Travel Notes on Mestizaje and Technoscience

On the dynamics of mestizaje and technoscience in contemporary art and design practices in Latin America

Tania Aedo

Director, Laboratorio Arte Alameda, Mexico City

Keywords: mestizaje, technoscience, art, science, technology, Mexico, Laboratorio Arte Alameda, knowledge, obsolescence, innovation

The following text is a report on mestizaje and technoscience, written during a series of trips that I propose as field trips. I will try to track down, while in transit, some of the singular dynamics of mestizaje as an active and problematic category—not an intersection of pure races, but one of different cultures that produces a new culture—and their relation to technoscience. Meanwhile, technoscience will be seen not only as the intersection between practices, but also as a change in decision-making and the organization of scientific knowledge. This report is being written as I participate in specific events—all related to the relationships between art, science, and technology—taking place from the beginning of February to the end of March 2016 in various cities: the closing ceremony of the International Year of Light 2015 at Chichén Itzá in Merida; the meeting of the grant recipients of the Mexican Ministry of Culture’s emerging artists program at the Ex-Hacienda de Chautla in Puebla; the symposium on Cultivos, an exhibition by Gilberto Esparza at Laboratorio Arte Alameda in Mexico City; and Common(s) Sense City Symposium at Taubman College, University of Michigan Detroit.

A trip of four stops, undertaken with a short bibliography in my suitcase, and the questions proposed in this edition’s thesis:

How is technology embodied, transformed, assimilated, and appropriated in Latin American art and design? What are the characteristic markers of technoscience in Latin America? What are the roles of Latin American traditions and scientific knowledge in the production of digital media art, and what are the influences of Western scientific rationale and technical expertise? And, going further, how is Latin American technology-based art influencing artistic production in the West?

Three considerations need to be taken into account before the departure. First, this brief reflection on a major subject through the former set of questions needs to be localized, and any attempt at being exhaustive or generalizing Latin America as a whole needs to be avoided. Second, it shall resist using mestizaje as an unproblematic category. The third consideration is about the emergence of technoscience and its relationship with an epistemic turn in art. The origin of technoscience is considered here in relation to philosopher and mathematician Javier Echeverría from Spain. He traced a revolution that began in the state and the military, and then spread to the private business sector, resulting in the need for government regulation and policy—basically, the need for the integration of corporations and the military in scientific committees. [1]

Art, science, and technology have been related for a long time, as media theory and archaeology have consistently shown in many different ways. From the Deep South in Latin America, we can trace many key figures fueling this conversation. Among the most important may be biologist Humberto Maturana and neuro-philosopher Francisco Varela, two scientists who, under any circumstance, could be regarded as positivists or reductionists, and two intellectuals who have influenced the ideas of many in the so-called West. From Mexico’s contribution to cybernetics (e.g., the work of physiologist Arturo Rosenblueth and mathematician Norbert Wiener), to contributions from Chilean Fernando Flores, to the present science of the control of machines and humans—these are just a few examples of Latin America’s hiatus that is still not well-represented in media histories. On the other hand, what Jorge Luis Borges called “reasoned imagination,” referring to the genre known in Western literature as science fiction, might be quite close to certain intersections between art, science, and technology today. Long before that, we can trace the Mapuches who sent code signs by shaking trees over vast amounts of territory, and Mayan design. More recently, we can cite conceptual artistic approaches to scientific and technological issues, as in Brazil’s concrete and neo-concrete movements. Or we can look to avant-garde proposals like Vicente Huidobro’s novel-film Cagliostro (1934) or the Estridentismo movement in Mexico.

Today’s art is related to knowledge in particular forms: media scholar Jens Hauser has proposed an “epistemic turn” in art, meaning a kind of art not presenting knowledge but showing how knowledge is being produced through an aesthetic object. [2] The emergence of technoscience has posed specific questions and problems for artists dealing with scientific or technological subjects. What I would like to trace here is precisely those problematics through my reflection on particular events and projects.

