Intersections

Postopolis Report No. 4: Aztec futurisms, y el adios

* How Postopolis spread: engagement. Via Tomo.

The culture supplement Tomo has just put out its Postopolis issue. Flip through the pages here. It's a useful marker to publish my final Postopolis report, so here it goes. Sorry for the delay ...

By Saturday, Postopolis had spread, like a Red Specter contagion. People in D.F. were hearing about it, tuning in and watching the stream online, and arriving to hear the talks live. The faces of my fellow bloggers were becoming not just familiar but welcoming. And those arty concrete ladrillos were by then all-too familiar with our poor sore nalgas.

On the final day David Lida came to discuss his book "First Stop in the New World" with Jace Clayton. A couple questions centered on Lida's thesis in the book that Mexico is "the capital of the Twenty First Century." He reiterated that his argument is based on the idea that the fastest growing cities in the developing world are growing like Mexico City did, which makes D.F. sort of the mother figure to places like Lagos or Mumbai. People for the most part make their life here day-to-day, Lida said, like in so many other such cities.

In a question, Mariana Delgado of Proyecto Sonidero challenged the notion that Mexico City is post-Colonial or post-Hispanic. She said something to the effect of, 'This is still Tenochtitlán.' The exchange was so cool because it demonstrated that this question -– Is Tenochtitlán a ghost city or the city around us, actually? –- is still a relevant one in D.F. today, in the year 2010.

I like to call that an Aztec Futurism. Or from the sonidero standpoint, is that a Tropical Futurism?

Postopolis Report No. 1: Ali Gua Gua, and M of Michoacan *

* Audience at the opening of Postopolis DF, via Tomo.

An amazing start to Postopolis DF at the Eco on Tuesday. The event kicked off in high spirits with introductions by the Storefront crew, despite the rain clouds (mercifully) sitting themselves upon Mexico City. Each invited blogger then introduced their site and work. Nicola Twilley of Edible Geography nlightened us with her food esoterica, including "disaster wine." Regine Debatty of We Make Money Not Art opened our minds to the weirdness of her native Belgium. (If the Dutch-speaking part separates from the French-speaking part, who keeps Brussels?)

Check out the day's coverage here. Video of my introduction is here, by Jesus Chairez.

Once the invited presentations got underway (Remember, in the "Ponzi scheme" of Postopolis, as Joseph Grima describes it, organizers invite bloggers they find intriguing, bloggers invite guests whose work intrigues them, and the conversations start), we listened to Fernando Romero quickly discuss the major projects undertaken by his firm LAR. Will they ever build that border bridge museum? Less and less likely, tragically.

Then I had the pleasure of introducing Ali Gadorki of Kumbia Queers and Las Ultrasonicas.

The most insightful moment for me was when during the Q&A, a young guy in the back offered his perspective: He is from "provincia" like Ali, he said, and is surprised at how, as he sees it, Mexico City kids tend to remain strictly within their tribal boundaries, while non-Mexico City natives who live here are more open to going to different tocadas during the week. Punk one day, rockabilly the next, migrating between hip-hop and reggae and so on on any given night. "Es una multicultura."

It might have been a generalization, but his remarks definitely resonated with Ali and others in the audience.

Earlier today, I introduced Carlos Alvarez Montero and his documentary work on transnational cholo subcultures, including his project "Covers (Adapt & Adopt)." Questions focused on Alvarez's "M of Michoacan" photo series, documenting migrants who return to Mexico after absorbing classical urban Chicano dress from the North. "How do you approach them?" came a question, regarding the photographer's practice.

Carlos said it's fairly easy getting cholos or other subcultural adherents to agree to have their photo taken. When people consciously adopt a certain set of dress codes, merging and mixing them, they're looking to be documented. It's the point, he said. "It's vanity."

* Keep up with the invited blogs and the main Postopolis page for all the updates. Intersections updates again on Friday.

** Post updated.

Intersections at Postopolis: Punks, cholos, and your rights *

* Above, Califas byka culture, via Mexico, in the Bronx. By C. Alvarez Montero.

And just like that, Postopolis DF is set to start. Tuesday June 8 is the opening day of the free offerings of talks and interviews at the Eco museum, until Saturday, June 11. Check out this previous post for all the details. And check out the whole schedule at the main Postopolis site, where all the events will be streamed live.

