Catártica: August '21

August 2021

No. 2

Vol. 8

C Catharsis can be understood as a process of

purificación and emotional, mental, and spiritual freedom. Its origins are attributed to Greece, where Aristotle made use of the word to explain the sensation of the souls being cleaned after watching the Greek tragedies. The cathartic method is the one used to elevate the emotion and beyond that, the liberation of it. It is curious to think about artworks as part of the cathartic method. Who hasn't cried, shivered, been angry at an artwork? Catártica is born as a project to explore, experiment, discover at the maximum, our capacity to feel through art.

ς ι σ

a a K K -

i s s i s r s r á á h h tt

κάθαρ

Cover: Tamayo, R. (1973) Two Faces. [Lithography]

é éu s s uq o o q y m o y s o s m

u i é Q u i é Q ne ¿ n ¿ es s

q q u u ?s ? e so e r om r m

w we are a group of students of different

disciplines with the ambition of carrying art to anyone who needs it. With the desperation of making us understand and heard in this world with so much noise, Catártica allows us to have a voice behind tinted letters, having speeches that although they are monologues, open the dialogue in the student’s community and field professionals, and especially reach everyone who ignores, wants to know and feels ready to read voices with contrasting opinions. In a nutshell, Catártica is our tool to make us understand and communicate our sensible and affective relationship with our world.

Tamayo, R. (1954), Sol y Luna [vinelita sobre lienzo]

Rufino Rufino Tamayo's Tamayo's Birthday Birthday 25 25 August August 1899 1899 - 24 24 June June 1991 1991

El El Séptimo Séptimo Arte Arte

Howl's Moving Castle

Arts Arts 101 101

It will continue to grow, except at this point

Crónicas Crónicas de de Marte Marte

Live your life and be happy

Catalogarte Catalogarte

Jimboy

Rufino del Carmen Arellanes Tamayo, Mexican painter, whose production and presence developed in a greater way during the 20th century. He and his production have been studied and recognized internationally, described as “a painter of Mexican depths, he is a painter who does not necessarily paint scenes of folklore or costumbristas or indigenistas, but rather does it from there, from being himself, a people who take on their heritage and then enrich it, put them in a dialogue with tremendously sophisticated things, such as Matisse, Picasso, Miró, with all the international avant-garde ”.

Juan Carlos Pereda, Deputy Director of Curatorship of the Tamayo Contemporary Art Museum

Rincón Rincón de de los los Poemas Poemas

Views and visits

Noche,Derroche, Noche,Derroche,

Nochera Nochera

Girl

Ambulantes Ambulantes

Tanatocapitalism

Tamayo, R. (1946), Heavenly bodies [vinelita over cloth]

HOW HOW

This month I wanted to take the opportunity to test myself by writing outside of my comfort zone. El Séptimo Arte has given me a space to speak from another point of writing, so I will take the place for a volume.

Do not take me wrong, I took a year of Language of Cinema but not even all the forces in the world made me good at writing movie critique, so this essay could be everything, except a critique.

Perhaps an appreciation essay. You will definitely be able to notice the change in wording, and a totally different voice, however, I promise you that this cinephile mic will be back on its regular schedule next month.

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MOVING MOVING

M. I. Flore

WL'S WL'S

G CASTLE CASTLE

es Nachón

Let's talk about The Incredible Moving Castle (2004) by the incredible Studios Ghibli. Although it is an adaptation of the homonymous novel by the writer Diana Wynne Jones, my recommendation would be the usual: the novel and the film are two different products, by different eyes, different hands, different minds.

Just as each conductor directs musicians differently, writers and directors conduct differently. Having made the above parenthesis clear, I will analyze the film in the same way that I would analyze a pictorial work

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I The first step will be to describe the movie. Howl's Moving Castle is a Japanese animated film created

by Studio Ghibli, produced by Toshio Suzuki and directed by Hayao Miyazaki. The feature film fits into the anime category, due to its characteristics in terms of the style of the drawings and with them as a tool, it tells the story of Sophie Hatter, a milliner from Ingary who throughout her eighteen years has never felt worthy, beautiful or intelligent, living under the shadow of her own mind, she runs into Howl Pendragon, a sorcerer who has been a legend for "stealing and eating the hearts of beautiful girls."

Sophie, reassured that she will never be Howl's victim for lacking the beauty he seeks, continues with her day, until she receives a visit from the Witch of the Waste, who bewitches her with a spell she cannot speak of. Sophie's physique is strongly altered, which will give a 180º change to her attitude and low self-esteem.

