I’ve arrived to the point in my dissertation where I address a frequent question: “so, these architects are like a Chilean Bauhaus?” It’s an indirect way of saying, “relate your group to something established, something from Europe, something I know!” I get it, the unknown is terrifying. But I couldn’t live with myself as a Latin Americanist art historian if I didn’t try to pry you away from that life preserver. There are few life preservers in my dissertation and most of them have been relegated to footnotes. Like this one about the Bauhaus.
My dissertation has a new leading man. I had been sensing this shift for the past few weeks as I drifted farther away from Godofredo Iommi’s poetry and into the waiting arms of Alberto Cruz’s maps. Of course, I have always been about the maps. It’s just that Iommi has a consuming way about him; from his stint on television, to his captivating poetry, to his Homeric presence in photographs he is difficult to ignore. And today, after finding the most charming edition of his poems, I know I’ll never fully break away from him. Continue reading
I was winding down a four-hour library session yesterday when I accidentally found the first edition of Amereida I. Or to put it in the terms of the School of Valparaíso, the book irrupted into my presence. Curiosity led me to look at the shelf of other editions of Amereida I. Just as I was standing to leave I saw a book tucked into the gap between stacks. The cover was unlike anything I have ever seen from the School and it took me a while to make out the lettering. But once all the shapes came together, there it was: Amereida. Continue reading