Stop 01

02/06/16 Merida, Yucatan
Closing Ceremony of the International Year of Light and Light-based Technologies (IYL), organized by UNESCO

Merida is the first stop. One event after another takes place, filled with moments in which both concepts (mestizaje and technoscience) emerge and take singular forms in art projects, symposia, and everyday experiences. In this trip to Merida mestizaje and technoscience were manifested through this region’s ancient culture and its post-colonial present, as well as in the diverse approaches to science and technoscience present at the Closing Ceremony of the IYL. This was an event devoted to raising awareness of the many ways in which light, optics, and photonics impact our lives in areas such as energy, education, climate change, and health. There was a lecture by Nobel Prize winner John Mather, who emphasized how astronomers look back in time by using light, the discovery of the expansion of the universe with a telescope, and the hope of finding life elsewhere by using light at many wavelengths. The event also addressed practical topics, such as harvesting solar energy and the ecological need to preserve dark skies.

With Chichén Itzá’s main temple of Kukulkán right in front of us, one of Mexico’s leading theoretical astrophysicists Dr. Jesús Galindo displayed the complex and precise calculations that Mayan architects had executed in the design of the magnificent device we were looking at. Using visualization software, he represented the amazing geometry made by the Maya to achieve these structures’ orientation, the systematic observation of the main objects in the sky (the sun, the moon, and Venus), and the prediction of astronomical phenomena such as eclipses. A culture that apparently evolved in isolation from other centers of civilization, the Maya developed a sophisticated and complex writing system. Between the years 200 and 900 AD, they created a highly accurate variant of the calendar and their vigesimal number system included zero. Walking around some of the buildings, one can experience meticulously calculated acoustic effects—our clapping is responded to by an electronic-like sound, a sweeping echo that people say resembles the Quetzal bird’s song. These temples can be seen as instruments with many different sensorial and responsive capabilities, and they are starting to be studied in the field of archaeoacoustics. [3]

There is a topic that is never missing in a conversation about the city of Merida—namely, the “rise and fall” of the “green gold” industry, which refers to henequén, a type of agave (a plant species native to southern Mexico). This was an industry that, at the beginning of the twentieth century, was said to have generated more millionaires per capita than any other place on the planet. They used to distribute 90% of the fiber ropes consumed globally at the time. Haciendas that used to produce henequén are mostly abandoned now, and some of them are tourist sites. After the Mexican revolution in 1910, and because of the rise of the synthetic fibers industry, demand for henequén ropes abruptly stopped. For a detailed study on the subject I consult Yucatan, Economy and Industry. [4]

Among the publications distributed at the IYL 2015 closing event, I found a special report on Mexico in the Physics World journal. An interview with the director of the National Science and Technology Council (CONACYT), Mexico’s scientific research funding agency, calls my attention. [5] Dr. Enrique Cabrero answers questions related to scientific research and innovation. He discusses in which areas Mexico excels, how good Mexico is at innovation, and what the number-one challenge is for science in Mexico. In Dr. Cabrero’s words, there is a very strong physics community and a good tradition in astronomy. We are also better now in biotechnology and doing well in nanoscience. One of our biggest problems, he answers, is that Mexico doesn’t have good links between industry, academia, and government, so the resulting new knowledge is not transferred to the industry. An important remark made by Cabrero on the biggest challenge for research, and quite relevant to this inquiry, is that society doesn’t yet value scientific knowledge. He states that surveys suggest that 60% of Mexicans believe more in magic than in science; they think scientists are weird, and so it is necessary to convince citizens, entrepreneurs, and politicians of the importance of investment in science. Historically, he remarks, society felt science was good, but it was seen as a decorative window-dressing like art or music.