Sophie's adventures throughout the film will make her cross paths with the dark wizard Howl Pendragon / Jenkins in the middle

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of a mysterious and unjust magical war. The film focuses on a constant journey that explores selfdiscovery, love, envy, abuse of power, and true magic. Throughout the story, we find ourselves involved in a metamorphosis of each of the characters, a coming of age, without really being one.

Sophie matures hand in hand with Howl and the Witch of the Waste herself, each faced with each other, weighing the heaviness of their demons and hearts.

Visually the film is, without the intention of falling into dichotomies, wonderful.

Each frame fits perfectly with the previous one and the next, creating a series of unstoppable and fluid moments, with an excellent handling of the corporality of its characters, the first, second and third shots, and even the shadows that shape the personality and the attitude of its protagonists, to create a perfect setting. On the other hand, I would love to mention the link to surrealism, starting with one of the protagonists of the film:

The Incredible Moving Castle, which beyond being an element, I consider to be a fundamental character for the development of each of the other characters that relate to it. On the other hand, there will be characters such as Turnip Head and events such as the ring and time travel that will be, beyond aesthetically surreal, elements taken from dreamlike scenarios and fantasy that could refer and connect with each one of us as viewers.

The musical direction of the film is just the icing on the cake. Composer Joe Hisaishi has produced more than once music for Studios Ghibli films, which are widely famous just for their musical score. Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, and in this case Howl’s Moving Castle do not escape applause and standing ovations. The theme songs, specifically Merry Go-Round, The Boy Who Swallowed a Star and Flower Garden are tools that will keep the movie alive for eternity, living in our minds and ears, reminding us of a world, fanciful and melodious, that we can probably reach only in our dreams, or in the warmth of the fireplace in our house.

As for my judgment of the film, I consider that the more times I watch it, I find a character that permeates my home. A thousand times I have felt old, a thousand times I have felt ugly, a thousand times I have felt undeserving. I have fought with my inner demons, taking refuge in a constant journey in the palaces and castles of my memory. My heart has felt heavy and it has burned me. The movie allows me to find myself in a safe place that I know will never change. Feeling that I have found, I share with other fans of it. In a world drowned in noise, disease and death, I would like to live among shooting stars and eternal flower gardens.

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Penone, G. (1968), Continuerá a crescere tranne in quel punto, [intervención a árbol]

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CONTINUERÁ CONTINUERÁ A A CRESCERE CRESCERE TRANNE TRANNE IN IN

QUEL QUEL PUNTO PUNTO (1968) (1968)

IT IT WILL WILL CONTINUE CONTINUE TO TO GROW, GROW, EXCEPT EXCEPT AT AT THIS THIS POINT POINT

M. I. Flores Nachón Arte Povera is undoubtedly one of the most questioned artistic manifestations in the discourse of Art History. Questioned in the sense in which its poor essence - as the name in Italian refers to - breaks with the noble character of Art, with a capital letter, the art of wealth. Arte Povera is the opportunity to look back and remember the true relationship with the work of art, the aesthetic experience based on the work as a vehicle of message, not of beauty.

Art never tried to be beautiful, until it was forced to.

In this case, I would like to take a moment to talk about Giusseppe Penone (1947-), an important exponent of art based on poverty. Born in Garessio, Italy, he studied Sculpture at the Alberttina Academy in Turin. As an artist, he was opposed to academic art and sculpture, arguing that his reality does not allow him to produce pieces that are close to the institutionally accepted. His reality was in the woods of Garessio. Through his understanding of the natural process and its memory mechanisms, he proceeded to intervene in the growth of living things.

Which we can see exactly in Continuerá a crescere tranne in quel punto and the rest of his work in the series Alpi Marittimi (1968). By conditioning trees to grow in a certain way, he challenges nature to continue the art-natural process, ironically, he de-naturalize in order to re-naturalize. He gives the artnature relationship a new conceptual point of view, allowing nature to be the artist of its own pieces. It is a work of art, a sculpture and an environmental intervention, consisting of a steel cast of Penone's hand and forearm, clinging to the trunk of a young tree. What we can really see from this is the photographic documentation of the natural process that is part of art.

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Giusseppe Penone used nature in the form of trees, his own body cast in steel and the action of manipulating natural processes.

It would be important to highlight the contrast between the materials used: the raw texture of the tree, which is immediately interrupted by the smoothness of the steel of the hand, probably meaning something more than what it appears.

Continuerá a crescere tranne in quel punto is witness and testimony of the passage of time and the manipulation of nature through this passage, it speaks of the impact and impression that a human life can and will have on a natural process. Reminding us, like a work of art, the ecological footprint that we cause with our mere presence. In the same way, Penone plays with said passage of time, knowing that it will be a primary factor in the realization of the piece. Through the intervention of the cultivation of young trees, he produces a new reflection and a new relationship between art, the artist, nature and the viewer.

