Galería CIMA x SPECIFIC, Santiago

SANTIAGO

Join us at Galeria Cima, located in the heart of Santiago, Chile. Camila Alegria and Federico Martelli from OtherNetwork recently sat down with Trinidad Lopetegui and Sebastian Rojas, the founders of the gallery. Later in the conversation, Trinidad and Sebastian were joined by Daniel Aguayo, a cultural producer based in Santiago and the founder of SPECIFIC.

During the discussion, they delve into the pivotal role that Cima gallery played during the social unrest that swept through the city in October 2019, with the public square at the foot of their space serving as its epicentre. Leveraging makeshift technology, they initially observed, recorded, and ultimately broadcasted the protests via their public social media channels. This landmark event raised new questions about the potential roles that independent art spaces could assume within a society facing diverse forms of pressure.

You can also listen to the episode (in Spanish) on Spotify, Apple Podcasts and Youtube, or scroll down for the transcript in English.

Episode Transcript (English)

Federico Martelli (FM): We’re here with Camila, Trinidad, Sebastián, and Daniel sitting here in the gallery, but first, let’s start with Camila. Can you tell us why, as part of OtherNetwork, you decided to propose Galería Cima? Where does that interest come from, and could you explain a bit about where we are?

Camila Alegría (CA): Sure! I started working with OtherNetwork about a year ago, and I was really happy to join that project. At some point, the idea of making this podcast came up, well to start mapping out independent cultural spaces that where functioning in my area, my region, my city, Santiago de Chile. When the idea of a Podcast came, Galería Cima quickly came to mind, and I thought, “It has to be Galería Cima.” I don’t know why, but it just stuck with me. I tried contacting them months ago, which was a bit tricky, but we finally made it happen, here we are, so I’m really excited. I’ll share a bit about my personal experience with Galería Cima before you hear from the people directly involved with the project. I’ve only been here a few times, but I was aware of some exhibitions that were being planned, and I thought, “Galería Cima is really making a name for itself in Santiago.” It’s on the eleventh floor—geographically, the location is very interesting, etc. Then, in Santiago, and actually in all of Chile, there was a social uprising in 2019, right? October 2019 to be precise. It was an unprecedented uprising in our country’s history, at least in modern times. A burst, a moment, a context where we all surely have different stories, but it affects all of us because the mood and the socio-political context of that time were so significant. And what happened? Galería Cima took a significant turn, challenging the role of artistic and cultural spaces, and took a very clear and necessary position given what was happening. They started broadcasting 24/7 what was happening in one of the central squares. From our vantage point, we see a large part of the city, and we’re right next to the Plaza Italia, which during the uprising came to be known as Plaza Dignidad. The gallery took on a social and political role, which made me question the limits of cultural spaces. Is it a duty for these spaces? Can they do this? This transformation seemed crucial to me, which is why I thought it had to be Galería Cima.

Trinidad Lopetegui (TL): Thank you for that introduction. I’m Trinidad Lopetegui, co-founder and director of Galería Cima. I’m a visual artist and cultural manager. This project started with my partner Sebastián in 2017. Oh, sorry, that’s not right. I’m a bit scatterbrained right now, babybrain and all that stuff (laughs). We actually started at the end of 2016.

Sebastián Rojas (SR): I’m Sebastián Rojas, co-founder of Galería Cima and head of operations and commercial areas. I’m a musician, music Producer, and designer.

FM: Part of the team that founded OtherNetwork, some of us are architects, and one of our initial interests was understanding the importance of independent spaces in urban terms—how these spaces function in different cities and what do these independent spaces do for different urban contexts. So, could you start unpacking how you would describe Cima’s operation and its relationship with the urban context, because here it’s pretty unavoidable, right?

TL: Yeah. That’s exactly what Seba and I were looking for. I was finishing up my cultural management studies and had quit my job working with kids at a Waldorf kindergarten—totally unrelated. We wanted to start a project together but didn’t know what. We considered doing parties and a bunch of other things, but nothing panned out. When we saw this place, we came with no expectations, just dreaming because we heard it was available. We came over, and the view from this terrace blew us away. It’s something that still impacts us after more than 7 years. Every time we see the city from here, it’s still amazing.

FM: Can you describe maybe the first time you entered, when you opened the door, who opened it for you… what was that moment like?

