{"id":1042,"date":"2022-07-30T14:14:06","date_gmt":"2022-07-30T14:14:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge2022\/?page_id=1042"},"modified":"2023-02-18T16:50:41","modified_gmt":"2023-02-18T16:50:41","slug":"davo","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/change\/essay\/davo\/","title":{"rendered":"Michelle Dav\u00f3"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

English version<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Abstract<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Working for four years in the socialization of a grassroots archive of sexual culture in Mexico called El Insulto, I have found that centering touch in our practice helps to unravel valuable tools for collective bodily knowledge. But what does touch and its effect mean in a post-lock-down world? We used to take touch for granted; has it now acquired new significance? How does its re-accommodation into our new reality occur within artistic communities? Through reflecting upon El Insulto\u2019s exhibition Please Touch. Embracing the <\/em>Memories of <\/em>Desire<\/em>, I will share how pleasure, intimacy, and consent can help us, as cultural workers,  create dynamics for surpassing the challenges that a post-touch world brought and how to recover it for the sake of embodied practices and intimate socialization.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Due to the Covid-19 pandemic, communities lost immeasurable collective networks that were grounded in physical gatherings. Now, cultural workers have the responsibility to help their re-construction, which is vital for political activism and social well-being. Working for four years in the socialization of a grassroots archive of sexual culture in Mexico called El Insulto, I have found that sexuality approaches to bodily knowledge could prove as a valuable tool in our practice to reintegrate physical bonding in social spaces. Through reflecting upon El Insulto\u2019s curatorial and display strategies in our 2019 exhibition Please Touch. Embracing the memories of desire<\/em>, I will share how touch, intimacy, and consent are not only fundamental axis for the socialization of sexualities, but how they can also help cultural workers to create dynamics to overcome the affective and physical distance that the lockdown has brought, for the sake of intimate communitarian relationships and collective action.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

On touch \/ untouched: What sexuality socialization can teach us in a post-lockdown world<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