One of the texts traveling with me is Elogio del mestizaje: Historia, lenguaje y ciencia (Praise for mestizaje: history, language and science). [6] Physicist and historian José Manuel Sánchez Ron was elected as candidate and selected as a member of the Royal Academy of Spain. In this text dedicated to the members of the Academy, he addresses language as a vehicle of life and asks: how could we understand the enormous differences between the first exemplars of our species and ourselves without taking into account science and technology, which affects us “to the marrow of the bones”? In his praise for mestizaje he states that he is not referring to its first meaning in the Spanish dictionary— the crossing of two races—an update for which he would be partly responsible. Such a definition is a dangerous notion, he states, if we are to apply it to our species because there are no “pure” races but rather, species. Even if we try to raise genetic frontiers they would be imaginary frontiers that are based on a desire for differentiation, not on scientific knowledge. If we are to continue using the term “race” when we talk about humans, it should be in a cultural sense, not in a biological one. The text continues with a dissertation on disciplinary mestizaje in science, ranging from the tragic vicissitudes of Aristotle’s writings to nonlinear sciences.

At the Light in the Arts panel of the IYL 2015 closing event, I talked about a set of projects dealing with light at Laboratorio Arte Alameda. I realize that, surprisingly, two of them are closely related to the questions I try to trace in this report. I start with a project that was inspired precisely by Chichén Itzá: Solar, by Rejane Cantoni and Leonardo Crescenti, installed at Laboratorio Arte Alameda in 2012. This immersive and interactive work consists of an arc and a robotic light that simulates the trajectories of the sun. Participants supply the coordinates of a city and a specific moment in time. As a response, they receive the direction, the intensity, and the sensation of the heat and light that the sun radiated at that specific time-space. The artists visited the same archaeological site where the closing ceremony took place when they came to Mexico to receive the Transitio_MX first prize in 2009. I remember a great conversation with them about this archaeological site—on its sound responsiveness that resembled the almost extinct chant of the Quetzal bird, and the very subtle mix of formal and aesthetic elements that gives the Kukulkán temple its status as an observatory and ceremonial site. How far in time and, to some extent, how close is this ancient project from current intersections of art, science, and technology?

The second project I presented on the panel was Erick Meyenberg’s Étude taxonomique et comparative entre les castes de la Nouvelle Espagne et celles du Mexique contemporain (Taxonomic and comparative study between the castes of the reign of the New Spain and that of Contemporary Mexico). This is a light installation consisting of twenty columns formed by 205 polycarbonate rings with LEDs, installed at Laboratorio Arte Alameda in 2010 as part of the exhibition Revolucion(es), curated by historians Esther Acevedo and Rosa Casanova. The piece was commissioned for the exhibition, which was organized to reflect on the Mexican Revolution after 100 years. The work referred directly to mestizaje. It was a critique of the anthropological and scientific views on the subject of post-revolutionary approaches, and of the present “decoding” of the so-called Mexican genome promoted by the government around the time of the Revolution’s one hundred anniversary. DNA was visualized through red, green, and blue LEDs representing Black, Indian, and European bloods. Meyenberg delved into the ideas of Manuel Gamio, considered the “father of anthropology” in Mexico. He discussed Gamio’s notion of utopian mestizaje, which would ultimately give rise to a unique and authentic national identity. As Meyenberg says in an interview conducted for the exhibition catalog, Manuel Gamio was a key figure in the construction of the institutions aimed to regulate the relationship between the state and indigenous communities. Some of Gamio’s texts were presented by Meyenberg in a documentation area, along with sketches and reproductions of paintings representing the castas or social-racial strata system that was used as a kind of taxonomy to reflect the process of mestizaje in the New World. [7]

By this time, both categories—mestizaje and technoscience—have expanded in many different directions.

Stop 02

Mexico City
Symposium about Cultivos, an exhibition by Gilberto Esparza at Laboratorio Arte Alameda

Cultivos is close to its last days at Laboratorio Arte Alameda. This is the exhibition’s second venue after Espacio Fundación Telefónica in Lima, Peru. The third session of the seminar organized around the exhibition is focused on the disciplinary intersections generated by Esparza’s projects, especially by the work entitled Autophotosynthetic Plants, which won the Ars Electronica Golden Nica in 2015. Present at the table, in addition to the artists, are representatives of two disciplines: philosophy of technology (Liliana Quintero) and synthetic biology (Laura Espinosa-Asuar).

