lagunaries
Una laguna de libros descansa en el piso, un mar de tarjetas con instrucciones se desparraman y esperan a ser usadas ¿Qué es saber? Dos personas bailan por el espacio ¿Cuál es su archivo? Una se desplaza por el salón invitando a desorganizar la distribución de los cuerpos ¿Cómo se construye un saber colectivo? Hay lugar para el juego, el azar y todos los oráculos.
Al entrar, una sacerdotisa te regala un talismán como guía para atravesar esta collaborative performance ¿Qué necesitamos saber del otre para construir un hacer común, un afecto? How is collective knowledge built? Unas voces intervienen, invitando a escuchar la respiración ajena, a percibir la textura de la ropa pegada al cuerpo, a recorrer con la lengua cada rincón de la boca. ¿Cómo reinventar las formas de afecto y afectación? Un cuerpo se acerca a otro, abre un poemario (¿qué lengua/qué idioma?) y recita un fragmento en voz baja. Le entrega un papel con una invitación a hacer lo mismo.
Traducciones de traducciones ¿Cómo se construye lo común desde las prácticas artísticas? Una computadora con un documento compartido dispuesto a ser intervenido. ¿Qué repone la presencia? ¿Dónde existimos? Los cuerpos lectores son profetas y escribas. Un acercamiento, un ensamble de prácticas, una composición instantánea de cuerpos que se encuentran en el hacer ¿Cómo construir un saber desde nosotres sin intentar reponer el conocimiento hegemónico impuesto como saber? How is collective knowledge built? Knowledge is dancing. Iteraciones sobre intervenciones.
Las cosas que insisten las llevamos a la práctica, nos damos el tiempo, resonando los temas sobre los que escribimos después. Hacemos teoría conversando.
Pensar con otras, a través de otras, esa es la clave del grupo. Deshilachando las tramas del saber colectivo, trayéndolo acá, a la conversación presente. Despuntando aquellas cosas que insisten sobre los cuerpos, aquellas cosas que insisten fuertes en la experiencia de vivir, que vuelven y vuelve. Aquellas cosas entramadas en los afectos y las vidas de cada una. Dejando de lado la voz erudita del saber aislado y propiciando una voz densa.
Entre, siempre estamos pensando entre otras. Nos iluminamos con linternas y seguimos tejiendo la lana de la otra. Insistir como método, es el título del taller de una amiga, pero le podemos robar la frase porque nos representa y militamos la cita de la compañera, el flujo horizontal de las palabras.
La llave es la clave, abrir la puerta para ir a jugar, salirse por la tangente, rajar de la academia, todo (o nada) para construir, constituir, componer, ser, hacer una grupalidad. Ser una grupa clave, en cuál clave, un cónclave sin clave
La clave sin llave, no hay puerta pero si juegos que nos permiten siempre salirnos con la nuestra por la tangente, es todo, todo, todo, nunca nada, nada, nada. Reconstruir, instruir, destruir, instituir una grupalidad. Ser clave la grupa, grupalizar la clave, desclavijarse, desclavarse de la pared de la academia que nos permite desclavizarnos en espacios lagunaries de sensaciones.
Prácticas de cuidar, cuidar para ser grupo, para poder tejer. La grupa encuentra un tejido propio para adherirse a otros tejidos anteriores. No vienen por generación espontánea. La grupa se instituye a partir de la insistencia. Insistir hoy, mañana. Insistir hasta formar un encuentro. Hacer pequeños encuentros previos. Jugar e insistir. Tal vez la clave del grupo es que construye sus propias llaves. Arma sus propios tejidos. Se adhiere a otras superficies, lejos de las paredes.
El juego, la cancha, los jugadores, telepatía organizativa, micelio, los limones se van acomodando con el movimiento, genera milagros, sube la vara: querés que todos tus grupos vibren así. Amigas-compañeras, prácticas de cuidado, magia.
Jugadoras de cancha completa, oraculares y fungis, limonas y limadas en movimiento continuo, hacedoras de maravillas, apostando a todas las formas del azar, vibrando vínculos, practicando magia, cuidando los afectos, afectándose en el juego, revolcándose en la cancha, encontrándose en los sueños.
Pasame la pelota que sola no puedo jugar, los limones si es que no tenés una de trapo. La teoría como pelota o limón, pelando las capas de sentidos, mordiendo los gajos ácidos de humor y amor, vibrando en los pensamientos y los sueños. Si nos afectamos, ¿somos más o menos efectivas?
El limón te saca los humos del gas que oprime. Se instala en el paladar de la memoria y salva. Allí, cuando nos gasearon por querer que el mundo sea mundo para todos los mundos, allí el sentido nos salvó y allí seguramente nos unió. No nos vimos, nos percibimos y… hoy: ¿querés un gajo?