I'm so impressed by the line-up and the ability of the many organizers to make this come together. Now here are my guests. I think they reflect general concerns in my own work: subcultures, bilingualism, transnationalism, youth, modes of violence, modes of resistance, justice, contemporary art, and the wide giant scope of human sexuality. The urbanism of D.F. is the unifying glue.

On Tuesday, I sit down with Ali Gadorki, an OG figure in the Mexico City punk/alternative scene. Ali is a founding member of the ground-breaking all-female band Las Ultrasonicas (previously blogged here) and now leads the Kumbia Queers, another all-ladies group Ali created with a set musicians from Argentina. Ali is also known as Ali Gua Gua, her DJ handle. We'll be discussing the history and development of punk in Mexico City, queers in punk, women in punk, and everyone's new fixation: crate-digging for cumbia from the streets and the south south south south.

Keep reading ...

Excavations: Salem nightmares

This is an excavations post not into the archive, but into a dark and lurid future, as projected by the New York musicians known as Salem. Above, Salem live in New York City, June 2009. Click and immerse yourself; it's a nasty ass ride no matter how you absorb it.

Salem digs below all known comfort levels, spatially, aurally, morally.

In the video for their track "Dirt" (audio doesn't begin until more than a minute into the track, and embedding is disabled), a tormented woman appears to be attempting suicide in a closed garage with her car engine running. Then, in the twist straight out of Hell, a naked female (or female-like) figure appears on the hood of the car, dancing suggestively.

Fucked up.

The attraction here is the sheer transgression, the bending, the channeling of the terrors we all know are just around any corner. The group's sound itself is difficult to describe, but it's been called "foggy, distorted," "muddy," "surreal and uncomfortable," and "goth/electro/juke." You can find plenty of tracks and remixes by Salem at The Fader, including discussion of their apparently poorly received performance at this year's SXSW. The We Make It Good Mix is especially good.

Salem singer John Holland is interviewed in a recent issue of Butt magazine (NSFW -- or for young children), where he talks about previous stints as a male prostitute and offers details of his drug use. Of the band's label aversion, Holland says, "I don't really know why everyone thinks it's 'Goth.'"

Burlesque in Mexico City: The clown bears all *

Above, the burlesque performer Islandia doing the number "Mi verdadera vocaccion," at the old-school Centro cantina La Faena, on Friday, April 30. Islandia, born Carina Guzman in Mexico City, is part of a small burlesque troupe in D.F. known as the Burlesquineras.

Along with Islandia, two other Burlesquineras members performed -- Chichis Glam and Lupe Tequila del Sagrado Corazon -- in honor of a birthday, for troupe member Glitter, who is male. Yes, males doing burlesque. "It's all queer, post-feminist, post-everything, post-punk, especially," Islandia explains.

The troupe formed in 2007 after a visit and workshop in D.F. by a New York burlesque performer, Old Ma Femme. The Burlesquineras produce their own shows, Islandia points out. Here's coverage of one such performance in 2008 at the Hotel Virreyes, by David Lida.

Regarding the photo above, it's all about documentary accuracy. And, Islandia adds, "If you ask me, I can never resist a picture of my tits showing."

A progressive new jam

* Above, your blogger, and Raul Pachecho, in Mexico City.

From my post at La Plaza, on an interview with Raul Pacheco of Ozomatli during the Vive Latino festival in D.F., about their bold and progressive new song, "Gay Vatos in Love":

Still, the song consistently challenges comfort levels among some listeners, the singer admitted. "I think people get confused, they don't know where we're coming from. Some people ask, especially in the Spanish press, 'Who's gay in the band?' So there's an assumption there."

(When reporters ask about the sexuality of the band's membership, Pacheco says he sometimes responds with a purposely blank, "I don't know.")

"For us it's a bigger issue," Pacheco went on. "We felt that [gay rights] is just another in a long line of underdogs, so I think we connected to it on that level. It was totally natural for us to take that stance."

The full post is here. Thank you for your re-tweets. I am waiting on several comments submitted to at La Plaza to get moderated and published, but the internal system over there is ... slow.

Comments here are welcome as well.

