  urbanism  architecture  crowdsourcing  data  research  cities  place  placepulse  césarhidalgo  deepakjagdish  danielsmilkov  tokyo  nyc  mexicocity  mexicodf  bankok  streetview  googlesteetview  df 
july 2013 by robertogreco
LABORATORIO PARA LA CIUDAD
"El Laboratorio para la Ciudad (LabPLC) es el área de innovación cívica y creatividad urbana del Gobierno del Distrito Federal.

Generamos diálogos y complicidades entre gobierno, sociedad civil, iniciativa privada y organizaciones no gubernamentales para pensar y hacer ciudad en conjunto.

Es un espacio experimental de generación de ideas, incubación de proyectos y construcción de buenas prácticas. Leer más

Comparte tu idea o proyecto con el Laboratorio aquí."

[via: http://emmanuelquartey.com/ ]
mexico  mexicodf  df  urban  urbanism  openstudioproject  lcproject  cities  government  society  mexicocity 
july 2013 by robertogreco
Mobile Factory With Hope for a Better Life – Mexico City Journal - NYTimes.com
"Textiles had once been a hobby — she used to collect huipiles, the traditional woven tunics of Mexico and Central America — but when she decided to become an artist in 2006, she returned to cloth and sewing. Her work now involves a mixture of textiles and technology. Many of her pieces involve sewn images with circuits that let users push buttons for sounds or displays of light.

Completed works from the mobile maquiladora project, for example, will create the whine of an ambulance siren."
textiles  2012  amormuñoz  mexico  df  mexicodf  economics  minimumwage  pay  labor  maquiladoras  mobilemaquiladora  art  technology  society  activism  mexicocity 
january 2013 by robertogreco
Reading Around - Architecture - Domus
"Devised on board a Freightliner M2 20K lorry, a mobile library devised by Alumnos47 and PRODUCTORA uses whatever changes it finds in the city to create its stage, turning imagination into collective memory. An architecture report from Mexico City by María García Holley"
lcproject  alumnos47  design  architecture  2012  mobilelibrary  libraries  learning  education  mexicodf  df  mexico  library  mexicocity 
july 2012 by robertogreco
Mixtapes - Domus
[via http://danielperlin.net/?p=243 quoted here]

"I have been curating a series of mixtapes called Sound of the City for Domus Magazine. First online, it is now part of the print version as well.

The series is based on a simple principle. Pick a city. Pair a writer, designer or artist from that city with a dj or band from that city. Make a mixtape. All legal, all local, the task of meta curating is mine, and the fun parts come after you stick people together who might not normally hang out or work with each other. Cities featured so far have been Melbourne’s Architecture in Helsinki, New York’s dj /rupture and Sharifa Rhodes-Pitts, Buenos Aires’ Leandro Erlich and ZZK records, Mexico City’s Daniel Hernandez with some help from Toy Selectah and DJ N-RON."
danielperlin  df  mexicodf  mexico  nyc  harlem  buenosaires  beijing  telaviv  lasvegas  moscow  johannesburg  london  milan  melbourne  cities  mixtapes  domus  mexicocity 
january 2012 by robertogreco
WikiLane – How Citizens Built their own Bicycle Network | This Big City
"To promote that campaign and pressure legislators into action, several cycling and pedestrian organizations decided to paint their own bike lane in front of Congress on October 20th. This was our way of showing how little money and time is required to create quality infrastructure. We wanted to show that governments just need the will to promote non-motorized transport. However, that bike lane was efficiently erased just two days after it was painted, and no city official claimed responsibility."
cyclelanes  bikes  biking  2011  mexico  mexicodf  df  mexicocity 
november 2011 by robertogreco
Free Access to Mexico’s Soumaya Museum Comes at a Cost | This Big City
"This way of ‘making a city’ is the modern version of a gated community and segregation. As Mike Davis, in his article Fortress LA, points out: segregation is an indirect agreement between the high class & the planning norms—explicit or not. Of course, his case of study is LA where the divisions are different, but his point that gated communities are zones w/ a very low grade of permeability remains true.

It is important to note that socio-spatial segregation is the constitution of the territory based on the common feature of the society that occupied it. Also, that segregation can be positive when it is not related to urban problems, & negative when it is related to specific social problems. But let’s go back to the Soumaya, where I will place a paradox. Home to the second most important collection of Rodin’s work, w/ free entrance, facilities and services for different groups, can the Soumaya be considered a way to balance segregation, because everyone can access to it?"
soumayamuseum  mexico  mexicodf  carlosslim  losangeles  mikedavis  segregation  urbanvillages  gatedcommunities  permeability  socio-spacialsegregation  society  df  mexicocity 
september 2011 by robertogreco
Robot Flâneur: Exploring Google Street View
"Robot Flâneur is an explorer for Google Street View. Select a city to start exploring.