TL: It’s a giant, solid wooden door with a brass handle. The building is from around 1955 and has some beautiful brass details. I remember the weight of that door when we walked in…

FM: (imitates the sound of the door opening)

TL: Yeah, I thought about doing that sound effect, but it wasn’t going to work out. When the door opened, I saw the hallway, and immediately, you have a view of the terrace, and the Telefónica building, which is this ugly building we have here. But later on, we would understand the significance of that building, which played a major role during the uprising. We reached the terrace, and Seba and I looked at each other with our eyes wide open and mouths agape, like, “Wow, this is a joke” because… We’re both from Santiago, we’ve passed by here many times. Well, Sebastián lived nearby in Bellavista, so he was here much more than I was, since I was always more from the mountains. We walked around here a lot, but we never imagined a space like this being up here. Generally, in this corner, which is one of the most crucial corners of Santiago—where several neighborhoods converge, there’s the Mapocho River, the (San Cristobal) hill, the Parque Forestal, and the Alameda—people usually don’t look up this way much, unless they’re tourists. I feel like when you’re more of a tourist, taking it easy, you tend to look up more. That day marked the beginning, and since then, Seba and I always look up as we walk. The space’s features include a 300 square meter apartment with a 100 square meter terrace, which is almost 180 degrees, actually 180 degrees with nearly 360-degree views.

SR: Right, it’s almost 320 degrees of visibility, with only a small portion to the west not visible. And the height, about 60 meters, means you’re elevated, you can see the horizon, but you don’t feel like you’re on an airplane, lost. It’s not like other giant towers where you just see a tiny spot; you’re still immersed in the city.

FM: And from the beginning, did you decide to go with this because the space is incredible and its location is perfect? Did it immediately trigger an interest in the Plaza Italia below, like understanding the gallery’s potential in terms of the connection with the protests or…?

SR: What happens is that this being a key point, is somewhat… Although ‘Plaza de Armas’ would be considered the center of the city, the real center of Santiago is this area. As Trini said, this is where several neighborhoods converge, where people move to and from everywhere. All celebrations, political events, and anything happens here. In a poorly designed roundabout that served no purpose other than for those kinds of events.

TL: But there’s a very curious and nice fact about the last exhibition we did with Voluspa Jarpa. We did research on this space, and this square used to be called the Tinku, which was a place of meeting and dispute at the same time. It’s where communities gathered to discuss, fight, negotiate, and celebrate. So, energetically, it’s a very important point…

CA: So, before colonization, this space already had that… How incredible!

FM: So, energetically, it continues to produce the same effect on people. It’s amazing.

TL: And we felt that. We felt a very particular energy in this place, which over time we discovered went beyond our individual projects or personal desires and became something much more collective, something greater than us.

CA: And then, moving on to deciding, “Well, this is going to be a gallery.” How did that happen? Was there a call for artists, or did you invite artist friends…

TL: I think that was pretty arbitrary on my part because, as an artist, I thought, “Of course, this has to be a gallery.”

SR: Right, initially, it was like, let’s create a space for art and culture. But what we first started doing to push the project financially was reaching out to many location scouts, advertising production companies, event organizers, and media agencies to offer the space as a location. That’s what we initially did. In fact, we sent an email today, and I think we got a response the same day or the next day, inquiring about renting the space for all kinds of advertising and events…

TL: Yes, because that was the first thing we needed to generate resources to start paying for the space. Then, we began looking for ways to maintain an independent space with cultural content while also doing these other things, like setting up this commercial area to help fund it.

SR: Right, always with the priority that it be free and open to the public. Because typically, private spaces either focus solely on art sales and aren’t located in central areas, at least not before. Or they’re event centers or clubs where you charge for entry and host shows or similar events.

TL: So, we started putting together a mix. We began on October 24, 2016, and I think in November and December we had our first events. An event with a catering service, the launch of the Joya magazine, and various other things. By January, we met with an artist who contacted us through the gallery’s Instagram, Paula Garrido Miranda, who does serigraphy and textile photography.

CA: I know her well…

TL: She also works with her partner, Nachito, and they reached out to us on Instagram. We met up…

CA: They also had a cultural space, right?

TL: Yes, they had a space that had closed at that time. I remember meeting Paula at an event where she was doing an activation while Seba was DJing because Seba is also a DJ. So I met her there, and then she reached out to us. It sounded familiar, so we met up. They were also a couple working together, and we became good friends and we started to invent something. They had won a grant to go to New York to show a piece of work, so we showcased that piece here before it went on tour. And that’s how we got started. We’ve never actually had an open call for exhibitions, except for an audiovisual series we did several years later. It has always been, I feel, the tone of this project, very much from the gut, from intuition, things that just come up, very much by chance… 

CA: And like networks you probably already had somewhat active, right?

TL: Totally. In fact, one of the things we did that year was a performance by Sebastián Mahaluf, who was my professor at university.

CA: He was also my professor at university, beloved.

TL: Absolutely beloved. Fun fact: Seba just got married here recently!

CA: I can’t believe it! (laughs) I saw photos and sent a message. I saw wonderful photos and everything, but I didn’t know it was here.

SR: It coincided with the same day as the symphony orchestra or the Carmina Burana performance downstairs, so while they were doing…

(Various voices) How spectacular! How wonderful! How dramatic!

