The evil genius, the fallen angel, the spirit of evil, Lucifer, also known as the Lucifer of Liège, is a white marble sculpture by the Belgian artist Guillaume Geefs (1805 1883) that stands in an open niche in the Cathedral of St. Paul at Belgium, Liège.
The work commission was originally given to Guillaume's brother, Joseph Geefs (1808 1885), who made the sculpture in marble and delivered it in 1842 but once installed in the cathedral, it proved to be more imposing than expected, the congregation considered it too sublime, attractive, and that rather than encouraging reflection it was a distraction for the people, so it was decided to remove the sculpture and make a second commission to Guillaume, who would deliver the new Lucifer's version in 1848
The sculpture's main theme was to reflect the triumph of religion over evil, so the iconography of the piece had to convey both the identity of the character and the struggle and defeat of evil. Thus, the problem with Joseph's Lucifer, in addition to his near nudity, the composition game of the wings' arches framing the torso and the graceful serpentine curve from waist to hip, and the serpent coiling between the base and legs of the figure, was that the gaze of the fallen angel rested directly on the viewer. All these elements made it clear that the character was Lucifer, but not exactly that religion had triumphed, or so it was believed by Bishop Corneille van Bommel (1790 1852), who ordered the removal of the sculpture and gave his suggestions for the second version.
This is why the sculpture of Guillaume G fs, despite following a composition similar to that of his brother, highlights Lucifer's iconography by including an apple with bite marks, a broken scepter, with an astral motif at the top referring to Lucifer as the morning star, elongated nails or claws that cover his toes and a shackle on his right ankle chaining him to the ground. Also, he adds a larger cloak that hangs behind the right shoulder and covers both the hips and part of the legs, which give way to the knees that take a closed angle instead of an open one
The most obvious difference is the right arm position, which now raises above the head and allows the artist to turn the head slightly so that Lucifer´s view direction can change, the horns that are hidden in his hair can be appreciated, and overall, the sculpture can give a sense of repentance or evasion, unlike the frontality that the first one had.
Finally, whether such changes removed how seductive or sublime the pieces were considered, seems a matter of perspective or individual perception, but what is certain is that in both we can see the great conceptual and manual work of the Geefs brothers.
Geefs, G (1848), Le génie du mal, white marble, St. Paul's Cathedral, Liège.
Rossana Huerta
I love anime, it's my guilty not so guilty pleasure. You can find a little bit of everything, series to cry, laugh, and get inspired, reason why it has become a worldwide phenomenon; and yes, I was one of the nerdy ones who wore a Naruto band during high school. I'm thankful for that awkward twinge age stage as I was able to focus much of the knowledge I gained from my college career on something I enjoy and is not so academically studied A rather curious rabbit hole about the role of women in shounen anime, talking specifically about Bleach, which I wanted to share with you.
Animation for girls aand teenagers
Specialized demographics for children and teenage boys
Anime for 18+ years old women
Not necessarily erotic themed, they also deal with serious issues or daily life.
Anime for 18+ years old women
Typically more violent, bloody, and edgy themes
Beginning with the categories, we cannot judge all anime with the same rule, each main genre specializes in an audience and its needs. For this reason, we can see anime for children where time is spent on teaching community values, mathematics, and socialization, up to psychological anime that plays a cathartic role for the author and its psychological illnesses.
Before I carry on, I must say that just because the categories are in a female male binary system it doesn't mean that the rules and genders can't be broken. It's just a simplified take on the existing topics.
Shounen is considered to be the most prominent genre, in other words, the one which stands out above the rest. However, the representation of female characters is minimal if not nonexistent. That is where the stereotypes and vulgar representations that are formed in their characters fall, and as a consumer of this cultural product the only thing that generates in me is repulsion. I cannot see myself reflected in their female characters, it makes me feel infantilized, sexualized, and belittled.
I have been able to associate the problem with their culture and way of seeing the world, this does not mean that it is the root of the problem, but it is one of the many Hydra´s heads, being the culture of honor and masculinity.