Autophotosynthetic Plants comprises a community of living organisms (protozoa, crustaceans, microalgae, and aquatic plants) that achieve homeostatic equilibrium through the production of photosynthesis in the absence of the sun or any external light. The work uses sewage samples from the main sites of the water supply system in the city where it is installed. It generates energy through a set of modular, microbial fuel cells that develop colonies of bacteria whose metabolism produces electricity released as bursts of luminous energy. I think it is a work that puts the audience into the role of both the inquirer and the subject of study.

In a previous session at this symposium, media scholar and curator Jens Hauser talked about “epistemic turns” and how he considers the present to be one. This is a hypothesis I would like to trust and try to use throughout this article. I would like to turn to his answer to the question about why critics have been so conceptually loose in their approach to “contemporary media art” or any other named category used to describe the intersections between art, science, and technology. Hauser explained that critical theory has failed to include the Kantian idea of the “mathematical sublime” in its approaches to contemporary media art. He did not say that it is not happening, but that it is not happening enough. And I remember a critique of Rafael Lozano-Hemmer’s exhibition at the National Autonomous University of Mexico’s (UNAM) contemporary art museum (MUAC) that was not able to explain why it is important to pose artistic questions about sophisticated technology as well as “low” technology. Thinking through old, new, low, high, conceptual, or expressive machines is important.

One of the researchers at the table, biologist Laura Espinosa-Asuar, is part of a team at UNAM’s Institute of Ecology, where she is studying microorganism communities in the Cuatro Ciénagas Basin, an important ecological reserve in northeastern Mexico. This is a unique site, considered to be a natural laboratory because of the presence of seventy endemic species, an abundance of living stromatolites (solid structures created by single-celled microbes called cyanobacteria, which are blue-green algae), and other microbial communities. Autophotosynthetic Plants is relevant to Espinosa-Asuar’s research: its importance is considered in terms of the type of information it generates and its capacity to trigger conversations about important relations. The artist and the biologist are currently collaborating on a research paper.

Another participant, Liliana Quintero, was a graduate and postgraduate student of philosophy at UNAM, and coordinator at the research lab at Centro Multimedia, National Center for the Arts in Mexico City. It was precisely Liliana who addressed Javier Echeverría’s interpretation of the term “technoscience,” and started proposing relationships with the forms of knowledge present in Gilberto Esparza’s work. I remember a talk by the Spanish philosopher at Centro Multimedia many years ago, in which he proposed an axiology or set of values developed for technoscientific industries to operate under an ethics directed towards decreasing their damage to the biosphere. Speakers at the symposium coincided with each other at specific points during the conversation. Environmental and philosophical issues produce intersections at ethical questions. This is one of the singular moments when the kind of experiences we name “interdisciplinary” emerges.

Stop 03

Ex-Hacienda de Chautla, Puebla
Meeting of the grant recipients of the program devoted to emerging artists by Mexico’s Fondo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes (FONCA, National Fund for Culture and the Arts)

FONCA has been active since 1989, and its program for emerging artists began supporting art and technology research and production just a few years after its creation. Twenty generations ago I took part in this program with a project on virtual reality, which consisted of a series of avatars to wear in communities on the Internet. Among the changes I perceive from then to now is the way digital and other technologies have permeated across disciplines. And if there was something that we could call “multimedia art”—the term used in the program to differentiate practices focused on science and technology—it has also been in close dialogue and intersection with many forms of knowledge. It is now part of the contemporary arts scene as a whole and seems to have also carried its own specificity along the way.

At the interdisciplinary meeting that gathers participants from all areas, I find out that there is a poet working on the subject and media of emojis in quite an interesting way. Another participant presents a narrative project dealing with scientific topics, reminding me of a long tradition that was not represented until recently. Electronic and contemporary music are also better represented now. I don’t think people ask if one can make art with a computer anymore. We put lots of time into that conversation twenty years ago, when the Greek concept of tejne, meaning art and technology, was my “card up my sleeve.”

