Próximamente en Ecatepec.
jueves, 26 de noviembre de 2009
Exposición Fragmentos y Sonidos en la UACM plantel del Valle
Bandita muchas gracias los que estuvieron con nosotros, para los que no aqui les van unas fotos
martes, 10 de noviembre de 2009
Programa
Cabe decir que debido al paro nacional a desarrollarse el día de mañana, se ha ajustado el calendario de actividades, por lo cual dicho Coloquio se llevará a cabo finalmente los días jueves 12 y viernes 13 de noviembre, del año en curso, en la sede del Plantel del Valle de la UACM, en los espacios y horarios señalados en el programa que les anexamos.
PROGRAMA
Jueves 12 de noviembre de 2009
9:30- 10:00 Registro de participantes
10:00-10:30 Palabras de Bienvenida e Inauguración:
María Rosa Cataldo, Coordinadora Académica de la UACM
Sérgio Costa, Director del LAI.
Javier de la Rosa, Coordinador del CEC-UACM.
Anne Huffschmid, LAI.
Conduce: Iván Azuara Monter, CEC-UACM
LUGAR: LOBBY DEL AUDITORIO
10:35-12:00 Conferencia
Emilio Duhau, UAM-A y Angela Giglia, UAM-I.
Los avatares del espacio público: del ideal decimonónico a los micro-órdenes contemporáneos.
Moderador: Iván Azuara, CEC-UACM.
LUGAR: LOBBY DEL AUDITORIO
12:10-14:40 Mesa de Análisis
Espacio Público y Esfera pública: Cruce de miradas entre conceptos y realidades urbanas, mesa I
Ponentes: Alejandro Cerda, CEC-UACM
Anne Huffschmid, LAI-FUB.
María de los Ángeles Moreno Macías, CEC-UACM y
Rosa María Ramos. IIA-UNAM
Moderadora: Ana Helena Treviño, CEC-UACM.
LUGAR: LOBBY DEL AUDITORIO
14:40-15:50 Comida
16:00-18:00
Espacio Público y Esfera pública: Cruce de miradas entre conceptos y realidades urbanas, mesa I
Ponentes: Analia Soria, Sociología-UNB.
Ana Helena Treviño, CEC-UACM.
Guénola Caprón, CEMCA
Juan Luis Rodríguez, FES-Acatlán-UNAM.
Moderador: Alejandro Cerda, CEC-UACM
LUGAR: LOBBY DEL AUDITORIO
18:10- 19:30 Cine-Debate
Ponencia con avances del documental ¿De quién es el Centro Histórico?
por Raphael Schapira, Boris Gilsdorff, Barbara Rühling (LAI-FUB)
LUGAR: AUDITORIO
19:30- 20:50 Lecturas cruzadas
Esther Andradi: Berlín es un cuento (novela)
Intercambio entre escritoras con Francesca Gargallo, UACM.
LUGAR: AUDITORIO
21:00 Inauguración y Brindis
Exposición Fotográfica de Arwed Messmer: Anonyme Mitte Berlin / Berlín Corazón Anónimo
Colectivo Videoinstalación Fragmentos y sonidos, a cargo de Cesar Campia, Fabián Flores, Rubén Bedolla y Estefanía Espinoza.
Comentarios: Dr. Iván Gómez Cesar (antropólogo visual).
LUGAR: LOBBY DEL AUDITORIO
Viernes 13 de noviembre de 2009
9:30-11.15 Conferencia
Max Welch Guerra, Bauhaus-Universität Weimar
El espacio público a partir de la experiencia berlinesa: fronteras, vacios, ¿apertura?