The work: Oaxacan attack, Haitians, and 'Zoot Suit'

* Above, actors doing it up in the Mexico production of 'Zoot Suit.'

Perdiocally I'll be posting some of my recent work at La Plaza, the Latin American news blog at the L.A. Times. Just now, "Zoot Suit" premieres in Mexico City, the first time the landmark Chicano musical play is mounted in Mexico -- and the first time it is presented in Spanish. Very exciting news.

Here, a report on a breaking news item -- 2 people, a Mexican woman and a Finnish man, are killed in an ambush attack on a humanitarian caravan in a disputed region of Oaxaca. Here, an update on the movement of Haitians to Mexico. Here, a look at a new Purepecha urban settlement discovery in Michoacan.

Also, Bolivian president Evo Morales suggests chicken causes baldness and homosexuality, and Mexico City archbishop Norberto Rivera is named in a sexual abuse suit in federal court in Los Angeles.

L.A. Times Mexico City bureau chief Tracy Wilkinson posts about Mexico protesting the Arizona immigration law, Lorena Ochoa quitting golf, the FBI calling Salvadoran gang members terrorists, and Mexico issuing a travel advisory on Arizona.

* More soon.

Malcolm McLaren's casket

Above, punk impresario Malcolm McLaren is lowered into his grave at Highgate cemetery in London, photographed by Olivier Zahm of Purple magazine, April 22. "An artist who all his life used to fight constantly against the Societé du Spectacle with anarchy and chaos. I love you for ever Malcolm," Zahm writes.

McLaren, former manager of the Sex Pistols and founder of the London store SEX with designer Vivienne Westwood, succumbed to cancer on April 8. He was 64.

Journalist Jess Bravin tweets of an encounter with McLaren -- covering in the L.A. Times a visit McLaren made to Cal State Fullerton, in 1990. From the article:

Possessing no talent as a writer, musician or visual artist, however, McLaren realized that only one profession seemed open to him: "Plunder. I asked myself, could I enter the world of plunder like the great masters?"

McLaren's casket reportedly carried his signature slogan: "Too fast to live, too young to die."

Chuntaro style?

Above, raw video of "sureño" cholos dancing to Celso Piño -- together, without women -- during an outdoor concert in Houston. The person who uploaded this video (in 2008) seems aware that the dudes open themselves up to macho mocking, dancing so close and free to one another. "Look cabrones," the uploader writes, "before you start talking shit, if these guys are from Monterrey, Colombia, or Chicanos, recognize that these vatos dance con madre."

Con madre. As in, with balls? Guts? Soul? I'd agree, 100 percent.

Technically I'm from "El Norte" myself (from a southern Mexico angle, I mean), but I've never spent much time in Texas and have yet to see Monterrey. My focus in the last two years has been set intensely on urban D.F. Nonetheless, let's do some excavating. The style of dancing above reflects a style celebrated in the video for "Chuntaro Style" by El Gran Silencio, where norteños in cholo-like outfits, both men and women, dance a poppy, low, gangster-y rhythm to a polyglot beat. Looks like a Monterrey thing.

More: Mexico City photographer Carlos Alvarez Montero has shot a subculture in the deep barrios of Monterrey called "Colombianos." These are urban dudes who are obsessed with Colombian cumbia and Colombia in general. In Montero's post, he says he was introduced to the subculture by the incomparable -- and again, norteño -- DJ Toy Selectah. Montero tells me he still has to hit up one of their parties.

Check more of the photographer's work on transnational Mexican subcultures at his site. He and I are agreed. We're looking at hints here of an uncharted "urban tribe" phenomenon.

* Previously, "Sonidero on the streets." * Thanks, M. and A.!

Sonidero on the streets

Urban D.F. cumbia is a very particular dance style and subculture, known colloquially as "sonidero." As you can see in the above Grupo Kual clip, it's jerky, jumpy, and yet fluid. That means gender roles, too. At Mexico City sonideros, seeing a trans woman working a circle of eager male partners is always a highlight.

The sonidero takes place on the street, usually in "rough" barrios such as Tepito or La Merced, and includes a unique transnational element. Shout-outs and messages on signs are transmitted to the M.C., who reads them back. The entire sonidero event is recorded and then turns up on the streets in the form of bootleg discs. The discs make it across the border, and the shout-outs reach their destination.

