The eyes of revolt. Objects, images and rebellions of memory
Within the "Latin American Critical Thought Notebooks" Collection, CLACSO presents "The Eyes of Revolt: Objects, Images, and Rebellions of Memory," coordinated by Clarisa López Galarza – Authors: Cecilia Lacruz, Andrea Forero Hurtado, Júlia Zuza, Natalia Aguerre, Clarisa López Galarza
The eyes of revolt. Objects, images and rebellions of memory
Coordination: Clarisa López Galarza
Authors: Cecilia Lacruz, Andrea Forero Hurtado,
Júlia Zuza, Natalia Aguerre, Clarisa López Galarza[1]
From June 9 to 12, 2025, the X Latin American and Caribbean Conference of Social Sciences was held in Bogotá, where our Working Group on Arts and Politics presented a series of activities that revolved around the presentation and reflection of artistic works of social collectives such as the testimonies of victims of the conflict in Colombia compiled by the Truth Commission; the experiences of intervention in the territories through the arts of the National University of the Arts (Argentina), The event included a panel discussion with rap/hip hop activists from Honduras, Colombia, and Mexico who discussed territorial issues and how to construct their narratives from a Latin American and Caribbean perspective; and an exhibition and discussion on urban art by the collective “Gráfica Dexpierte.” A series of meetings with researchers and artists were also held to discuss the imaginative expressions of the struggles, sensibilities, and, above all, the collective memory that Latin America and the Caribbean are building in these contexts of resistance against right-wing policies and administrations implemented in the countries of our region.
To revive and expand these debates, we present this collaboratively written document, which gathers experiences that connect diverse artistic languages and media, as well as different geographies. Through a range of experiences from Latin America and the Caribbean, we will focus on practices that not only address these issues as a subject of study, but also imagine and explore new ways of inhabiting the present and its relationship to history.
This set of interdisciplinary processes intersects political and poetic practices, seeking to problematize and modify the local state of affairs. Through archival fictions, interventions in public space, and performance and audiovisual practices, they emerge as new forms of socialization among subjects, experimenting with new modes of connection and collaboration (Laddaga, 2010). From a perspective that dissociates artistic practices from the production of objects and from operations inherited from modernity, they work with the production of images, events, and experiences as a substrate from which to reorganize interpersonal relationships, based on dynamics that value other modes and devices for narrating history in Latin America. We highlight their collectivizing features, insofar as they propose the construction of modes of social life that, starting from a certain state of affairs, pave the way for experimental communities in which to explore the complexities of social life in the present.
Uruguayan cinema and the daily struggles of people experiencing homelessness
In Uruguay, in a context where the media routinely addresses the issue of homelessness, it becomes relevant to examine new representations of the homeless population, as these shape a repertoire of shared perceptions that nourish the social imagination. Such is the case of the film Lord, if you exist, why don't you get me out of this hell? (2024) directed by Jorge Fierro, which tells, in the traditional style of cinéma vérité, the story of Juan “Chacho” Correa, a man living in a shelter whose life improves after the state assigns him a shipping container home. Chacho is Afro-Colombian and, among other things, plays in a candombe group. He gets the job he longed for, but is later fired. From time to time, he struggles with drug use.
The director and Chacho met in 2015 at the film workshops for homeless people that Fierro led at the Urban Cultural Center (Lacruz, 2025). In each workshop session, a story created and acted by the participants was filmed. Although Chacho was very shy at first, he soon became an active and beloved member. From the opening credits, Mister… It refers to this creative experience in an affectionate and conspiratorial way. Chacho introduces Fierro to his friends as "my film teacher, Jorgito." While the production team sets up a television in the street to show the short films starring Chacho, someone jokes, "From here to Hollywood." Like a playful prologue that foreshadows the multifaceted nature of the character, his friends celebrate his performances in a communal atmosphere.
Chacho is also an activist with Ni Todo Está Perdido (Not All Is Lost), Nitep, a collective formed in 2018 that fights for the rights of people experiencing homelessness. While not the central focus of the film's narrative, her activism is integrated into her daily life. In fact, both the recurring film workshop storyline and her political activism, among other things, create a strong counterpoint to the narrative that reduces the lives of homeless people to mere survival or to images centered on victimization.