FM: Okay, so in terms of how the project came about, you basically walked into the space, said, “We need to create something here, this place needs to be activated,” and from there, you started figuring out how to manage, understand how to raise enough funds to maintain and pay the rent, basically.

TL: Yes. We went… I found the whole Fondart (state funds) process terrible, and I still think it’s terrible.

FM: Annoying? Boring? What’s the issue?

TL: Annoying, poorly structured, all of it. I think at that time, not having much experience, it seemed to me… and also, we didn’t have the time or the strength of a big team to go that route, so we decided to go a different way, with events. In the meantime, we started preparing a bit more and began applying for funds like Sercotec, CORFO, municipal grants to start implementing things. We also formed several partnerships, one of which was with a tech company that provided us with Bow speakers, which sounds amazing, and we use them for everything. And so we started creating various types of collaborations to finance and sustain the space. We rented out the space, generated resources, and spent much of it on setting up exhibitions and opening them for free to the public. We began working with brands, so you’d come, get in for free, and also receive a free beer—things like that, which don’t happen anymore, but at that time it was lovely, even when people struggled to understand how we worked. Even today, people still don’t fully grasp how we operate because we’re a bit closed off. I feel we’ve shared how things work, but since people don’t read much, it’s not always clear to them. Sometimes people think this is a very VIP place that’s not accessible, but it’s always been accessible in different ways. We don’t have continuous hours from Monday to Friday, but we do open on specific occasions, and those who are subscribed to our newsletter or follow us on social media can get information there.

FM: So you started generating activities, activating the space, hosting events, and also exhibitions, and people began to learn about Galería Cima, and then suddenly, the social uprising…

TL: Yes, but now I remember something. I think it’s interesting to mention that at that time, we created a model where exhibitions lasted 4 days. We would open on a Thursday with a private invitation and then be open to the public for free on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Since we’re in a semi-residential building, the building required us to have a list with the names and details of everyone entering for security reasons. So people would sign up through our website, and then they’d come up and that was how it worked. We did many exhibitions this way because it allowed us to keep the space available for rental the rest of the time. There was a year when we had almost a monthly exhibition in this format, with the rest of the time free for events. Then, over time, we switched to 6-month exhibitions, going from one extreme to the other.

SR: Right, having a 4-day exhibition every month is crazy. Imagine restoring the gallery every month.

TL: And it was like a fair format too, super stressful because we had to be here all day. I mean, even today, one of us is always here when there’s an event. Very rarely, I think only a few times, have we done things without us being present.

FM: But I like that you’ve explored different timings for exhibitions, right? I mean, I know more established, commercial galleries with a very rigid, fixed program—they have an artist every two months or every five weeks and they change because they also rely on selling art works and have collectors. So the rhythm is very different. You’ve had the chance to experiment a bit with the timing of exhibitions, haven’t you?

SR: Yes, and often, the funding for these other spaces you mentioned is tied to a program that has to be sold in advance. So when you get funding from an institution, brands, companies, or even through donation laws, you have to present a program. The beauty of being completely independent, which is the tone of this conversation, is that we have absolute freedom to do whatever we want, whatever comes to our minds. We experimented a lot. At first, we loved that model—it was super popular. On a weekend, we could have 2,000 people come through; it was madness, lines down the block. I mean… I wanted to mention this because from 2017 to 2019, these two years were like the growth and reach of the gallery, the exhibitions, and the artists who came through was exponential, it was tremendous, and then… the social outbreak… (laughs) Well, and I think it hit everyone, definitely, all projects. It felt like big things were coming and… by 2019 we were already super…

TL: Positioned.

SR: We were super well-positioned, so to speak, financially. From October to January is the peak season for events and exhibitions. We had scheduled and reserved, I don’t know, 15 events for two or three months. A huge percentage of what we made from each event was used to fund these exhibitions.

TL: Yes, and the other thing is that since we are a space with a lot of terrace area, terraces in winter go down to the floor. So our commercial part was the high season at the end of the year, and we were eagerly anticipating it because we had come from a very tough winter. In fact, I had gone back to work at the kindergarten that year, partly because I was very depressed and partly because the gallery’s financial situation was really bad. So we were looking forward to this mega high season. On October 18th, Seba and I didn’t come because we had a wedding scheduled here for October 19th. So we decided to stay home, relax, and rest. But Danito, who was around, was the only one here on October 18th and saw everything, so he can tell you.

Daniel Aguayo: No, I had a meeting with an artist scheduled here that day around 6 p.m., and before that, a friend who grows marijuana came by. (laughs) Well, every now and then, we would get together—he doesn’t just grow it but makes his own seeds and mixes them. It’s incredible. So we had arranged to meet before the meeting to try the new stuff he had. We were trying it out when everything started exploding in the plaza.

FM: And this was before the meeting?

