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NARRATOR: Tijuana is a complicated city,
and a city of many stories.
Our story there is quick and rather narrow,
stemming from an invitation from Christopher Robbins, who
issued our very first art assignment to meet up
with Ghana ThinkTank, the collective he works with who
are doing a project there.
Tijuana is an 18-mile drive south
from San Diego, poised just beyond the busiest
border crossing between the US and Mexico.
There are many different ways to experience this place.
This is not a summary of all that
is good and great to see and eat in Tijuana,
but rather a summary of all that is good and great that we saw
and ate, and a quick document of our time in this
intricate, vital, and ever-changing city.
Oh, and there's going to be a surprise art assignment if you
hang on till the end.
After crossing the San Ysidro border,
we drove straight to Rosarito Beach
to the studio of Hugo Crossway, whom I'd invited
to create an assignment.
He was excited to do it.
But as you'll notice, he wasn't actually there.
He was in Chicago doing a residency
while we were visiting.
And so his delightful studio manager, Pierrette Van Cleave,
met us and showed us around.
I reveled in the masterful draftsmanship and virtuosity
on display.
Hugo's large-scale drawings speak plenty without him there.
But you will soon have a chance to hear from him yourself.
We then returned to Tijuana proper
and walked around the city's main tourist zone, Avenida
Revolucion, a strip of curio shops, discount pharmacies,
restaurants, and bars, whose fate has risen and fallen
with the booms and busts of the city.
We soon turned off the main drag onto Pasaje Rodriguez,
where you're greeted by this mural by Manuel Verona,
depicting a number of Tijuana artists past and present.
The arcade is full of independent cafes, galleries,
shops, and a craft brewery.
Tijuana suffered a huge downturn in tourism in the 2000s,
when drug violence escalated.
And it has never really gotten back to where it used to be.
But the narrative I kept hearing is that the downturn made room
for the rise of the creatives, keen to make things
for each other instead of tourists.
You get a sense of that here.
And also just down the road at Pasaje Gomez, this place
was chock-full of souvenir vendors in the '60s and '70s,
and is now mostly empty.
Like Rodriguez, this arcade is under development
by a dead space reactivation nonprofit,
and is used for events like an annual art walk and concerts.
But it's here that you feel the precariousness
of these efforts.
Much of the creative population is transient.
Many galleries have unposted hours.
And it's not super easy for outsiders to figure it out.
But just as it is, the light was amazing.
And our walk was a welcome respite
from the main avenida, and a fertile site
to begin to consider Tijuana's past and potential future.
We then bypassed Hotel Caesar's, home of the original Caesar
salad, and made our way to Le Caza Club, which was highly
recommended to me by Jace Clayton, the artist who offered
our assignment Quietest Place.
We had an incredible meal whose highlight
was wood-grilled octopus.
And the service was amazing.
And the whole thing was surprisingly reasonably priced.
We began the next day at Caffe Sospeso, a third wave coffee
spot where we enjoyed some lovely and super smooth lattes
and freshly delivered baked goods
while plotting out our day.
Should we have gotten a chemex or pour over or some such?
Probably.
But I shall not bow to hipster coffee pressure.
I shall order whatever I like.
I've yet to broach the topic of driving in Tijuana,
because well, for me, it was mostly terrifying.
We don't have a lot of documentation
of these terrifying moments, because we were all
too terrified to be documenting them.
But I will share with you the experience
of driving through one of the city's many roundabouts.
A number of them have monuments in the middle.
And here you can see the monumento
of Cuahuatamac, the last Aztec emperor
during the Spanish conquest.
And not too far away is Glorietta de Monumento
a la Independencia-- AKA la tijeres, or scissors,
for obvious reasons-- created in honor of those who fought
for Mexican independence.
It's right in front of Centro Cultural Tijuana, the city's
federally funded cultural center, designed
by architects Manuel Rosen and Pedro Ramirez Vasquez, which
I suddenly remembered was the site of a project
by Krzysztof Wodiczko in 2000, where he projected
onto the dome the faces and voices of female workers
in the local maquiladora industry.
We stopped in to see the 15th Northwestern Visual Arts
Biennial.
The exhibition's aim is to quote-- "recognize, strengthen,
stimulate, and disseminate artistic creation
in Northwest Mexico."
And for me, it accomplished that well,
presenting a swath of works that use a rich variety of materials
and approaches, telling the story of an art scene that
is healthy, rigorous, contemplative,
and representative of many different ways of living
and making in the region.
We also checked out Museo de las Californias
inside the cultural center, which
gives an overview of the history of Baja, California
and Tijuana.
This history is presented through text
in Spanish in English, along with a mix
of artifacts, replicas, miniatures,
and quite a few fake cacti.
I learned a lot about the indigenous life in the region.
The horrors of the Spanish conquest,
how awful the Jesuits were, and the rocky history
of this border region.
But I mostly spent my time there contemplating how we represent
history in a compelling way.
What's the best way to tell these stories?
How do we see them when there are few photographs?
Or when we have the objects, but need
to know how they were actually used?
What is the right mix of real artifact and replica
when trying to evoke the past?
We then headed to the Camino Verde neighborhood
to meet up with Christopher and the other members
of Ghana ThinkTank, John Ewing and Carmen Montoya.
You'll meet them in an assignment video soon.
But They're.
Working on the US-Mexico border to collect
the immigration problems and solutions
of people who live there.
They're doing this with the help of Torolab,
a Tijuana-based collective of artists and designers
who research and explore ways to improve urban environments
and the quality of life.