The first scene introducing the collective depicts a meeting. Rubí, Chacho's friend, speaks up: “Today, I, a woman, instead of urinating behind a palm tree, a car, or going to the waterfront, have a public restroom that I didn't have before, because even McDonald's closed the door on me (…) That's a reality I experienced, and it's part of the work done by the Nitep Collective, which is why I have this benefit today.” The sequence continues with the participants coming and going, talking in a somewhat disorganized fashion. Later, in another nighttime scene, Chacho and Rubí take the stage representing Nitep. Again, Rubí, microphone in hand, addresses those present: “Ni Todo Está Perdido (Not All Is Lost) is a collective that fights for people experiencing homelessness: for their rights, for finding work, for daily food, and for shelter (…) Wherever you see people sleeping on the street, there's a collective fighting for them.” At the end of the sequence, when Chacho and Rubí return to the container homes, the film illustrates their camaraderie with fragments of the short films made in the Film Workshop, where, on more than one occasion, they portray a romantic relationship. Like the relationship between Fierro and Chacho that opens the film, these references to imagined stories highlight the dynamics of the Workshop and, through it, those of cultural spaces conceived as environments for concrete and lasting connections. In this overlap of the affective and the political, the film reveals that Chacho's activism is also nourished by networks of care and creative experiences that give meaning to the everyday.
In one sequence, the group organizes to go out and demonstrate. A flyer reads: “Day of the struggles of people experiencing homelessness. August 19th, Not one more death on the streets!”Chacho takes the floor to point out that on that day “we’re going to be saying what we need to say, our rights, the rights of the people on the street.” A young woman reads the statement that will be made at the protest. Her voice continues in voiceover over the image of Chacho, now asleep on a bus with his head resting against the window.
As a collective, we have managed to organize ourselves, produce, generate work, denounce our situations, mobilize, and make our voices heard in the media and at working groups with state authorities. (…) We need a society that shows compassion towards others. That is why we continue fighting, with our stomachs rumbling from insufficient food, for our rights, together, because collective struggle has power. (…)
Both the weariness and the melancholy that the journey evokes strain against the militant spirit of the proclamation, creating an ambiguous feeling, as if Chacho's perspective were constructing a complex, perhaps uncertain, meaning regarding that political "we." Between the epic of the struggle and the intimacy of exhaustion, the film portrays how activism doesn't erase the fragility of the lives that sustain it. In the scene following Chacho on the bus, the female voice we heard blends with that of a young woman who, now in the plaza, reads the final lines of the proclamation through a megaphone. The atmosphere becomes a celebration with the street performance by workshop participants (from dance, choir, and theater) who join the demonstration. Suddenly, in the middle of an artistic performance, Chacho sees himself in a mirror, and the scene falls silent. The absence of sound inserts an unexpected moment of intimacy, an introspective pause amidst the collective effervescence that, with its uncertainty, curbs a romantic view of politics.
The film raises questions about emerging activism surrounding homelessness and calls for considering these narratives in dialogue with other regional contexts, recognizing similarities, differences, and shared horizons of representation. In the Uruguayan case, Nitep has communicated its demands through media, social networks, and its YouTube channel, where short films and testimonials circulate (Aguiar et al., 2022). These productions have introduced novel forms of representation compared to the traditional approach to homelessness. Within this framework, Mister… It complicates the image of that militancy by not showing it as a permanent heroic state, but as a process traversed by fragilities and contradictions that also shape common political action.
Collective Memory in Community Theatre Narratives
Community Theatre[2] In Colombia, theatrical theater has become a crucial element in the reconstruction of social memory and cultural transformation in territories affected by poverty, violence, and exclusion. This practice is based on the active participation of community members, who create narratives that reflect their experiences and strengthen their identity, transforming them into theatrical works that they often perform themselves.
These impactful narratives are fundamental because of their power to inspire and mobilize. They are characterized by active participation and collective creation, as Augusto Boal (1974) points out, and by reflecting reality and giving voice to marginalized communities, as Paulo Freire (1970) indicates. Community theater employs mechanisms for the recovery and reconstruction of collective memory, such as the following:
- Recovery and interpretation of the past:
The creative process of theater serves to unearth and reinterpret memories historically silenced or rendered invisible in official narratives. By presenting these experiences from the living perspective of those who lived them, theater activates collective memory, giving it voice and meaning. This recovery is not a documentary exercise, but a symbolic reconstruction that generates impactful narratives that provoke emotions, reflections, and actions, reaffirming the importance of preserving and valuing community memory (Fisher, 1984). This is what the Mojiganga Collective (Quibdó-Chocó) does.[3], who, for example, based on direct accounts from victims of the conflict, create montages that not only recall the painful past, but also invite resilience and imagine future horizons based on reparation and justice.
