Thursday, April 30, 2009

HEAVEN KNOWS...




















Last week, around this time of the day, Mexico City was a complete different place than what it loks like today.

While some of us were still hungover from the mighty party Eugenio Lopez offered at his art warehouse otherwise known as La Coleccion Jumex, others were regretting they didn't go to the party.

It's a well known fact, getting to La Coleccion Jumex is never been an easy task, not only because of its unfriendly location, but because of their tight and estrict guest list. A lot of people hesitated driving all the way to Ecatepec only to be sent back home for not having an invite or not being on the list. I encouraged them all to try and go and I even provided them with individual and different excuses in case a security guard asks for their invite. I myself did not have an invite, but instead I got a very personal and private tour of the new additions to the collection guided by Eugenio himself who introduced me to his family and friends as someone who has done 'Circo, Maroma y Teatro'. Too true.

Eugenio explained us how he came up with the idea of making the biggest contemporary art collection on LATAM when he went to the Saatchy warehouse in London. He also mentioned he loves people to come to his space, which knowing Eugenio, you can assume he won't mind the place being packed with interesting fun loving people, which is why I kept insisting and was inviting everyone arund me.

Then he showed us a magnificent installation surrounded by the work of Dan Graham and his stills from a sunset, or was it dusk? Very impressive. But even more so were the dimensions of this party... and to witness the amount of people who filled the dancefloor or simply gatthered around the bar wearing incredibly fantastic outfits all dancing to a bootleg version of omd's electricity. That night all these creatures drove all the way to the party after Femaco, the art fair, had closed its doors at 10 pm: ignoring distance, potential traffic and state of mind. Think hundreds of cars leaving from Centro Banamex on a caravan, taking over roads and avenues, crossing a few hills, passing huge billboards, feeling confused for one second, and eventually stopping at Jumex parking lot. Now think backwards, returning home, but after drinking and dancing all night the trip becomes less pictoresque.

And a similar spirit continue through the week. Art was being served anyway you like it.
Everything was hugs and kisses before fever and paranoia took over, now we are secluded at home living from our memories, eating caviar from a can, drinking the last drops of mezcal.