alvos desde sempre
porque não hegemônicos
corpos reclassificados
incômodos
inconformes
marginais seculares
preto
feminino
não-binário
trans
intersexual
refugiado
positivo
imigrado
expulso
indígena
.
sacrificado
.
Mas em movimento!
.
Body Work and conception: Alberto Pereira Jr. @albertopereirajr
Body Art: DIG Ferreira @digferreira
Images: Flavio Melgarejo @ffmelgarejo
See also, by Alberto Pereira Jr:
[*Bruno Mendonça e Felipe Caprestano – Terra Falsa (parte do projeto “Nenhuma Intenção Revolucionária”)]
O uso da palavra vírus para além do campo das ciências biológicas teve início a partir da década de 1980 com o desenvolvimento da cultura hacker, assim como ao longo da mesma década foi sendo assumido por outras áreas.
Essa passagem conceitual de um objeto estudado pela área das ciências
biológicas para outras disciplinas corresponde de forma bastante direta ao que os linguistas George Lakoff e Mark Johnson irão abordar como “metáfora conceitual”, ou seja, a atualização cognitiva de uma ideia. Essa atualização corresponde também a uma atualização cultural, social e político-econômica que ressignifica uma palavra, expressão ou conceito para dar conta de um novo contexto.
Neste sentido a palavra vírus vem para dar conta de uma série de movimentos que estavam acontecendo na passagem do final da década de 1970 para o início da década de 1980. Neste momento, o mundo passava por um processo de sofisticação do capitalismo envolto a uma nova realidade tecnocrática, comunicacional e midiática gerando mudanças culturais significativas. O surgimento do vírus do HIV neste período, talvez seja um dos fatores que mais tenha se relacionado com todas essas questões, não só como “sintoma” dessas transformações mas também como dispositivo, complexificando definitivamente noções biopolíticas.
É justamente a partir deste momento que alguns artistas e pesquisadores irão se debruçar sobre esta concepção de “vírus” de forma mais ampla. No campo das artes e da cultura isso moveu diversas frentes de trabalho e produções artísticas em que o HIV era usado como vértice para uma discussão maior sobre este “novo” momento.
Em todo o mundo as comunidades artísticas se mobilizaram – o que gerou o surgimento de novos formatos, linguagens e modus operandi. No campo das artes visuais, por exemplo, vimos nesta fase uma grande quantidade de projetos que tomaram os meios de comunicação de massa como suporte, a partir de ações de mídia tática, hackeamento, propostas de ruído, entre outras.
No contexto brasileiro, o pesquisador Arlindo Machado apresenta uma consideração interessante sobre tais estratégias artísticas (e que aqui particularmente eram agravadas pela Ditadura e por uma crise política em curso):
[…] as estruturas de poder, que subjazem por baixo das formas aparentemente inócuas de nossas sociedades, não tomam a forma de um discurso racional e distanciado, mas são produzidas com os mesmos instrumentos e meios com que essas estruturas são construídas. Trata-se, portanto, de um ataque por dentro, de uma contaminação interna, que faz com que essas estruturas deixem momentaneamente de funcionar como habitualmente se espera, para que as possamos enxergar por outro viés, preferencialmente crítico.
(MACHADO, 2004 pg.08).
Como comentado acima, o vírus do HIV, envolto a estes processos globais sócio-políticos, econômicos e culturais afetou também diretamente de forma transdisciplinar outros grupos, como o próprio ambiente acadêmico. Pesquisadores e intelectuais de diversas áreas passaram a analisar este novo contexto tomando o vírus do HIV como problemática.
Um dos pesquisadores inserido nestas proposições que trouxe uma
abordagem interessante no meu ponto de vista, foi o finlandês Jussi Parikka. Professor das faculdades de Winchester na Inglaterra e Turku na Finlândia, Parikka irá realizar diversos ensaios sobre o que ele denominará de “Capitalismo Viral”.
Tomando o vírus do HIV como um agente importante de alteração no
entendimento da biopolítica, Parikka desenvolveu uma espécie de
contextualização histórica a partir de uma “arqueologia das mídias”,
exemplificando como o corpo se tornou commodity a partir da sofisticação do capitalismo (como descrito anteriormente).