- Collective creation and generational dialogue:
Through collaborative dramaturgy, theater creates vibrant spaces for encounter where different generations exchange memories, reinterpret their history, and consolidate a collective fabric of memory. This dialogue ensures that foundational events and past wounds are not forgotten, keeping the community's historical memory alive. Active participation, a key point highlighted by Boal (1974), transforms the community into the protagonist of its own narrative, strengthening the recognition of its identity and the transmission of its memory over time. An example of this is the El Totumo Encantado group (Necoclí, Antioquia).[4] which develops research with older people and intergenerational transmission, guaranteeing the rigor and authenticity of the assemblies.
- Community theatre training:
Training plays a fundamental role not only in the constant renewal of the repertoire, but also in the continuity and sustainability of community processes (Idartes en Casa, 2015). Community training programs, especially in working-class neighborhoods and vulnerable areas, become what could be called schools of collective memorywhere communities not only learn performance techniques, but also tools to express their stories, pain, and hopes. In marginalized urban neighborhoods or rural communities, groups like Teatro Esquina Latina[5] (Cali-Valle) have developed pedagogical processes that promote popular education, the formation of life projects and the integral development of young people in adverse contexts.
- The circulation of groups:
Festivals and gatherings are fundamental for preserving collective memory, allowing the stories of vulnerable communities to be shared and exchanged. They preserve and reinterpret historical memories, activating collective memory and emotional identification. Furthermore, these gatherings foster participation and visibility, motivating communities to tell their stories. This is exemplified by the Colombian Network of Community Theater, which demonstrates an intergroup collaboration that promotes exchange, collective reflection, and even influences public policy.
- Linkage with social processes:
The staging and visibility of issues in Community Theater not only recover memories but also foster citizen participation and collective empowerment. In this sense, impactful narratives fulfill a dual role: in addition to preserving historical memory, they are instruments for mobilizing communities toward social action and political organization. Marshall Ganz (2009) emphasizes that these narratives inspire and motivate, ensuring that memory does not remain static but becomes a driving force for social transformation and the construction of possible futures.
Thus, these mechanisms, in addition to rescuing memory, configure it into a dynamic, participatory and transformative resource that strengthens identities and promotes social changes, inspiring communities to participate in building a better future.
Community Theatre works are therefore living archives that, through participation and collective creation, preserve memories threatened by violence and contribute to the production of meaning, critical reflection and questioning of power structures, thus allowing communities to narrate their stories, reflect on their past and project a better future.
The archive, memory and the fight against barbarism
Rereading official archives not only allows us to look at the past, but also to strengthen our commitment to a more democratic future. In Latin American countries with a strong colonial past, institutional images reveal their racist bias against Black and Indigenous people. If the archive is a device of power, since “the archive is not a collection of data, but a status" (Mbembe, 2002), what can we do about it?
Visual artists interrogate archives using strategies such as critical fabrication (Hartman, 2020), which tests the limits of the archive itself. Examples include the Brazilian artists Aline Motta and Rosana Paulino, two Black women who combine family and official archives to discuss the consequences of racism and slavery in society. In this way, we see that the archive is neither static nor fixed and can be reinterpreted according to the nuances of different erasures; a way to challenge the erasures of history.
I begin with the works of visual artist Aline Motta (Niterói, 1974), an artist who works with several languages and is developing a trilogy about her own family's Black diaspora. In the work Bridges over abysses [Bridges Over Abysses] (2017), we see a video installation triggered by a family secret, as Motta narrates in the work. The grandmother reveals to her granddaughter, the artist in question, that she had never met her father, who was the white son of her mother's employers—Aline Motta's Black great-grandmother. From this starting point, the artist imagines, recreates, and fabricates her family's origins, tracing a map that encompasses Rio de Janeiro, Portugal, and Sierra Leone.
The work features several printed photographs of the artist's family members, with a particular focus on her grandmothers, floating on fabric in a generational encounter: we see the image of Motta's grandmother and herself bathing in the waters of Sierra Leone, their ancestral homeland. This gesture suggests the possibility of connecting lost, murdered, or silenced people and memories within the diaspora, a theme Motta explores by casting images of her family onto the water. It represents something so common among the Afro-Brazilian population, a group that for centuries has resisted the constant threat to its history.
