The timing of putting together this issue—our very first Artist Issue focused on Latin America and its diaspora—coincided with the end of 2022 and the beginning of 2023. The conversations that took place proved full of reflections on the past and musings on the future.
For our annual art-focused edition, we focused on Latin America and its vast diaspora. We cast our net wide, with full awareness that what follows is a small representation of the Latinx story, experience, and creativity. The process, ideas, and stories shared by artists, designers, and creators in these pages are just a small window. So while we don’t claim to cover it all, we offer just a taste of a thread we aim to continue to follow in future editorials. Carla Acevedo-Yates, the curator of the Caribbean-focused exhibition “Forecast Form” at MCA Chicago, said it best: To try and make sense of a region is a question that begets even more questions. That being said, we found several themes come up in conversation again and again.
One of those was weather. It was addressed directly—as in The Whitney’s “no existe un mundo poshuracán,” which looks at art made post–Hurricane Maria. And it was brought up more indirectly, like when Firelei Báez cited the parallel routes of weather patterns and the transatlantic slave trade.
Another was dreams—whether in the oneiric depictions by Antonio Obá or what organically comes out on canvas for Maria Klabin. The artists we spoke with had an overwhelming sense of self and a palpable connection to their own spirituality, which bled into their creative process and output.
Above all, we felt a strong tethering to place and environment, often leaning toward concern. Some artists—like Alfredo Jaar—create with a growing sense of urgency, alarmed by the deforestation they’ve witnessed locally and climate we’re all impacted by globally. Artist Solange Pessoa, having grown up in a mining town, has always seen the trail of human destruction in the name of production. Her sculptures in stone are meant to live in nature, gathering water in the rain, growing moss over time.
Our hearts were touched when speaking with Humberto Campana, who lost his brother Fernando late last year. The two had been working and designing together for decades, and, bittersweetly, their last show brought them back home, working in the clay of the remote town where they grew up watching movies and building their own imaginative sets. Humberto gave us an early look at Parque Campana, a new project of pavilions that offer a contemplative respite for peace, quiet, and solitude.
We’re excited to share all these rich conversations with you, planting the seeds this spring for a fruitful 2023. You can download the full issue HERE.