Moderadora: Anne Huffschmid, LAI
LUGAR: LOBBY DEL AUDITORIO
11:30-13:00 Mesa de Análisis
Espacio Público y Esfera pública: Cruce de miradas entre conceptos y realidades urbanas, mesa III
Ponentes: Carlos Astorga Vega, UNAM
Hans Dieleman, CEC-UACM
Armando Ramírez Palomo, UACM
Moderadora: María de los Ángeles Moreno Macías, CEC-UACM
LUGAR: LOBBY DEL AUDITORIO
13:00-14:40 Mesa de Balance
Proyecto: dialogando entre las grandes ciudades
Max Welch Guerra, Anne Huffschmid, Javier de la Rosa, Iván Azuara, Alejandro Cerda, Juan Luis Rodríguez y Analía Soria.
Dinámica dirigida por preguntas de investigación, coordinada por Teresa Mckelligan y
María de los Ángeles Moreno Macías
Con la participación de la UNB y la UNAM.
LUGAR: LOBBY DEL AUDITORIO
14:40-15:50 Comida
16:00-18:30 Presentación del libros
Los poderes de lo público. Debates, espacios y actores en América Latina (Vervuert, 2009) con la editora Anne Huffschmid (LAI-FUB) y la autora Teresa Carbó (CIESAS)
Comentarista: Sergio Tamayo, UAM-Azcapotzalco.
Ciudadanía, Espacio Público y Ciudad, coordinado por Javier de la Rosa, UACM y Ana Helena Treviño, UACM, editorial UACM.
LUGAR: PECERA
18:30- Cine-Debate y Clausura
Documental Berlin Babylon (Hubertus Siegert, 2000)
Comentarios de la documentalista Christiane Burkhard
LUGAR: AUDITORIO
viernes, 30 de octubre de 2009
Fragmentos y Sonidos del 11 al 13 de Nov UACM del Valle
Esperamos verlos a todos por ahi.
miércoles, 14 de octubre de 2009
Arwed Messmer "Anonymous Heart Berlin" y Fragmentos y Sonidos
Arwed Messmer compartirá el espacio con
Fragmentos y Sonidos en el próximo Foro
Internacional de Estudios sobre la Ciudad que se
efectuara en la UACM ubicada en calle Sn Lorenzo
n. 290 col del Valle, Del. Benito Juarez, México D.F.
del 11 al 13 de Noviembre. El fotógrafo alemán desde los 90´s ha enfocado su trabajo artístico en la topografía de las ciudades. Desde 1992 radica en la ciudad de Berlín y ha seguido de cerca su evolución. Su trabajo, ademas de mostrar la cara de la ciudad, captura también las dimensiones históricas de ciertos lugares, que bien sirven como filtro para nuestra percepción de la realidad actual. En esta ocasión trae su más reciente trabajo titulado "Anonymous Heart of Berlín" dando una perspectiva del presente y pasado de esta capital.
Un pequeño adelanto, estaremos anunciando el programa en unos días para que vean estas y muchas otras pics en gran formato.
viernes, 9 de octubre de 2009
jueves, 24 de septiembre de 2009
Próxima presentación de Fragmentos y Sonidos
Se confirmo la participación de Fragmentos y Sonidos en el Foro Internacional de Estudios sobre de Ciudad en la UACM de la del valle que se realizara del 11 al 13 de Noviembre. Habra cine, video, fotografía, conferencias, entre otras formas de expresión acerca del tema. Se prometen cosas de muy buena calidad, próximamente estaremos posteando el programa para que estén al tanto, mientras tanto solo podemos informar que Fragmentos y Sonidos estará el 12 de Noviembre.
martes, 15 de septiembre de 2009
William S. Burroughs & Kurt Cobain: The "Priest" they called Him (1993)
William S. Burroughs & Kurt Cobain: The "Priest" they called Him (1993)
"Fight tuberculosis, folks." Christmas Eve, an old
junkie selling Christmas seals on North Park Street.
The "Priest," they called him. "Fight tuberculosis, folks."
People hurried by, gray shadows on a distant wall.
It was getting late and no money to score.
He turned into a side street and the lake wind hit him like a knife.
Cab stop just ahead under a streetlight.
Boy got out with a suitcase. Thin kid in prep school clothes,
familiar face, the Priest told himself, watching from the doorway.