Following the theme of revisiting family archives and historical contexts, we arrive at the artist and researcher Rosana Paulino (São Paulo, 1967), who develops her work using techniques such as collage and sewing, applying them to debates about the colonial legacy in contemporary experience. I will briefly discuss her work. memory wall (Wall of Memory) (1994/2015). Composed of 11 mini-portraits of his family, the images are printed on fabric and sewn together as small cushions. Originally in black and white, some of the photos were later colorized and recombined in different ways, and the size of the panel, which consists of 1500 photographs, was also varied. Every detail of each portrait is visible, allowing viewers to imagine the story of each person depicted.
The small cushions on which the photographs are printed are shaped like patuás, which are good luck charms in Candomblé and Umbanda. Paulino makes us think that his personal story in the 11 portraits and 1500 images that refer to a collective memory are elements that guide and protect us; each life lost on the slave ship, each enslaved person of the diaspora who managed to survive, each Black person who currently resists institutional violence can be considered a sign of good fortune.
The recreation of personal archives in the works of Motta and Paulino approaches critical fabulation, understood by Sayidia Hartman (2020) as the attempt to develop an imaginative reconstruction of experiences erased or manipulated by official records. More than an aesthetic strategy, critical fabulation can be considered a tool against the systematic erasure of populations, such as Afro-diasporic and Indigenous communities. The artists do not undertake an exercise in recovering and recreating their origins, lost due to slavery, but rather they rethink them; they create fabulations based on their own genealogy and family archives, attempting to trace points of connection within the Black diaspora.
The visual metaphors created by Motta and Paulino reveal how hegemonic history can obscure so many other experiences, often subjugated by highly oppressive structures, such as the colonial and racial issues in Brazil. Their works possess a dual nature, existing on the border between historical record, compiled from an archive, and creation, evident in the visual mechanisms they employ (photographs, textiles). Thus, the two artists highlight the hierarchy of archives and point to diverse possible avenues of critique, raising public awareness of issues that remain relevant in Latin America.
CLas Hartas collective: a “witness” look through three armed “skins” projects
Artivist performance practices in the Las Hartas Collective are examined through the use of the metaphor of the “armed body” as a poetic-political strategy in three projects: Armed Women (2020) Following Pancha's trail (2021) and The Holy Fighter: matriarch of those of us who fight in the streets (2022). For this purpose, the term “skin” is used as a basic symbolic embodiment device for the generation of counter-archives, where other narratives can be proposed in relation to the original archives, in the images and actions produced in each of the performances, as a possible response to gender violence and the invisibility of women in “official” narratives.
I
The Las Hartas Collective is a Costa Rican feminist artivism and artistic research group comprised of Micaela Canales Barquero, Andrea Gómez Jiménez, Grettel Méndez Ramírez, and Mariela Richmond Vargas. Our experience working together in the performing arts allowed us to discover shared interests, coupled with our inclination towards political, feminist, and street performance.
Three of the “skins”[6] The most significant ones we have inhabited have been: Armed Women, the Panchas y The Luchonas. Through these groups, we have carried out street actions during the marches for International Women's Day (8M) and the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women (25N), between 2020 and 2025. This includes participation in social protests such as the Great National March.[7] (2023) during the current government of Rodrigo Chaves.
To Armed WomenWe took as a reference point the research that Mariela Richmond had been developing on weapons as symbolic objects, which in turn invited us to explore some avenues based on her research. We created a “small army” of four armed women in the street during the March 8th march (2020). “Skin” emerges from the reinterpretation of national imaginaries, in relation to how the “peasant” woman has been represented in folklore. We generated a collective image using “traditional” dress, but armed with rifles, wristbands, leather boots, and combative gestures. With this image, we participated in two group exhibitions. Retelling ourselves (2020)[8], and Rewriting us (2022) with an archive photo taken by Karla Orozco[9]Exhibitions curated by the Guatemalan feminist collective La Revuelta.
In 2021, we received an invitation from curator Maya Juracán to explore the historical figure of Francisca Carrasco Jiménez, known as PCarrasco wide, a benefactor of the nation and heroine of the national campaign of 1856-57. From the artistic research, the project arises: Following Pancha's trail, as part of the exhibition: Emancipated and Emancipating Women: The Women of Central American Independence[10], along with other Central American artists, who in turn addressed other historical women, within the framework of the Bicentennial celebration.
Our proposal included a series of 7 photo performances, an audio piece: the corrido-slam de Pancha and installation of objects. Our strategy was to generate an alternative visual narrative, based on the activation of historical archives, images, as well as working from spaces linked to the heroine, through parodic strategies, exercises in fabulation, where we allowed ourselves to tell her story as we would have liked it to be told.