Grupo clave, la clave del grupo, nos abrimos y nos cerramos. Abrimos el espacio y conservamos una trastienda.
NO VAMOS A MOSTRARLO TODO, NO VAMOS A DECIRLO TODO, NO PODRÍAMOS, NO SABRÍAMOS CÓMO, LES ABURRIRÍA.
Las magas no comparten los trucos aunque te dejan tirar de los hilos, parte del misterio se susurra, repercute, aparece con las voces bajitas, que traman la magia de lo posible.
Una forma de estar presentes, una forma de manifestar incomodidades, un encuentro entre disciplinas desde el hacer mismo. Este key group es la insistencia en el encuentro. La llave que erotiza pantallas, hace estallar dedos y lenguas virtuales y a veces hasta nos encontramos en carne y hueso en cada lectura en voz alta, en cada cita.
Insistir en los dedos y las voces que erotizan pantallas y cuerpos y textos y lenguas de fuego que se encuentran a viva voz. Una cita con otres, entre otres, virtuales a veces, vibrantes siempre. Hacernos presente desde las incomodidades, a pesar de las incomodidades, con las incomodidades.
Se trata de investigar dinámicas grupales desde un abordaje no psicológico pero terapéutico, se trata de cómo nos ayudamos a vivir, tesoros de la pandemia, amigas en la tormenta, una terapia de sensibilización, la construcción del saber desde el afecto.
Una key para un grupo, darle la llave a un grupo equivale a darle la posibilidad de abrir. El grupo encuentra una llave y abre algo, seguro, mínimo, abre un espacio entre cosas que antes estaban cerradas, obturadas. Para abrir se necesita una clave, siempre la misma o va cambiando. Las claves se actualizan, se renuevan. Hay que ser primero un grupo.
Las llaves en el bolsillo, siempre a mano está la grupa, lista para el juego y la potencia del azar, el entramado de la grupalidad. Si hay algo que hacemos es no parar de abrir, tanto que no nos alcanza la memoria de google drive. Desbordamos de archivos, registros y datos, nunca sobran palabras. La clave de nuestro gmail ahora no la recuerdo, pero seguro alguno de nuestros ministerios está preparado, porque cada parte arma la trama.
Nos damos la llave, la llave la creamos, la imaginamos, la llave que abre el espacio, el juego. La llave a nuestres antepasades, a nuestras biografías. Abrimos los archivos, no para decirlo todo, no para saberlo todo, sino para entrar a la espesura de la trama. Abrirnos. Dar cuenta de nosotras en el hacer/sentir/pensar/decir/callar. Una llave para abrir y también para cerrar. Cerrarnos a un dar cuenta de sí en los términos del otre. Juntar leña en las miradas que nos fijan. Guardar siempre un secreto… para el grupo.
En el fragmento del tiempo, en el susurro de la noche, en el intersticio del grito, en el entre, en lo que ó es tiempo ó es espacio, en lo que no se captura, en… no hay estar, no hay ser, viene para irse, se presenta y desaparece…
A laguna of books lie on the floor, a sea of instruction cards is scattered, waiting to be used. What is knowing? Two people dance across a space. What is their archive? One moves around the room, inviting us to scramble the distribution of bodies. ¿Cómo se construye el saber colectivo? There is room for playing, for chance and for every single oracle.
As one enters, a priestess hands out a talisman to guide us through this collaborative performance. What do we need to know about the other in order to build a common doing-together, an affection? ¿Cómo se construye el saber colectivo? Voices intervene, inviting us to listen to the breathing of the other, to perceive the texture of the clothes clinging to our body, to explore every corner of our mouth with the tongue. How can we reinvent the forms of affection and affectation? One body approaches another, they open a poetry book (in what language/what tongue?) and recite a fragment in a low voice. They hand out a piece of paper with an invitation to do the same.
Translations of translations. How is the common constructed from an artistic practice? A computer with a shared document ready to for interventions. How do we re-place presence? Where do we exist? Reading bodies become prophets and scribes. An approach, an assemblage of practices, an instantaneous composition of bodies that meet each other in the doing. How do we build knowledge from our own selves without attempting to reinstate the hegemonic knowledge imposed as knowing? ¿Cómo se construye el saber colectivo? El conocimiento es una danza. Iterations upon interventions.
The things we insist on, we put into practice; we give ourselves time; we resonate with the issues that we later write about. We make theories through conversations.
Thinking with others, through others, that’s the key to the group. Unravelling the wefts of collective knowledge, bringing it here, to the present conversation. Unravelling those things insisting on the bodies, those things that insist strongly on the experience of living, that come back and comes back. Those things woven into the affections and lives of each one of us. Leaving aside the erudite voice of isolated knowledge and propitiating a dense voice.