Métodos cada vez mais refinados e eficientes de desumanização e alienação fez o “Capitalismo Viral” se tornar irreversível. O corpo como commodity vem do aperfeiçoamento desse capitalismo em saber manejar uma espécie de imaterialidade, ou seja, produzindo paranoia, criando uma nova/outra relação de produção e consumo. Sendo assim, o “Capitalismo Viral” – se o relacionarmos à lógica do HIV funcionaria assim: Existe uma cooptação da “doença”, criando assim sistemas de manutenção desse “novo produto”. Manter uma espécie de “falsa panaceia” é interessante para continuar com a “lei da oferta e da procura”. Na verdade se formos pensar vários outros estratagemas da vida contemporânea funcionam desta maneira, todos atravessando o corpo.
Parikka diz: A noção de capitalismo viral resulta de uma ideia do capitalismo como capaz de modulação contínua e heterogênese. […] O poder do capitalismo reside na sua capacidade de apropriar-se do exterior, como uma parte de si mesmo. Em seu funcionamento, o capitalismo é uma máquina abstrata de continuar o novo, (re) inventando-se o tempo todo. […] O capitalismo é como uma máquina pegajosa […] É capaz de modular afeto, ações, práticas e discursos para que se possa obter valor até mesmo de riscos, acidentes e insegurança. Como tal, pode-se dizer que uma ideia do Capitalismo Viral refere-se ao poder de atração que o capitalismo baseia seu poder de marketing, este é o poder de afetar a chamar-nos para criar mundos em que nos sentimos naturais para viver. Este é o poder estético do afeto e da atração. (PARIKKA, 2011).
Conspirador ou não, melancólico ou não, distópico ou não – isso são análises individuais – porém a proposta apresentada neste texto é uma visão compartilhada de uma parte da comunidade LGBTQIA+ que exerce a militância e o ativismo em relação às políticas do HIV. A consciência desse corpo commodity e suas implicações gera novas possibilidades de subjetivação, atuações bio e micropolíticas além de novas estratégias. Como diz o artista Felipe Caprestano (importante agente cultural neste cenário): “SALVE-ME QUEM PODER!”
____________________________________________
1. Bruno Mendonça é artista, pesquisador, educador e produtor cultural. Formado em Letras pelo Instituto Superior de Educação de São Paulo (ISESP) é também Mestre em Comunicação pela PUC-SP na linha de Processos de Criação na Comunicação e na Cultura. Desde 2005 desenvolve uma produção como artista-etc. Por meio de performances, zines e mostras, cria ambientes e plataformas – muitas vezes colaborativas e temporárias – para discutir e problematizar não só o meio artístico, mas também sexualidade, gênero, ou quaisquer categorias fixas da cultura. Utilizando-se de dispositivos variados, seus trabalhos criam uma espécie de rede narrativa e discursiva, complexificando as relações entre performance e performatividade. Desde 2010 atua como professor. Foi membro do Grupo de Crítica e Curadoria do Centro Cultural São Paulo entre 2013 e 2016 e da Fundação Bienal de São Paulo.
[ACT I entailed a lot of things, and one of the most significant outputs is a GAME made by project members and artists/designers in Egypt. There is also this very cool GIF made by Brazilian designer, Gustavo Marcasse. Overall, ACT I was meant to be rather playful! Now, we’re working on ACT I.5 in support of Love Positive Women, Feb. 2020:]
About a month before the São Paulo AIDS Walk (now in its 3rd year), which was also on World AIDS Day, December 1, 2019, a group of positive folk and peers began meeting on Tuesday nights for a drink.
The idea of a Sarau came quickly after the name of the motley group, Somos… or Somos Mais. We are visual artists, community organizers, organization makers, filmmaker, bartender, health worker, fashion designer, poets, performers and couple who make a Centro club and art space called Um55. Our first Sarau Transante was on Saturday, November 30th at Um55, the day before World AIDS Day.
One idea came up that we liaise with the Municipal Secretary of Human Rights. As a member of Somos Mais, I would offer up the LUV game as a dialogue piece and lean into the performance atmosphere. We already had some of the first cloth hearts that George was making, so it was easy to engage folks to write ideas, thoughts and questions on the paper tiles but first telling them what we intended to do the following day with cloth tiles. And we gave away the first of them to people who intended including members of Coletivo Gleba do Pêssego who screened their film ‘Bonde’ during the Sarau.