There's a New York Times article from 2003 about it. Here in D.F., the Proyecto Sonidero is documenting the sonidero subculture, paying special attention to its roots in Colombia. Myself, I'm a fan of Sonoramico (check out their dramatic site intro), but I'm glad I don't feel the urge to over-document this subculture. At a recent event in Tepito, three foreigners I ran into were later held up for their photo equipment.

Sonideros on the street can be ... overwhelming. People are often smoking cigarettes, smoking herb, inhaling paint solvent, and doing a lot of drinking. Speakers keep their bass on blast. People are pressing up against you on all sides, and, late into the dance, fights are not uncommon.

There's a lot more to the scene, of course, so if you're a resident expert, feel free to chime in.

* Thanks for the clip, Mario!

Imagining divine androgyny

Soaring through the sky in an airplane, as June Singer writes in the opening of her 1974 masterwork "Androgyny," is nothing to fear. Flying is being "suspended in the universe," she writes. "Since the universe is universal, therefore everywhere, I cannot fall out of it."

Here is Singer's primer on the founding of cosmic love, from the chapter titled "Androgyny as Guiding Principle of the New Age":

The idea of the Divine Androgyne is a consequence of the concept that Ultimate Being consists of a unity-totality. Within this unity-totality are seen to exist all the conjoined pairs of opposites at all levels of potentiality. Creation occurs when the cosmogonic egg is broken. Then the world is born. Or it occurs when male and female, having been incorporated in one spherical body, are separated by the supreme power of creation. Cosmic energy is generated by the surge of longing in each one of the two for the other.

Singer, who died in 2004, was a Jungian analyst whose great ambition was to break through the final barrier in Freudian and Jungian theory -- the liberated sexual psyche. Her "new theory on sexuality" was published more than 30 years ago.

Jung is in the air. Here is the richly rendered New York Times magazine piece on his mythical "red book," and an NYT review of the book's exhibition currently on view at Rubin Museum of Art in Manhattan.

Excavations: 'That's the way love goes'

I was just 12 years old when it came out. But I'm realizing now that this video was my first object lesson in sensuality, "That's the Way Love Goes," off Janet Jackson's janet.

It was a breakthrough, I think, not just for Janet but for an entire decade -- its sound, vibe, look, and expression of certain values. Mainly, the de-inhibiting of desire, the pleasure of total comfort in one's sexuality, the chasing and sharing of love. Director Rene Elizondo Jr., Janet's Mexican-born secret spouse, catches an early Jennifer Lopez doing a ridiculous "Latina" accent, and misses an opportunity to display or even hint at some same-sex affection, but otherwise the video is perfect.

Janet, forever my lady.

* If the embedded clip above doesn't work, try the official video here.

Note on Guadalajara

The building above epitomizes Guadalajara style to me, where so many modern or semi-modern structures, no matter the architectural idiom, protrude slightly outward at the second floor, sometimes again at the third and fourth, sometimes dramatically at corners. It's strange because it's so prevalent, like a mainstream design trend that sprung up locally at some point and just stayed.

This city feels more genetically similar to Los Angeles than to Mexico City. It is flat and wide like a lot of L.A., and car-oriented like L.A. is, too. Public transit is limited to two light subway lines, a bunch of out-of-date buses, and a Metrobus-like system that everyone seems to have a different complaint about. Taxis are expensive. So basically, without a car or a driver, it's difficult to get around. Worse so than in L.A., surprisingly.

They don't say "bistec" like in D.F. but "asada" like in the North. It's not "bolillo" here it's "birote." People seem more or less ... comfortable. You don't see strangers with that wild look of desperation in their eyes like you do in the big city. It feels less provincial than its reputation tells you. In downtown we ran into a tucked-away block populated by several subtle lesbian-friendly bars, with teenage girls holding hands and kissing on the sidewalk outside in the daytime.

And it's true what they say. The people of Guadalajara are generally hot. Effortlessly attractive -- good faces, good bodies -- regardless of where they landed on the class or mestizo scale.

I keep wondering, Why is that?

Friday night

This is Wawis, a disco on Eje Central just before Garibaldi. It's in the area. There's a "show." Caption contest?