In between, we are always thinking among others. We illuminate each other with lanterns and continue to weave the wool of the other. Insisting as a method is the title of a friend’s workshop, but we can steal the phrase from her because it represents us and we inhabit the compañera’s quote, the horizontal flow of words.
The key/llave is the key/clave, to open the door to play, to go off on a tangent, to run away from the academy, with everything (or nothing) to build, to constitute, to compose, to be, to make a groupness. To be a grupa clave, in which key, a conclave without a key.
The key/clave without a key/llave, there is no door but there are games that allow us to always get away with it, to go on a tangent, it is everything, everything, everything, never nothing, nothing, nothing. To rebuild, to instruct, to destroy, to institute a groupness. The grupa is key, to group the key, to become undone, to unhook oneself from the wall of Academia that allows us to unslaven ourselves in lagunarie spaces of sensations.
Practices of caring, caring in order to be a group, to be able to weave. The grupa finds its own fabric to adhere to previous fabrics. They do not appear by spontaneous generation. The grupa is instituted through insistence. To insist today, tomorrow. Insist until an encounter happens. Carry out small previous encounters. To play and to insist. Perhaps the key to the group is that it creates its own keys. It builds its own tissues. It sticks to other surfaces, away from the walls.
The game, the pitch, the players, organisational telepathy, mycelium, the lemons find their place in tune with the movement, it generates miracles, it raises the bar: you want all your groups to vibrate like this. Friends-companions, caring practices, magic.
Full-court players, oracular and fungus/fungis, she-lemons and limadas in continuous movement, she-makers of wonders, betting on all forms of chance, vibrating relationships, practising magic, caring for loved ones and affections, affecting each other in the game, rolling on the court, finding each other in dreams.
Pass me the ball, I can’t play alone, or the lemons if you don’t have a ragball. Theory as a ball or a lemon, peeling the layers of sense/sensations, biting the sour segments of humour and love, vibrating in thoughts and dreams. If we are affected, are we more or less effective?
Lemons take out the fumes of oppressing gases. It settles in the palate of memory and saves us. There, when they gassed us for wanting the world to be a world for all the worlds, there, the sense saved us and there it probably united us. We didn’t see each other, we perceived each other and… today: do you want a slice?
Key group, the key of the group, we open and close ourselves. We open the space and we keep a back room.
WE ARE NOT GOING TO SHOW EVERYTHING, WE ARE NOT GOING TO SAY EVERYTHING, WE COULDN’T, WE WOULDN’T KNOW HOW, IT WOULD BORE YOU.
The she-magicians don’t share their tricks although they let you pull the strings, part of the mystery is whispered, it reverberates, it appears with the low voices, which weave the magic of the possible.
A way of being present, a way of manifesting discomfort, an encounter between disciplines from the act itself. This key group is the insistence on the encounter. The key that eroticises screens, makes virtual fingers and tongues explode and sometimes we even find ourselves in the flesh in each reading out loud, in each quotation.
To insist on fingers and voices that eroticise screens and bodies and texts, and tongues of fire that meet out loud. An appointment with others, between others, sometimes virtual, always vibrant. To make ourselves present from the discomfort, despite the discomfort, with the discomfort.
It is about investigating group dynamics from a non-psychological but therapeutic approach, it is about how we help each other live, treasures of the pandemic, friends in the storm, a therapy of sensitisation, the construction of knowledge from affection.
A llave for a group, giving a key to a group is the same as giving it the chance to open something. The group finds a key/llave and opens something, safe, small, it opens a space between things that were previously closed, blocked. To open something, a key/clave is needed, always the same or it changes. Keys/claves are updated, renewed. You have to be a group first.
The keys in the pocket, the grupa is always at hand, ready for the game and the power of chance, the weaving of groupness. If there is one thing we do, it is to never stop opening, so much so that we run out of memory in google drive. We overflow with files, records and data, there are never too many words. I don’t remember the password/clave for our gmail, but surely one of our Ministries is ready, because each part makes up the fabric.
We give each other the key, we create the key, we imagine it, the key that opens the space, the game. The key to our ancestors, to our biographies. We open the archives, not to say everything, not to know everything, but to enter the density of the fabric. To open ourselves. To give an account of ourselves in doing/feeling/thinking/saying/silencing. A key to open and also to close. To close ourselves to an account of ourselves in terms of the other. Gathering firewood in the gazes that stare at us. To always keep a secret... for the group.