The following day we personally distributed (offered) over 60 more hearts to walkers on the AIDS walk and at the public park where it ended. Giving the heart is an expression of love and I’m still digesting all the encounters I had when offering them and tying them around people’s necks. The game was more of a ‘display’ with big tiles at the public park where the walk ended. People wrote notes (or ‘recado do amor’ without being prompted and laid them on the large tiles in formation on the pavement. We had all walked hard, and there were beautiful performances of theatre and poetry and talks with the artists going on. No explanation was needed.
Later that night I went to Largo do Arouche to the regular Sunday night gathering of Arouchianos and handed out a few more hearts left in pocket from earlier in the day. I wanted to especially thank Arouchianos for their work in the Center. It makes a lot of sense to me. I think we may do something special next year during the Love Positive Women holidays (Feb 1-14, 2020). The LUV heart is now added to their bundle of flags and banners that crown the small tent where a generator and mic stand sit during the lively nights when they hold court at Largo do Arouche.
As I detail in Relatory Bogotá, I got to take part in the final piece of Luciérnagas with artist Daniel Santiago Salguero, offering me up-close access to a performance intervention in Bogotá’s Botanical Gardens on a Friday night with thousands of people around enjoying the cool night.
The first public presentation of Exposition Points de Vie, organized by Ankh Association and dedicated to people living with HIV in Egypt, took place on October 26th in Grenoble, France. The exhibition gave light to their experiences, joys, and difficulties. It involved the interactive game by Luv ‘Til it Hurts, a Falafel party, and Karaoke. The benefits went to حملة اعرف اكثر – Campagne ‘Pour en savoir plus’ – ‘Know more’ campaign .
Nic/Taha:
Hope the event in Colombia went well! I just wanted to send you a short feedback of our event in Grenoble yesterday. It went really well, a lot of people attended and they were all really interested by the project and the discussion was really interesting as well.
Todd/LUV:
Was the LUV game useful helping opening a dialogue and/or holding the space you envisioned for the event?
Nic/Taha:
Regarding the game, we had some difficulties with the printing process, as we couldn’t find in the short period of time a printing house that had the kind of material that we wanted, so we printed the tiles on the thickest paper we could find, then had them plastified. It worked well anyway to play, except for the fact that some shapes were really too small so we only used the medium and big ones.
Todd/LUV:
Can you say more on how you used the came and what came up?
Nic/Taha:
Also, even if the game is supposed to be used to start or open a discussion, we used it at the end of the event, but it was also a good way to close it in a more playful and participatory way. We had a lot of really encouraging messages, among them:
Silence=dead
Transnational solidarity
treatment for all
u=u
life goes on
hope
… and some really nice drawings 🙂
“Medicine Man.” (40×30 inch), by Issa Nyaphaga.
(Mixed media) paint from 2013 – 2014.
Santa Fe, NM – USA.
“HIV-AIDS Stigma Free.”
– Issa Nyaphaga
Photo by Oumar Mebouack
So George and I had this idea for an intervention in the São Paulo AIDS Walk, which happens on or around World AIDS Day, December 1 (yesterday). A group of us (somos) made a poetry, film and performance sarau, Somos (Mais) Sarau Transante was on Saturday evening, November 30 to get us in the mood for the intense day of AIDS Day … the acts, walks, talks, performances and such. It’s a lot for one day. It’s a lot to pay attention to all at once. That’s why I like so much the project by artist, Jessica Whitbread called Love Positive Women … it creates another set of days (Feb 1-14) during which positive women are commemorated, interacted with … thought of. This relates to the cloth hearts.
I was in Senegal a few times in the past years, and bought fabric for George. The first run, he made a series of scarves. The second run he made 100 cloth hearts with one fabric on front and the other on back. They have hard angles and lines like the ‘heart tile’ of the LUV Game. And the once used for ‘about’ on my homepage. The LUV Game would be played at the Sarau Transante and also the public park where the AIDS Walk ended. Parade (or bloco) walks like the one on AIDS Day are perfect situations for making a gesture. Sometimes corporates (pharmaceuticals) give away swag on these occasions and there are always drink sellers at such gatherings in São Paulo. The Senegalese cloth was laying around, and the contrasting patterns idea was already ‘had’. We didn’t really know if people from the Sarau would also attend the walk and the art performances at the walk’s end on the other side of Paulista from Baixo Augusta (beside Parque Augusta) where we began our journey.