DA: Yes, and on top of that, the scene was bizarre because, I don’t know if you remember, the water main had burst in Providencia earlier that week. The river flooded, the water came down Costanera, Andrés Bello, and Providencia, flooding the entire city. It even reached our building.

SR: It even flooded our storage room where we had artworks.

CA: No way…

DA: That same week. And all the buildings in the Lyon sector, Pedro de Valdivia, were flooded.

SR: I remember a bookstore in Drugstore—or it could have been a bit further down—lost everything. It was pretty intense.

DA: It had been that same week, so the scene was like a flood, trying to recover the street. The street was closed because they were trying to remove the water. The metro was cut off, so there were hordes of people walking in all directions, endless traffic. I had the joint in my hand (laughs). Then, suddenly, I remember there was a checkpoint at the metro exit, and some people arrived—there were some people shouting, it seemed calm at first, like it wasn’t too serious. Then suddenly this group started attacking the checkpoint, pushing it, and within a minute, the plaza was filled with people pulling down the barriers around the roundabout and started painting the streets. Everything turned into a…

FM: And more and more people kept arriving…

DA: I mean, by the time we got downstairs—seeing that things were heating up a bit—and when we finally went outside, the police had already arrived, there was a stampede of people running, and really, in less than 20 minutes, everything happened very, very fast.

SR: Crazy, I didn´t remembered that story so well. It’s wild how it all happened in such a short time.

DA: I prefer to call it a revolt, but the concept of an explosion, in the sense of being explosive, really makes sense to me, at least for what was experienced here in the square

FM: Because I was reading some articles where you talked about this, and at one point, Trini, you mentioned that after the social explosion, you realized that Galería Cima started to function as a public utility platform, right? You used those exact words, and I find that really interesting because, as part of OtherNetwork, we’re constantly commissioning texts and people to write for various independent spaces. We asked an independent space in Lagos, Nigeria, to write about what they were doing, and they said exactly the same thing. When the pandemic hit, they switched gears from being an independent space for art and culture to distributing contraceptives because there was no access to sexual education or health. So they essentially transformed. What I find really interesting about independent spaces is their flexibility to adapt. Being independent means, you can decide what you want to do and be flexible in how you react to your environment and what’s happening around you.

TL: Yes, I think it’s related to something very profound, and in this case, it has to do with empathy and, I believe, with service as well. It’s not something related to money.

SR: Or to you personally.

TL: Exactly, or to you, but rather something with a greater, collective reason. I feel like it comes from there. It was an impulse for us because what happened was that when there were protests downstairs, our space was like a viewing platform for the protests. We had an incredible peripheral view, and we really wanted to become the base of operations to help everything run more smoothly downstairs and outmaneuver the cups, but clearly, that wasn’t possible, we couldn’t take that role. So, what do we do from this place, how can we contribute? And the first impulse was to start filming. At that time, we had about 20,000 followers on Instagram, which is quite a lot. So we started live streaming on the app, and we had a huge, huge reach. At that moment, I became a bit obsessed with Instagram and couldn’t let go, and while I was obsessed with that, Seba became obsessed with –and he can tell the story which is very interesting, live streaming on YouTube with a camera. At that time, we had a YouTube channel with 3 subscribers.

SR: Which were the three of us (laughs).

CA: And then you came across with some technology—I call everything technology because I’m not very tech-savvy—but you had to get some technology or understand somethings to be able to stream 24/7.

TL: Seba is a hacker to me (laughs).

CA: To me too.

TL: He’s a wonderful global hacker.

SR: The thing was, I saw Trini with her phone all the time, many hours, all the time. So, it was like we had to automate this, so it didn’t depend on us constantly. So, the first thing that came to mind was that we had some security cameras.

TL: That black ones leaning there.

SR: They were portable, with magnets, so they could stick to anything, and I started studying how to stream from that camera to a computer first, to a program to stream it.

FM: To publish it, basically.

SR: Exactly. And I think I studied for a couple of days.

TL: We were able to access the Gallery on the 21st, and by the 23rd, we were already streaming on YouTube.

SR: Right, I started studying on the 21st, and by the 23rd, we managed to get the first camera working. Still, it wasn’t working well because everything was very slow. The internet at that time was terrible, the cameras were Wi-Fi, I didn’t know how to connect them via Ethernet cables. And then it occurred to me, I remembered a friend who is a musician, a friend who was the vocalist of Makiza, CO2, who, along with Senci, had a program where they did streaming and had a special streaming camera (a Migo camera), a Vimeo camera, right? So I borrowed it, and Seo2 came over, brought the camera, taught me how to use the app, and we achieved better quality, but the connection was still weak due to the Wi-Fi. So, what was missing now? An net cable, a really long one, at least 30 or 40 meters. So, a friend who was already heavily involved, everything happened very quickly. In three days, we were like a team of 10 people constantly working…

CA: You could feel that from afar. Even without knowing any of you, for me, that was Galería Cima, like a team of people working, catching up very quickly when some of us were still walking in circles trying to understand what was happening…

SR: Exactly, what happened was that the transmissions and this wonderful place… TV channels started calling us to put their cameras here, and since TV lies and we weren’t interested in the channels, we started receiving requests from independent journalists, photographers, audiovisuals, documentarians, filmmakers, all independent. That’s when the team started to consolidate. Dano took care of those requests, managing the lists, the entry, the IDs. We were super paranoid because too many things were happening; we were often targeted downstairs. So, we were all in war mode.