In the fragment of time, in the whisper of the night, in the interstice of the cry, in the in-between, in what is either time or space, in what is not captured, in... there is no being/estar, there is no being/ser, it comes to go away, it presents itself and disappears…
Lagunaries (b. 2020) is a collective/laboratory for rehearsals in movement. We were not united by love, but by horror: horror of normative pedagogy and disembodied theory. During an online seminar promising an alternative way of looking at theory and contemporary art, but that turned out to be linear and hierarchical, we got together as a collective to rehearse possible iterations of those theories and texts, but using our body, dance and personal genealogies. Our collective has only once met in person and has developed a distinctive series of exercises and mechanisms through which to explore the limits of our personal and collective journeys as artists, archivists, educators, dancers, choreographers, actors, students, and researchers. [email protected] // colectivolagunaries.hotglue.me
Dami Bacchiddu was born in Buenos Aires in 1992 and studied visual arts at the Leopoldo Marechal Art School, Musical Education at the Alberto Ginastera Music Conservatory and has a bachelor's degree in arts, a posgraduate degree on Contemporary Artistic Practices and a Diploma on Art and Education from the University of San Martin. Their artistic interests have focused on interdisciplinary and new approaches to printmaking, anthropological theatre and performance, prioritizing activism, educational and artistic approaches to their work.
María Eugenia Cairo lives and works in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Her artistic training includes an elementary piano teacher qualification, academic and independent studies of contemporary dance and visual arts, and a postgraduate degree in education. Her current research interests focus on artistic practice as a vital practice and on the collective as a way of socializing the vital and circulating affect. She is currently studying a Diploma in Contemporary Art, is a member of Lagunaries and a 24/7 mother. // @mariaeugenia_cairo // FB María Eugenia Cairo (Buenos Aires)
camila kevorkian. Artist, anarchivist, researcher and educator based in Mendoza. Since 2011 has been developing her personal practice through contemporary uses of visual archives and their relationship between care and affections and politics of nomadism as pedagogical practice and creative strategy. In 2020 she set up @trabajopractico, eLearning (inter)space on contemporary artistic practices and currently works in collaboration with IC Visual Lab developing “CRITICAL EYE. Visual Archives for Education”.
Belén Martínez Gibilisco was born in Tucumán, Argentina and works as a theatre director, playwright and actress. She trained at the Faculty of Arts of the Universidad Nacional de Tucumán (UNT), where she obtained her Professor’s Diploma in theatre and dramatic interpretation. Her work is oriented to documentary theatre, researching the tensions and limits between reality and fiction. She has worked in community theatre and non-formal artistic education throughout Tucumán since 2009.
Florencia Mazzadi Historian, art curator, and advisor in matters of public defense related to justice and race for migrant people in Argentina. Head of Center for Research on Film, Human Rights and Migration, Director of CineMigrante IFF, an annual interdisciplinary work programme, a space of convergence for artists, thinkers, curators, activists, and different organizations of the civil society focused on effecting and setting up dialogues with the society in general, aimed at the reconstruction of collective imageries. // Web: cinemigrante.org / IG: @cinemigrante / Fb: CineMigrante
Guiomar Peñafort, an Argentine-latinx artist, received her Professor’s Diploma in classical, jazz and contemporary dance in her native province of San Juan and studied cinema and television at the Universidad Nacional de Córdoba. She has developed a career as a musical theatre actor, dance teacher and audiovisual maker. She moved to Buenos Aires in 2008 where she worked at AFSCA, protecting audiences’ communication rights and since 2013 started to incorporate gender perspectives and cultural activism in her cultural practices.
Martina Prystupa is a dancer, creator, researcher and educator from Buenos Aires, Argentina. She has a BA in Performing Arts from Universidad Nacional de San Martín. She is particularly interested in movement research through dance improvisation and the relation between the perception of the global body and the environment (space and living matter). She has worked in dance, theatre, cinema and performance productions. As a teacher, she guides practices of conscious physical training and movement research.
Florencia Pumilla is an artist, educator and researcher, based in Santa Rosa, La Pampa, since 2009. She has a degree in Engraving and a Specialization in Performance Studies from the Universidad Nacional de Córdoba. She is a member of the "Bonus Track" research team investigating drifting as a methodological strategy. She also participates in other collectives and production and research groups in La Pampa, Córdoba and online, including Lagunaries.
Claudia Ricca is a researcher, artist, educator and local activist from Buenos Aires. She holds a degree in Anthropology from Trent University, Canada, an MA in Gender and Politics from the University of London and has worked for more than twenty years on environmental and human rights in Europe and Latin America. She has developed her research and artistic practices with other feminist artists and academics from a wide range of disciplines and has published several academic articles since 2017.
© 2022 lagunaries
Except where otherwise noted, this work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.