We decided to make 100 hearts that look like the heart tile piece (same lines), a piece designed by Adham Bakry in Port Said (Egypt)…and seems to be tattooed on one of my right hand fingers. There were a lot of people who touched these cloth hearts. You can read more about the process on the Produções Pão com Ovo page. We gave away 60+ on the walk yesterday, and then some more that night at Arouchianos meeting at Largo do Arouche. We saved some back for friends during the holidays and inspiration.
The idea hit me so hard, it gave me a case of puppy luv. I mean I really really luv Marina Dias … she is the church. FULL STOP! It just so happened that she was spinning at DANDO party on Friday night before AIDS weekend. I told her beforehand on Insta that I’d bring her a heart. We were so late leaving the house: George was tired, and Wesley (pup) had to get his mask from a friend’s house and thusly arrived late too. We had good energy though and walked to Teatro Mars for the party. All dressed ‘down’. I opted for a kimono look, sultry, off the shoulder. George was wearing Vale’s new shorts creation, two layers of colored veil, and a shirt (I think). Wesley went as a dog. A very sexy puppy.
We were late. So once we cleared ticket check and basic flirting with the yellow-shirted DANDO staff, I ran upstairs to dance my way to the tables. She was there …I could see her, and pushed my way through the crowd, slipping off my ‘wife beater’ under the kimono. I had brought 10 of the hearts, or was it 11 in the end? George and Wesley were each wearing 3 or 4 around their necks. They soon met me at the front of the room. I had already handed the heart to Marina. She received it with a smile and put it over half her face as a mask in order to wink. Never missing a beat. I wanted to make sure not to interrupt her. I had already placed one on the neck of a beautiful ‘image’ at the base of the DJ stand, with a piece of black veil wrapping their whole head. I think they were there, and that I practiced giving a heart to them, laying it gently like a lei…
People started asking for them. Or looking for them. Where were they coming from. I decided organically who might best take care of the hearts, and have no regrets so far. There may have been one stamped into the condensation tracked floor of the dark room, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. And, there were many hearts already scattered about. Wesley missed the Sarau, I think our pup was all tuckered out.
Our venue for the Sarau fell through at the last minute and we want to say a big thanks for Ze + Sid who hosted us ‘on the fly’ at their new venue, Um55. Muito muitíssimo obrigado!!
TL: Hi Juan,
If memory serves this is a line in your film, De Gris a POSITHIVO … ‘wrap love in latex?’. I think it is when you are walking in the streets of Bogotá (all wrapped in plastic wrap).
Juan, first, I really appreciate your film, and furthermore it was great to have it privately screened at the event at El Parche on October 30th in Bogotá. I also really enjoyed being a part of the Laboratorio Luciérnagas performance and intervention at the Botanical Gardens on October 25th. The whole trip was amazing for me, and reminded me why I’m making the Luv ’til it Hurts project.
I understand (I think) the line in your film ‘wrap your love in latex’ as a question of sorts. I understand the sentiment to be something like this:
To have contracted HIV means one likely didn’t use a condom in that instance. By not wrapping one’s love in latex on that occasion, something changes. HIV is passed via semen or blood. And after that, there is a new prerogative to ‘contain’ the disease. Like, you may have to ‘wrap your love’ in order to not pass it further. I find that (even) friends and family can convey guilt to us because we did not generally or on that specific occasion wrap our love (or our dicks) in latex. In some instances it presupposes that we were taking careless risks. Friends and family sometimes take that personally, I’ve learned. So, I see your statement as a question: Can we always know to wrap our love before we use it or share it?
So, for starters, what did you mean with that line?
JDLM: En primer lugar, para mí es un placer y un verdadero honor comenzar de esta manera nuestra colaboración con Luv ´til it Hurts, una alianza que traspasa fronteras y supera las barreras –inclusive del idioma- que he descubierto, con mi diagnóstico de VIH que no existen.
¿Cómo forrar en látex el amor? Fue una pregunta que me hice tres días después de recibir el diagnóstico, porque sentía que tenía que protegerme de todo lo que me rodeaba, que estaba en una ciudad llena de bacterias, que hasta el agua que tomaba me podía enfermar (como me lo hicieron entender los médicos); pero también era una protección hacia afuera porque sentía que podía ser peligroso y contaminante para las demás personas y las debía cuidar de mí. Esta sensación fue muy triste porque se interponía en mi intención de compartir el amor y me hacía sentir que ya no podía hacerlo, sentir que tenía que guardarme todo lo que sentía para mí y que no podría compartirlo con nadie más, ni con mi familia, ni con mis amigxs, ni con las personas que me relacionaba sexo-afectivamente.
