The House of Tupamaras is a group of Voguing performers based in Bogota, Colombia. They are professionally trained dancers that chose to break from the norm and explore the queerness of their bodies and their everyday self-expressions to turn their art form into a political tool, questioning the double standards of Colombian society. They create impromptu happenings, choreographed dances, kiki balls and have performed on stage with groups such as Pussy Riot, among others. Bogue stands for "Bogota Voguing" and seeks to capture the Tupamaras's attitude, athletic musculature, and spunky personalities. Seeing Voguing as a dance duel, the original music mixes the sounds of two very famous scenes of latino soap operas, that portray violent - but absurd - female fights. The volumetric capture process isolates the dancers and creates a baroque like light and atmosphere.
Santiago Echeverry is a Colombian-American New Media Artist and Professor, with a background in Video Art, Web Design, and Performance Art. He started his artistic career in 1989, participating since then in some of the most important festivals in the world, and he is considered a pioneer in the field of Net Art and Queer Filmmaking in Latin America. In 1992, he graduated top of the inaugural class of the Universidad Nacional de Colombia’s Film and Television School. In 1995, he was awarded the prestigious Fulbright Grant to earn his Master's degree from the Interactive Telecommunications Program at NYU. He started his academic career in 1993, and is currently an Associate Professor and co-founder of the recently created Film, Animation and New Media Department at the University of Tampa. His research is focused on volumetric imaging, interactive web development, and creative coding.
Years ago, my Mother sold her home. Hundreds of high dynamic range digital photos were taken to provide to the real estate agent for the online sale listing. The images were left on an SD card that was strangely stored and subject to environmental degradation.
Disassembling each damaged, barely t...
It was like a dream, filled with grave perfumes, with limpidity and sensuous chimes. A misplaced device in a turbid instant where the mechanisms of humility ring out. A crack obscurely revealing the entrails of nothingness. The memory of surfaces hit by translucent instruments. A well where the a...
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