Follow the instructions or just go full screen for an urban screensaver of your choice."
photography  cities  urban  maps  mapping  jamesbridle  robotflaneur  london  sanfrancisco  manhattan  nyc  sãopaulo  paris  johannesburg  tokyo  mexicodf  df  berlin  exploration  screensavers  mexicocity 
june 2011 by robertogreco
Tacos at El Greco | Dig in Mexico
"El Greco seemed a bit confused to us at first. Their signature plate is “pan arabe” with “doneraky”. That translates to the taco filling, al pastor in pita bread, and no offense to pita, but why bother when you can have tortillas with your taco? Still, we learned a valuable lesson: don’t judge a doneraky stand by it’s eccentric bread options. Al pastor was adopted by lebanese immigrants and their shwarma, it’s layered pork roasting slowly on a spit and then thinly sliced off- in this case onto our homemade corn tortillas, accompanied by a layer of cheese, onions and cilantro. This combo of cheese and al pastor is often referred to as a “gringa”, which makes us like it even more.

So how does one find a good taco stand among the hundreds of taco stands in Mexico? Ask your bartender (that’s what we did). El Greco sits on a busy corner in the Condesa neighborhood of Mexico City, making it a perfect spot for post, pre, or in between drinks."
food  mexico  mexicodf  df  restaurants  mexicocity 
june 2011 by robertogreco
somamexico.org
"SOMA es un espacio para el arte contemporáneo que busca establecerse como contrapunto a la dinámica existente de escuelas, museos y galerías.

SOMA surge de la iniciativa de un conjunto de artistas que, aprovechando las experiencias de La Panadería, Temistocles 44 y otros espacios de artistas, han unido sus esfuerzos dando como resultado una plataforma única en el ámbito cultural.

SOMA consta de tres partes:

. Un sistema de residencias para artistas nacionales e internacionales.

. Un programa para la profesionalización de artistas.

. Un foro para conferencias, discusiones y eventos semanales

SOMA es una organización sin fines de lucro."
mexico  df  education  art  unschooling  deschooling  alternative  lcproject  mexicodf  soma  conferences  events  nonprofit  culture  contemporary  non-institutional  non-institutionalartschools  schools  machineproject  mexicocity  nonprofits 
december 2010 by robertogreco
Qué es alias | alias
"El propósito de Alias es la difusión de la obra y el pensamiento de autores particularmente significativos para el arte contemporáneo. Creaciones que, por razones y circunstancias difíciles de enumerar en este espacio, no han sido traducidas, impresas y difundidas en habla hispana; o bien, cuyas ediciones anteriores están descontinuadas o nunca han sido distribuidas en México.<br />
<br />
Alias es una editorial independiente sin fines de lucro económico."
art  mexico  mexicodf  publishing  books  damiánortega  contemporary  alias  df  mexicocity 
december 2010 by robertogreco
Frieze Magazine | Archive | Mexico City Report
"From new museums to project spaces and pop-up music events, nothing stands still in one of the largest cities in the Americas "

"Mexico City doesn’t feel alive so much as impossibly animated, scary in a way that you want to interact with rather than shy away from. D.F. is as much its bricks and mortar infrastructure and fantastically variegated architecture as the myriad ways people have of negotiating it. A hole-in-the-wall becomes a bar becomes an experimental music store, for a few hours once a month, or a penthouse gets repurposed as an ephemeral gallery."
mexico  mexicodf  art  glvo  museums  galleries  events  df  alias  damiánortega  soma  contemporary  music  popup  pop-ups  mexicocity 
december 2010 by robertogreco
suckerPUNCH » barrio de los paracaidistas
"anthony STAHL + david LEE: This tower is a frame-work for a new vertical city. Containing roadways, open plazas and parks; the nature and function of the ‘tower’ is to provide unlimited potential for new urban and vertical environment. By respecting the communal aspects of the city while allowing growth, this new urban frame-work challenges the frozen and static quality of current tower typology. The architecture within the tower develops over time, creating a dynamic composition of vertical neighborhoods that grow around and into one another. Sub-public and private spaces evolve organically, creating complex urban spaces similar to those of historic Mexico. The meaning of the tower is a living being that breathes in the city and is truly defined by Mexican culture and people."

