El origen de esta idea Matriz pertenece a Alejandro Alasevic y Jaime Linconao
Photographic installation by Bastián Cifuentes @periodistafurioso . This is the result of a photographic report in which the author explores the background stories of those who wear a hood over their faces to protest on the streets.
Among the main arguments of the hooded demonstrators are the protection of their identity, their integrity, and their families, as well as to prevent retaliation for their actions at their jobs. They protect themselves from an oppressive system because they cannot protest freely in an allegedly democratic country. Finally, each hood is altered by its users who give them a glimpse of their identity to foreground its artistic and political struggle.
There is an element in this installation that invites us to actively be part of it: a mirror. It is the same size as the photographs of the installation so that anyone can stand in front of it and say “I also wear a hood to fight”.
Sculpture that honours a black stray dog named “cop-killer” by the students who led the student protests back in 2011 asking for free and quality education.
The sculpture was originally created by the visual artist Marcel Solá @marcelsolaart , who built it out of recycled debris from protests. It was first installed on 15 November 2019 outside Salvador Metro station, in response to the Political Peace Agreement reached by the Parliament to appease the social revolt.
The sculpture was attacked several times. It was attacked with clubs, painted over, and it was even burned down by right-wing extremists on 27 November, leaving only its metallic internal structure intact. The structure was then spontaneously filled with flowers and green leaves by hundreds of people.
After it was burned down, Solá asked two renowned artists from Patio de Arte @patiodearte , Fernando de Calisto and Jaime Torres to work on a more solid and durable metallic layer from the original structure. This is how the sculpture has continued to be present in different regions and cities, becoming a symbol of the social revolt.
The stray dog represents Chileans’ own mixed-race origins. Strays abound our streets and they represent the endurance to survive abandonment, abuse, indifference, and discrimination, an analogy to the conditions of Chilean society. This is why the sculpture has resonated and strengthened this sense of belonging among so many people.
The sculpture was subject to further attacks afterwards: it was dragged in the streets tied to an SUV and burned a second time. Here it is showing its scars in the museum, as a result of embodying the social demands and the social justice sought by the Chilean people.
A set of totems made by Colectivo Originario, a wood carving workshop led by Machupe sculptor Antonio Paillafil.
Each of these protective totems represent a specific territory in the country, illustrating their Amerindian culture: Petroglif, a Diaguita shaman from Tilama; Domomamüll, or wooden woman in Mapudungun, shows a chemamüll Mapuche sculpture; and the Selk´Nam Spirit, the incarnation of the peoples from Tierra del Fuego. Their purpose was to make indigenous peoples visible and to promote the creation of a plurinational state to grant them sovereignty.
The first sculpture –which still has visible marks of having been burned– portrays the shaman from Tilama, based on the Diaguita petroglyph in the north (Norte Chico). The totem is composed of three main elements: its head represents the Sun deity Inti, its heart represents a spiritual portal, and its abdomen represents a flower, a symbol of fertility.
Domomamüll –domo: woman; and mamüll: wood– represents the feminine essence, which links nature and farming. Its meaning foregrounds the symbolic essence of the feminine and its strength. It is this energy that connects us with Nature and allows us to live harmoniously in it; it helps us to be reborn, create meaningful familial bonds, and become better people. That is the symbolism that matters.
The Selk’Nam Spirit is not an indigenous totem, but it was included as a way to represent the people from the furthest south and to visualize the genocide they were subjected to. They belong to the history we cannot forget, and the sculpture challenges us not to deny the past and to honour and acknowledge our origins, practices that must be present in our education.
These sculptures were installed and remained at Plaza Dignidad for many months. They were the epicentre of various rogations and encounters to vindicate the role of our indigenous communities.
