Showing posts with label Andrew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andrew. Show all posts

Sunday, November 7, 2021

Avila, Andrew (Claudia Zapata, & Salam)

 In reading Claudia Zapata’s ChicanX Graphics in the Digital Age, a few assertions are made. First, Zapata asserts that ChicanX artists have “actively participated in each technological paradigm shift”, which in turn “lay the foundation for a new lens of ChicanX study”. What Zapata means by this, is that ChicanX artists have been at the forefront of each of the revolutions of artistic production; chief among these the digital revolution which began in the 1980’s. However, where some find fault with Zapata’s claim in that they exists as notions of erasure, she further asserts that ChicanX participation in the revolutions of artistic production largely exist as modes of offering “new visualizations of political resistance”. Zapata asserts that these new visualizations are based on the model that new ChicanX art forms are incorporated into new forms of art and representation and that “each new medium is never an addition to an old one, and instead never ceases to oppress the older medium until new shapes and positions are established for them”. In this way, Zapata asserts that ChicanX artists have existed at the forefront of each technological paradigm shift, and goes on to explain the means by which ChicanX artists in the digital age “define new visual practices to reveal injustice, [work to] create a more inclusive history of digital art, and expand the definition of graphic arts” for generations to come. 





While I found Zapata’s article informative, and relevant within the context of the digital age of graphic arts, there was one particular work that stood out to me. Xico Gonzalez’s collection of augmented reality portraits titled the Revoltosxs Series, specifically the individual portrait titled Salam, really stood out to me. The Revoltosxs Series, is a culmination of augmented reality portraits supported by HP’s Reveal app, which allows users to interact with these portraits on a multi-media interface. The app works by first allowing users to set up ‘trigger points’ or destinations in the physical world where the portraits are set up. From here, HP Reveal users are able to scan the portraits where they are met with a video narrative explaining the work, and its underlying contexts. Users are also able to view and interact with the artist’s individual profile. This is important because each artist's profile “spans the geographical” and includes a range of different activists and video narratives for users to interact with. Salam’s video narrative activist is Saeeda Islam (Mexican, Pakistani, Muslim activist), who discusses “how her multiple identities are under attack; the beauty of the Islamic faith, and her efforts to connect those around her by emphasizing Islam as a religion of love” in relation to Gonzalez’s portrait Salam. Other video narrative activists that can be found on the interface include Lakota leader Tatanka Iyotake (Sitting Bull), Marsha P. Johnson (transgender activist), and Filipino American labor activist Larry Itliong. 

Tuesday, October 19, 2021

Avila, Andrew

    According to Frausto, rasquachismo is neither defined as a style or idea, but that of taste. It’s interesting to note that Frausto elaborates as to the stance of rasquachismo not pertaining to Chicano communities, but being alive within them. He explains its a visceral response, an intellectual cognition that exists within each of us. It's also interesting to note that Frausto iterates that rasquachismo is largely a view from los de abajo, or those from beneath, the ‘underdogs’. While this is true, it’s quite contrasting that one never considered themselves as rasquache but always someone of lower status, as if there is always someone else of lower status. 

    The funny thing is I can recall instances in my life where my Mom did things I didn’t really think were rasquachismo, or rasquache simply because they made sense to me. For instance when we were young and we went grocery shopping, my Mom always had us save the bags from groceries, and she would repurpose them in all these different ways. Even when we got older and shopped on our own, each of us would always give the plastic bags we received at checkout to our mother. If they were plastic, they often found their way into one of the small trash cans my Mother had in each restroom. Other times they were reused to tote objects from place to place, usually when we needed to bring something to a family gathering. If they were paper, which they seldom were when I was growing up, they were often used to cover our books for school. My father also had his share of rasquachismo

practices as well. If we ever finished a jar of jam, salsa, pickles, or olives the jar was always washed and reused to store miscellaneous items in the garage. I can recall old jars filled with nails, and old coffee tins that housed ‘extra parts’ among the tools and practical things that we stored in the garage. Yet, as a kid these things didn't seem
rasquache, they simply seemed normal, they seemed practical, even if some of my friends didn't do the same things at home. I think that's why Frausto was accurate when he said rasquachismo is a taste. It's an evolving state determined by the individual in the moment, meaning something can be rasquachismo once or multiple times. Now that I’m older and I’m on my own away at college, I find myself following the examples of rasquachismo my parents modeled. Even though I have reusable bags to take to the grocery store, I often find myself buying an extra bag or two so I can reuse them in the small trash cans we have in my apartment. As an artist I also reuse old jars, and old shoe boxes to store items like pencils, charcoals, and pastels.