misaa – minoritario

[pn156]

misaa

“minoritario”

At times, a tent appears in the hallways of a giant shopping center announcing a collective desire to elope. The times of cynicism and sitting on the beach chair, believing that nothing was going to melt from its foundations, are over.

The exercise of power is a pressure cooker, using (re)pression. Machinery requires to generate a drowning, and drown every slap made by the oppressed. It represses it with physical and economical violence, and with tons of images alluding to static structures. A majority category, a common point, to agree, but fundamentally unreachable and inaccessible in its totality. And there is a minority counterpart: poor, ugly, violeted, spectator of its own minority but immersed in the dream of being included, someday, by the majority.

But there is a third category, the one who does not want or need to continue playing the rules of a game that was created so that they would lose it. People with defective bodies, physically weak, second-level genres, depressed, shy and mutant, although they don’t stop moving. They require shaking and articulating themselves, know each other and look at each other, and so they realize that they were not so alone, and that they did not need the normality that the repressive images proposed to them. Seek the not obvious and realize yourself as a constant flow, that shakes and makes uncomfortable the status; questions, says and screams, and whose only way to be stopped completely, to be killed, is by condemning it to oblivion. Unfortunately, we have a good memory.

“minoritario” is an album that inserts us in a constant intermittency. Short rhythms and textures that draw a landscape where we are forced to be alert. The challenge of paying attention and perceiving what is around usduring a change of decade where we have the challenge of living with uncertainty every day. Musical pieces that announce the arrival of a momentthat does not stop becoming present, and in turn the challenge of facing what surrounds usto follow our constant march.

César Fuenzalida.
Comunicador Audiovisual.
(Santiago, junio / June, 2020)

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