Going back in time, during the Edo Period (XVII XIX), several philosophical lines that define the Japanese social structure were developed, one of these the philosophy of Confucius, specifically the Manual of the woman or Onna daigaku, where he defines the space of women to the private, unable to fend for themselves and, therefore, subordinate and dependent on any male figure that is present, whether the father, husband or son (Higueras, 2009).
Although not all women lived by these teachings, they were fixed in the imaginary. There are great influences of the code of ethics of the Samurai and Bushido which exalts the values associated with the masculine such as courage, bravery, and mastery of martial arts- in this new aspect of Confucianism, this impacted the situation of women because they were excluded from all activities related to the above. However, Japanese culture in the Edo Period has a couple of different characteristics in terms of the activities associated with women Manual labor was subordinated to motherhood, child rearing, and housework, so it was considered normal for a woman to work either in the fields or in predominantly rural manufacturing in sectors such as textiles, ceramics, and food.
Teppōzu and Tsukiji Hongan ji temple in autumn. One Hundred Views of Edo, Utagawa Hiroshige.
Summer storm over Shin Ōhashi Bridge and Atake. One Hundred Views of Edo, Utagawa Hiroshige.
However, in the Meiji Period (1868 1912), a social, economic, and political change took place as Japan began to copy Western models of life, but without forgetting the Samurai narrative that had been imposing itself on Japanese culture for years before. A phrase often repeated by the government referring to Japan's new way of living was: "Western technology, Japanese spirit". The ideology of the "good wife" and the "wise mother" was promoted, so there was a separation of gender roles: men should be the ones who had to work and bring sustenance to the home, women should take care of their husbands, their children, their in laws, and the home. The reality for many others was very different from the ideal, especially for women outside the city. Those in the countryside continued to do manual labor in factories and fields.
Now, in the Shōwa Era (1926 1989), after Japan participated in World War II, there is slight independence for women At the same time, the Japanese market began to understand the importance of offering new products for women. Little by little, women were taking a step into Japanese public society and were no longer confined to the home. Even so, today, despite legislative attempts by the government to promote women ' s economic activity, the gender gap is still abysmal.
Their wage gap is 24.5% compared to their male counterparts, and they are usually hired irregularly, therefore they are not allowed to build seniority, rise to high positions, or have a fixed salary. Their gender gap is also based on Confucian beliefs.
This segregation forces women to seek jobs or specialize in human services but not to excel in their profession Rarely will you see a woman in the fields of engineering, economics, or the law (Higueras, 2009; Itoh, 2014; Yamaguchi, 2019). Although Japanese women have taken a huge step forward within the social environment, there are still major disadvantages. This situation is even represented in manga and anime in the most famous series; women will usually be relegated to a secondary character, and in animations focused on children and teenagers repeatedly portrayed as the romantic interest of the main character.
The Great Wave off Kanawaga by Hokusai Katsushika The Meiji Restoration and the establishment of the Modern State A Woman of the Showa Era, by Kamimura KazuoAnd we ' ve come to the subject of examinati Bleach. Created by Tite Kubo, this is the story a 15 year old boy named Ichigo Kurosaki w can interact with ghosts. One day, a girl dress as a samurai enters his life, she is Rukia Kuch a God of Death. Her job is to seek out and se the souls of good ghosts to heaven and elimin corrupted souls. Throughout the story, adventures and battles he and his friends through, are narrated as they all develop th supernatural abilities.
This is where we see 3 types of depictions that are seen in almost every other shonen anime All of them fall into the over sexualization of women, either explicitly or implicitly. According to Miguel Angel Muro: "the iconic figure of the body can fulfill the function that the proper name plays in the narrative, as the nucleus on which the reference that constitutes the character is made". (2004, pp.199 200).
Within the same category of docile women are also found: Nemu Kurotsuchi, Rangiku Matsumoto, Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, Isane Kotetsu, Yuzu Kurosaki, etc. Therefore, with the first female character analyzed, we can see a hyper feminine and hyper sexualized stereotype of submissive women.
That is why the image is so important, the physical appearance of an individual is intrinsically related to his narrative functions, his position in the story, and the construction of his personality. For example, the case of the first hyper sexualized female character, Orihime Inoue She is a teenage girl with ultradeveloped breasts and a very submissive personality. She is the first female personality stereotype we see in the series: the docile, naive bordering on clumsy woman with hyper feminine and hyper sexualized characteristics.