Después, con la información que he adquirido y el proceso de dotar de otro sentido y cambiar mi relación con el diagnóstico y con la VIHda misma, sentí necesario compartir esta pregunta con el mundo, porque me parece que vivimos con tanto miedo que siempre nos estamos forrando, protegiendo, conteniendo, estancando, que nuestras relaciones tienen que estar con una bolsa plástica de por medio, y quiero ahora, que no necesariamente sea así.
TL: And, how was it to be filmed in the streets of Bogotá all wrapped in cellophane?
JDLM: El cortometraje lo realizamos para la Escuela Nacional de Cine en Bogotá, Colombia. Como yo soy director y personaje principal necesitaba un grupo de trabajo que estuviera muy conectado con la historia y la situación. Yo comencé a comunicarles mis miedos, mis sensaciones y lo que quería transmitir y justo en esos días hicieron un simulacro de evacuación en Bogotá, entonces acudiendo a mi frase de forrar en látex el amor les propuse que me envolvieran en papel de alimentos para caminar por el sector de la ciudad donde estaba el simulacro.
Fue en verdad extraña la sensación de encierro, porque no podía mover las manos, no veía bien y además había cantidades de personas caminando, observándome, tomándome fotos, sin embargo esa sensación, era la más cercana a lo que sentí el día de mi diagnóstico y me acompañó por lo menos 6 meses después.
TL: What were the reactions by passers-by? And did you get to talk about HIV and the theme of the film with any curious onlookers?
JDLM: Las personas preguntaban si me había quemado, si estaba enfermo, si me había pasado algo, pero con el equipo decidimos no contestar ninguna de estas preguntas, solo estábamos interviniendo el espacio público. En general, era una reacción de extrañeza, en un momento de por sí muy atípico como es un simulacro cuando las personas no creen que están en ningún riesgo, pero tienen que salir de sus trabajos y alterar su cotidianidad. Después, recuerdo que subimos a Transmilenio (el Sistema de Transporte Público de Bogotá) y nadie se sentaba a mi lado, pero tampoco preguntaban nada.
TL: I thought that was the brilliant part about the Laboratorio Luciérnagas performance / intervention on the ‘free night’ at Bogotá’s Botanical Gardens. You had hundreds of passers-by … could you compare a bit the experience of making your film in the public space and being a part of Laboratorio Luciérnagas?
JDLM: Yo llegué al Laboratorio Luciérnabas dos años después de mi diagnóstico, pero hubiera deseado estar en este espacio desde que comencé mi proceso, de alguna manera era algo que estaba necesitando. La posibilidad de intercambiar conocimientos y hablar con personas que están habitando la situación y la VIHda como lo estoy haciendo yo y que además están cuestionándose sobre otros imaginarios y formas de relacionarse, ha sido muy enriquecedora para mí. Sin embargo, la Noche de las Luciérnagas fue un espacio mucho más acogedor y amigable que el momento en el que caminé forrado en látex, porque ya no me encontraba solo, ahora estaba en un proceso colectivo de intercambio y resonancia de sentires y sanación grupal. Aunque siento que las personas tenían una curiosidad similar y una expectativa que ocurriera algo más allá de lo que estaba pasando.
TL: I know we can’t share the film yet due to film festival competition, so please give us a short description here:
JDLM: De Gris a POSITHIVO, es un documental autobiográfico en el que comparto mi experiencia y la de mi familia cuando me diagnosticaron VIH positivo. Mi miedo a la muerte, la cotidianidad y los momentos complicados del inicio del diagnóstico son contados a través del diario que comencé a escribir 3 días después de esta noticia. Hago parte al expectador de mi viaje de regreso a la VIHda a través de un ritual performance en el que me forro todo el cuerpo en látex para renacer y llenarme de color.
TL: Where do you hope the film will be seen?
