Avenue of the Americas
On view through November 19, 2010

Julieta Aranda
Tiger, Tiger...
(The Institutionalized Revolution), 2010
Concrete, steel, rubble, wood
9.3’ x 6.5’ x 5.5’
Courtesy of the artist
Borrowing images from Latin American television history, Julieta Aranda displays a large concrete-sculpture portraying a derelict rendition of the original logotype for media conglomerate Grupo Televisa, the largest media empire in the Spanish-speaking world. This highly recognizable symbol was designed by the Mexican architect Pedro Ramírez Vázquez, who shares authorship for such landmark designs as the branding of the Mexico City Olympics and the 1970 FIFA World Cup. This distressed and recognizable corporate emblem is coupled with a dedication plaque featuring a quotation by the autocratic media tycoon and Televisa owner Emilio “El Tigre” Azcárraga (1930-1970) — as an example of his character, “El Tigre” was know to own a large oversize chair which he would make visitors to his office sit in as a measure of intimidation. Azcárraga’s office was destroyed by an earthquake, which rocked Mexico City in 1985. This event is referenced in the ruined nature of Aranda’s sculpture both for it’s historical, but also, its metaphorical resonances. Like today’s rhetoric around the media empire of Rupert Murdoch and Fox’s promotion of a “Republican mindset,” Televisa was known for its unbinding support of the right-of-center political party PRI (Party of the Institutionalized Revolution), which ruled Mexico unilaterally and uncontested for over 70 years. Yet, in addition to controlling Mexican political reporting through Televisa’s equally uncontested monopoly, Azcárraga also helped to shape Mexico’s own public image through his signature entertainment programming, featuring widely popular telenovelas and mariachi variety shows. Taken all together, this installation’s balancing act which blends together symbols of Azcarraga’s influence, intends to highlight the paradoxes present in the construction of a shared Latin American identity, while also examining the fabric of Mexican politics during the second half of the 20th century.

Carlos Motta with David Sanin Paz (horticulture)
America’s Possession and Dispossession, 2010
Wood, rocks, soil, iron, tropical botanicals
80' X 11' X 8'
Courtesy of the artist
In order to re-brand the Avenue of the Americas, Carlos Motta with David Sanin Paz (horticulture) created a garden featuring banana trees, passion vines, and other tropical plants from around North and South America shaped to spell out the word: AMERICA’S. This intentional use of the possessive form repositions the exhibition and the Avenue’s plurality (Avenue of the Americas), into a situation of singular ownership. As a living sculpture, this project requires care such as watering and weeding. In the metaphoric sense, this actual maintenance eludes to our own need to upkeep our own “America(s)”. It should also be noted that the plants and soil will be cross-pollinated and “polluted” by bees and wind-carrying seeds from points elsewhere, nurturing an ever growing and developing wild body, depending on what species are accepted. The list of original Pan-American plants are: Solanum Quitoense (Peru and Ecuador), Verbena Bonariensis (Argentina), Dichondra Silver Falls (South East United States of America), Passiflora Kewensis (Brazil), Passiflora Vitifolia (Central America), Passiflora Sunburst (Venezuela), Ipomoea Kniolas Black ( American Tropics), Senecio Confusus (Mexico), Agastache Apricot Sunrise (North America), Juncus Effusus 'Unicorn' (Eastern United States), Nicotiana Langsdorfii (Brazil).

Judi Werthein
La Caca de los Dioses, 2010
Pawnshop jewerly, bronze, phonetic translation in Argentine dialect
of Julio Cortazar's “Instrucciones para Llorar:”
12” x 12” plaque
Courtesy of the artist
Taking the form of many memorials found in public spaces, Judi Werthein presents an honorific plaque inscribed with Argentine writer Julio Cortázar’s (1914 –1984) “Instructions On How To Cry.” In addition to bronze, the plaque itself is comprised of melted gold, silver, and even a solo diamond. Werthein collected the raw materials for this project by purchasing jewelry, often inscribed, from pawnshops throughout New York City frequented by lower income communities. The traces of these lost treasures, crosses, rings, pendants, charms, and the like can still be seen as some are partially embedded into the final plaque. For the inscription of the Cortázar text, Werthein worked with a speech pathologist to “translate” the original Spanish text in such a way that it can be sounded out and recited by a native English speaker in the distinctive Argentine accent. The original, the English, and the phonetic translations can be found in the Avenue of the Americas newspaper catalog distributed on site for free.

Carla Zaccagnini
Alfabeto Fonético Aplicado II, 2010
61 anodized aluminum plaques
27.6" x 11.8" per plaques
Courtesy of the artist
“Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta,” or A, B, C, and D, is the beginning of the NATO Phonetic Alphabet, an international code language used by air traffic controllers, ships, and others to prevent transmission errors. Even though this system is utilized as a “universal tongue” it is replete with references to Anglophone culture, such as “Foxtrot,” “Yankee,” and “Whiskey.” In order to create a more inclusive alphabet, Carla Zaccagnini has created a new code that blends a greater set of cultural references, for example: “Ninja” for N and “Yoga” for Y. For Avenue of the Americas, Zaccagnini uses this new alphabet to create a short encoded sentence on the Darién Gap, a 91-mile long “missing link” in the 29,800-mile Pan-American Highway. In its encoded form, the sentence reads as a long quasi-surrealist poem (“THEY” for example reads Taxi-Harem-Eden-Yoga) printed and mounted on 61 red and white custom-made “streets signs” hung throughout LentSpace. When collected together, these plaques will take on various other allusions, such as a giant theater marquee, a set of imaginary way finding devices for explorers in the wild untouched jungles that fill the Darién Gap, or as playful parodies of the highway signs that line Canal Street and the entrance to the Holland Tunnel. The Darién Gap itself, besides being the missing link in the Pan-American Highway, is also a site of many competing interests from being protected by environmentalists as one of the most “natural” places on earth, to the home of the indigenous Embera-Wounaan and Kuna people, to a land barrier preventing the spread of foot and mouth disease, to an outback for drug running activities, to a haven for adventurists. For those unable to crack the code, a key is provided in the exhibition’s newspaper catalog available for free, on site.