[via: http://www.warrenellis.com/?p=10232 ]
architecture  design  barriodeparacaidistas  mexico  mexicodf  df  losangeles  lego  vertical  density  mexicocity 
august 2010 by robertogreco
Scribes Thriving As Ghostwriters In Mexico City - Sun Sentinel
"People have been coming for years to the public scribes of Santo Domingo Colonnade with the stuff of their lives -- love, disillusionment, longing and commerce.

In times gone by, the scribes brought out sharpened quills and ink to record the sentiments of Mexico City`s timid, illiterate or harried. More recently, they set up their typewriters.

Although the tools have changed, the scribes still reduce the dramas of life to paper with style and compassion for those unable to put their feelings into writing.

Since Spanish Colonial rule in the 1850s, about 25 scribes have been sheltered under a colonnade near Santo Domingo Church.

Hipolito Ortiz, who has practiced the trade for half his 50 years, said business is flourishing but is not what it used to be. The education level has risen in Mexico, meaning many lovers, children or businessmen can write their own missives. In addition, the telephone has opened the possiblility of direct communication."

[via: http://www.flickr.com/photos/readinginpublic/4603776421/ ]

[See also: “The disappearing tribe of India's letter writers”
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-26379747 ]
writing  mexicodf  mexico  history  recordkeeping  transcription  typewriters  writinginpublic  services  communication  memory  literacy  illiteracy  letters  letterwriting  df  mexicocity 
may 2010 by robertogreco
Wooster Collective: “Paredes que hablan” (Talking Walls) - An Introduction to 16 Street Artists in Latin America
"Produced by INJAUS for I SAT, “Paredes que hablan” (Talking Walls) its a series of sixteen short films showcasing street artist in three cities of Latin America: Sao Paulo, Buenos Aires and Mexico City,

Included in the series. From Brazil Boleta, Orion, Speto, Titi Freak, Nunca. From Argentina Gualicho, Nerf, Jaz, Pum Pum. From México Seher, Sego, Neuzz, Saner, Watchavato.
Here's the first set, from Sao Paulo:"
streetart  buenosaires  argentina  mexico  mexicodf  df  brasil  sãopaulo  brazil  mexicocity 
november 2009 by robertogreco
below the phreatic level - mammoth // building nothing out of something
"In 1998, Mexican architect Alberto Kalach and his colleague Teodoro Gonzalez de Leon published La Ciudad y sus Lagos, a bold proposal that examined the potential resurrection of Lake Texcoco, the largest of the lakes which Mexico City’s predecessor Tenochtitilan was founded on. The revitalization of the lake would serve to both benefit Mexico City ecologically and to invigorate the practice of urbanism in Mexico."
future  urban  landscape  mexico  water  lagotexcoco  df  albertokalach  mexicodf  mexicocity 
may 2009 by robertogreco
A translator's task – to disappear | csmonitor.com
""He was a geographically obsessed writer, especially when it came to Mexico City. He always told you exactly where he was going – down to the street, the intersection, the building," Wimmer remembers. "Café La Habana, for instance, was the basis for Café Quito," an important set piece in "The Savage Detectives." (The book, which traces the literary and political adventures of two ambitious poets, is partly autobiographical.)