TL: True…

SR: Yes, it was super intense, and… the net cable cable. A friend was at the supermarket buying gas masks (laughs) for us and the team, and I asked him, “Please check if they have net cables, I need 30 or 40 meters minimum.” “No, there aren’t any here.” He went to another place, and there weren’t any. It is a fun story, I looked up and said: “What do I do?! Help!” And after saying that, I looked up to the left, and there where some cell phone antennas, some railings. I looked up and saw a cable tangled on a railing, a huge bundle of cables, and I couldn’t believe it. I climbed up to the roof, and it was the cable we needed. On one side, it had a good connector, and on the other side, it was just wires. So, I had to figure out how to connect the cable to another end, cut another cable, connected the camera, and ¡boom! HD streaming to YouTube.

FM: I remember because I got the link. I was in the Netherlands, and my cousin, who was on the front lines, like a stone thrower, kept me updated. He told me at one point, “Hey, check this out, live here,” and sent me the link from Galería Cima. That was the first time I became aware of the project, and it was incredible because it was the same as… other people outside, Chileans who were also following the protests through this network.

SR: Oh, well, of course. When we achieved a stable connection and such, we also grabbed WhatsApp and sent it to a bunch of friends, acquaintances, and even some celebrities: “Live now, Plaza Dignidad.” At that time, it was still called Plaza Italia, live…

TL: But within a week, it became Plaza Dignidad.

SR: No, exactly, but we sent that link, so I think, imagine how quickly that link must have gone viral because it was a madness.

FM: What I also find super interesting is that, in a way, at the beginning, you were working looking to your insides, and then suddenly, all this started to turn outwards. The direction of your efforts changed, right?

TL: Totally, that’s exactly it. We’ve said it that way. Our attention was previously very focused on this space, on our project, our development as professionals, artistically. And suddenly, the vision shifted from here, and we started looking around us. That made us connect with others, empathize with… We are also very privileged in many aspects of life. There are many basic struggles we have covered, but we empathize and resonate with them, and we had to contribute from our place, from our trench to that, and it was about stopping looking inward and starting to look outward and empathize and contribute from there.

SR: And another thing, related to the same topic, is the gesture of the security camera that guards the interior versus the security camera that guards the exterior. That is really crazy.

CA: Yes, it seems to me that way. When I explained to Federico why it had to be Galería Cima and not any other place, it was because there are many poetic gestures I see underlying here. Although it shifted to a political and social struggle, there is also a work of imagery, right? Like, I told Federico this is a counter-response to a moment when we’re also experiencing an era of artificial intelligence, fake news, and false images. Nothing is real anymore; everything is fiction, etc.

SR: And in a system that watches you.

CA: Exactly. And this is like a reverse panopticon, so to speak. And how suddenly the 24/7 image becomes a counter-response to that fictionalized image. Especially since it comes from a cultural space that isn’t a TV channel. If TVN had set up an antenna and had been filming all day, it wouldn’t be the same.

SR: Exactly. And it’s open to public access because there’s traffic surveillance and all these cameras around Santiago, but they’re all closed off. You can’t access them…

CA: They’re surveillance cameras and are strategically placed for other purposes.

SR: But you know what’s really crazy? When we arrived to this space, one of the things that crossed my mind was to install a very high-definition camera, I mean, very good quality, and sell the remote control to news agencies or even have two: one for news agencies with certain quality and another for curious people who wanted to pay, I don’t know, 50 pesos a minute to zoom in and look from a building anywhere. That was the project I had, and I still have it written down in a notebook: Project Sapo. So when this happened, it was like, wow… it can’t be, or can it? Yes, it can be. It had to be done; that idea had already come up.

FM: It has a super interesting relationship with technology since the social outbreak. The Gallery isn’t just a gallery that does very traditional exhibitions with paintings on the walls; it seems that the Gallery’s impetus has a very interesting relationship with technology now, right?

TL: Yes, totally. Well, and Seba is very Gemini and gets obsessed with things, so that obsession was beautiful because in a short time, we started to organize ourselves, and that’s how we became an independent operations base where each of us contributed from what we could, from our own trench. And many times, from the other side, from the other “side”, well, I don’t even know if there are “sides” anymore; everything is so terrible now. And looking back, I’m connecting with what we felt at those moments, which was so beautiful. People used to ask us where we got the resources to project at the Telefónica building and to do the lighting and all that…

SR: Funded by Venezuela (laughs)… and we didn’t have a penny.