"Remindsme of something a long time ago." The boy, there, with his overcoat
unbuttoned, reaching into his pants pocket for the cab fare.
The cab drove away and turned the corner. The boy went inside
a building. "Hmm, yes, maybe" - the suitcase was there in the doorway.
The boy nowhere in sight. Gone to get the keys, most likely,
have to move fast. He picked up the suitcase and started for the corner.
Made it. Glanced down at the case. It didn't look like the case the boy had,
or any boy would have. The Priest couldn't put his finger on what was so
old about the case. Old and dirty, poor quality leather, and heavy.
Better see what's inside. He turned into Lincoln Park, found an
empty place and opened the case. Two severed human legs that belonged to
a young man with dark skin. Shiny black leg hairs glittered in the
dim streetlight. The legs had been forced into the case and he had to use
his knee on the back of the case to shove them out. "Legs, yet,"
he said, and walked quickly away with the case.
Might bring a few dollars to score. The buyer sniffed suspiciously.
"Kind of a funny smell about it." "It's just Mexican leather."
"Well, some joker didn't cure it."
The buyer looked at the case with cold disfavor.
"Not even right sure he killed it, whatever it is.
Three is the best I can do and it hurts. But since this is Christmas
and you're the Priest..." he slipped three bills under the table into the
Priest's dirty hand. The Priest faded into the street shadows, seedy
and furtive. Three cents didn't buy a bag, nothing less than a nickel.
Say, remember that old Addie croaker told me not to come back unless
I paid him the three cents I owe him. Yeah, isn't that a fruit for ya,
blow your stack about three lousy cents.
The doctor was not pleased to see him.
"Now, what do you WANT? I TOLD you!"
The Priest laid three bills on the table. The doctor put the
money in his pocket and started to scream.
"I've had TROUBLES! PEOPLE have been around!
I may lose my LICENSE!" The Priest just sat there, eyes, old and heavy with
years of junk, on the doctor's face.
"I can't write you a prescription." The doctor jerked open a drawer
and slid an ampule across the table. "That's all I have in the OFFICE!"
The doctor stood up. "Take it and GET OUT!" he screamed, hysterical.
The Priest's expression did not change.
The doctor added in quieter tones, "After all, I'm a professional man,
and I shouldn't be bothered by people like you."
"Is that all you have for me? One lousy quarter G? Couldn't you lend
me a nickel...?" "Get out, get out, I'll call the police I tell you."
"All right, doctor, I'm going." Of course it was cold and far to walk,
rooming house, a shabby street, room on the top floor.
"These stairs," coughed the Priest there, pulling himself up along the
bannister. He went into the bathroom, yellow wall panels,
toilet dripping, and got his works from under the washbasin.
Wrapped in brown paper, back to his room, get every drop in the dropper.
He rolled up his sleeve. Then he heard a groan from next door,
room eighteen. The Mexican kid lived there, the Priest had passed him on
the stairs and saw the kid was hooked, but he never spoke, because he
didn't want any juvenile connections, bad news in any language.
The Priest had had enough bad news in his life.
He heard the groan again, a groan he could feel, no mistaking that groan
and what it meant. "Maybe he had an accident or something.
In any case, I can't enjoy my priestly medications with that sound coming
through the wall." Thin walls you understand. The Priest put down his
dropper, cold hall, and knocked on the door of room eighteen.
"Quien es?" "It's the Preist, kid, I live next door."
He could hear someone hobbling across the floor.
A bolt slid. The boy stood there in his underwear shorts, eyes black with
pain. He started to fall. The Priest helped him over to the bed.
"What's wrong, son?" "It's my legs, senor, cramps, and now I am without
medicine." The Priest could see the cramps, like knots of wood there
in the young legs, dark shiny black leg hairs.
"A few years ago I damaged myself in a bicycle race,
it was then that the cramps started." And now he has the leg cramps back
with compound junk interest. The old Priest stood there, feeling the boy
groan. He inclined his head as if in prayer, went back and got his dropper.
