How do ritual and dreaming operate as epistemic practices within your work?
-Our work is grounded in activating the imaginaries of the Ecuadorian Amazonian nationalities, primarily Sapara and Kichwa, of which members of our collective are part. Dreaming is not a metaphor but a method: it is a device of knowledge and a form of political and spiritual orientation.
In our narratives, the human and the nonhuman coexist as equivalent presences - as agencies that think and act. Living alongside the forest, the community, and a territory violated by extractive activities and everyday aggressions shapes our visual and sonic language.
We seek to rethink colonialism not in order to repeat it, but to tension and overflow it - narrating from our own perspectives. We use Western instruments such as cameras, yet we displace them from their original function and reappropriate them, making them our own as tools of resistance. We replace hierarchical forms with modes of creation consistent with Indigenous organization, where decision-making is collective and grounded in respect for the territory.
What does it mean to work with living archives in opposition to institutionalized forms of memory?
-Our grandmothers and grandfathers embody an archive that breathes. The knowledge transmitted by their ancestors is not a dead document but a living practice, transformed through each experience.
Working with living archives means recovering what was taken by the West and reactivating those images to grant them new meanings - rewriting history from our own perspective. We do not seek to romanticize or objectify cultures, but to affirm the bonds that sustain us, because everything has life and everything is interconnected.
The archive lives in oral transmission, in ceramics, in songs, in language, and in the territory itself.
How does language function beyond representation within your artistic processes?
-The language we propose destabilizes Western structures of reading. It does not merely represent; it produces experience and positioning. It is a sensitive form of knowledge that shares ways of life without fully translating them.
Some knowledge is not exposed, because care is also a form of resistance. We invite rebellion, discomfort, and reflection as critical gestures. Our works stand in defense of life, of the body, of freedom of expression, and of the territory.
What frictions emerge when community knowledge enters the global art context?
-For years, others spoke for us and interpreted our practices through Western frameworks. Yet art and its interpretation are situated.
What has been named “art” from the outside does not always align with our understanding, because for us it implies a different relationship to life. We are often positioned within folklore, our work romanticized, or we are placed in the position of the Other.
For us, it is important to deactivate that distance and occupy the same level of appreciation - not as a quota of diversity, but as a production of knowledge with equal symbolic value.
How do you understand the ethical position of the viewer within your work?
-The viewer does not occupy a passive place; they are called into relation. The work is a space of encounter where looking implies responsibility. It is not only about observing an image or a body, but about listening to a living territory, a river that walks, a memory that persists.
The one who looks decides whether to remain distant or to allow the experience to transform them. It is one culture crossing into another - or into itself. The ethics of the viewer are activated when they recognize that they too are part of the fabric that sustains or threatens life.
How do members of the group relate to their territorial origins and nationality as part of their identities?
-Territory is identity. Not all of us come from Indigenous peoples, but we all work in close relationship with the Amazon rainforest and share a history of anti-extractivist activism. The struggle in the territories of Amazonian peoples is a daily struggle.
Within the territory lives our living memory - our stories and our languages. Not only the spoken language, but the one we trace in our projects, the one we constantly weave. We learned to listen and to see through dreams; that sensitivity guides our practice.
Our way of life revolves around a union with the forest: we are part of the forest, and the forest is part of us.
How are care and responsibility articulated in a matriarchal way within your practices?
-In our culture there was no rigid division between matriarchy and patriarchy, but rather a system in which men and women shared social, spiritual, and political roles horizontally. With the intervention of religion and the State, those forms were displaced. Recovering that memory means reinstating care as an organizing axis. Responsibility is collective: we listen, deliberate, and reflect together on how to act and how to build, maintaining energy in balance so as not to affect creation.
Those with deeper spiritual formation accompany the process through the use of medicinal plants and counsel. Care is fundamental to our artistic practice.
How do you mobilize indeterminacy as a methodological position rather than an aesthetic gesture?
-I approach indeterminacy as a methodological condition rather than an aesthetic effect by designing processes that resist closure. Instead of illustrating uncertainty, I construct situations in which knowledge remains provisional-where materials, data, and contexts exceed the frameworks meant to contain them. Indeterminacy operates as a structural principle within the work, allowing it to question how realities are produced, stabilized, and naturalized.
How do scientific and ancestral epistemologies intersect in your work without being hierarchized?
-In my practice, different knowledge systems operate as parallel modes of inquiry rather than as competing authorities. I resist framing one as empirical truth and the other as symbolic narrative. Instead, I approach both as technologies for perceiving and engaging with the world. Their encounter does not aim at synthesis but at resonance-revealing knowledge as situated, relational, and contingent. What emerges is not hierarchy, but a shifting field in which multiple ways of knowing remain distinct while existing in dialogue.
What critical work does the concept of the “Anti-world” perform today?
-The “Anti-world” performs a critical function by exposing the limits of the hegemonic world—the normative structures that determine what is considered real, possible, or imaginable. It challenges the assumption that reality must be organized through a single, coherent framework and reveals the exclusions embedded within dominant systems. Rather than simple opposition, the Anti-world proposes the coexistence of multiple worlds within the same planetary condition, expanding the field of what can be sensed, thought, and inhabited.
How do emerging technologies participate in your understanding of relational ontologies?
-Emerging technologies function as instruments for expanding relational ontologies. They make perceptible the entanglements between the terrestrial, the technological, and the cosmic, revealing systems that exceed the human scale. Rather than positioning technology as external to nature, I approach it as another layer within a continuum of relations-an active participant in the ongoing reconfiguration of what we understand as being and world.
What perceptual or cognitive shifts do you seek to activate through this project?
-I seek to activate perceptual and cognitive shifts that unsettle the assumption of a single, stable reality. Rather than offering alternative images of the world, the work destabilizes the frameworks through which reality is organized and perceived. It suggests that what we call “the real” is constructed through interacting scientific, technological, cultural, and cosmological systems. By engaging indeterminacy and relationality, the project cultivates a planetary imagination-an awareness that multiple ontologies coexist simultaneously, often beyond immediate perception.
How did the encounter with TAWNA destabilize or expand your own practice?
-The encounter with TAWNA expanded my practice by introducing a radically embodied and communal epistemology into dialogue with my conceptual frameworks. While my work often engages science and speculative systems, TAWNA foregrounds relational knowledge grounded in territory, ritual, sexuality, and dreaming as living technologies. Their approach challenged my tendency toward abstraction by insisting on lived, situated experience. Rather than merging our practices, the collaboration created a productive tension-an open field where distinct ontological positions coexist without synthesis, expanding my understanding of collaboration beyond formal exchange.
How do you define coexistence as an artistic and ethical condition?
-I understand coexistence as both an artistic strategy and an ethical condition. Artistically, it means constructing spaces where different systems of thought-scientific, ancestral, technological-can remain distinct yet in relation. Ethically, it implies resisting the impulse to absorb or translate difference into a single dominant framework. Coexistence is not harmony; it is the sustained negotiation of plurality. It requires acknowledging that the world is composed of overlapping realities that cannot be reduced to one narrative. In this sense, coexistence becomes a commitment to planetary multiplicity-holding space for irreducible difference while recognizing our shared entanglement.