TL: And of course, people, especially those who aren’t artists and don’t move in these circles, don’t understand that one can act out of conviction, that one can do things out of a shared conviction, common ideals, purposes that transcend individuality or money. So, that’s when we started connecting with D-line, with Trimex, with Dani Valenzuela, tons of light artists, to contribute a little with words, with poetry, with reflections. I think that was also super enriching because it gave us this light of hope and it was what inspired us as well.

SR: And with historical records for the right people, so the right people could make an unbiased historical record. I think that was also fundamental.

DA: It’s nice to act in an emergency. Everything was from there, like… I don’t know, New Year’s is coming, Evelyn Matthei didn’t want to put lights in the square, so, there were lights (laughs). Like those types of decisions and then seeing your own way of making art as well, how to react quickly.

FM: Do you think it’s like a curatorial effort too? Have the different things you’ve done have they also been curatorially conceived? Or have the decisions been made just very quickly?

TL: I think they have been very quick and very, as Dano says, from the emergency, but within that, there is curation. Perhaps less consciously at times, but some projects and things that, I don’t know… Some, for example, seemed a bit contaminating and didn’t align with our position or vision, and we had to say no. Others, we were also restricted because the building wouldn’t let us hang canvases down; the one time we did, we got scolded. So, they were influenced by various factors, but I think that in each of those decisions, there was a curation process.

SR: And divine curatorships too, you know, it’s not so rational, but more about as channels.

CA: And I think projects related to city interventions started to approach you. With the same stance you took, it was like an organic curatorship formed, right?

DA: When you’re rowing in the same direction, and it happened not only here but with people you knew from other places, wherever, you realized if you were in the same opinion, in the same flow or not.

SR: Exactly, like if you’re in the first line, an organization starts to form organically, of who helps whom for what and who is beyond. Here it was the same, the people who approached, those who entered here, those with whom there was chemistry and a good vibe, it was like the same.

FM: But I think this could be a good point to talk more about what Daniel does, right?

(Pause)

DA: Yes, well, I’m Daniel Aguayo, I’m an architect and I’ve been here at the gallery since 2018 supporting exhibitions and, well, all the work that turned into a friendship and later into a bit of a (social) struggle, working together during the outbreak as you mentioned before. So, yeah supper committed with the team here.

FM: So the city from here, since we are in an incredible place and we’re in a glass cube and the whole city is visible around, it feels like the city becomes the space, right? And what you are doing with the lights and using the plaza down below and everything started like to transform the concept of the museum and what the exhibition space is, what is curating as well. What you said about how curatorship became more of an emergency thing, but I don’t think that makes it less of a curatorship, just a different way of doing it. So, in terms of museography, I imagine you must have thought of some super interesting things in terms of thinking about the city like that, right?

DA: Well, I feel that I was able to observe a lot of what was happening down below while we were up here and everything that was going on. And I think the most beautiful thing is understanding the chaos within the city. Like the city as this invention for society to take shape and that’s why streets have certain forms and we have traffic lights and squares and monuments, buildings, and in the end, that determines the way of living, but nobody controls, nobody is able to control human behavior per se, you know. So when things happen like this uprising where everything seems an apparent chaos, but of course, noise, shouts, crowds of people, and you start to understand how they start to organize organically, for lack of a better word, you realize some very beautiful aspects of being human, you know. I mean, some people find it an abomination, but seeing, following the production chain of a projectile from when they break the sidewalk until it starts to take shape, the right size to make an appropriate projectile to hit a tear gas truck, following that whole chain from above is beautiful. And at the same time, seeing the power, you know. Sometimes it was noticeable, like at 5 in the afternoon someone would hit the red button and all the cops would come out, these green helmeted turtles coming out everywhere to massacre, to push people to one side and the other. The conquest of the center of the square. So I feel that it’s very beautiful to understand that and almost like revisiting the history of Chile in 10 years, you know. And that, applied to art, I think the great thing about working in art is that we can work with that organic aspect and I don’t know, you as an architect too, we understand what the rigidity of measurements means and all that, but when you set up an exhibition on the last day you can still move the painting 10 centimeters to the left because the red looked redder than you thought and that’s fine, you know. So I feel personally I could like loosen up, but also understand when art is made and why. I remember I was talking with an artist here, the last artist who exhibited here (before the uprising), Catalina Andoni. And we did a performance here on the terrace where we shot laser beams up invoking… the work was called Destiny, invoking peace and awareness of what was happening because of the fires and two weeks later there were real laser beams with the…

CA: Like a premonitory thing…

DA: Yes, we saw it very much as a premonition. So, what happens with art, when it is fiction, I mean, it’s always presented as fiction, but what is its temporality? So, at the moment of the outbreak, the uprising you don’t rationalize it, you have to act and that’s why also a space made by artists, with that sensitivity, was able to react immediately with everyone around, with those who make lights, projections, with everyone and how to do that emergency art. So, I don’t know, I feel like that’s where I see a bit of the headlong rush that can provoke a situation like this.