"It's just a quarter G, kid." "I do not require much, señor."
The boy was sleeping when the Priest left room eighteen.
He went back to his room and sat down on the bed.
Then it hit him like heavy silent snow. All the gray junk yesterdays.
He sat there received the immaculate fix. And since he was himself a priest,
there was no need to call one.
junkie selling Christmas seals on North Park Street.
The "Priest," they called him. "Fight tuberculosis, folks."
People hurried by, gray shadows on a distant wall.
It was getting late and no money to score.
He turned into a side street and the lake wind hit him like a knife.
Cab stop just ahead under a streetlight.
Boy got out with a suitcase. Thin kid in prep school clothes,
familiar face, the Priest told himself, watching from the doorway.
"Remindsme of something a long time ago." The boy, there, with his overcoat
unbuttoned, reaching into his pants pocket for the cab fare.
The cab drove away and turned the corner. The boy went inside
a building. "Hmm, yes, maybe" - the suitcase was there in the doorway.
The boy nowhere in sight. Gone to get the keys, most likely,
have to move fast. He picked up the suitcase and started for the corner.
Made it. Glanced down at the case. It didn't look like the case the boy had,
or any boy would have. The Priest couldn't put his finger on what was so
old about the case. Old and dirty, poor quality leather, and heavy.
Better see what's inside. He turned into Lincoln Park, found an
empty place and opened the case. Two severed human legs that belonged to
a young man with dark skin. Shiny black leg hairs glittered in the
dim streetlight. The legs had been forced into the case and he had to use
his knee on the back of the case to shove them out. "Legs, yet,"
he said, and walked quickly away with the case.
Might bring a few dollars to score. The buyer sniffed suspiciously.
"Kind of a funny smell about it." "It's just Mexican leather."
"Well, some joker didn't cure it."
The buyer looked at the case with cold disfavor.
"Not even right sure he killed it, whatever it is.
Three is the best I can do and it hurts. But since this is Christmas
and you're the Priest..." he slipped three bills under the table into the
Priest's dirty hand. The Priest faded into the street shadows, seedy
and furtive. Three cents didn't buy a bag, nothing less than a nickel.
Say, remember that old Addie croaker told me not to come back unless
I paid him the three cents I owe him. Yeah, isn't that a fruit for ya,
blow your stack about three lousy cents.
The doctor was not pleased to see him.
"Now, what do you WANT? I TOLD you!"
The Priest laid three bills on the table. The doctor put the
money in his pocket and started to scream.
"I've had TROUBLES! PEOPLE have been around!
I may lose my LICENSE!" The Priest just sat there, eyes, old and heavy with
years of junk, on the doctor's face.
"I can't write you a prescription." The doctor jerked open a drawer
and slid an ampule across the table. "That's all I have in the OFFICE!"
The doctor stood up. "Take it and GET OUT!" he screamed, hysterical.
The Priest's expression did not change.
The doctor added in quieter tones, "After all, I'm a professional man,
and I shouldn't be bothered by people like you."
"Is that all you have for me? One lousy quarter G? Couldn't you lend
me a nickel...?" "Get out, get out, I'll call the police I tell you."
"All right, doctor, I'm going." Of course it was cold and far to walk,
rooming house, a shabby street, room on the top floor.
"These stairs," coughed the Priest there, pulling himself up along the
bannister. He went into the bathroom, yellow wall panels,
toilet dripping, and got his works from under the washbasin.
Wrapped in brown paper, back to his room, get every drop in the dropper.
He rolled up his sleeve. Then he heard a groan from next door,
room eighteen. The Mexican kid lived there, the Priest had passed him on
the stairs and saw the kid was hooked, but he never spoke, because he
didn't want any juvenile connections, bad news in any language.
The Priest had had enough bad news in his life.
He heard the groan again, a groan he could feel, no mistaking that groan
and what it meant. "Maybe he had an accident or something.