Freaks of Halloween

Here is jewelry designer Juan Esteban de Montserrat, and fashion designers Denise Marchebout and EGR, of Clinica, arriving through a back hallway at the Hello DF Halloween party at the Habita on Saturday night.

"Mexico has lacked a good Halloween party and we decided to do something about that," wrote promoter Naomi Palovits, urging the pretty and avant-garde scenester set to attend. While some of the DJ sets (courtesy of DFA from NY and Crosstown Rebels from the UK, among others) might have veered too heavily toward the repetitive bpm realm, it was still a fun night. Lots of good costumes, definitely.

Another occasion for the party was the visit to Mexico City by Super Super magazine, of London. The mag's editors and stylist Charlie le Mindu are giving a talk this evening at Centro, the Mexico City design school. The Super Super crew have been busy scouring the city for interesting fashions and locations to shoot photos for an upcoming issue.

We ended up taking them on Halloween night to quickly check out El Under and Spartacus, out in Neza ... so they might sample just a bit of the freakiest kind of nightlife available in the gran urbe mexicano. Now who wouldn't be inspired by that?

Scorpio is here

* Above, acrylic and aerosol on canvas, by Sergio Hernandez.

Scorpio is here, and we all know what that means -- besides ferociously mythical horses. It's birthday time! On November 4, I turn 29. Yes, it's been another intense year. Right now, "it looks like you are in this serious work, reflective, looking to the future phase of your life," a friendly amateur astrologist just informed me.

I'd say that's about right. I'm writing, working, waiting, looking ahead. I've survived all the mid-twenties death-traps and I'm ready to relish in the sweet stings of late-youth. At least I know Fergie is by my side. And 15th Century Middle Eastern anatomical drawings. And Dolly Parton.

Above, modeling a one-of-a-kind hand-studded San Judas Tadeo sweatshirt by designer Uriel Urbán, available in Los Angeles exclusively at New High (M)art. Remember, October 28 is the day for San Juditas. This year, the saint has certainly earned it.

Mexico City is once again wintry and wet around these death-festive dates. The cool reminds that the month of Scorpio is about remaining calm and enjoying the ride. You handle yours, I'll handle mine.

* Link-in image, colored pencil on canary paper, by Kathryn Garcia.

Disco nightmares: The Dr. Lakra mural

Here's a detail of the massive Dr. Lakra mural on view for just a couple more days at Kurimanzutto. Surrounding you on all sides, and sometimes spilling onto the floor, the whole thing felt like an out-of-control trip down the darkest disco tunnels. Sex, witchcraft, disfigurement, oozy acid tripping on cruise ships and frightening hotel rooms. The technical qualities of the installation are outstanding; Lakra put his work in.

And, I might be wrong, but the tattoo artist must also have caught a tag in the sidewalk concrete out front as they were building the new space. Thumbs up.

* Traveling for a few days. Back soon.

Alter egos

We used this photo as the flier for a recent party in our building. Most people thought I grabbed it from somewhere. But no. We were looking for a theme, and I had a pile of 'Hello My Name Is' stickers handy. Tagged it, and presto -- one photo taken among many during one of those long 'If-it-happens-it-happens' sort of nights.

In the big, bad D.F. you never know what the urbe and the cosmos might throw at you, or what alter egos you might encounter along the way. It's a good theme for right now. And for the possibilities ahead.

Jenni Rivera: 'You wash his clothes, but I take them off' *

Los Angeles "Mexican regional" artist Jenni Rivera has just one message for her new socia, her boyfriend's fiancee, just ... one message ... Jenni of course doesn't mess around. So no need to mention, please, that minor US$50,000 in cash at the Mexico City international airport incident in May.

* Edited.

Marvin y Quetzal y Lady Gaga y Jeremy Scott

Here's an interesting post at Style Amor on a striking yellow unitard Lady Gaga wears in the video for her song "Paparazzi." It's from a recent Jeremy Scott collection, but the image in the print resembles the Mickey Mouse ears-wearing Quetzal, of Mexico City designing duo Marvin y Quetzal. Style Amor suggests that Jeremy Scott bit off a Marvin y Quetzal design, but several people I've consulted disagree, saying that Jeremy Scott first used Mickey Mouse ears prints in 2006. For his part, Marvin Duran tells me people often think the piece in the video is theirs, not by Scott. (I tried unsuccessfully to get in touch with Jeremy about this topic through various friends.)