FM: And also realizing the potential of art to be immediate because sometimes, like within the walls of a museum that usually are very clean, perfect, it’s like a totally abstract and separate experience from…

CA: Like cleaned of all the experience, the process, the mess…

FM: Exactly, exactly. And here you can realize, in some way, that art can also have the potential to be immediate, right? Like the reaction of people to the art here was…

TL: incredible, I mean the city walls every day had different things and were updated. All the manifestations that were there, it was very beautiful.

DA: The graphics… like all the amount of sayings, the poetry written on all the walls, the t-shirts made. I feel that the graphics were like the quickest thing, which clearly needs a much faster technique than painting or building something bigger… it’s beautiful.

CA: I was talking with a European friend, a Frenchman, about this thing of the uprising or the revolutionary spirit, of revolutionary aesthetics, and undoubtedly, we both thought that in Chile or maybe in the whole world, in the Western world, we have learned certain things from the French Revolution, right? Aesthetics and slogans and I asked him what was the difference he saw. Because over there the yellow jackets were very strong, you know, and he talked to me about Tía Pikachu. I mean, he said, here there’s a humor and I feel that is part of Chilean idiosyncrasy that we learned or that became very clear with the social outbreak but was kind of underground and I imagine how that for cultural entities, artists, museographers, etc., poets, how all that aesthetics, from Tía Pikachu, from the dinosaurs, from those more absurd things…

FM: Spiderman…

CA: Spiderman! I mean, the “matapacos” (“cop-killer” dog), you know. The giant sculpture of the “matapacos”.

TL: The “matapacos” is very interesting, it would die and then come back appearing with flowers.

DA: It’s amazing, and they even brought the “matapacos” dog so it could be seen from the camera at one point (laughter).

FM: No, the camera started generating different reactions in people. Instead of being just a witness. So people began to act for the camera.

SR: Yes, like the things written on the ground were written towards the camera. They could have been written the other way, but yeah, it’s crazy.

DA: People would look for themselves at certain times of the day and also terrible things like, I don’t know, crimes that happened where the cops shot someone and people asked for the camera images to know the time and have it as evidence of what happened.

FM: And is this the work you have been doing with ‘Florence Architecture’?

TL: No, they used it for a study of tear gas canisters. They used the images to measure and quantify everything and yes…

FM: The documentation you generated was used by them to…

TL: Yes.

FM: Incredible, incredible to be part of that too, like the archive.

TL: Yes, actually, when was it? in 2022 when we were in Berlin, at the Berlinale, we saw one of their works and our images were there and it was impressive, spectacular.

DA: Last year that work was also here in Cerrillos.

TL: Right, yes I didn’t see that one.

FM: Hey, so to start to wrap up, I wanted to ask you something: What is the future of Galería Cima? What are you working on?

TL: Well, we are raising our first daughter named Lupe (laughter). We are in a pause from the artistic content itself; we are doing more parties, open parties with DJs in a bar format, running that area. We are also open to the more commercial side of the Gallery, we are renting out the space, but we are mainly dedicated to our daughter who is 5 months old, so we are in this pause. Also, reflecting on everything we lived through, which was undoubtedly very intense, both personally and collectively. We have rethought many things; if we look at how we are now, unfortunately, the situation hasn’t changed much.

SR: Right, plus after the outbreak and pandemic we had two pretty long exhibitions, the same camera work and the collective work toured, so to speak, around the world. We went to Mexico, Germany, Spain with artworks…

TL: With art pieces we generated as a collective.

SR: Of course, so, in that sense, yes. We’re tired, and we had a daughter and…

TL: Yes, so in a way, we’ve used this pause to reflect on where we want to go. We may not have a clear direction, but we do have the certainty that we want to move toward a brighter place. Raising a daughter and considering that everything we went through was quite dark, we want this space to become a beacon of light, a place where we can reflect, but from a much more loving perspective, with art that might not be directly political as it was with the protests and social uprising. We want it to be more about spiritual processes…

SR: And personal ones. What happens is that I think after everything that happened, we were all left with a horrible feeling, like maybe we were misled, like nothing worked out, and we also realized the dark powers that exist and surround us, constantly crushing us.

TL: Yes, and there were many deaths, mutilations, and till this day, there’s no justice or reparation. So, of course, there are still people who continue the same struggle, but we can’t be as physically involved as we were because we are now heading in a different direction in life.