As in Armed WomenWe propose a group of four Panchas ArmadasThese scenes are reflected in collective moments, such as the four heroines, and the collective decoration based on the medal that appears in her most famous portrait, painted by Manuel Zuniga, as an exercise in recognition among women. There are also iconic scenes such as: la capture of the cannon, and the stone throwingOther images were a critical dialogue based on situations of violence suffered by her, as well as the poverty in which she lived in her last years, alluding to the meager and late pension she received.
Finally, with the “skin” of the FightersWe embodied the image of four female boxers, wearing boxing attire, placed in a new ring: the street. We participated in an artistic residency in the space Satisfactory[11]managed by Erika Martin. For a month we reviewed part of our collective archives, which allowed us to identify some lines of action we had been working on. Based on explorations with some archival objects (“relics”) from the skin of the FighterThe figure of The Holy FighterDepicted in our “image and likeness,” with a red robe, gloves, braided hair, and boots. A syncretic, popular, and feminist saint, who embodies our struggle in the streets and in everyday spaces.
Around this figure, we generated the project of The Holy Fighter: matriarch of those of us who fight in the streets, with which we participated in the MADC[12] Between October and November 2022, we presented an installation and performance proposal. Among the most significant actions, for the closing of the exhibition, we carried out an open performance during the 25N march, which we called Carnival Procession of the Holy Fighter, where we carry the saint on a litter with the collaboration of 40 women and three collectives of women musicians[13].
So much the Holy Fighter in their installation proposal as PanchaThey were reactivated in 2025 as part of a collective exhibition called: We are seas, rivers, flowers, minerals, volcanoes, mountains and compost, Curated by Maya Juracán, Emilia Yang and Ana Laguna, managed by the UNFES collective[14], which is a group of Central American artists, in production with MADC-CR.
II
Women's bodies constitute one of our arenas of struggle. Faced with the perception of insecurity, the rise in femicides, and the systematic violence against women's bodies, the metaphor of the "armed body" remains a powerful image of resistance and a form of symbolic, poetic, and political representation.
From our practice, we have generated a series of moving images and actions that seek to avoid glorifying violence through the (re)presentation of a body carrying a weapon. As Natalia Solano Meza states regarding Women Armed“They actually seem to operate or want to operate as a counter-response to violence, specifically gender violence. This seems very interesting, as it suggests the existence of many layers of meaning” (Solano, Meza, 2020).
In this exercise of alternative representation, we do not intend to present verbatim quotes from the original archives, from which we generate these images of “armed bodies” in our performances. Our interest is not in working with the idea of a “historical truth,” but rather in establishing critical narratives that engage with our present through the activation of archives, whether by creating versions, parodies, counter-archives, resignifications, etc. As Antivilo Peña (2015) argues, the reactivation of archives in the work of feminist artists and artivists is not only about rescuing old documents, but about making them productive through different means, generating new resignifications that engage with the present.
We conclude this brief journey by expressing our gratitude and acknowledging that this embodied writing is thanks to the collaborative work with my sisters, Las Hartas. It's a project driven by the desire from which we collectively inhabit our "skins." Because we work better together than alone.
Highlighted
Aguiar, Sebastián; Cardozo, Dulcinea; Ciapessoni, Fiorella; Etchebehere, Cecilia; Ferreira, Walter; Guevara, Alejandro; González Echaniz, Martín; González, Tacuabé; Lans, Sofía; Leopold, Sandra; Matonte, Cecilia; Montealegr, Natalila; Pérez, Leticia; Rossal, Marcelo; Sarachu, Gerardo and Laura Zapata (2022). “Of Encounters, Conflicts and Resistance. Reflections on the Relationship between the Collective Not All Is Lost (Nitep) and the University of the Republic”, in Cecilia Etchebehere, Florencia Ferrigno, Laura Zapata (coord), Social Sciences and University Extension: Contributions to the DebateMontevideo. 195-214.
Antivilo Peña, Julia (2015). Rebellions are woven between the sacred and the profane: Latin American feminist art. Editions from below.
Boal, Augusto (1974). Theatre of the Oppressed.La Flor Editions.
Spanish Cultural Center-Lima. (2019). Emancipated and emancipators. The women of independence. https://ccelima.org/evento/emancipadas-y-emancipadoras/
Las Hartas Collective (2021). Following Pancha's trail [Photo performance, audio and objects]. Spanish Cultural Center.