They were meeting at Torolab's La Granja space, a transborder
farm lab and community center, where they had previously
held sessions to workshop ideas for improving the experience
of crossing the border on foot.
It can take hours to do this.
And the workshops yielded all sorts of amazing ideas
and prototypes for carts.
Ghana ThinkTank synthesized these ideas
into a new prototype cart that they were now
assembling and getting ready to test
at the border the next day.
It provides shade from the sun, operates
with a hand crank that would allow its riders to wheel
along at the same pace as those on foot,
and also features iPads and holders
that allow those who identify themselves as quote,
"Americans or immigrants" to either record an immigration
problem, or offer a solution to a problem previously
registered.
A few of the neighborhood kids who
had participated in the workshop came by to say hello
and test it out.
Current building in the sun works up an appetite.
So we headed over to Tacos Salseados for a late lunch.
Considered one of the first taco joints
to embody the Baja Med innovative spirit,
the tacos here are fresh, inventive,
and include a huge variety of salsas and cremas.
They also made an incredibly delicious and indulgent quesa
taco, which involves no shortage of griddled cheese.
It gave us the energy we needed to return to La Granja
and conduct our interview with Ghana ThinkTank, who've
worked together for a decade and clearly enjoy each other.
It was great to reflect on the activities of the day
and think through how their current project fits
in with their past work, and the complexity of the dynamics
at play along the border.
We capped off the evening with yet another delectable meal,
this time at Verde y Crema, and called it a night.
The next day we followed Christopher, Carmen, and John
to the San Ysidro border crossing,
where they unloaded their cart and navigated the hectic scene
with an uncommon calm and composure.
I immediately understood the decision
to paint the cart with bright happy colors,
as it did an excellent job of standing out,
attracting the attention and curiosity of those
who encountered it.
It wasn't supposed to be a practical object.
It was a conversation starter and a way for the group
to enter into meaningful conversations
with those in line about real and deeply complicated issues.
The beauty of what Ghana ThinkTank does
is not to impose their own agenda, but to listen,
not just to people's problems, but also
to the solutions those people suggest.
And here in a line that many people from all over the world
wait in every day and for myriad reasons--
to go to work, to go to school, to see friends, family,
the doctor-- here was Ghana ThinkTank,
kindling discussions about the enormously charged topic
of immigration, right at the crux of where it all goes down.
It was just one day in a process that will unfold over time.
But I was glad to witness this moment of sincere interaction
between the group's members and those whose ideas they
are eager to hear and interpret into real, actionable items.
Then it was back to La Granja, where we had the chance
to talk with Torolab's founder, Raul Cardenas
Osuna, and Ana Martinez Ortega about what they do.
You've heard enough from me.
So let's let them do the talking.
We're an art collective that we've
been together for 21 years.
And the core of our projects are ideas, weird constructions
that people make of ideas of how to live better.
With this thing that go from luxury
to necessity at the level of your skin.
We do projects.
So at some point, Tijuana sadly became the most dangerous city
in this country.
And for some institutions that are international,
city in the world.
At that time, this became the most dangerous neighborhood
and perimeter in the world.
Or at least in this country.
Tijuana in itself as a city, like all Mexican cities are-- I
don't know.
They don't have enough power.
Right?
So a lot of people have to do stuff in order for things
to work out, and think and not fall only
into the hands of the usual suspects of government
and stuff.
So this is part of a larger effort
that we with some universities, some old people
from the neighborhood and of the city.
And I don't know.
Yeah.
That's how we worked out.
And also, these things that a lot of people
work with here in different, different levels.
This is the only hyper violent city
in this country that has turned that around,
because they have not fallen all only
in the hands of politicians.
Right.
And that's quite unique.
Super sad that the city had to fall down in order for it
to do something.
But at least it did something.
And now other places that have done stuff
like that, like Medellin, or Johannesburg,
they're studying us.
They're studying what we have done here in Tijuana,
because it's unique-- in the process of doing art,
in the process of doing music, in the process
of doing astronomy, in the process
of doing even public policy.
Goddamn.
In order for us to do this thing,
we ended up doing a public policy.
With the help of a lot of persons.
But it went through.
That's kind of like our biggest art piece, I guess.
Grab the darn phone, or the iPad.
Or just take your computer and put it in your bag.
Walk around your freaking block.
Right?
And then, I don't know.
Make four parameters of people who
live around your neighborhood.
And start describing those four people.
Right?
Try to see if there is a possibility
to name those people before you meet those people.
You know?
And then meet them.
And see what is the connection that you
have between the image of those people
and who those people really, really are.
And try to see if you have enough capability
to make a bridge, to see if you can at least take
a picture of it, and send it to us.
NARRATOR: We packed up our things
and headed toward the border as the sun was setting.
I couldn't have been happier about this impromptu assignment
giving, which seemed like the perfect way
to cap our time in this illusory city.
Looks can indeed be deceiving.
We weren't here long.
And there are so many good galleries and art
spaces we didn't make it to.
We even joked that this video should be titled just "Trip"
instead of "Art Trip."
But as hackneyed as it sounds, I realized
in this transitory place, it is nevertheless
the people who make Tijuana.
It's the long-term cultural workers like Torolab
who make up the city, as well as the shorter term
interventionists like Ghana ThinkTank.
It's both those who stay who determine its cultural makeup,
as well as those who are constantly flowing in and out,
starting things and leaving them, like us.
And I was glad to be part of it for an instant.
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