Her story, in most of the series, is linked to the protagonist Ichigo Kurosaki and her dependence on him. The characteristics of her powers are also subordinated to a secondary role: creating force fields and healing wounds. Even if we analyze the meaning of the name given to her power, Shun Shun Rika, we can still observe an association with the feminine. Shun Shun Rika means "six flowers of the hibiscus shield" although it can also be interpreted as "Six protective flower princesses"
Secondly, Rukia Kuchiki seems to escape from the stereotype that Orihime and the other women fall into. Unlike them, Rukia represents empowerment, seriousness, and discipline. Her backstory is particular because of all the references to traditional Japanese life the writer includes.
She comes from a traditional Japanese home where she is mistreated by her "brother" so, to make him proud she tries to excel in all activities to become a Shinigami. Compared to Orihime, her body appears to be that of a boy but with very fine features, that is, almost androgynous. She doesn't show this hyper sexualization as the previous characters, on the contrary, she approaches the ideals of the traditional Japanese
Although she shows independence and dominance over his docile female companions. She is cold, rough, and lonely. And even though we may hope for a strong female character with a complex and independent history, this is not the case with the second stereotype that Rukia Kuchiki represents. She remains dependent on a male character, whether it's her brother by seeking his approval or her friend Ichigo who saves her from extremely dangerous situations. the case of Rukia Kuchiki is almost unreal because even though she could be considered a strong character, her story it's a variation of the princess who needs to be rescued. Other characters in the series that fall into this category are Riruka Dokugamine, Karin Kurosaki, Kiyone Kotetsu, Nanao Ise, Cirucci Sanderwicci, Hiyori Sarugaki, and others.
The last women stereotype seen in the series is the least seen. Almost no female character falls into this category as it moves away from the psychological idealization of women. is an intelligent, strong, responsible woman, without the need for a male companion to validate her strength Yoruichi Shihōin is the exact example of this stereotype Confident in herself and her abilities, and although she has friendly relationships with male characters, there is no dependence on them.
The curious thing about the case of the women in this category is that there is almost no development of her story or the progression of her abilities, she is presented to us as an already accomplished character, she is the master. For this same reason she is only given a slight protagonism, depending on the situation, to demonstrate her skills, teach or save the main hero Ichigo Kurosaki . In this category, the body image is more varied, from hypersexualized women, and women with androgynous features to overweight women. Women in the series who fall into this category are Retsu Unohana, Suì Fēng, Tier Harribel, and Kirio Hikifune, among others.
RETSU UNOHANA SU - FENG TIER HERRIBEL
Throughout this research, we observed two main variants in the iconography of women: hypersexualization and androgyny. Nevertheless, an aesthetic line is followed where none of the women presented are "ugly", each one shows beauty in their way. This line and aesthetic representation seem to be more important in the development of the story than their abilities because the woman is taken as a secondary and weak character in most cases or only as a sales tool by showing women with exaggerated attributes that please the male vision. The existence of strong female characters in history is not denied, but they are not the main interest of the story. Certainly, the socio historical background of Japan is clearly represented in all these stories. If animations continue portraying women the same way, the structure and rules dictating what a woman should be like will remain intact in the collective male imagination
When Cathartica decided to have an edition about the concept of Ecstasy, I immediately thought about Gian Lorenzo Bernini, I must confess, he is my greatest sin as a feminist, anti system, anarchist. Bernini managed to capture in the marble's solidity a moment of feeling that has everything but solidity. The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa goes beyond an orgasm. As transverberation has been described, it is the feeling of the heart pierced by supernatural fire. I really wanted to find a way to talk about ecstasy, avoiding the stories that we already know such as Gian Lorenzo Bernini's story, which has never been lost in books.
However, I managed to find the counterculture that disturbs me. In my research for St. Teresa alternative artworks that might compare to the weak kneed feeling of ecstasy, I recalled the face of a beautiful man at the climax of the feeling Peter Hujar captured the perfect moment, the stopping of movement, and what at other times, I have called purest beauty, on Orgasmic Man (1969).