By Michelle Dav\u00f3<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 2020, the co-founder of the Bolivian anarcho-feminist movement Mujeres Creando, <\/em>Mar\u00eda Galindo, wrote that \u201cthe Coronavirus is a weapon for destruction and prohibition (\u2026) of the social protest, where we are told that the most dangerous thing is to gather and be together.\u201d In times of contagion, Galindo considers how the closing of frontiers is absurd: to not go out to the streets; to stop seeing the ones we love. It is absurd, she argues, because it\u2019s like breathing. And \u201cnot being able to breathe is what we are condemning with the coronavirus, not as much due to the disease itself, but [through]  confinement,  prohibition and  obedience.\u201d She proposed that instead of letting us believe that we could avoid contagion through distance, we should have had a collective, loving, and embodied preparation for what was yet to come. This way we wouldn\u2019t have let the State instrumentalize the coronavirus for dissipating our affective fights in public spaces, nor our political encounters in the private ones. She said \u201clet the coronavirus find us, ready for contagion.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 2022 social distancing continues. But as Galindo presaged, the impacts of Coronavirus   were unavoidable. We have not only lost loved ones but, due to the obedience of confinement, we have also lost the opportunity to say goodbye. Thus, contagion has acquired contradictory meanings. Closeness, which we had taken for granted as a naturally conceded need for such a long time turned into a double-edged sword. How do we relate to that which we consider mandatory to avoid for survival <\/em>and simultaneously necessary for living<\/em>? Two years later,  despite uncertainty being our only certitude with a somewhat vaccinated population, we feel more prepared to reclaim physical spaces for pleasurable and political collectivism. But beyond the mandatory precautions of Covid-19, what other challenges do we face in our efforts to recover closeness? Might the scars of confinement and anxiousness towards social gatherings have created a barrier for our individual and collective capacity for social encounters?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I ask these questions not only as a (sur)vivor of the pandemic, but as an arts and culture administrator. Since 2018, I have worked at Archivo El Insulto, a grassroots platform dedicated to the preservation and socialization of an archive of twentieth-century print materials related to sexuality  that have circulated in Mexico. Between November and December of 2019 \u2013three months before Mexico\u2019s lockdown\u2013 we held our last exhibition as part of the archival exhibition program La Postal<\/em> by Terremoto Magazine in Mexico City. Please Touch. Embracing the Memories of Desire<\/em><\/a> applies central ideas around sexuality to question contemporary archival and curatorial dynamics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Intimacy, consent, and fantasy are concepts in sexuality that guided the display of our records. In traditional archives, the bureaucratic rituals for consultation cause an emotional and physical distance between the consulting subject and consulted objects: going through all the paperwork, being observed by the security cameras, and sometimes not being able to touch the documents at all.  At El Insulto, we wanted to rethink the hierarchical consultation dynamic by encouraging our attendants to freely handle our books, magazines, and photographs. We put several cushions and rugs on the floor so that the attendants could sit or lay down while r handling the exhibited objects; which mostly depict images of naked people laying down. We wanted to foster a horizontal and intimate relationship between people and objects based on a shared relaxed and vulnerable posture.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nevertheless, designing a comfortable space is not enough for generating closeness. We created room guidelines where people and objects were equally prioritized. For comfort, people were allowed to lay down on the cushions, while objects remained on the tables. For their safety, people were allowed to leave the room, while objects were not. People had to handle objects carefully and the objects promised  to not stain the readers\u2019 hands. This game of applying rules both to people and objects answers to current discussions around consent in sexuality studies and activist movements. We wanted to foster awareness on the shared responsibility by giving autonomous agency to  our records. These documents are manifestations of bodies and desires of people from the past, and as such, they deserve to be part of a respectful, affective, and horizontal dialogue with whoever encounters them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The creation of this safe space with its own rules gave rise to a shared experience of the exhibition as a space both for and of fantasy. Surrounded by curtains, participants were required to reveal what was hidden on the other side in order to enter the exhibition space: a room within a room where getting involved with the records was a comfortable and intimate event. Between the pages of some of the books and magazines we placed prints from our photographic collection. In such a manner, attendants did not only dis-cover the curtains to enter, but also found hidden photographs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Therefore, touch was a crucial experience for generating closeness with the records: sliding the curtain, laying down on the cushions, handling the records on the table, discovering new materials while looking at them. The guidelines we created allowed this contact to be respectful. By prioritizing the safety and comfort boundaries of all subjects and objects, we sought to foster consensual relationships.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before the pandemic, thinking about the political and affective value of sexuality helped Archivo El Insulto create socialization strategies based on touch to foster affective relationships between people and records. Reflecting on the exhibition today,  I see the power of touch as a path for reconstructing communitarian bonds and recovering lost intimacies beyond the spaces of sexuality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The more I delve into the theory and practice of arts administration, the more I understand that the healing required today sums up to the touch of bodies: the social bodies, the individual bodies, the territory-bodies, the object-bodies. All of them are part of a continuum of power relationships that flux between their border-ed(less) surfaces. Our work demands awareness of how these bodies touch, what galvanizes them to do so, and how touch can create change in each of them.. Even with this awareness, , the arts and cultural sphere faces huge obstacles for creating a sense of  bonding and human togetherness. What bonds did we lose  during the lockdown and what strategies should we use for recovering them?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Different social justice movements such as Black feminisms, Indigenous Decolonial thought, and queer liberation aim for the recognition of bodily knowledge to decodify the entangled structures that support white supremacy, patriarchal order, and capitalist regime. Thus, while social distancing has worked as a strategy for collective care during the pandemic, I agree with Galindo that it is urgent to recover collective embodiment.  And here, touch and closeness cannot be merely metaphorical. As cultural workers we have the responsibility to reflect on how touch occurred before the pandemic and how we should foster it now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although I do not have all the answers, I believe looking at the theory and discussion around sexuality can provide us with valuable tools for recreating intimacy. Just as the AIDS activism movement reminds us, we should not forget that it is not only disease that spreads through touch, but also pleasure, affects, and collective action. While distancing was a necessary practice to take care of ourselves, now intimacy and collective bonding are the ones that should find us ready for contagion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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\"\"<\/figure>\n
Documentation of Please Touch. Embracing the Memories of Desire, <\/em>show by Archivo El Insulto
La Postal by Terremoto Exhibition Series 
Mexico City, M\u00e9xico 
2019<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\n