Many forms of mestizaje occur at the general presentation. A non-native speaker of Náhuatl presents a fragment of a narrative work written in this indigenous language. I like that this happens outside the group formed by writers of indigenous communities.

Throughout the sessions of the specific group I am co-tutoring with Hugo Solís, a Mexican artist and media art professor. Questions about art and its intersection with science and technology are constantly referred to. Projects are quite diverse in several senses—the members of the group have been trained in schools of music, visual arts, music production, media arts, and design. Although none of them are into fields like computer science or engineering, one of the first ideas upon which the group agrees is the claim for computational creativity. Among their influences and references I find many musicians and sound artists: Pauline Oliveros (US), Alvin Lucier (US), Steve Connor (UK), Ariel Guzik (Mexico), Llorenc Barber (Spain), Lev Manovich (USSR, US). Our key concepts for the next three-day schedule are: database as symbolic culture, creative participation, listening and reading, words as matter, noise in text, sound sculpture, biological time, automation, and historic sound objects.

Stop 04

Ann Arbor and Detroit
“Common(s) Sense City Symposium and Detroit Conversations,” at Taubman College, University of Michigan

This symposium was organized as part of the Michigan/Mellon Project on Egalitarianism and the Metropolis, a four-and-a-half-year academic and research initiative focused on architecture, urbanism, and humanities research in Detroit, Mexico City, and Rio de Janeiro. Laboratorio Arte Alameda will host an exhibition presenting the results of the research in 2017. One of the project’s initiatives is the Architecture Prep. I visit their ground-level venue with a big window in midtown Detroit. AgitProp Activator is a workshop now happening at the program offered to high school students who are planning to study architecture and/or urban design. On top of the tables one can see models of the proposals for urban design that the students had just made as the result of the analysis of two social movements: Black Lives Matter and Occupy Wall Street. They represent aspects of these social movements and integrate this analysis into the design of modular pavilions that will be located in the streets of Detroit.

The symposium gathered architects, urban designers, artists, theorists, lawyers, and members of many other disciplines from Detroit, Mexico, and Rio de Janeiro. The project aims to allow design theory and practice to inform, and be informed by, questions about social justice, social movements, and transformative creative art movements. The two-day symposium was complemented by a series of tours around Detroit, a set of conversations among specialists including reports on urban design in the three cities, and visits to projects focusing on the recovery of the city through different dynamics involving artistic practice.

On our way back to the hotel I recognized the name of a street in one of John Dos Passos’ contributions to The New Republic journal in 1932: the article is entitled “Detroit, City of Leisure,” and the street is Woodward Avenue. This is an important historic site in the United States. It is the same place where Dr. Martin Luther King gave his famous speech, “I Have a Dream.” As Dos Passos wrote, it is a street “of dusty vacancy…[of] unused buildings,” and it is one of the streets onto which “several thousand workless men” were turned out “all over the vast unfinished city.” [8] At the entrance of the hotel there is an electric guitar exhibited like those one can see in rock cafes around the world, only this one is made out of wood reclaimed from abandoned or collapsed Detroit buildings. [9]

Detroit has been experiencing a population decline that began more than eighty years ago, according to Francesca Berardi, author of Detour in Detroit, an interesting publication we found in the Museum of Contemporary Art Detroit. [10] In an interview, Dan Pitera, an urbanist working in Detroit Future City, argues that to understand population decline one most understand the practices of redlining and blockbusting, which have had a great impact on racial segregation. Pitera says that in 1935 the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation was asked to make “residential security maps” based on assumptions like racial homogeneity, thus defining inner city neighborhoods as insecure and suburban neighborhoods as secure. As a result, the housing values in inner cities dropped. Suburban neighborhoods were mostly white, and covenants were made in neighborhoods that were designed to keep them racially homogenous. Consequently, people were rejected for home loans, insurance, etc., without taking into account an individual’s qualifications and credit-worthiness. Furthermore, blockbusting was the practice of people going to the neighborhoods that were deemed insecure and convincing the white residents to leave before “it was too late.”