Between links and hyperlinks, I ended up in a criticism circle between Peter, Robert Mapplethorpe, and Nan Goldin. Finding my excuse to ignore Bernini, I resumed my feminism, understanding that I don't want to fall into his fan club knowing that he did things wrong. I ended up falling into the definition of ecstasy according to Nan Goldin's photographs and the group of people she called "her tribe"
Nan Goldin focused her career on photographing 1980s youth living in the United States. The thing about documentary photography is that there is a fine line between the footage that is produced and the participation of the documented event. Nan crossed the line enough times to develop a photographic project series that continues to be relevant to social contexts. Drug use, substance abuse, sexual practice, experimentation, and liberation, as well as self violence and loss of self in the search for true freedom of being, and many more are the main themes of Goldin's work
Between photographic series that were meant to be slideshows in concert backdrops for some bands, we soak with the young faces Nan coexists with on a daily basis. Scenarios that by no means fall within the aesthetic canons and instead are somehow morbid, excessive, and grotesque, we are presented with lives that would not be taken into consideration as models to follow, let alone haute couture, nor good physiques, nor good make up.
Something destructive, dangerous, with hints of immorality, and definitely drowned in excess. Something bad but real, intimate. The same feeling of having interrupted the intimacy of Santa Teresa in full sigh invades us when we meet wet kisses with bitten tongues, or bath partners, or the embrace which between claws wants to stop time to continue squeezing the clump of black, tangled hair.
Turning her project simultaneously, into the loudspeaker that pretends to criticize the self destructive behaviors of a consumption tribe, of the pretension and embellishment of self deterioration. An unembellished ecstasy, much like the eponymous drug. Nan Goldin does not pierce us with supernatural fire. Her work freezes us in a real moment In the rawness of tears inked with black eyeliner and rusty needles next to a pack of Marlboros. Unwittingly belonging and breaking the fine line between documentation and participation.
I like to imagine myself as a free creative, collector of pieces and collector of wild memories, but it is not like that. I spend many hours looking for the idea I want to express, what do I want to talk about?
What subject in the image represents the idea? How much energy should I put into this piece? What use would it have? What if I get lazy? What material provokes me the most? Creativity means effort and is maintained as a routine practice, almost with the same ritualistic faith of a religion, and when a piece finally stands out on its own, the energy and satisfaction it generates is worth it.
Year of production: 2021 Technique: textile collage Series: Hare Krisis
The ants eat my pantry before me, always happens to me every payday and I always surprise myself with almost or equal discomfort to hunger, such a need that I have to rescue clean bites from between the invasion to endure the next 8 days.
Resilience is a process I am getting sick of, to which there is no neutral and diffuse area to settle between its extremes that are a medley beyond my own frustration, disappointment (and other pessimistic suffixes in tion)and a fullness whose insufficient permanence makes it impossible for me to describe it.
Restarting this process causes me a fatigue before starting as such, that for the last few days the virtues of my independence seem to me overvalued. The "friendships" with which I count are against the level of modesty that I feel when I go without more reason that help me to reach the positive end of the 8 days goal, however, that achievement for me is a mess for them. A placebo in a bowl.
Given my apparent discomfort with their needs, on the first morning of the process I realized their solution to my problems and vice versa
That replacement appeared lying on my bed.
Day 1He was always there, but he had never associated it as a present
I am not surprised by its existence but by its appearance, whose presence follows me no matter how much the gaze escapes.
I decided to give in and his gaze guided mine, suddenly this... Let’s say creature, he made bed in my chest with the rise and fall of my breath as his coo. I had no courage to interrupt the rest of such a creature, the fear of offending sometimes outweighs my own will.
He slept his equivalent of 8 hours on my being, left to his comfort when the grunt of my stomach told him to come down at once.
At that time I already felt the need for breakfast, food and an extra maybe, to compensate. I thawed meat, which was immune to ants, and started cooking and handing out the pieces dedicated to the next few days they will reach. 6 days.
The creature kept staring at me all the time
Without realizing it, it was a direct continuation of the previous day. Trying to see my screen without looking sideways at the blurry lump of one who longed to make himself present, before that apparent struggle between indifference and obviousness, I turned off my screen and let the creature rest on me. The least I want is to be annoying.