"Being in the middle of that was very clarifying, and very useful," Wimmer says. "I found I understood the cultural references better, and had a closer sense of the vibrancy of the place. And that's what I wanted to capture. The book has such a quality of urgency and ease. So many other books I'd read felt willed, and this one didn't. It seemed essential.""
robertobolaño  mexico  mexicodf  place  location  translation  2666  literature  latinamerica  geography  literatura  cities  books  df  mexicocity 
january 2009 by robertogreco
Windows Into the Night
"Never one to proceed by half-measures, Roberto Bolaño dropped out of high school shortly after he decided to become a poet at age 15....Bolaño's own transformation began with a five-year period of isolation. Rather than join the party, he shut himself in his bedroom to consume book after book after book...the book that changed his life was Albert Camus's The Fall, in which a lawyer who hangs out at an Amsterdam bar named Mexico City resigns himself to a life of calculated hypocrisy. Bolaño explains in his essay "Who's the Brave One?" that after reading it, he was possessed by a desire "to read everything, which, in my simplicity, was the same as wanting to or intending to discover the mechanism of chance that had led Camus's character to accept his atrocious fate." ... Unlike many passionate young readers--who knock off two books a week when they're in high school but slow down to three or four a year once adulthood hems them in--Bolaño kept reading all his life."
robertobolaño  reading  youth  chile  mexico  mexicodf  books  literature  albertcamus  autodidacts  dropouts  unschooling  deschooling  self-directedlearning  camus  df  mexicocity 
december 2008 by robertogreco
Richard Florida and The Creative Class Exchange: Mexico City - Capital of the 21st Century?
"A new book (via Tyler Cowen). Here's a related website. What Manhattan was to the 20th century, the author argues, Mexico City will be to the 21st. It's a strong statement, but I believe he has a point."
mexico  richardflorida  books  tylercowen  future  mexicodf  urban  urbanism  latinamerica  culture  cities  df  mexicocity 
june 2008 by robertogreco
Mexico City pollution eroding residents’ sense of smell | csmonitor.com
"researcher at Mexico’s National Autonomous University in Mexico City and her team found that residents of the capital were less able to detect common odors like coffee and orange juice than those in a nearby town with low air pollution."
pollution  smell  senses  environment  mexico  mexicodf  food  df  mexicocity 
june 2008 by robertogreco
enRoute February 2008
"From Paris to Bogotá, urban spaces are undergoing a radical transformation with one thing in mind: your well-being...more time we spend on foot, on bikes or even on public transit, more we slow down, more we fuel this kind of social alchemy."
via:cityofsound  bikes  canada  cities  transportation  urban  urbanism  bogotá  colombia  paris  france  planning  well-being  creativity  design  psychology  lifestyle  mexico  mexicodf  qualityoflife  traffic  df  mexicocity 
march 2008 by robertogreco
dezeen » Blog Archive » Torre Bicentenario in Mexico City by OMA
"Office for Metropolitan Architecture has designed what will be the tallest tower in Latin America, to be built in the centre of Mexico City."
oma  amo  remkoolhaas  mexico  mexicodf  df  design  architecture  mexicocity 
july 2007 by robertogreco
Why you'll soon be avant-gardening | Reviews | Visual Arts | Arts | Telegraph
"Why you'll soon be avant-gardening Last Updated: 12:01am BST 16/06/2007 By 2030, two thirds of the world's population will live in cities. A new show at Tate Modern shows what their lives will be like."
cities  urban  urbanism  society  mexico  mexicodf  df  losangeles  brasil  sāopaulo  japan  tokyo  density  diversity  population  exhibits  london  india  china  sustainability  policy  politics  economics  architecture  art  events  photography  future  brazil  mexicocity 
june 2007 by robertogreco
Tate Modern | Current Exhibitions | Global Cities
"Global Cities looks at changes in the social and built forms of ten large, dynamic, international cities: Cairo, Istanbul, Johannesburg, London, Los Angeles, Mexico City, Mumbai, Sao Paulo, Shanghai and Tokyo."
cities  urban  urbanism  society  mexico  mexicodf  df  losangeles  brasil  sāopaulo  japan  tokyo  density  diversity  population  exhibits  london  india  china  sustainability  policy  politics  economics  architecture  art  events  photography  future  brazil  mexicocity 
june 2007 by robertogreco
Peripheral Landscapes
"In three great urban expansion zones in Mexico City, Arquitectura 911sc goes in search of a way in which formal and informal can complement each other."
informal  design  construction  cities  urban  growth  urbanism  formal  architecture  mexico  mexicodf  df  population  transformation  mexicocity 
june 2007 by robertogreco
Hecho in Mexico City - Travel - dwell.com
"Dwell enlisted a native who understands both the city’s past and its future: Hilario Galguera, an architect-turned–art dealer who opened his eponymous gallery in the San Rafael district last year, staging the first Damien Hirst exhibition in Latin Am
travel  mexico  mexicodf  df  americas  latinamerica  mexicocity 
june 2007 by robertogreco
Hotels Hostels Accommodation Reviews For Hotel Montecarlo Mexico City Mexico Lonely Planet
"A relic of a hotel in the very centre of town, the Montecarlo seems little altered since DH Lawrence and W Somerset Maugham resided there in the 1920s, and therein rests its elusive charm."
hotelmontecarlo  travel  mexico  df  mexicodf  literature  dhlawrence  mexicocity 
june 2007 by robertogreco
Vieja grandeza mexicana - René Avilés Fabila
"D. H. Lawrence, el novelista inglés que se enamoró de México tanto o más que Malcom Lowry o alguno de los miembros de la generación beat, quien se hospedó en República de Uruguay 69 en el Hotel Montecarlo"
mexico  df  hotelmontecarlo  travel  literature  mexicodf  dhlawrence  mexicocity 
june 2007 by robertogreco

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