Penone's work, and in particular Continuerá a crescere tranne in quel punto en 1968, marks a new guideline in the History of Art, in which time and nature will be the artist and the human being will participate as one more tool in his process. It is an opening before the door to bioart, allowing the involvement of life, of living beings in art, breaking a border between what art was supposed to be - as an object of cultural and economic value according to the academic tradition. - and what art was going to be in the future.

Although it is true that art cannot be judged in a constant dichotomy, I would say that Giusseppe Penone through Continuerá a crescere tranne in quel punto, creates a rupture, in which the History of Art will not stop growing without exceptions at no point.

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Live your life and be happy There are so many things I could write. A blank page is like seeing the sea from the shore. You have to walk in, and walk in, and get soaked and feel the cold and fear the vastness and swim without touching the sand and under the waves. I am fascinated by the sea. I talk about it all the time. One month that I don't feel like writing, I'm going to look for the metaphors of water in each past piece of writing. I love it. It is also one of those things that you don’t get tired o,f because you go every so often. Whenever I go to the sea I ask the people there if they like to go to the beach. Yes, but I don't have much time. Yes, oftenly.

And when was the last time you went. Well, time ago. It nonsense to me. Of the good, little, is the idea that justifies this madness. I can't find any reason to save the best of life for last, for tomorrow, for later. The best thing in my life is invariably this moment, and the time that I am not an actor but part of the audience I occupy to think, I occupy to listen. Or I use it to realize that I am wasting my time. And it still works for something.

I wish my dad was dead. Really dead, not like now, sitting in front of the TV, and the rest of the day sitting somewhere else, with no more bright in his eyes than the reflection of the sun. Life energy can run totally down. Do not ask me where it is, where it hides, in what corner of the body. In Breaking Bad there is a scene in which they add up all the chemical elements that make up the body, and come to the conclusion that it is close to one hundred percent, but it doesn't get there. What is missing, then? Maybe what we are.

You are a soul, you have a body. Not the other way around. That is, you are not a body that has a soul. You are a soul, you have a body. You are a soul, you have a body. We are something elusive, immaterial, odorless, colorless, tasteless, almost negligible. And in that tiny existence we are everything at the same time. Is incredible.

I would like to be a child of time. María Galindo would like to forget herself: may god be an orphan, without a mother or a virgin I no longer want to be the virgin Barbie […]

Forget my virgin condition Forget my condition of beautiful, white and virtuous That behind me capitalism collapses and loses even the gods and virgins that sustain it That behind me the racism and the [white color that supports it May the wombs of white women give birth [brunette daughters That brunettes have blond children

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And that love and pleasure mix us and mix us [and mix us Until all the noble lines are diluted, of patrons [and owners of the world I don't want to be the mother of god, of that civilized and conquering white god may god be an orphan, without a mother or a virgin Let the altars remain empty And the pulpits I leave this altar of mine I abandon it by free decision I'm leaving, I leave it empty I want to live […]

I have discovered that to be happy you just have to give up your privileges to your virtues and perfections I proclaim the uselessness of privileges the sadness of the altars the death of capitalism.

I wish I could only be the son of my mother, my fucking mother, I wish I could live in limbo and see everything from above, be ethereal, lack origin, direction and purpose, stroll through the alleys of the center, through the carriages of the meter, be judge and witness at the same time. I wish my dad was dead, very dead, buried. My dad died a while ago. I do not know when. I only know that he resists living, sees a spark ignite and walks away. It is the closed door of a house in ruins. I don't hate my dad, I want that to be clear. I don't feel sorry for him either. But I know, with the damn conscience of which I am a slave, that in his life there is no more. There is another poem, from Bukowski, that talks about that as I will never be able to. we are always asked to understand the other person's viewpoint no matter how outdated foolish or obnoxious. one is asked to view their total error their life-waste

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with kindliness, especially if they are aged. but age is the total of our doing. they have aged badly because they have lived out of focus, they have refused to see. not their fault? whose fault? mine?

I am asked to hide my viewpoint from them for fear of their fear. age is no crime but the shame of a deliberately wasted life among so many deliberately wasted lives is.

How much life wasted. There is a voice that speaks to you from time to time and tells you things that no one else knows. There are signs, flashes, supposed coincidences, there are lights on the road and you have to walk. There are people who get up every day and waste their time. This is not a sermon, more like of a reminder. Don't waste time living someone else's life, or watching someone else's life, or saving yours for later. In the end, if someone asks me, and one day they will, for advice, I will say the same as Bolaño: live and be happy.

