What does it mean to have a company in this era? Is that even possible for independent artists?
LOAIZAcorpóreo is the brand that I have put forward since 2018. It serves as the name for my “company” whenever grant, festival or other application forms require it. It’s fake—in a sense…
I don’t care much for the idea of a company as an artist, I think it’s a somewhat impossible, romanticized and obsolete perspective on dance collectives in the present era. What I care for is friendships and strong, diverse, fun groups that come together for specific projects.
If you want, you can name my company LOAIZAcorpóreo, but… really, it’s just me: Victor, and great, talented friends—smashing art and body, making stuff, awesome stuff.
What does it mean to have a company in this era? Is that even possible for independent artists?
LOAIZAcorpóreo is the brand that I have put forward since 2018. It serves as the name for my “company” whenever grant, festival or other application forms require it. It’s fake—in a sense…
I don’t care much for the idea of a company as an artist, I think it’s a somewhat impossible, romanticized and obsolete perspective on dance collectives in the present era. What I care for is friendships and strong, diverse, fun groups that come together for specific projects.
If you want, you can name my company LOAIZAcorpóreo, but… really, it’s just me: Victor, and great, talented friends—smashing art and body, making stuff, awesome stuff.
"What will remain" explores the realms of the nostalgic and the queer. It questions the real, everyday possibilities of living out that fiction, of being intimate with someone in an open space, in broad daylight, without fear of repercussions. Generally, outside of assimilation, the queer claim to public spaces happens under the cover of darkness. A tender, soaked, and daytime cruising is almost fantastical, and in this fictionalization, it taints the entire space where it occurs.
The nostalgia at play in "what will remain" doesn't necessarily appeal to narrative or personal history; rather, it yearns for a restricted possibility, a different spatiality, a less threatened dwelling. It is, in some ways, nostalgia for space, for sunlight, for fresh air.
- Jarrito de Tlaquepaque. (2022, November 10). Reclamar el espacio (sobre "reconstruir el sonido de una caída" y "what will remain once we have drunk all the water"). In FANZINE de crítica coreográfica. XXV International Dance Festival of Jalisco 2022.
Showings
(2021) Cineteca Nacional (2021) Somos Voces Queer Library, Mexico City( 2021) Festival Mix 2021 - Cine & Diversidad Sexual (2021) XXV International Dance Festival of Jalisco 2022.
Statement
- To reclaim spaces in favor of affectionate freedom. - To live memory in the present and to practice "dreaming". - To encounter, to embrace, to explore, to bid farewell.