In any case, I can't enjoy my priestly medications with that sound coming
through the wall." Thin walls you understand. The Priest put down his
dropper, cold hall, and knocked on the door of room eighteen.
"Quien es?" "It's the Preist, kid, I live next door."
He could hear someone hobbling across the floor.
A bolt slid. The boy stood there in his underwear shorts, eyes black with
pain. He started to fall. The Priest helped him over to the bed.
"What's wrong, son?" "It's my legs, senor, cramps, and now I am without
medicine." The Priest could see the cramps, like knots of wood there
in the young legs, dark shiny black leg hairs.
"A few years ago I damaged myself in a bicycle race,
it was then that the cramps started." And now he has the leg cramps back
with compound junk interest. The old Priest stood there, feeling the boy
groan. He inclined his head as if in prayer, went back and got his dropper.
"It's just a quarter G, kid." "I do not require much, señor."
The boy was sleeping when the Priest left room eighteen.
He went back to his room and sat down on the bed.
Then it hit him like heavy silent snow. All the gray junk yesterdays.
He sat there received the immaculate fix. And since he was himself a priest,
there was no need to call one.
Download track: http://www.mediafire.com/?uy6nzgtxtye
viernes, 21 de agosto de 2009
jueves, 20 de agosto de 2009
Asi fue Fragmentos y Sonidos en el claustro
Asi fue la presentación, todo un éxito gracias los q asistieron y los q no esperen la proxima, por comfirmar Lab Arte y Alameda y Eco
miércoles, 12 de agosto de 2009
viernes, 7 de agosto de 2009
jueves, 6 de agosto de 2009
Fragmentos y Sonidos
Proximo 18/08/09 U del Claustro de Sor Juana
La ciudad no solo es una construcción material, sino también una construcción
simbólica, que vive una constante reinterpretación de sus espacios y significados.
Es el escenario de encuentros con el pasado y la construcción del presente,
es una experiencia de todos los días, una especie de vértigo, una conjugación de
sonidos, lugares, personajes, vivencias, acciones que recrean la dinámica todos
días.
Esta exposición pretende que el espectador construya un dialogo con los sonidos
e imágenes de lo cotidiano, que se reencuentre con la ciudad y sus espacios
de una forma diferente, con la cual el encuentre nuevos matices y significados a
lo cotidiano que a veces se percibe como una rutina en el espacio y una rutina
frágil que ya no sorprende al habitante constructor del espacio.
Hay una relación entre los sujetos y el espacio que habitan, dentro de esa relación
se encuentran procesos de percepción, interpretación, significación, apropiación
e invención que tienen que ver con las necesidades de los diferentes
grupos que se encuentran insertos dentro de la ciudad, como lo es el Tianguis
Cultural del Chopo, la Glorieta de Insurgentes, las bajones traseros del metro,
entre otros se han construido y dotado de significado por parte de los grupos.
En esta exposición retomamos el aspecto del sonido como parte de la atmosfera
de la ciudad, como un lenguaje, producido por los objetos, construcciones,
ambiente, personas, produce reacciones y respuestas a esas provocaciones
sonaras. Aunque los sonidos sean sacados del sitio donde son producidos,
todos somos capaces de reconocerlos e ubicarlos en alguna parte de la ciudad.
martes, 4 de agosto de 2009
DOPAMINAFRINA:
Dopaminafrina: s. Sustancia que activa la parte creativa y experimental del cerebro por la cual pasan los procesos de percepción y construcción del entorno, que se le relacionan con la regulación de diversas funciones motoras, neuroendocrinas, motivacionales, efectivas, así como con el consumo de drogas altamente adictivas como la cocaína, las anfetaminas y otros psicoestimulantes. Es un estimulante cardíaco con efectos complejos sobre el corazón y los vasos sanguíneos, es concebida como uno de los neurotransmisores catecolaminérgicos mas importantes del Sistema Nervioso Central (SNC).
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