The Detroit Institute of Arts, site of Diego Rivera’s enormous fresco, Detroit Industry (1932–33), commissioned by Henry Ford, still reigns on Woodward Street. There is something else we share with this avenue: the electric streetcars that were part of the city’s public transportation network (which was dismantled in 1955 by the General Motors Company) were sold to Mexico City. They are building new streetcars right now, and it will take three years to reconnect neighborhoods with public transportation. One can feel the scars that this old transplant left on the city. I can remember the 1950s streetcars still running in Mexico until not too long ago.

At the symposium, the group of Mexican participants included Laura Janka (urban designer and former director of Chapultepec park), Hector Zamora (artist), Arturo Ortiz (architect), and myself. It also included artists Jaki Irvine (originally from Scotland) and Melanie Smith (born in England), Mexico’s representative at the 2011 Venice Biennial.

In my suitcase, and part of the brief book list for this step of the journey, is Melanie Smith’s recent book on her film Fordlandia (2014), which addresses Ford’s failed attempt to establish an industrial settlement for producing natural latex in Brazil’s Amazon region in the 1920s. [11] Ford’s English suppliers of latex had previously transplanted Hevea brasiliensis to Southeast Asia, where it could grow without the threat of the Amazon’s plagues. Very much as in Merida, the emergence of synthetic materials produced out of oil made natural latex practically obsolete. Fordlandia experienced a fast decline and was sold to the Brazilian government in 1945. Due to the remoteness of the site, it was never used again and was rapidly reclaimed by nature, becoming the ruin in the jungle it is today. I brought with me another book by John Dos Passos: The Big Money, part of the trilogy in which Detroit is one of the cities portrayed. [12] There is a character in this novel who had a major influence on the history of Fordlandia—Frederick Winslow Taylor, a mechanical engineer from Pennsylvania who developed and wrote The Principles of Scientific Management, the theoretical machine aimed at administering workers’ movements in the work-flow to enhance productivity. [13] In the novel, Taylor believes he has found that every improvement in the factory’s system would provoke the aggressive opposition of the workers. He used to faint since he was in high school from being overworked. He was close to losing his eyesight from fatigue, and he died after physical prostration in 1915. Perhaps the reasons why he couldn’t calculate nature or society’s opposition to Fordlandia were the same reasons behind the constant collapses in Detroit’s industry, and many others.

Knowledge seems to have conducted the twentieth century’s destiny, and our present is its product. Scientific and technical knowledge not only need to be criticized, but dealt with hands-on. The many ways in which art is dealing with such important phenomena, as well as mestizaje, are worth paying attention to. In Alien Theory: The Decline of Materialism in the Name of Matter, philosopher Ray Brassiere identified a “fundamentally reactionary tenor of contemporary philosophy in its general critique of science as reductive and subjected to fallibility.” [14] Among other works, Bruno Latour also wrote on this subject in the essay, “Why Has Critique Run Out of Steam?” and the book We Have Never Been Modern. [15] There seems to be more need to think about technoscience and its consequences than is currently taking place. Artists and theorists have long been responding to the former provocations, along with many others engaging in cross-disciplinary endeavors.