JDLM: Mi mayor deseo es que el documental se pueda ver en los lugares que pueda generar transformación en la mentalidad y el estigma de las personas que viven con VIH, sus familiares y quienes aún no han tenido ningún contacto con el diagnóstico. Con Salmón Producciones (productora documental de Lissette Orozco) estamos buscando un distribuidor con el que podamos hacer una estrategia mixta, para mostrarlo en Festivales de Cine, de Temática LGBT y de Derechos Humanos y en espacios comunitarios, educativos y artísticos en todo el mundo.
TL: Hey, you brought a colleague from Clínica del Alma Invita to the El Parche event the other night. So glad you did. Wanna tell us more about that place and what it means to you?
JDLM: Siento que el VIH como otras situaciones en la vida te colocan de frente a la pregunta de la muerte y nuestra existencia trascendente, por esto mi proceso artístico y de creación ha estado relacionado con una búsqueda espiritual fuera de iglesias y de cultos religiosos, en este camino encontré Casa Ocho un espacio de terapia alternativa en Bogotá, en donde pude trabajar el miedo a la muerte, mi relación con los límites físicos y la nueva VIHda a la que me estaba enfrentando. Después de este proceso, decidimos crear en este mismo lugar Clínica del Alma, como un espacio de diálogo, contención y compartir en el que vamos a hacer sesiones de escucha entre pares para personas con diagnósticos crónicos (VIH, cáncer), familiares y cuidadores y personal de la salud. Esta iniciativa obedece sobretodo a una necesidad de crear y compartir más espacios en los que sea posible hablar y transformar los imaginarios desde un lugar de experiencia entre personas que nos ha ocurrido la misma situación y hemos encontrado herramientas que nos han ayudado a transformarlas y ahora las queremos compartir.
Image stills of film De Gris a POSITHIVO, provided by director Juan De La Mar.
Synopsis: http://www.salmonproducciones.com/asesorias-y-alianzas/de-gris-a-posithivo.html
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeGrisAPOSITHIVO/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/degrisaposithivo/
Read also: Relatory Bogotá
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TL: Hi Juan,
If memory serves this is a line in your film, De Gris a POSITHIVO … ‘wrap love in latex?’. I think it is when you are walking in the streets of Bogotá (all wrapped in plastic wrap).
Juan, first, I really appreciate your film, and furthermore it was great to have it privately screened at the event at El Parche on October 30th in Bogotá. I also really enjoyed being a part of the Laboratorio Luciérnagas performance and intervention at the Botanical Gardens on October 25th. The whole trip was amazing for me, and reminded me why I’m making the Luv ’til it Hurts project.
I understand (I think) the line in your film ‘wrap your love in latex’ as a question of sorts. I understand the sentiment to be something like this:
To have contracted HIV means one likely didn’t use a condom in that instance. By not wrapping one’s love in latex on that occasion, something changes. HIV is passed via semen or blood. And after that, there is a new prerogative to ‘contain’ the disease. Like, you may have to ‘wrap your love’ in order to not pass it further. I find that (even) friends and family can convey guilt to us because we did not generally or on that specific occasion wrap our love (or our dicks) in latex. In some instances it presupposes that we were taking careless risks. Friends and family sometimes take that personally, I’ve learned. So, I see your statement as a question: Can we always know to wrap our love before we use it or share it?
So, for starters, what did you mean with that line?
JDLM: Firstly, for me it is a pleasure and a true honor to begin our collaboration with Luv ’til it Hurts in this way, an alliance that trespasses borders and overcomes barriers — including language’s — that I have come to find out do not exist, through my diagnosis of HIV.
How to wrap love in latex? This was a question that I asked myself three days after receiving the diagnosis, because I felt like I had to protect myself of everything that surrounded me, that I was in a city full of bacteria, that even the water that I drank could make me sick (as doctors made it seem); but it was also a protection towards the outside, because I felt that I could be dangerous and contagious to other people and that I had to be careful with myself. This feeling was very sad because it interposed my intention of sharing love and made me feel like I could not do it, like I had to keep everything that I felt to myself and that I could not share it with anyone else, be it family, or friends, or people with whom I would relate sex-affectively.
Afterwards, with the information that I had acquired and the process of endowing different senses and changing my relationship with the diagnosis and with HIV itself, I felt it necessary to share this question with the world, because it seems like we live in quite a bit of fear, as we are always wrapping, protecting, containing, sealing. Our relationships have to be with a plastic bag of medicine, and now, I want it to not necessarily be like that.
TL: And, how was it to be filmed in the streets of Bogotá all wrapped in cellophane?
