| Tokio no necesita artistas conceptuales Homenaje a Yoko Ono / México /Abigail Maritxu Aranda Márquez
|
En México hay una expresión muy poco amable sobre la condición trans: "Ser mujer cuesta mucho, ser una mujer trans cuesta el doble". Tokio no necesita artistas conceptuales Homenaje a Yoko Ono. De las muchísimas obras de arte que he visto, una de las que más me impactó fue una pieza de Yoko Ono, porque ella es de las personas no- occidentales que estaban empujando los límites del arte en Nueva York, a inicios de la década de los 60.
In Mexico, there's a rather unkind expression about being trans: "Being a woman is hard, being a trans woman is twice as hard." Tokyo doesn't need conceptual artists. Homage to Yoko Ono. Of the many works of art I've seen, one that impacted me the most was a piece by Yoko Ono, because she was one of the non-Western artists who were pushing the boundaries of art in New York in the early 1960s. "In the work Cut Piece (1965), Ono knelt on the stage and invited members of the audience to come up and tear her clothes with scissors, covering her breasts with her hands as the garments fell away. Deconstructing the supposedly neutral subject/object relationship between the viewer and the artwork, Ono presented a situation in which the viewer became involved in the potentially aggressive act of undressing a passive body. Added to this were the gender aspects, since it was a female body. Cut Piece also highlights how the unconscious gaze has the potential to damage and even destroy the object upon which it rests." "The spectators cut away the parts of me they didn't like. In the end, only I remained, firm as a stone, but even that didn't satisfy them: they wanted to know what was inside that stone." (Yoko Ono, artist's comment, 1971) This was the text that illuminated the process of preparing my piece. In acts of sexual violence against women, clothing is always torn, ripped off; it's an obstacle to what the perpetrator intends to do. But unlike the violence perpetrated by men in Yoko Ono's performance, the people who engaged with the piece actually treated me as if I were a malleable doll. One of them cut off a lock of her hair and gave it to me. Another asked me to cut a piece off her sweatshirt. The audience imagined I was a doll they could stand up, sit down, blindfold, and cover up the most obvious nudity. Feeling their warmth and commitment to shaping a living sculpture was a very pleasant surprise. |
![]() |
![]() |
Abigail Maritxu Aranda Márquez (Oaxaca, 1957) Artivista, curadora, editora y Profesora Investigadora de tiempo completo en la Escuela Nacional de Pintura, Escultura y Grabado La Esmeralda, donde imparte las asignaturas de Teoría e Historia del Arte, así como el Taller de Producción de Moda, el Taller de Performance y el Taller de Cine. Estudió la Licenciatura de Letras Modernas (Inglesas) en la Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (1978 – 1982). Obtuvo la Licenciatura en Docencia de las Artes (2016 – 2018) en La Esmeralda en 2022. Artivista Trans se ha dedicado al performance desde 1993, con acciones en Oaxaca, la Ciudad de México, Dublín, Irlanda y fue invitada a participar en la V Bienal de Bucamaranga, Colombia en 2019 y ha comenzado a explorar su nueva identidad como mujer trans desde la escritura, la escultura, la moda, la actuación y el arte acción y ahora la edición de libros de poesía. Autora del libro El cerillo que nunca se apaga (2018) y Esclava del Deseo (2023) Ha participado en dos exposiciones individuales y 18 colectivas en la Ciudad de México, Oaxaca y Durango. Su obra fotográfica Mi Intimidad fue censurada en la Cámara de Senadores (2022) |