Raising one’s voice
An e-mail from Pablo [translated from Spanish]: “I don’t know if something for Ràdio Web MACBA could make any sense, Anna.” A few days later, Manuel Sanfuentes, Marcelo Araya and Andrés Garcés came to the museum and together we assessed the tensions generated by our technical and logistical limitations of doing interviews one by one, when what we represented was a lived, collective and horizontal experience. A week later, we met up with Antonio Gagliano and Linda Valdés, and Manuel Sanfuentes took us on a journey on foot around Amereida, to Ciudad Abierta, in Chile, a vast expanse of dunes, estuaries and gorges bordering on the Pacific Ocean, from which a series of experimental, imagined and collaboratively-built constructions jutted out. We followed the trail of little stones that Manuel subtly left on the path and then turned the map round 180º in order to cross the American continent, based on the kind of poetic gesture that had inspired the Valparaíso school. With Antonio, it was clear to us that it had to be the text entitled “Amereida”, Ciudad Abierta’s foundational collective poem, the one that crossed the blotches of honey that Manuel had left on the folds of our ears. We brought María Salgado into the debate to select and read the snippets. As generous and sharp as ever, she pointed out that too much was missed in this new South-to-North movement. We asked the collective to re-read “Amereida” aloud, more than 50 years later. The year changed on the calendar and Manuel got back to us saying that it was too complicated to organise it from there. Linda, who brought us the project and had been at the school, read the “Amereida” fragments. When it ended, after an hour and a half of repetitions, she commented: “it would have been nice to try it in a raised voice. That’s the way I remember it from the assemblies.” “Amereida”, a collective poem, re-read in a raised voice. That was it.