Fisher, Walter. (1984). Narration as a Human Communication Paradigm: The Case of Public Moral Argument. Communication Monographs, 51(1), 1–22.
Freire, P. (1970). The Pedagogy of the Oppressed. 21st Century Publishers.
Ganz, Marshall. (2009). Why David Sometimes Wins: Leadership, Organization, and Strategy in the California Farm Worker Movement.Oxford University Press.
Hartman, Saidyia. (2020). Venus in two years. Eco-Post Magazine, 23(3), 12-33
Idartes at Home. (2015). Community Theatre of Bogotá 2010-2015Secretariat of Culture, Recreation and Sport, Bogotá.
Juaracán, Maya (2021). Exhibition within the framework of the feminist artistic practices circuit. http://ccecr.org/evento/emancipadas-y-emancipadoras/
La Revoltosa (2022). Retelling ourselves: an exhibition of women artists from Central America. Artishock, HTTPS://ARTISHOCKREVISTA.COM/2022/05/18/RECONTARNOS-ARTISTAS-MUJERES-CENTROAMERICA/
Lacruz, Cecilia (2025). “Film workshop with people experiencing homelessness”, July 27, Reasons and peoplehttps://www.razonesypersonas.com/2025/07/taller-de-cine-con-personas-en.html
Laddaga, R. (2010). Aesthetics of Emergence. Buenos Aires: Adriana Hidalgo Editora.
Mbembe, Achile. (2002). The Power of the Archive and its Limits. in Refiguring the archive (pp. 19-27). Dordrecht: Springer Netherlands.
Solano Meza, Natalia (Presenter). (2020, May 29). Fierce, not violent (6) [Audio podcast episode]. Architecture: Theories and Histories. https://open.spotify.com/episode/1deZLRde4mREiEE2nVw6nR
[1] Members of the CLACSO Working Group on Art and Politics, coordinated by Natalia Aguerre, Hans Stange and Andrea Forero.
[2] This writing is derived from the doctoral research in Communication at the University of La Plata, on the "Colombian Community Theatre as a space for communication strategies for Social Change" and refers to some of the groups addressed there to exemplify what is proposed.
[3] The Mojiganga Collective, located in Quibdó, Chocó, is a community-based artistic group. Chocó is one of the departments most affected by armed conflict and inequality in Colombia, with almost all the illegal armed groups vying for territorial control.
[4] The El Totumo Encantado Collective, located in the El Totumo district of Necoclí, Antioquia, carries out its artistic and cultural work in a territory characterized by isolation, limited infrastructure, and profound social problems linked to poverty and armed conflict. Furthermore, in recent years it has assumed a central role in complex migration dynamics, with a high volume of people flowing in and social consequences impacting the local population.
[5] The Esquina Latina Theater Group is a prominent cultural organization in Cali, Colombia, founded in 1973 by students from the University of Valle. What began as an extracurricular initiative among friends interested in acting has become one of the country's most important theater companies, recognized for its artistic trajectory and social commitment.
[6] We define the concept of skin as: “something we put on and take off; we construct it, reconstruct it, hack it from existing imaginaries and resignify them” (Méndez, 2024, 140). This concept had already been used in the scene to refer to various states of embodied presence in the body of the performer-interpreter.
[7] https://crhoy.com/colectivo-las-hartas-marchan-para-exigir-mayor-seguridad-para-las-mujeres
[8] https://artishockrevista.com/2022/05/18/recontarnos-artistas-women-centralamerica/
[9] During the 8M march, photographer Karla Orozco was documenting the march and captured a moment of the Hartas pointing at the camera, as a kind of photo performance. on-site. This photographed action later became a piece.
[10] Emancipated and Emancipating Women: https://ccecr.org/evento/emancipadas-y-emancipadoras/
[11] Satisfactory It is an independent art and design space located in Barrio Escalante, San José, Costa Rica, run by curator and cultural manager Erika Martin. This space supports and encourages artistic production, and offers residencies and opportunities for artists working in the visual and performing arts.
[12] Museum of Contemporary Art and Design.
[13] We were accompanied by feminist musical groups such as: Toca el Tambó, Retumba and Chicas al Frente
[14] Union of Feminists Creating New Systems (UNFES). Link to expo info:https://www.madc.cr/index.php/es/expo/unfes-somos-mares-rios-flores-minerales-volcanes-montanas-y-compost