Spanish version<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Abstract<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Working for 4 years in the socialization of a grassroots archive of sexual culture in Mexico called El Insulto, I have found that centering touch in our practice helps to unravel valuable tools for collective bodily knowledge. But what does touch and its affects mean in a post-lock-down world? We used to take touch for granted; has it now acquired new significance? How does its re-accommodation into our new reality affects artistic communities? And how returning to it can help us not lose sight of our missions in this hyper-capitalist world?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Through reflecting upon El Insulto\u2019s exhibition Please Touch. Embracing the memories of desire<\/em>, I will share how touch, intimacy, and consent are not only fundamental axis for the socialization of sexualities, can help us as cultural workers to create dynamics for surpassing the challenges that a post-touch world brought and how to recover it for the sake of embodied practices and intimate socialization.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

On touch \/ untouched: What sexuality socialization can teach us in a post-lockdown world<\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

By Michelle Dav\u00f3<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

En el 2020, Mar\u00eda Galindo, cofundadora del movimiento boliviano anarquista-feminista Mujeres Creando, escribi\u00f3 que \u201cEl coronavirus es un arma de destrucci\u00f3n y prohibici\u00f3n (\u2026) de la protesta social, donde nos dicen que lo m\u00e1s peligroso es juntarnos y reunirnos.\u201d En tiempos de contagio, Galindo consideraba un absurdo cerrar fronteras, no salir a las calles, dejar de ver a quienes amamos. Lo consideraba absurdo porque el contagio es inevitable. Porque el contagio, escribi\u00f3, es como respirar. Y \u201cno poder respirar es a lo que nos condena el coronavirus, m\u00e1s que por la enfermedad por la reclusi\u00f3n, la prohibici\u00f3n y la obediencia.\u201d Ella propon\u00eda que en lugar de dejarnos creer que pod\u00edamos evitar el contagio con la distancia, realiz\u00e1ramos una preparaci\u00f3n colectiva, amorosa y acuerpada para lo que se nos ven\u00eda encima. As\u00ed, no dejar que el coronavirus se instrumentalizara por el Estado para disipar nuestras luchas afectivas en espacios p\u00fablicos, ni nuestros encuentros pol\u00edticos a puerta cerrada. Ella dec\u00eda, \u201cque nos encuentre el coronavirus, listas para el contagio.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

En el 2022, el distanciamiento sigue. Pero, como presinti\u00f3 Galindo, el contagio result\u00f3 inevitable. En este tiempo no s\u00f3lo perdimos seres querides, sino que, con la obediencia al distanciamiento, tambi\u00e9n muchas veces la oportunidad de despedirnos. Por ello, el contacto ha tomado significados contradictorios. La cercan\u00eda, que por mucho tiempo dimos por una necesidad naturalmente concedida, se volvi\u00f3 un arma de doble filo. \u00bfC\u00f3mo valoramos ahora eso que consideramos obligatorio evitar para la supervivencia<\/em>, pero a la vez necesario para vivir<\/em>? Dos a\u00f1os despu\u00e9s, aunque la incertidumbre sigue siendo la \u00fanica seguridad, con una poblaci\u00f3n \u2013medianamente\u2013 vacunada nos sentimos m\u00e1s preparades para recuperar los espacios f\u00edsicos de la colectividad gozosa y pol\u00edtica. Pero m\u00e1s all\u00e1 de las precauciones mandatorias de COVID, \u00bfqu\u00e9 otros retos se nos presentan en nuestros esfuerzos de retomar contacto? \u00bfSer\u00e1 que la huella del aislamiento y la ansiedad de (con)vivir cre\u00f3 una barrera en nuestra capacidad individual y colectiva de acercarnos? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Estas preguntas me las hago no s\u00f3lo como sujeto viviente de la pandemia, sino como gestora cultural. Desde el 2018 trabajo en El Insulto, una plataforma autogestiva dedicada a la preservaci\u00f3n y difusi\u00f3n de un archivo de documentos sobre sexualidad del siglo XX con circulaci\u00f3n en M\u00e9xico. Entre diciembre y noviembre del 2019 \u2013tres meses antes de que inciara la cuarentena\u2013 tuvimos nuestra \u00faltima exposici\u00f3n como parte del programa La Postal de Terremoto Magazine en la Ciudad de M\u00e9xico. Se ruega tocar. Intimar con las memorias del deseo<\/em><\/a> ten\u00eda como objetivo utilizar reflexiones centrales alrededor de la sexualidad para cuestionar las din\u00e1micas archiv\u00edsticas y expositivas contempor\u00e1neas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

