Recovecos I
2019

Lisa Croner
Giuliana Funkhouser
Svetlana Gayshan
Jeff Maylath
Lexygius Sanchez Calip
Samuel de Lemos
Blanca Bercial

Recovecos is the Spanish word for nooks, hidden places, and hideouts. Recovecos aims to bring wordsin place to reverberate their messages further than a hidden corner can sustain. To reclaim words place in the arts, to be shown, to be shared, and finally, to be heard.
This project started in the summer of 2019, and has continued with Recovecos II and III. Every exhibition is a different conversation between artists that play with the duality of language, with the texts that intermingle in our everyday life, and with the postmodern clarity of meaning with words. Curated by Blanca Bercial and Samuel De Lemos, Recovecos is an ongoing project, where the expectations are left to the possibilities of language and the discourse that flow from artists works in conversation.

Recovecos II
2020

Jeff Maylath
Lexygius Sanchez Calip
Liu Sang Chi
Miles Stemp
Shao Yan
Samuel de Lemos
Blanca Bercial

Recovecos III
2020

Tamara Khasanova
Jeff Maylath
Lexygius Sanchez Calip
Miles Stemp
Christian Tan
Zhang Mengjiao
Samuel de Lemos
Blanca Bercial

Handle with Care / 2020 Pins, nails, fishing hooks, fabric, metal wire

Handle with Care / 2020
Typewriter on petals

Anne Bremer Memorial Library’s 37th Artists’ Book Contest Award



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Trash poems / 2019

Shredded poems in a jar
Anne Bremer Memorial Library’s 36th Artists’ Book Contest Award

I’ve been taking photos in the streets of San Francisco from 2017
I wrote a poem for every one of them
Photos and poems inhabit this jar as TRASH
Their subjects inhabit the streets
Day after day
Living and non-living inhabit the unseen 

Bestiario / 2020
Typewriter on mylar
From Poetry as a Critical Form

How can poetry be translated from one language to another without losing its essence? For this project I have translated Julio Cortázar's first short stories book Bestiario, words filled with metaphors that transcend the ordinary of their appearance to deeper existential and sociopolitical questions. Bestiario consists of 8 short stories narrating monstruos appearances in the daily life of different people. The monsters and the stories in the book are metaphors for the quotidian of the everyday and from the writer's personal and historical context. Their complexity can only be translated with simple acts, and in an effort to translate the untranslatable, I have translated the eight stories to symbol-based poems. Each pair of symbol-texts are a signifier of one story.

We can’t talk all at once / 2020
Typewriter on paper, video
 

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Sound Poems Series


Silence / 2020
Typewriter on paper

T con ruido / 2020
Typewriter on paper

Poetry reading performance / 2020
Typewriter on paper

Patching sound / 2020
Typewriter on paper
Ulises Carrión se olvidó del plin / 2020
Typewriter on paper

Concrete Poems Series


Line Alphabet / 2020
Typewriter on Mylar

Silence in Line Alphabet / 2020
Typewriter on Mylar

Respuesta a Aritmética de Ulises Carrión / 2020
Typewriter on paper
Universal / 2019
Digital typewriter

Interstices / 2019
Typewriter on paper, origami folding

Air Poems Series


What is gone / 2020 Typewriter on rice paper

Untimed  / 2020
Clock mechanism, acrylic plastic, fishing line
From Photography Without Camera / Machine Gaze


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Present / 2019
invisible ink on white wall, UV flashlight
From Recovecos II


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This is Okay / 2019
Tape on wall
Two-side mirror
Collaboration with Lexygius Sanchez Calip
From Mistranslation

Holes of Speech / 2019
galvanized steel sheet


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holes of speech / 2019
4’18’’
Voice narrating Julio Cortazar’s Me caigo y me levanto poem in Golden Gate park, in-betweness-ness environmental sounds reverberations and echoes
From ...

Pauses in spoken language were never silent but mute. These pauses contain all the ambient sounds that immerse diction within a soundscape. On the other hand, written language pauses have names but not sound.
How does an ellipsis sound?
How do we pronounce a word made of punctuations marks? 

In Holes of Speech, I recorded the sound of my voice reading a poem of Julio Cortázar in a tunnel of Golden Gate Park. Afterwards, I listened to the sounds in-between words, the pauses, the punctuation marks. These silences contain sounds yet we never grasp them.
For that, I made a composition of those sounds in-between my voice.
This sound installation contains punctuation marks sounded and augmented, distributed to conform new words.

Vernissage / 2020
San Francisco Art Institute
Artist Statement

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Not cages / 2020
Galvanized steel wire

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Self Care, Health Care, Dental Care, Skin Care, Life Care, Don’t Care, Care Taker, Care Plan, Personal Care, Hair Care, Primary Care, Child Care, Palliative Care, Critical Care, Take Care, Give Care...

Living in San Francisco, I have heard phrases containing the word ‘care’ countless times, to the point that I started questioning if the word has lost its meaning from extreme use. Care, like barbed wire, only hurts if we are close enough to handle it. 
Who cares? Who really cares when we say we ‘care’? 
To care is to be hurt. Yet, the closer we get to the unknown, the more we care.

Stiffness can’t stop the water / 2020 Single channel video Collaboration with Lexygius Sanchez Calip

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Obra parte de la exposición Photography Without Camera II. ¿Cómo podríamos fotografiar sin cámaras? ¿Cómo ejercemos una función fotográfica entre nosotros? Ouroboros presenta un loop infinito de fotografías en un abrir y cerrar de ojos. El ojo está tomando fotografías constantemente,una narración de memorias fotográficas. Cada vez que mi ojo se cierra, tomo una fotografía de la persona que está mirando el vídeo, que a su vez, toma fotografías de mi ojo al mirarlo con los suyos, ambos nos encontramos en un uroboros fotográfico, en una fotografía constante.

How could we take photographs without a camera? How do we photograph each other?