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The landmine project

Project

Project

Authorship

Colectivo Agencia de Borde

Location

Arica, San Pedro de Atacama. Chile. Tacna, Perú. Nueva York, USA

Years

2014-2023

‘The Landmine project’ is part of Border Agency art collective. In it, the cultural construction of landscape is explored, particularly in relation to the minefields of the Atacama Desert. We begin with the question of what role does technology play in mediating our experience of landscape? Considering the minefields as a singular case of landscape that can only be experienced as mediated, we propose to visualize that subject-space-technology that define the experience of the contemporary landscape. To investigate this concern we use two strategies of artistic research; the production of a technologically mediated (drone, video, photography) and also the creation of an imagined image of a landscape through the collective story (map, drawing, conversation).

Fieldwork

We conducted two different fieldworks. First one in January 2016 in San Pedro, and a second one in April 2017 in the limit between Chile and Peru near Arica. For the first field trip the whole team stayed a week in San Pedro de Atacama, located in the high Andes, very close to the border with Bolivia and Argentina. We tackled the minefields in three ways. First, we flighted the drone over the mined territories. We filmed different tours on the land imitating the height and speed of a walker, ie about 2 meters above the ground. In addition, we made a photographic and graphic record of the objects involved in the minefields, including the mines themselves, the mining and demining tools, military vehicles, signage, soil types, vegetation and rocks, among others. Among these materials, we accessed the original military maps with which the minefields were drawn. These same maps, -handmade in the 70 ‘and 80’- are being used today to find and remove mines from the fields. Afterwards we used these drawings as a basis for designing part of the exhibition. Finally, we interviewed approximately 20 people, residents and visitors to the area. We talked with a family of shepherds, tour guides, foreign tourists, academics, students, workers, municipal employees, teachers and military. All of them drew a map representing the way they travel the territory, including minefields. Thus we built a small archive of subjective maps that reveal the intimate and everyday side of minefields and desert landscape of San Pedro.

The second explored territory was the denominated terrestrial triangle, disputed by Chile and Peru, and claimed as their own by both countries. We settled there with a group of 15 artists, from several countries. We arrived cautious, suspicious and fearful about the potential danger of the place. We first worried about solving logistics and personal protection, having enough drinking water, protecting ourselves from the sun, getting used to the meal schedule and getting sleep. We quickly noticed that there were not many comfortable places to be alone. We proposed a collective action that consisted in identifying places around the camp free from anti-personnel mines. Using rods, sticks and branches intervened with reflective tape, we demarcated a limit that allowed at all times – especially during the night – to identify the areas where one could circulate without fear. In this manner, the makeshift stakes began forming a diagram in the territory; a record of our most common routes, which made visible the way we were occupying this space. Once we were settled, the days passed placidly: the beach, the paradisiacal climate, the calm and silence. We had formed a dutiful group, in which people were willing to collaborate with one another, organised at the domestic levels, and only busy with participating in the “utopian citadel” (Alarcón and Saavedra, El Triángulo Terrestre, HAWAPI Catalog 2017) that we had managed to create. However, it was just then that a white municipal truck appeared on the edge of the beach, with officials accusing us of invading the territory with the objective of appropriating it. Our camp on the border also provoked complaints from the residents of the adjacent Peruvian town of Santa Rosa, which resulted in more decisive pressures for our expulsion from the area. What was published by the local press was a lie-truth, in the sense of opening our eyes to a way of seeing things that was not precisely false. Because, by trying to transitorily inhabit a territory, we became – in the eyes of those who inhabit it – invaders of that place.

Exhibitions

Hawapi: Out of Context

PS122 Gallery, Nueva York.USA

September, 2023

Liquid Landscapes: what if the ground under your feet can't be trusted?

Kunstfort bij Vijfhuizen, Vijfhuizen, Holanda

7 July-1 September 2019

Liquid Landscapes: What if the ground under your feet cannot be trusted?