La intimidad, el consenso y la fantas\u00eda son conceptos en torno a la sexualidad que guiaron el montaje de nuestros materiales. En los archivos tradicionales, los rituales burocr\u00e1ticos para la consulta de documentos provocan un distanciamiento emocional y f\u00edsico entre el sujeto y el material consultado. Nosotres quer\u00edamos repensar esa din\u00e1mica jer\u00e1rquica al alentar que nuestros participantes mani<\/em>pularan libremente los libros, revistas y fotograf\u00edas. Colocamos cojines y tapetes en el suelo para que los asistentes tuvieran que sentarse o recostarse para tomar los objetos exhibidos, los cuales mayoritariamente contienen im\u00e1genes de personas desnudas recostadas. Quer\u00edamos incentivar una relaci\u00f3n horizontal e \u00edntima entre ellos basada en una postura compartida entre im\u00e1genes y asistentes: vulnerable y relajada. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sin embargo, dise\u00f1ar un espacio c\u00f3modo no es suficiente para generar cercan\u00eda. Creamos un reglamento de sala, donde se priorizaba por igual la seguridad de asistentes y objetos: las personas ten\u00edan permitido recostarse en los cojines mientras que los objetos ten\u00edan permitido recostarse en las mesas. Las personas pod\u00edan salir de la sala, pero los objetos no. Las personas deb\u00edan de tomar los objetos con cuidado y los objetos no deb\u00edan manchar las manos de les asistentes. Este juego de reglas tanto para participantes como documentos contesta a la discusi\u00f3n sobre la importancia del consenso en los debates de la sexualidad. Buscamos generar una reflexi\u00f3n sobre responsabilidad compartida al darle a los objetos agencia propia. Nuestros documentos reflejan los cuerpos y deseos de personas del pasado y por ende, merecen un di\u00e1logo horizontal, respetuoso y afectivo con quienes los encuentren.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