Fernando Salas 14

JIMBOY JIMBOY

Gonzalo García I started photography as a hobby during high school, when I entered college it became my biggest passion. I can say that I have been able to find myself in photography and in portraits, which helped me to relate to people and to express all those things that I could not with only words.

Now 5 years after starting in this, I begin a new stage, in which I seek to capture many ideas in a single image, through collages and interventions in analog and digital photos.

Jimboy is my upcoming project where I want to portray the combination of my personal passions: the specific style Puebla skate culture has given me, the semi-editorial photography dyes and, most importantly, the intervention of digital with analog.

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VISTAS VISTAS Y Y VISITAS VISITAS

M. There's something funny about the windows and it is not necessarily what there is behind But where it takes me Is it a hole?

Is it a window?

Is it a portal to see a widow?

Is it a mouse's nest?

I think the window is a spaceship that tastes like earth, or salt, or mist.

It tastes like whatever it is that is behind.

I think the window is a car that leads to a lake, or a park, or to another window in another house.

It leads me to the laughter of children Playing in the backyard, to the raptured childhood from the time that escapes Through that fracture.

The window leads me to myself to a reflection in transparency with brown eyes with more liquid transparencies.

Leads to face myself To me yelling at me To me hating me To me getting away from me.

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Tamayo, R. (1972), Moon Dog, [gráfica]

GIRL: GIRL: I've been sad girl, And I would like you to know I would like you to know many things, I would like to tell you everything as before, but those days passed, girl and I finally understood that.

The days went by, girl but I keep thinking of you, and I look for you when I see wide backs with short necks, or black curls with smiles gifted ... when I don't want to look for you, girl I'm still looking You're into the music girl you are into ballads from a hundred years ago.

You are in the cinema, and that's why sometimes I cry in the movies.

You're in the art, girl and that's why sometimes I cry in museums.

I did not cry when my grandfather died, girl, and I do not know what you have, But just when I don't want to cry I cry and when I want to smile, I cry.

I want to smile girl even if it is no longer with you.

That's why I've been trying to make myself smile, girl that's why I've been looking for more smiles between other lips, That's why I've been painting myself happy, girl, painting myself happy in my sad paintings

Azul. @cincopoetas

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m ms siilla at tiip pa ac co ot ta an na aT T

Oh life, you don't deserve me !

Michel Cardenas Mendoza Tamayo, R. (1950), Man before infinity

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DEAR DEAR AUTHOR, AUTHOR,

If you are interested in publishing with us, take into account the following: 1. All texts and artworks must be sent to the Catártica official email 2. Every text received will be checked by the Catártica team.

3. If the editor considers it, changes will be made on the text, always respecting the authors original voice.

4. If you consider translating your own text into Spanish you can do so, our translators will check the process.

5. The texts and works must be sent in the following format Microsoft Word Arial 12 pts Margins superior and inferior must be 2.5 cm and 3 cm on the sides Images and illustrations should be cited in APA and sent in JPG or PNG

@catarticarevista

@catarticarevista catarticarevista@outlook.com catarticarevista@gmail.com

Magazine Director María Inés Flores Nachón @notae_stethicallypleasing maines_flores@live.com Cover Desing Antonella Guagnelli Cuspinera @antonella_gc antonella.guagnelli@gmail.com Editor Fernanda Loutfe Orozco @ferorozco ferlorozco@hotmail.com Editorial design Junuen Caballero Soto @junuencaballero junuen.caballero@gmail.com Publicity Lucero Solís Tellez @lust_tsul lucero.sol.tel@icloud.com María Inés Flores Nachón @notae_stethicallypleasing maines_flores@live.com El Séptimo Arte Lucero Solís Tellez @lust_tsul lucero.sol.tel@icloud.com Arts 101 María Inés Flores Nachón @notae_stethicallypleasing maines_flores@live.com Crónicas de Marte Luis Fernando Salas Ramírez @fersalasrz luis.salasrz@udlap.mx Catalogarte Rossanna Huerta Romero @rosehro rossanna.huertaro@udlap.mx

Noche, Derroche, Nochera Alejandro Domínguez Nieto @hermann_cheesse alejandro.dominguezno@gmail.com Rincón de los poemas Sandra S. Smithers sandysmthrs smithersgr@gmail.com Ambulantes: Interviews Diana Carolina Gomez Ortiz @dcgo98 diana.gomezoz@udlap.mx Translators Ana Delia Castillo González @anna_2121 Claudine Gabriela Aguilar Encinas @gabe.docx Glosario Catártica Emma Patricia Zamudio Salas @emma.zamudio.92 emma.zamudioss@udlap.mx Spotify Diana Carolina Gomez Ortiz @dcgo98 diana.gomezoz@udlap.mx