I woke up before her, but I woke up to her We were hungry I warmed up my second piece of meat and rice. I was looking at my eyes flush with the table. I broke a piece of my meat to give it to him and he ignored it on the floor, like that. I complimented her with some rice and she started eating just like me, just like me, 2 or 3 bites of meat and one of rice me, her 2 or 3 bites of meat and one of rice.
On that Sunday night his presence kept distracting me from my distraction so, as the day before, I moved on to the next unforeseen.
I opened my eye for a couple of things, confirmed my vitality, blinded myself quickly and checked the state of my creature who, in the first second, or even less, when I fixed my eyes on it, rested his head again and pretended to sleep. He did what he was doing before I did what he was going to do when I paid attention. I went back to sleep until he woke up. I reheated my food and before tasting it I cut his corresponding piece with his rice.
I do not stop watching her eat, looking at her with conquered comfort, accepting my blind trust to this being that does not exist only for me, to keep me company in this process of waiting.
It was until I finished that I realized that I had eaten little or that she had eaten too much.
My attention to the screen at night was very short, before the vain effort to ignore its peripheral accommodation in my vision and I forced the dream to give it the taste.
We woke up and got up. 6 hours later. One day of absence will not make me much trouble, because those responsible forgive the irresponsibilities. Yeah, I'll give them a chance.
I do not know how to give part of me subtracted food will facilitate me to reach the end of the process, but I want to believe, I would like to console myself with the idea that his presence focused on me compensates for some need that I do not know or a lack that I ignore
I occupy the same dish, the same pair of cutlery and the same utensils for cooking and eating the same thing in essence. I can well omit washing the dishes if I know perfectly well in which they will be engaged tomorrow. So I even save soap and water and the lifespan of the sponge to occupy productivity time with my creature, it’s time to tame it.
But not today, when I sat on the bed, it jumped and used my belly to caress itself, causing a strange guilty pleasure that relaxed even the most determined impetus of my being and decided to give me the day. Give us. Give us the day.
I woke up again, giving a chance to forgive those responsible. The creature stood on my trunk and did not move until the growl of my stomach disturbed it.
Overheating the meat and the glued remains of the previous day, the creature suddenly lay on the stove, on the stove against the corner of the ignition, his gaze was latent and with absolute determination to be noticed. I could analyze it carefully, it was not an identifiable species, but, still, it transmitted a certain familiarity, a familiarity that reminded me of certain scenes of the past without apparent reason to be remembered, but that were materialized in the joint feeling of confusion in puberty, a sentimental stage in which the risk of falling back to those same sentimental doubts is the unspeakable fear of every adult that is labeled 'stable'.
The breastplate of his dark coat lost my gaze and caused me discomfort, which took away my appetite I threw the whole piece of meat on the floor and a rice bonche Watching the creature eat was horribly mesmerizing, it did not provoke any pleasure, not even apathy to see it, but I could not ignore it. That was my food and that is swallowing it, the reason for this process and the fuel that keeps me inside it, rescued finger and nail before the interference of other creatures, my food is taken advantage of, unlike this being who found his space to sneak in to suit my needs.
At least the ants left their leftovers for me.
The excess of suffixes gave me up and as I lay down I let myself wander in semi conscious fantasies as the creature stood on my back
When I woke up, the creature wasn’t there, I could have gotten up, but I didn’t.
I woke up again and the growling of my stomach began to scratch, despite my heavy apathy to get up, my stomach insisted otherwise, as if it had a mind of its own.
I rose to fill that need, but when I arrived in the kitchen the hunger was overwhelmed by an immense anger defeated to witness that all my remaining food, rescued and calculated, lay digesting within the creature. Sitting on the table, she was so bold as to diminish all my reservations about the process that she even had the audacity to judge me, to look at me with disdain, to observe my fragile decency.
I couldn’t answer logically, there was no reason to. I jumped on it, but I hit the edge of the table and it jumped towards me, on me. I tried to catch her with a slap, but I hit the wall. The pain only redirected the real culprit of my discomfort and I knew how to solve only cons for myself.