We'd all like to see more recognition for the independent fashion being generated in Mexico currently. Often, it seems, designers in the U.S. or Europe are, uh, inspired by their counterparts in Mexico, as happened recently with EGR, and not completely forthcoming about their sources. In the "Paparazzi" unitard case, the origin of the print really doesn't matter. It's Lady Gaga's world now. Here, pop is central to fashion, fashion is central to pop, and who did what first becomes untraceable and irrelevant. Yet seeing an echo of dear Quetzal upon Lady Gaga -- the pop-fashion queen of the moment -- in a video about pop overload and death is significant in its own way.

Saturday, September 12 marked the one-year anniversary of the death of Quetzalcoatl Rangel Sanchez, one of Mexican fashion's brightest young stars. It's not something his friends get together and talk about much, even when we run into each other -- which happens mostly at loud, crowded parties -- but you can still feel this terrible absence in Mexico City without him. There's still this shock, a sustained disbelief, that he is no longer with us.

This week my thoughts have been with Quetzal's family (whom I had the privilege of meeting in April 2008), with Marvin, and with his closest and most trusted friends. May Quetzal's spirit live on, on Lady Gaga or not, but more importantly in our hearts and dreams -- where I am told he is still regularly making appearances.

* Previously, "Getting into Lady Gaga" and "Fotos y memorias de Quetzal Rangel." See all posts in Fashion here.

** Image above via Style Amor.

Dr. Lakra: Drawing on paper, walls, and skin

Coming up, Dr. Lakra, a member of that now-mythical 1990s Panaderia generation of young Mexican artists, opens his first solo show at the new Kurimanzutto space in Col. San Miguel Chapultepec. The gallery announcement says the artist is preparing a mural-drawing covering 230 squared meters of wall space that will feature images of "African female figures, Hindu deities, Japanese prints, 19th Century scientific, medical, and anthropological illustrations, even porno [...]"

Lakra, whose father is Francisco Toledo, is also a noteworthy tattoo artist.

Kurimanzutto openings are, refreshingly, on Saturday mornings. Icy dark beer tastes better then? * Previously, "Mapping new and future art spaces in Mexico City."

* Image above, via Kurimanzutto.

Control your magic, Part 2

Above, converging in the middle of Mexico City with a French-Iranian curator and art worker from New York, and a Zacatecas pocho artist and "wanderer" from San Francisco, swapping secrets on crocheting and crystals, mythologies both ancient and contemporary, and on how similar Mexico City is to Tehran -- as anyone who's been to both places always concurs.

More here, here, here, and here. You get the sense this sort of thing happens all the time, in 2009 in the bellybutton of the moon, guided by ideal convergences. The idea struck me as I walked the other night in the rain on a strip of Calzada de Tlalpan dotted with thumping cantinas, transgendered sex workers, and the local Chinese.

* Previously, "Control your magic."

Control your magic

* Above, one of the Seven Muses of Mexico City, and ONDA FUZOO, on a casual mid-week afternoon in downtown D.F.

There is no better way to put this than in the most abstract terms: It is another season of change, challenges, growth, development, the tearing down of walls and the breaking through of membranes. Everywhere I look, stuff is crumbling apart then coming back together in another form. This is not often pretty, very often difficult, but most certainly necessary. Love provokes and provides.

That's life in upside-down Mexico City in the unusually dry mid-late summer of 2009. The city heaves. So we must be brave.

Just like, you might say, the stance of the two worthy football rivals who took to the field at the grand Estadio Azteca on Wednesday. Mexico emerged triumphant in the end, restoring "order to its universe." But greater battles loom on the horizon.

The same day, a measure of justice is achieved for the ghosts of Acteal. But again, it's only the beginning. Today August 13 is the 488th anniversary of the fall of Tenochtitlan. The neo-indigenistas are gathering at the Zócalo as dusk falls, drumming and howling to the moon, in honor of our mangled roots. Imbalances, as a friend said wisely on Sunday, create new balances.

NOTE: This blog stays dark for at least another quincena. I'm writing, fighting with writing, starting new projects, closing others. My only advice to you is: Control your magic. Hunt and gather. And, as I said before ...