Museo Kunstfort. Vijfhuizen, Holanda.

7 July - 1 September 2019

An explosion

SACO7, Antofagasta, Chile

July-September 2018

Hawapi 2017

Casa de la Cultura San Marcos, Lima / Centro Nacional de Arte Cerrillos, Santiago

October 2017 / March 2018

1980 Constitution

Galería D21, Leipzig, Alemania

March 2017

An Explosion…

MAC Valdivia, Chile

January 2017-March 2017

A dull and deep explosion, not far away

MAC Quinta Normal, Santiago, Chile

12 November 2016 - 22 January 2017

Publications

Linked projects

Border Agency art collective

Santiago, Chile

2012-present

Residencies

Hawapi 2023, New York — «Out of Context» Arriving in New York with Hawapi meant returning to a question we had already grown in an earlier encuentro: what happens when you can’t trust the ground beneath your feet. That question, which we had previously worked through from the desert and its minefields, opened up again on entirely different terrain — a city foreign to our usual territories, where the ground was no longer sand or salt flat but asphalt, bureaucracy, invisible borders. And the question took on a form we hadn’t expected: one member of the group couldn’t travel because his visa was denied. His absence wasn’t an administrative detail but a shared experience for all of us: the ground that was supposed to be solid — the very possibility of crossing a border to think together — turned out to be exactly what we couldn’t rely on. Over eleven days we worked with that fracture as part of the encuentro itself, holding the collective conversation from within that absence too, understanding that being «out of context» wasn’t only a geographic or artistic condition, but something that could also be imposed from outside, without warning, on the bodies and trajectories of those trying to find one another.

New York, USA.

September, 2023

The team travelled for a week to the Hawapi residence camp on the border between Chile and Peru. The work took place in the Terrestrial Triangle, a territory that is disputed between the two countries. They performed demarcation actions aimed at reclaiming the territory. This had unexpected consequences with the inhabitants of the neighbouring town (Santa Rosa). The second territory explored was the Terrestrial Triangle, disputed by Chile and Peru and claimed as their own by both countries. We settled there with a group of 15 artists from various countries in April 2017. We arrived cautious, suspicious and fearful of the potential danger of the place, so we were first concerned about sorting out logistics and personal protection, having enough drinking water, protection from the sun, getting used to the meal schedule and getting to sleep. We quickly realised that there were not many comfortable places to be alone and proposed a collective action that consisted of marking places around the camp that were cleared of landmines. By means of sticks, poles and branches intervened with reflective tape, we demarcated a boundary that would make it possible at all times – especially at night – to identify the areas where people could walk without fear. The set of improvised stakes were thus building a diagram in the territory, a record of our most common routes that made visible the way in which we were occupying this space. Once installed, the days passed placidly: the beach, the paradisiacal climate, the calm and the silence. We had formed a group concerned with their work and with collaborating on each other’s activity, organised on domestic levels and only concerned with participating in the “utopian citadel” (Alarcón and Saavedra, Triángulo Terrestre, HAWAPI Catalogue 2017) that we had managed to create. But it was just then that a white municipal van appeared at the edge of the beach, with officials accusing us of trespassing and taking over the territory. Our encampment on the border also provoked complaints from the inhabitants of the neighbouring Peruvian town of Santa Rosa, which resulted in further pressure for our expulsion from the area. What was published in the local press was a lie-truth, in the sense that it opened our eyes to a way of seeing things that was not false. By trying to inhabit a territory in a transitory way, we had become invaders of that place in the eyes of those who inhabit it.

Triángulo terrestre, frontera entre Perú and Chile.

April 2017

Outreach and mediation

Support and funding

This project was possible thanks to Fondart de Nuevos Medios 2014 , Fondart Circulación Regional 2017 and the collaboration of The National Commission for Humanitarian Demining. For the exhibition, we collaborate with Javier Jaimovich and Matías Vilaplana.

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