I returned to my room and the creature appeared and disappeared in removing me whatever my point of focus, causing my tremendous headache to increase.
Wherever I looked, his slow heartbreak and appearance dominated my attention. If I closed my eyes, I could feel his presence in me.
I decided to ignore my eyes and fall into a weak and forced dream
His eyes, iris and pupil were... let’s say... inverted. In the round penumbra of his gaze was... is a celestial line, bright, garish, slightly twisted but evidently unnatural. Diagonal lines in the same direction in both eyes. They see my view and I see theirs. His vain gaze rescues indifference, I suppose. Mine, a kind of restlessness I feared, I’m afraid to admit.
The creature is deftly heading into the kitchen, I’m going after her. Open the bowl with the remaining rice and throw most of it on the ground. I didn’t answer, I wasn’t surprised. He left nothing but a whiff, maybe half a fist for me to eat. It was considered.
He finished his meal. Although I wanted not to recognize my request with the gaze, He only responds when it suits.
Without doing more she went back to the room, I followed her, I don’t want to be alone
He lay on the bed and I opened up space in his I was expecting a caress, an attention, a demonstration from you that I am good, a good being.
He mechanically rubbed himself on my back and I liked it. It made me feel protected, careful, and attentive to me.
He fell asleep. Me too.
I woke up carefully, I didn’t want to disturb him. It was still dark, but I had to go to the bathroom. The creature suddenly appeared without warning on my foot. He looked sad, with the same firm bearing, but with eyes that sympathized with another’s pity. He jumped from the floor to the sink and from there to my shoulder. His tail (I want to assume it was his tail) slowly grazed my nape. His company was peaceful.
In the bathroom I was accompanied, but in my reflection I was alone.
Despite not looking at her, I knew that she was staring at me, that her countenance had changed and that her presence weighed on me. A lot. I couldn’t stand it.
My shoulder hurt, my back hurt, my legs gave up and my body fell under the weight of my inactions There it was, that was the materialization of the bottom of my sorrow, sitting, her and her bearing upon me, compressing my breath until I no longer knew what happened next...
Before noticing the absence of the creature, I noticed the silhouette of the bathroom tile upholstered in my cheek (not counting other repugnances that lay there).
I don’t know how I could let myself be a grotesque being.
That creature, I can’t touch, but if I feel, I can’t understand, but I can witness. I don’t understand her, and yet she understands me.
I was always alone, only she was here. It cohabitates my life like ants in the cracks of the structure of my place. Or my being.
I’m too fucked up to get metaphysical, I have to fix myself and I’m still here writing. I already owe several years in favors to those who are responsible for me.
Night 7I found a ticket on the street, with nothing on it, still static despite the wind. With that I managed to give my last push to get clean to the decent end of the process with some basket taquitos and a juice.
Leaving, later than usual and with good reason, the creature was waiting for me outside on the sidewalk. I can’t get rid of her.
In this time, since her materialization, she has been comfortable but not for me, but in spite of me. And it would be hypocritical to deny that there is no such sin, of selfish consolation.
She must think what I think of her, but knowing how to conceal, or digest, the affliction that empathizes with me. The celestial lines of his eyes became crystalline, with bright reflections that exaggerated the light there. At the same time, I received notifications.
If you’re going to live with me, we should get order then. This must be a mutual relationship. No abuse and constructive.
Just like a drug, it treats a discomfort I don’t fully understand based on our blind trust Too much confidence can cause a kind of overdose and we both know, by this means, that the wasted time is done quickly and suffers slowly.
Tonight she will sleep wherever she pleases, and I am used to feeling her coming and going about my being as something natural, anatomical, like an itch or a slight spasm
Tonight I appreciate your presence to make up for my absence tomorrow. I was invited for a barbecue. Apparently, my friends had plenty of "" .
Day 8I woke up with the day She soon after He was no longer confined to his gaze, but only appeared when he needed it for me. It helped me remember to buy more containers to protect my food from ants... or insecticide, whichever comes first.
The creature may follow me, but she will know whether or not it will be convenient. It can hurt me like all beings, it is only up to me to free myself from my chest the weight of his naturalness.
