[MUSIC PLAYING] 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. [MUSIC PLAYING]