Mexican divers: Going for gold, and alcoholism?

* Espinosa, via Getty Images.

Mexican diver Paola Espinosa stunned the reigning Olympic gold medalist Chen Ruolin in the 10-meter platform event at the World Championships in Rome last week. Beating the powerhouse Chinese in diving is no small feat. "I have worked hard all my life," she told reporters later. "Now my next goal is to confirm this gold medal at the Olympic Games in London 2012."

After track star Ana Guevara didn't deliver the gold at Athens and Sydney, then turned to politics, Espinosa will be Mexico's athlete to root for at the London Games. A 22-year-old native of Baja California, Espinosa won the bronze in synchronized diving with partner Tatiana Ortiz in Beijing last year.

Meanwhile, fellow diver Yahel Castillo (who was named among the "sexiest athletes" at the Games in Beijing) is still a contender for Olympic glory but is also turning into a bit of a disappointment. Mexican diving officials sanctioned Castillo for allegedly arriving drunk at an event at the World University Games in Belgrade earlier this month. He apologized in an interview with Televisa Sports, and asked for forgiveness: "The atmosphere at a University meet is not the same as a World meet or the Olympic Games."

The 22-year-old diver was allowed to compete in Rome after all. Today, Yahel advanced to the finals in the 3-meter diving board event.

Máximo González: Dead money brought to life *

Born in Argentina and based in Mexico City, Máximo González is a contemporary artist perhaps best known for his inspired use of devalued currencies. I first mentioned his work in this post on the "Poetics of the Handmade" show at MOCA in Los Angeles two years ago.

The above clip documents "Inflation," an installation he did recently at MUAC on the UNAM campus. It consists of 1,000 metallic balloons left to deflate into a field of crumpled, shimmering plastic -- for months. When I caught it, a silvery light had been placed above the space, giving the whole work an alien kind of glow. The balloons are printed with the figure 10c on one side and the insignia of the Mexican republic on the other, representing coins that are hardly used any longer, deflating before our eyes.

Watch Máximo talk about his work with dead money here; it's a highly recommended mini-doc. "The work with the money in particular is that," he says, "Use all the significances, concepts, ideas, the histories of the countries, the symbols, and with humor and irony ... trap them, give it a meaning, and make it more valuable."

Towers of downtown L.A.

Above, view from the floor of California Plaza up to the towers of Grand Avenue, shimmering as always. I've had a great but busy time in Los Angeles so far, seeing friends, reconnecting with people, enjoying the hospitality.

Things are constantly shifting in the core of L.A., so we've been faithfully investigating the blips: In downtown I've seen Casa, Cole's, and Bar 107. I've had a bento to-go in Koreatown and I've burned fresh sage in a backyard in South Pasadena. As might be expected, phantom developments sit empty or unfinished all over the city. The saturated, negative-feeling hipsterfication of Echo Park is seriously painful to watch.

I checked out Moustache Mondays at La Cita downtown after having been at the original few iterations of the night back in '07. And then Mas Exitos Tuesday night for "dirty Latin sounds from outer space" at the comfortable Verdugo Bar in Glassell Park, the nicest new node I've seen so far.

But we still gotta go here and here, our OG spots ...

Reminder to Intersections readers: I'm speaking Thursday night at MOCA as part of the Zocalo Public Lecture Series. If you plan on attending, it's a good idea to go to the site and make free reservations. Friends and I are thinking of putting together a late after-party somewhere; stay tuned at my Twitter feed for the info.

And here, you can find audio from my talk on Tuesday with Gustavo Arellano on 90.7 KPFK-FM. I return to the mellow state-of-mind in San Diego-Tijuana on Friday.

Contempo's night at DFashion

Contempo, a Mexico City modeling agency, closed DFashion last night with a special anniversary show featuring work by many of the city's young designers: EGR, Te Amo, Denise Marchebout, Carlos Temores, Mancandy, Marvin y Quetzal, Trista, Malafacha, and others.

It was a packed event. Rafa Cuevas of Te Amo DJ'd during the runway presentation and for the after-party, which went on until ... until way way too late. Above, Rafa and Zemmoa. And here, an intriguing art-fashion-music video they did together in 2007.

* More shots from the fuzzy night here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.

