By IASP. 

Confession time. I was drunk when I made it to the Artcrank fest, a wonderful collection of graphic art around biking. A thousand-dollar idea, you may ask. Don't get too excited. To set also an Octoberfest before the Artcrank event was like a trap for unconcerned travelers as me. I just wanted to enjoy some art without getting wasted! I cannot write a full recount of events of that day, but Coralette Damne's art is one of the few things I kept.

By IASP. 

Walking around, lying on the grass. The spoonbridge and cherry sculpture starring tonight as the finest piece of dessert. Dessert? How did a eccentric background for Instagram become Minneapolis' coat of arms? The silliest conceivable one. 

The size of the cherry and spoon makes me feel like Z, the worker ant in the also iconic movie of Woody Allen. From having a nice picnic at the sculpture garden to becoming an ant rejoiced with dinning food hundred times your size. Rejoice, rejoice. 

The spoonbridge and cherry sculpture evokes Louis XIV's dinning etiquette -according to an untraceable article cited by Wikipedia. The piece matches the goofy and silly vibe of Minneapolis, that's settled. The same community that likes to freeze jeans into sculptures to model them in hilarious positions every winter (if you haven't done it yet, please, be my guess). Further, in the winter season, this sculpture turns into a mouthful of ice cream sundae, one of the artists claims. I agree.

Some early designs involved a dragon shaped viking boat. That could have been badass, a viking boat at the side of the road, though, very boring. This idea was abandoned quite early. We like silly things and having the Walker Art Museum grants you a context of academic and post-modern art which desperately asks to be bullied. Having a cherry over a spoon is hilarious. I wonder who was the one rising the hand in the board meeting and said, "I feel more represented by a giant dessert than a viking boat." Calling this a 180-degree turn falls short. As a newcomer, passing by the spoonbridge and cherry sculpture brings me joy and sometimes a good laugh imagining myself as a little ant. 

 You can find the spoonbridge and cherry sculpture at the sculpture garden of Minneapolis, Minnesota. 

Oh, red cherry, my merry cherry, don't 

stop rolling. Fear of god, giant spoon 

Who ate the last cherry?

Being out of cherries, that's scary 

No cherry left to eat with my spoon.

By IASP. 

Revolts and uprisings brew at best with art. Creative engine, bewitching powerhouse. There is no revolution without poetry, we say in Chile. The 10/18 Chilean uprising prompted the recapture of public spaces as proposing alternatives to areas that were given and erroneously settled in stone. Our progenitors gifted us with the General Baquedano's monument. The revolt "politely" turned them down. Although half the country celebrates the removal of the statue while the rest weeps in agony, we reopened a forgotten venue of dialogue between Santiago and its residents. 

I cannot be but fascinated by the removal of the general Baquedano's monument resulting from the ongoing Chilean unrest that started in 2019. A tale, yes, a tale of this empty square that welcomes a debate of what should be raised in lieu of General Baquedano's monument. An opened space like an empty white page about to be colored. It's time for consciously rethink, rebuild, rethink, repeat, rebuild, discuss, rethink, and repeat. Our city is in bad shape. You can tell that by just looking at the consequences of two years of revolts and a year an half of COVID. I'm still optimistic of what the future will bring. We relearned to talk about our cornerstones; we dream with reshaping these spaces. Whatever is placed instead, it's a victory for us as a society.

To rethink our public spaces means to devote ourselves to our city in a reflective exercise. We reinvigorate our bonds with our surroundings. What purpose serve these cornerstones of Santiago or any place? Memory, story, and identity. The best monument brings something that shall never be forgotten. For instance, the ground zero in NYC reminds us of a ripped tragedy, but also a place were we can commute and grieve together. Public spaces embody this kind of power. Educational, sports, entertainment, trade, community building, etc. Hundreds, thousand of purposes. 

But General Baquedano is alone on his horse. Neither benefit nor goal to be achieved. Meaningless means timeless and also motionless in this case. In other words, this public space was dead. It's like almost dying twice, perhaps, by the time when the government grew tired to protect his legacy. Don't take me wrong, I grew up with heroic stories of the the Pacific war. Yet, General Baquedano felt like a tourist in the former Plaza Italia. He deserves better. Isolated from the very country that he chose to protect with his life. We can do better. Send him home but far from Italia or Dignidad square, whatsoever.

Certainly, there are some attractive proposals to replace general Baquedano's statue. My favorite is a monument to Gabriela Mistral, perhaps one of our most underrated poets to this day. To Gabriela Mistral, our first Nobel prize in poetry. An elementary and secondary teacher deeply involved in advancing the educational systems of Chile and Mexico until her poetry made her world-like famous (Let wind and salt and sand/ drive you crazy, mix you up/ so you can't tell/ East from West,/ or mother from child,/ like fish in the sea./ And on the day, at the hour,/ find only me.) A teacher who really embodies the republican values and the struggles of the middle class. A poet, who can lead a revolution and the changes that are needed so badly with hope and optimism. Whatever project we choose for our nation, we need some poetry on it.

 

What about Violeta Parra? Let's dream high. The sky is the limit. Chilean composer, world famous folk singer, and social activist, best known for traveling throughout Chile to record the breadth of Chilean folk music, but to really recapture the core of our folklore. Violeta Parra gave us a new soul. We owe her everything (Thanks to life, which has given me so much./ It gave me laughter and it gave me tears./ With them I distinguish happiness from pain./ The two elements that make up my song./ And your song, as well, which is the same song. And everyone's song, which is my very song.)

Perhaps having Violeta Parra at the center of Italia or Dignidad square (again whatsoever you may call it), a meeting point of the ongoing changes, can remind us that we can build something new and beautiful from our diverse population but always walking together, hand by hand. That's a monument that we need badly in these difficult times.

Whatever we choose for this empty public space waiting to be filled in, I hope it results from an endless dialogue with our society. A dialogue for the days to come.

By IASP.

It's like releasing a stream of emotion. Untold. To find an art style that strikes a chord in your heart. Sumi-e (traditional Japanese ink painting) is my first serious attempt to break into art as an adult, perhaps what led to this blog. Yet, creativity is boundless, wide open. To some degree, Susan Davies' work reminds that. 

By IASP. 

Once Upon a Crime. It's dinner time. A room packed with wealthy people. Tonight is the one we were waiting for. The host is serving this three-course meal. From glass to glass, the finest wine runs out as small talks become heated arguments just like bowling water. Then, lights off. Someone next to me screams amid the confusion, I guessed. When the light is finally back, the sight of a sharp knife stabbed on the back of the host's corpse shock us all. Yes, finally, everyone is satisfied for what we were craving for. Once Upon a Crime, the book shop specialized in mystery books located in Minneapolis, Minnesota.