La creaci\u00f3n de este espacio seguro, con su propias reglas, propici\u00f3 que la exposici\u00f3n se viviera tambi\u00e9n como un espacio de fantas\u00eda. Rodeado por cortinas, los participantes deb\u00edan develar lo que escond\u00eda para poder entrar al cuarto dentro de un cuarto: un espacio contenido donde relacionarte con los materiales es un suceso c\u00f3modo e \u00edntimo. Entre las hojas de algunas publicaciones colocamos reimpresiones fotogr\u00e1ficas de la colecci\u00f3n. De esta manera, les participantes no s\u00f3lo des-cubr\u00edan las cortinas para entrar, sino tambi\u00e9n las fotograf\u00edas escondidas. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fue as\u00ed que lo t\u00e1ctil result\u00f3 una experiencia crucial para generar cercan\u00eda con los documentos: correr la cortina, recargarse en los cojines acolchados, tomar las publicaciones de las mesas, descubrir nuevos materiales al hojearlos. El reglamento permiti\u00f3 que este contacto se realizara de forma horizontal y respetuosa guiada por los propios l\u00edmites de les participantes y, por lo tanto, por las pr\u00e1cticas consensuadas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Antes de la pandemia, pensar en la sexualidad y su valor pol\u00edtico y afectivo nos permiti\u00f3 al equipo de Archivo El Insulto proponer estrategias basadas en la importancia del contacto para generar relaciones afectivas entre documentos y personas. Revisitando la exposici\u00f3n, ahora m\u00e1s que nunca veo el poder del tacto como una v\u00eda para (re)construir lazos comunitarios y recuperar intimidades perdidas m\u00e1s all\u00e1 de los espacios de la sexualidad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mientras m\u00e1s me introduzco en los estudios y la pr\u00e1ctica de la gesti\u00f3n cultural, es que mejor comprendo que la mejora de nuestro sector se reduce al contacto entre cuerpos: los cuerpos sociales, los cuerpos individuales, los cuerpos-territorio, los cuerpos-objetos. Todos forman parte de un continuo de relaciones de poder que fluye entre sus superficies sin frontera. Nuestro trabajo nos demanda una mayor conciencia de c\u00f3mo es que estos cuerpos se tocan, qu\u00e9 los llev\u00f3 a hacerlo y qu\u00e9 cambios produce en cada uno el contacto entre ellos. A pesar de esta conciencia en nuestra profesi\u00f3n, observo los retos que la esfera cultural y art\u00edstica enfrenta para retomar el contacto para generar relaciones y cercan\u00eda.  \u00bfQu\u00e9 lazos perdimos con el distanciamiento y qu\u00e9 estrategias debemos utilizar para reconstruirlos?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Diversos pensamientos como lo son los feminismos negros, pensamientos ind\u00edgenas decoloniales, y los estudios queer apuntan al reconocimiento del conocimiento corp\u00f3reo para decodificar los entra\u00f1amientos estructurales que mantienen la supremac\u00eda blanca, el orden patriarcal, el r\u00e9gimen capitalista. As\u00ed que, mientras que el distanciamiento es una forma de cuidado colectivo en el marco de la pandemia, concuerdo con Galindo en que retomar el acuerpamiento social es urgente. Y este contacto no puede seguir siendo metaf\u00f3rico. Les gestores culturales tenemos una responsabilidad en reflexionar c\u00f3mo era el contacto antes de la pandemia, y c\u00f3mo debemos de procurarlo ahora. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Aunque no cuento con respuestas certeras, aprender de los valores y debates de los activismos y las comunidades en torno a la sexualidad puede otorgarnos herramientas valiosas para regenerar nuestras cercan\u00edas. Tal vez las enfermedades se propician por el contacto, pero como nos recuerdan los activismos del SIDA, no nos permitamos olvidar que no s\u00f3lo la enfermedad se contagia por contacto, sino el placer, los afectos, y la acci\u00f3n colectiva. Mientras que el distanciamiento fue una pr\u00e1ctica necesaria para procurarnos, ahora son las intimidades y los contactos colectivos quienes nos deben encontrar listes para el contagio.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

Michelle Dav\u00f3 <\/strong>Michelle Davo Ortiz is an arts administrator and researcher from Mexico City. She is carrying out the dual degree at SAIC with the support of the Fulbright-Garcia Robles fellowship, the Jumex Museum scholarship, and the SAIC\u2019s Pritzker Scholarship. Since 2018, Michelle has worked as the project coordinator of El Insulto Archive, where she co-curated the exhibitions \u201cPlease touch. Embracing the Memories of Desire\u201d at La Postal-Terremoto and \u201cA Particular Collection\u201d at Noche de Archivos Abiertos. She has also worked as the Communication Coordinator of Vulgar — a sex education collective focused on pleasure and social justice, a curatorial volunteer for Museo Nacional de Arte, and a mediation volunteer for Museo Jumex de Arte Contempor\u00e1neo. Her research centers on the intersections of sexuality, affect, and social justice in theoretical and historiographic arts studies.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

English version Abstract Working for four years in the socialization of a grassroots archive of sexual culture in Mexico called El Insulto, I have found that centering touch in our practice helps to unravel valuable tools for collective bodily knowledge. But what does touch and its effect mean in a post-lock-down world? We used to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":271,"featured_media":0,"parent":1716,"menu_order":5,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"templates\/template-full-width.php","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-1042","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1042","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/271"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1042"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1042\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1697,"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1042\/revisions\/1697"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1716"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.saic.edu\/emerge\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1042"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}