Just say no to candids

* At the one-year anniversary of Marrekech Salon, last Thursday.

Getting into Lady Gaga

At first, who doesn't want to hate on Lady Gaga? Everything about her is extreme hyper-pop, she vaguely resembles old Christina Aguilera (or is it the other way around?), and it feels like her persona is about overproducing recycled New York/L.A. party monster looks from the past few years.

Whatever. Point is, Gaga is very, very hungry -- and entirely herself. That's something I can respect. From Rolling Stone:

Lady Gaga's devotion to being a star drove her to order bags of cocaine and spend hours perfecting her hair and makeup in a tiny Lower East Side apartment after she dropped out of NYU several years ago — well before she was actually famous. "It was quite sick," she admits. "I suppose that's where the vanity of the album came from." Her debut, The Fame, was almost entirely inspired by her relationship with a heavy-metal drummer named Luke, and their breakup profoundly changed Gaga. She tells Hiatt she's bisexual, but her attraction to women is purely physical. It's an aspect of her sexuality that makes boyfriends "uncomfortable," she says.

In December, Gaga told The Times of London, where she already has a large fan base:

"Some artists are working to buy the mansion or whatever the element of fame must bear, but I spend all my money on my show," she says of her impressive stage set. "I don't give a f*** about money. What am I going to do with a condo and a car? I can't drive."

When she started popping up on the radar stateside earlier this year, I asked my friend Nina Tahash about Gaga, commenting to her that this pop star looked very East L.A. to me, her attitude, her look. Nina replied: 'No she's real jersey tranny NYC clubkid fag hag.'

Fine by me. Pop is pop.

* L.A. designer Brian Lichtenberg is reportedly doing some of Lady Gaga's costumes. Above, Gaga doing a live acoustic version of "Fooled Me Again, Honest Eyes" on KIIS-FM in Los Angeles. More points: She writes her own music.

On Bolaño, and LaChapelle in conversation

Amanda Lepore "is the Zona Rosa," David LaChapelle says in my interview with him, found right now in the April-May issue of the Mexico City fashion, arts, and design magazine 192.

She's "such a perfect example of self-creation," LaChapelle adds. "People will say, 'Oh, I reinvented my career.' ... Well, yeah, but you kinda look the same. But here's someone who was born a boy named Armand and mistreated and abused as a kid, who is now like this glamorous sex symbol. So there's something very transcendent about that."

I met with LaChapelle while he was in town for the opening of an exhibit of his work at San Ildefonso. He says in the Q&A, published in Spanish, that his recent "mural" series are "more understood" in Mexico because of its heritage of muralism, and that since he works mostly in Los Angeles, Latin American style and culture has always influenced him.

Earlier in the issue, I wrote an appreciation in Spanish on author Roberto Bolaño (see previous posts here and here). An excerpt:

Bolaño, en su vida y en su obra, estaba obsesionado con las historias, las tempestades, y las fallas de otros escritores. Los cuentos de Bolaño crecen siempre de la perspectiva de poetas o lectores apasionados de la literatura –- y casi siempre estos son jóvenes, idealistas, distraídos, y en caminos trágicos y quijotescos. Desde Amuleto, novela que trata de una jóven poeta escondida en un baño en la UNAM durante el tome militar del campus en 1968, hasta 2666 y Los detectives salvajes, que narra la historia de una banda de poetas rebeldes que inician un viaje, tambien hacia el Norte, para descubrir el destino de una poeta que desaparecio misteriosamente cerca de la frontera.

192 is setting a high standard for new fashion editorial in Mexico. If this issue is still out there, there is also an interview with Diane Pernet; a conversation between artists Miguel Calderón and Abraham Cruzvillegas, and collector César Cervantes; and a fashion shoot by César Arellano, with styling by Denise Marchebout and Lizza Freer, and assisting by Uriel Urban.

* BOOK NOTE: My Gatopardo crónica on the 2008 emo riots is included in the anthology "Crónicas de otro planeta," or 'Tales from Another Planet,' the third collection of the best stories in the magazine, covering the recent years.

The book is compiled and edited by Guillermo Osorno and includes pieces by Laura Castellanos, Salvador Frausto Crotte, David Lida, and Fabrizio Mejía Madrid. It's an honor to see my work included in such company.