FM: And on top of that, everything got a bit disrupted by the pandemic, right? Everything seemed to be cut off.

SR: And I believe the pandemic is part of the same thing, part of the global macabre plan. It’s perfect, Machiavellian, it’s tremendous. So I think efforts can go in other directions, exactly as Trini said, more spiritual, more luminous, making others feel good, healing certain things rather than… I don’t know… maybe more personal matters.

TL: The Gallery has always been quite personal, that’s the thing. The Gallery is us, and we receive people as if we were in our own home. And with this, well, I also became a DJ in between, so we love throwing parties and sharing with people. Our space has also become much more multidisciplinary.

SR: It should be a social gathering place. I think that’s the key to the space as well.

CA: Well, to wrap things up, we have a question with which we like to close, because it relates a bit to OtherNetwork’s vision. The word “Network” here is like an illusion and this desire for interconnected networks that are not just like museums and institutions but also function from the edges, activating from the edges, thinking from the edges, right? As an independent space, as independent artistic and cultural entities, and this question is for each of you. Trinidad, I’ll start with you. The question is the same for everyone: what independent artistic space would you dream of working with? It could be a space that already exists and no longer functions, or one that is still active, whether it’s local or not. If you had to choose a space, with whom would it be…

TL: Oh, that’s terrible! I find this question very difficult, and honestly, I feel like I would need to think more about it. But I could respond with general ideas and people. For me, Dano has been an incredible discovery in these years, and we have become very close partners and friends, almost like family. I think what happens between us when creating and gestating is what I seek and would like to continue generating. In that sense, I see Dano as a figure. Dano created Specific Studio, which produces exhibitions, and he has become a curator, museographer, he does everything. I find that very inspiring. How Dano can connect with artists deeply and beautifully and uncover that darkness within each person. I mean darkness as in the hidden treasure that he brings to light in a wonderful way, I find that very inspiring. I think those kinds of relationships and connections are what I would love. I don’t have a specific institution in mind, but working with Dano for life would be amazing for me. And yes, I dream of something more… as I mentioned before, something we did at one point that I think is still out there on social media was a collaboration with various artists, musicians, producers, and performers. It was a project called Om Resistencia, which we did with Andrea Paz, DJ, producer, and many other artists who participated in the uprising. It was very interesting, and from there, we thought about working with a club like Berghain, for example. We mentioned it jokingly, but it’s real. A space for absolute freedom, which I think is something that’s hard to find here. We never felt part of the traditional circuit; on the contrary, our relationship has always felt strange. We were nobodies, like where did we come from, why did these people who don’t come from the elite have this space? So, spaces where you feel free to explore everything without any limits—well, there are limits, of course, but without many limits—seem very interesting to me. And that project, sorry, I’m being very scattered, but the Om Resistencia project connects a lot because it’s electronic music, performance, and aligns with what happens in that club, which I find mind-blowing. I think it’s the most wonderful and incredible place I’ve been.

SR: Sorry, I’ll say right away that when we were thinking about this question earlier, we both came up with the same answer at the same time, so Trini already answered for me. I’m out of this question.

DA: I was thinking of two things. One, to be more concrete, a current space—I don’t know because I’ve had the luck with my own project to move in various categories, very institutional, very independent, very high-end, very diverse. So, I feel nostalgic about a space that existed in the 2000s called Celar. I was at university at that time, and it was like the energetic reference…

CA: Of the Pitzi, right? Cárdenas?

DA: Yes, from Pitzi. It was about how to create a space with good vibes, with parties and everything. The energy of those spaces, what they meant, and the way they moved a whole musical scene, a scene of artists… I feel that there are still few spaces with such potential. And the other thing, in terms of more contemporary art, I feel like we increasingly need something alternative, alternative to the established fairs. In every major city with art fairs, there is the big fair and then 3 or 4 or 5 parallel fairs. For the art market in Chile, which is very precarious and co-opted by a few, where the same people buy from the same people, I’m getting tangled up… I think we need a new network that can support a market, that supports and not just competes, that adds and helps everyone.

SR: I’d just like to add that it’s a working model that has emerged, which is a model that leads to friendship. I mean, 95 percent of the artists who have passed through the Gallery, with whom we’ve shared and experienced the processes of mounting, development, curating, everything, production processes, end up being great friends. And to this day, they’re the ones who come here. For example, tomorrow we open, and 70 percent of the artists who have been to the gallery comes, every time we open something, they come, we get together to have dinner, to do things, and it’s beautiful, meeting people in that way and reaching so deeply into one’s soul. It’s impressive for friendly, affectionate relationships.

FM: Okay, what better way to end, right?

CA: Yes, beautiful conversation. I love the conclusion; it seems worthy of study, as well.

FM: Yes, totally. Hey, thank you so much.

CA: Thank you very much.

TL: Thank you to you.