Date: Thu, 16 Mar 2000 10:32:06 -0400
From: Yoe F. SANTOS <[email protected]>

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING IS A NON-EDITED AUTOMATIC TRANSLATION FROM SPANISH

Mud, candle and color. Apocryphal chronicle for an exhibition-symbol...

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"... the desmaterialización of the exchanges and the access to the remote administration, will allow that at some time, the distances among creators, managers, artisans and the State, straighten their roads finding in the integration of efforts the potion to survive, in the scenario of the cultures and societies more left behind by the impact of the technological change post cold war... making of the creativity the cement that coherencie the vocation exporter of the goods and cultural services, still from the micro, medium and small company... because the interdependences are not only geopolitical, but also in the hearts of the societies in transition... and their diverse social actors... arks beyond the jabber joint politiquera this the future of our countries..."

(yfs)

Yoe F. Santos

A long time ago since the experts of the social sciences designated the area of Higuerito Moca, as an unicidad location in the relative thing to the ancestral rescue - the before Columbus inheritance - of the work with the mud, tipificando the handmade products of that area, as the most important in the handmade system of the interior of Sacred Domingo's Island.

It doesn't make so much that the PNUD, organism of the system of United Nations specialized in topics and development projects, rushed to reproduce the tropical version of the micro and small Italian managers of the entreguerras and the post II World War, aided in the foreign currency of the groups of collective efficiency, as lifeboat in front of the global scenario and its threats, around the pervivencia of the exponents, artisans and managers, of the calls buried economies, informal ...escenario par excellence of those who don't have a ' padrino' of prestige in the formal banking, to make reality its projects of potentiality exporter.

The inventive one popular in their infinitud,tooks charge of the rest: to take for one night " Palafitos ", a bar inspired by the handmade tradition and the accumulated prestige of that area of artisans and creators and to put him the colors of the saxo of the Carlitos Estrada, the flavor to manigua of Fellé Vega and their tickets percutivos to the root of the earth and their to groan: the drum. There covered of expectant stars. There to the heat of the whispers of the mount, while Quique of the Rosario pulled up poetry of his ' factor 4 ', aided in the arpeggios of Rafaelito Mirabal and the keyboards. It was summoned to a pictorial sample and in fact we obtained five hours of gratuitous levitation, where the urban thing and the rural thing were braided in the only possibility of possible concretion: the solidarity.

The solidarity of poets, exciting cultural, the technical attendance of PNUD, mainly Angel paper Pichardo and the community of hands, of verses, perfumes, desires to make possible a bridge among knowledge, few times it feels to float in some living rooms with the force in that we perceive it recently.

The pictorial sample, where I sweep and figuration is manifested like in the dance, one against other, one on other, juxtaposing sense universes, tematizados in relation to the evocations of the historical center of our cities... you stamp hinged in wooden marks in clear allusion to the medieval and deep exploration of the extrapictorico, as symbol, entimeme and metaphor to feed the eye, thirsty of vastness, they were the final product of many weeks of effort and assembly... I imagine that Henry and the whole team of production of this bet for the plurality, if it is that they have been able to get up to the date... they will be satisfied and with them all the visionary ones that in a way or another has been sustaining that events, scenarios and projects of this type were realizable utopias in the last ones fifteen or twenty years.

What will it be after everything?

What will it be after everything?

When they are humidified the throats again beside the oven where the pieces emerge of he/she swims her, matéricas and extramatéricas, half seriously and half joking... boundaries where the eye, the liberated hand and the challenge of the times converge to try to seize and to make sustainable the tempo-space thing, recovering the epifanía of thousands of faces: mangled, barefoot feet escaping from their definitive encounter with the death, rituals around the fire and nights without moon, under the rain and their rage, hacedora of the seminal and sacred mud of the times...

The rescue of the technologies identitarias to communicate the today, the eclectic coalition in many cases of the times, not verbal, but historical, they take communion with the experience where today-here and now they intersect to leave us in the lips the sensation that we were for a while outside of the attic, of the ivory towers, of the scorn for the manual work, erecting the statue of a town that resists, on one hand to lose the memory and for the other one to repeat the roads of the exclusion of the big circuits of possibilities that open up, like challenge to the alteridad, in the daily recovery of the village planetary mcluhamniana...

"Mud, Candle and Color"...

it is perhaps an emblemática that, social lists and people that - before the mandatory opening of our cosmovisiones and economies -such a time never you importantizaron, neither they sat down in the table to converse on anything, or have more than enough almost anything, they are having to leave the comfort of the remote control, the armchair, the Kingdom of the domestic security and avalanzarse to look out, free of the signs of the success, the power or micropoder that each one of them represents amid a society that, in the rediscovery of the local thing, it is putting all the records at the eight black in the roulette of the chances of a history and a deeply smutty democracy of the local thing, like a possible goad-stick for the transcendency toward the humanity all ...la exporter risks you/he/she will demand from each one of us, to erase the pizarrón of that learned and to experience new combinatorias of that ignored ...en the sistematicidad of the method!!

Sea inside, sea out... /
tililar at dawn was surprised us, /
wet of memories, soaked in the fertile blood of the childhood /
built country to blows, /
while your hands slipped for the wooden wings of a black angel /
print prohibited in my meats and in my nights /
in the sleepless forge of those who have made of the collective dream, /
the necessary unconsciousness to recapture the voice of the drum, /
in the mire where I am the last breath /
the last of the slaves of these islands ...archipiélago of laughs and peace /
to build /
in the visillos innombrables the winged memory, /
sacred and without whips...

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Last modified:17/03/2000