I wonder who domesticates whom in other cases. Ants also invade me but this creature can hurt me as well as comfort me by knowing how to handle its presence in the absence of others. I named the creature Sinope and said goodbye to her with affection.
Victor Rivera
My story with Yawners begins on a lazy Sunday, present in my mind because that's regularly when I find myself taking care of my grandmother, who lives outside of Mexico City. Around that time, my obsession with Weezer had returned, however, I was no longer the same fifteen year old boy who listened to 'Buddy Holly' at full volume.
This time, some of his lyrics suffered from dullness, while others gained meanings around their semantic expression. Rivers Cuomo has always been a role model for me: a young man from Harvard who, as he says in 'Troublemaker', did not look like the singers in other bands, and yet his authenticity has defined him as a one of a kind singer.
I found Yawners' music when I accidentally clicked on his song 'Rivers Cuomo' while watching a YouTube video. From then on I was fascinated with his work
I had the opportunity, almost a year contact her and learn how an artist new era translates the impulses and motivations that life gives her into and proactive sound, which of course those born in the two thousand and the nineties, where bands and sing Fall Out Boy, Green Day, Simpl Avril Lavigne, Paramore and, of Weezer, made "noise" with their favoring the youthful message i lyrics.
would be disrespectful to na Nieto's project as a "tribute" to those vintage wners has achieved with her tyle is, in a way, disruptive e. She understands that e goes beyond words, beyond ech, which is why for her, a tself, regardless of whether h or Spanish. Meanwhile, project born from support, d from personal moments of h also characterizes Rivers. share this experience is a because even though she has opportunity to play in Latin has already been able to Bratty who, by the way, is e emerging singers.
enthusiasm that I share this, nthusiasm that I had when I ld boy going on the internet ws with the musicians I have
How was your project born and how did you manage to consolidate it?
I started in 2015, with a friend, and soon after it became my project. I have tried to grow organically, playing a lot in many different places, and trying to make my music reach people
Why is it important that you express yourself through two different languages, without having to stick to just one?
This album is about the dualities of life, and it was important to me that it was also in two languages. I believe that it is a bridge between the two languages and can bring Spanish closer to English speaking cultures and vice versa.
Where do you and your music fit in with Latin American audiences?
I haven't played in Latin America yet, but I would love to go there next year. I believe that the audience, for example, in Mexico is super dedicated and I'm looking forward to performing a show there I have received a lot of support from there, now that the collaboration with Bratty has come out. I am very happy.
What was the story behind the song 'Rivers Cuomo' and why it has been so representative of your project?
I'm a huge Weezer fan and I wanted to do a song talking about writer's block and the ease Rivers seems to have when it comes to writing. I didn't know if he was going to listen to it, but he did and has commented on YouTube, Twitter, Discord... I was really excited.
What has been the most difficult part of starting in this industry as an independent artist?
At first, it is very complicated to coordinate with a job, especially when it comes to giving concerts. Now I'm lucky enough not to have that problem anymore.
I loved collaborating with Bratty I would like to collaborate with bands that are a reference for me like Joyce Manor, Tigers Jaw, or Beach Bunny.
What's the hardest thing about touring?
Touring is really nice, but you have to be aware of how hard it is to be away from home and on the road a lot. Right now I'm touring Europe for three weeks and it's exhausting.
How do you evaluate a musical project's success in this new digital era? Tickets sold? Plays on Spotify? Social media mentions?
Well, I think that before everything was more centralized, but today it has diversified into different fields Some artists have a lot of plays, but they don't sell tickets. There are bands that triumph live and sell a lot in physical, but they do not have a digital audience. If I have to choose, I'd go for ticket sales, it seems more real to me.
How would you define your musical project, what genre would you place it in and what audience do you think has been the most receptive?
For me, my musical project is the place where I pour my influences and tell the things that happen in my life. The genre, I would say fits in indie rock. And an audience of 90's bands.
If you could change one thing about the music industry, both positively and negatively, what would it be?
That social media wouldn't have so much weight and that music would be more valued, instead of who posts more non stop content.
Finally, what is art for you and what does music represent for you?
Music is my work and my way of expression. Art is: bringing the beauty out of everyday things