References and Notes

  1. Javier Echeverría, “La revolución tecnocientífica,” Confines de relaciones internacionales y ciencia política 2 (2005): 9, accessed February 10, 2016,
  2. “This is a phenomenon of our time: after the linguistic turn, the pictorial turn, and the performative turn, we have arrived now at an epistemic or epistemological turn, which basically deals with and analyzes the manner in which knowledge and objects are being presented. So this art is not about presenting knowledge, but about questioning and showing how knowledge is being produced, through an aesthetic object. In my opinion, this kind of art is oriented towards the representation of its production.”; Daniela Silvestrin, “Dialogues on ‘Bioart’ #1: A Conversation with Jens Hauser,” Digicult, accessed February 7, 2016,
  3. Clara Eugenia Garza Hume, et al., “Arqueoacústica Maya. La necesidad del estudio sistemático de efectos acústicos en sitios arqueológicos.” Estudios Cultura Maya no. 32 (2009): 411, accessed February 27 2016, doi:
  4. Canto Sáenz, Rodolfo, “From Henequén to Maquiladoras,” in Yucatan Economy and Industry 1984–2001 (Toluca: Instituto Nacional de Administración Pública, 2002), 51.
  5. Martin Durrani, “The Political Vision Interview: Enrique Cabrero Mendoza,” in the Special Report Mexico: Physics for culture and development, Physics World, (2015):16.
  6. José Manuel Sánchez Ron, Elogio del mestizaje: Historia, lenguaje y ciencia (Madrid: Real Academia Española, 2003), 22.
  7. Esther Acevedo and Rosa Casanova, “Entrevista con Erick Meyenberg: Estudio del artista, 27 de julio 2010,” in Revolucion(es), ed. Esther Acevedo and Rosa Casanova (Mexico D.F.: Instituto Nacional de Bellas Artes y Literatura, 2010), 101–107.
  8. John Dos Passos, “Detroit: City of Leisure,” The New Republic, July 27, 1932.
  9. The official website is
  10. Francesca Berardi, “It’s Like a Caterpillar Becoming a Butterfly: An Inspiring Lunch With the Urbanist Dan Pitera,” in Detour in Detroit, ed. Francesca Berardi (Milano: Humboldt Books, 2015), 3–11.
  11. Melanie Smith, “Fordlandia,” Editorial RM (2014), 15.
  12. John Dos Passos, The Big Money (New York: First Mariner Books, 2000), 15.
  13. Fredrik Winslow Taylor, The Principles of Scientific Management (New York, London: Harper & Brothers, 1911).
  14. Ray Brassiere, Alien Theory: The Decline of Materialism in the Name of Matter (Coventry: University of Warwick, 2001).
  15. Bruno Latour, “Why has Critique Run Out of Steam?: From Matters of Fact to Matters of Concern,” Critical Inquiry, vol. 30, no. 2 (2004): 25–248. Republished in: Harper’s Magazine, (April 2004): 15–20. Republication reprinted in: Bill Brown Things, ed. Bill Brown (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004), 151–174; Bruno Latour, We Have Never Been Modern, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993).


Tania Aedo is a cultural producer with a long trajectory in the development of projects at the intersection of art, science, and technology. Since 2007 she has been the director of Laboratorio Arte Alameda, and she is former director of Centro Multimedia at the National Center for the Arts in Mexico. She studied Visual Arts at the National Visual Art School (UNAM), where she was given the Award for Artistic Creation; and Artistic Education at Escuela Superior de Artes de Yucatán (ESAY). She attended the Museum Management Program organized by Instituto de Liderazgo en Museos (ILM) and the Getty Leadership Institute, and has been honored with grants like the Media Arts Fellowship from the foundations of Rockefeller, Ford, and MacArthur. She has taken part in the Creative Residencies Program at the Banff Center for the Arts funded by the Fondo Nacional para la Cultura y las Artes (FONCA), and has received additional support from several programs by the same institution. She has been involved as author and/or editor in the publication of books such as Techkné 1.0 and Interdiscipline School and Art (CONACULTA, Mexico), ARTECHMEDIA (Madrid, España), Estado de situación (Buenos Aires, Argentina), Five Variations of Phonic Circumstances and a Pause (CONACULTA, Mexico), SEFT 1 Sonda de exploración ferroviaria tripulada (Mexico, Tierra Adentro). She has also developed curatorial projects such as Surrounded, at the School of Media and Design at the Nanyang Technological University in Singapore.