JDLM: The short film was realized for the Escuela Nacional de Cine en Bogotá, Colombia. Since I am a director and main character, I needed a work group that was very connected with this history and situation. I started to communicate to them my fears, feelings, and what I wanted to transmit. On these same days there was an evacuation drill in Bogotá, so, attending to my phrase of wrapping love in latex, I proposed to them that they wrap me in food wrapping, to walk like that through the part of the city in which the drill was going on. It was actually strange the sensation of being enclosed, because I could not move my hands, I could not see well and also there was a large quantity of people walking, observing me, taking pictures of me. Nevertheless, this sensation was the closest to what I felt on the day of my diagnosis, which followed me for at least 6 months afterwards.
TL: What were the reactions by passers-by? And did you get to talk about HIV and the theme of the film with any curious onlookers?
JDLM: People asked me if I had burnt myself, if I was sick, if something had happened to me, but with the team we decided to not answer any of these questions, we were just intervening in public space. In general, it was a reaction of finding it strange, in a moment that was in itself atypical, such as a drill in which people don’t believe that they are actually under any risk, but have to leave their work and change their routine. Afterwards, I remember that we took a Transmilenio (the Public Transport System of Bogotá) and no one would sit next me, but also no one asked me anything.
TL: I thought that was the brilliant part about the Laboratorio Luciérnagas performance / intervention on the ‘free night’ at Bogotá’s Botanical Gardens. You had hundreds of passers-by … could you compare a bit the experience of making your film in the public space and being a part of Laboratorio Luciérnagas?
JDLM: I arrived to Laboratório Luciérnabas two years after my diagnosis, but I would have liked to have been in that space from the beginning of my process, in a way, it was something that I needed. The possibility of exchanging knowledge and talking to people who are inhabiting the situation and life (VIHda), as I am, and that are also asking themselves about other imaginaries and ways of relating, has been very enriching to me. Nevertheless, the Noche de las Luciérnagas was a space that was much more welcoming and friendly than the moment when I was walking around in latex, because I didn’t find myself alone anymore, I was now in a collective process of exchange, of resonance of feelings, and of group healing. Although I felt that people had a similar curiosity and expectation that something would happen beyond what was happening.
TL: I know we can’t share the film yet due to film festival competition, so please give us a short description here:
JDLM: De Gris a POSITHIVO is an autobiographical documentary in which I share my experience and that of my family, when I was diagnosed with being HIV positive. My fear of death, the day to day, and the complicated moments of the beginning of the diagnosis are told through a diary that I began to write 3 days before the news. I am part of the spectators of my journey back to life (VIHda) through a performance ritual in which I wrap my entire body in latex to be reborn and to fill myself with color.
TL: Where do you hope the film will be seen?
JDLM: My biggest wish is for the documentary to be seen in places that can generate transformation in the mentality and stigma of the people who live with HIV, their family members, and those who still have not had any contact with the diagnosis. With Salmón Producciones (Lissette Orozco’s documentary production company) we are looking for a distributer with whom we can have a mixed strategy, to show it at movie festivals, of LGBT and Human Right themes, as well as in community, educative, and artistic spaces all over the world.
TL: Hey, you brought a colleague from Clínica del Alma Invita to the El Parche event the other night. So glad you did. Wanna tell us more about that place and what it means to you?
JDLM: I feel that HIV, like other situations in life, makes you face the question of death and our transcendental existence. That is why my process of art and creation has been related to a spiritual search outside of churches and religious cults, and in this path I have found Casa Ocho, an alternative therapy space in Bogotá, where I could work out my fear of death, my relationship with physical limitations and with a new life (VIHda). After this process, we decided to create in the same place the Clínica del Alma, as a space for dialogue, support, and sharing, in which we will do listening sessions in pairs, for people with chronic diagnoses (HIV, cancer), family members and carers, and health practitioners. This initiative obeys above all a necessity to create and share more spaces in which it is possible to speak and transform imaginaries. It departs from a place of experience between people to whom similar situations have happened, as we have found tools that have helped us transform them, and we now want to share.
Image stills of film De Gris a POSITHIVO, provided by director Juan De La Mar.
Synopsis: http://www.salmonproducciones.com/asesorias-y-alianzas/de-gris-a-posithivo.html
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeGrisAPOSITHIVO/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/degrisaposithivo/
Read also: Relatory Bogotá
