The Webbed Arts Multiverse of Chicago
ECCLESIASTÉS 1:2 : Carlos Salazar-Lermont exhibition, curated by Wil Ruggiero, July 2020. Photo by Astro Escudero. Courtesy of Chuquimarca.
John H. Guevara is an independent curator. The creative force behind Chuquimarca, an art library, Guevara’s work shines a light on Chicago artists. Intervenxions recently interviewed Guevara to learn more about his practice and inspiration.
What are some salient currents you are witnessing in contemporary art today?
Headshot of John H. Guevara. Courtesy of Chuquimarca.
Specifically in Chicago, Latine and LatAm artists are talking about a lot of things, so it would be hard to pin down one current. This city is pretty big and there is always a wide spectrum of conversations happening at any given time.
Notably, sound practices are getting more intricate thanks to artist Josh Rios. In his practice, Rios works with sonic space to talk about the formation of criminality and dispositions. He organizes an award-winning reading group on sound theories every year and puts together performances highlighting sound artists. Sal Moreno is another artist using sound but through configured motion capture objects, which I think is pretty cool. Fiber and weaving studies have been a thing for a hot minute now too and those conversations aren’t wavering at all. Some artists to note are José Santiago Pérez, who creates weaved plastic containers to talk about petroleum’s origin, and then Melissa Leandro, who creates meticulous floral scenes through a hybrid digital-jacquard process. For ceramics, there's a lot of character-building happening like in the works of Sydnie Jimenez and Haylie Jimenez. More abstract forms in sculptures would be like the little patitas of Sofia Fernández Díaz.
On the lens-based front, emerging artists like Sophie Lopez and Maximiliano Cervantes are thinking speculative and materially. They created a Latine image-making collective with other artists called El Otro Lado. Diana Solís anchors portraiture in the city. Solís is Chicago’s Latine art world darling who has been taking photos of Chicago’s Latine queer community since the ‘70s.
For performance art, there’s Carlos Salazar-Lermont, who is basically the walking embodiment of Venezuelan performance art history and then there's newer artists like Ále “Celeste” Campos who is thinking critically about drag space and aesthetics. Public-participation performances like that of Natalia Villanueva Linares are present in the city, too. The disciplinary DJ practices of Roland Santana and Ariella Granados are also true vibes to note. Actually, a lot of artists and art workers in Chicago have DJ practices, maybe that's the real current.
I can go on but Chicago Latine/LatAm artists are true dolls. For context, Chicago can be hard for no reason sometimes due to deep-seated, institutional, economical, and political powers. It is a very neoliberal city where public memory is constantly being erased. (Chicago is the birthplace of neoliberal policy after all; search up The Chicago Boys.) But anyway, the Chicago Latine/LatAm artists know their worth and are very secure in their gestures. They undertake Chicago’s brutalist nature and feed their gifts and guts with Chicago’s grey grids.
Empowered Support, A Conversation with Benedicta Badia moderated by John H. Guevara at Tala gallery. Part of programming for Blinked Twice: Vani Aguilar exhibition, October 2024. Courtesy of Tala.
Does the work ever feel isolating, or do you feel like you are a part of an artistic community? If so, how would you describe that community?
As of late, it has not felt isolating. The multiverse of Chicago is pretty visibly webbed, and I respect the work that is paralleling me. I am thinking specifically about the work Chuquimarca is involved in around art research, art books, and art writings.
Off the bat, I think of Francine Almeda from Tala who created a library room in its gallery to be a third space for rest and a meeting point for vibes. Last year, Tala invited me to permanently house Chuqui’s art books in that room and many conversations have come out of it. There is also the online art publication Sixty Inches From Center, in which we collaborated on the Muña Art Writing Residency. I specifically work more with Christina Nafziger, Luz Magdaleno-Flores, and River Ian Kerstetter. Tempestt Hazel, a founder of Sixty, laid down a lot of groundwork for a sphere of writers and archivists in the city.
Touching on archives, there is this Latinx video art and archive series called Sin Cinta Previa by Jose Luis Benavides. It programs video screenings of video art and documentaries of/by Latine artists. For the art book fix—we got Inga! Inga is a book store founded by Malia Haines-Stewart, Jacob Lindgren, and Alan Medina. It stocks up on awe-mazing independent publications about art, architecture, film, criticism, and more. I have to close my eyes every time I go there or else I’ll spend all my money. This list can get longer but I am going to stop here with Jupiter Magazine, an art writing journal by Camille Bacon and Daria Harper. I'm such a fan of their planet!
With all of this activity, it feels like a foundry. We are all working with hot and heavy material in our respective side of the city. In architecture terms, I think it’s called sistering.
Chuquimarca’s art books at Tala gallery, May 2024. Photo by Steven Piper. Courtesy of Tala.
As an independent laborer, how do you establish and maintain links of solidarity with other arts workers in the field? In terms of labor, what do you think are some of the most pressing concerns we are facing today?
I try my best to remember people’s proposals to the world. I want to be a better ally to the circles that touch me and I feel like I can do that by remembering, not only people’s projects but my own faculties. Of course capitalism and the attention economy is public enemy No. 1 in all of this but personally, it’s my dissociation patterns that take me out of my body and make me forget that I even worked on certain projects. I tend to forget that I reincarnated into a fleshy creature called human with human feelings amongst other human beings with shared human conditions. I want to remember kindness more than anything.
How do the arts intersect with other areas in your city? How do you like to work with artists, institutions, and the public?
Under Chuquimarca, I make a conscious effort to put artists in front of people who do not work in the art industry. For example, I programmed two artists' talks at Uber’s Chicago headquarters last year with Flor Flores and Cathy Hsiao. Taking the time to introduce artists to nonart-world people is important for the development of art appreciation and cultural conversations in the city. A new Latina-owned art consulting firm Elle Art Consulting by Michelle Ruiz is positioning itself similarly in this matter. It wants to further foster relationships between Latine professionals and artists. I am excited to see that initiative flourish.
On the civic side, a slice of Chicago’s art industry is supported by DCASE, the city’s department of cultural affairs. Though bureaucratic for obvious reasons, they do have occasional notable projects. For example, in 2023 DCASE commissioned 20+ artists to make permanent installations at O’hare airport. It included Latine artists like Yvette Mayorga and Edra Soto. This initiative was curated by Ionit Behar, curator at the Depaul Art Museum (DPAM). To note, Behar also stewards the Latinx Initiative at DPAM.
On working with institutions, Behar actually invited me to program a talk for the exhibition Art for the Future: Artists Call and Central American Solidarities at DPAM. We brought in Central American project spaces to speak on their respective art-making conditions. We had Honduras-based LL Proyectos by Karon Sabrina Corrales Quiñonez and Leonardo González, and also Casa Ma by Gala Berger—it was cute! I usually try to bring in other people into the fold when I get invited by institutions to program things, if it makes sense of course.
Furthermore, I give more importance to the relationship I have with the actual person that I am working with from any given institution rather than the institutional body itself. I value people not their employer. For example, if Behar decides to leave DPAM, I would follow and cheer on Behar on to their next adventure regardless of the institutional name behind them because it was Behar who was supportive of my projects and I am fan of their work.
Josué Esaú, Takalik (Daykeeper), 2022 for Ceyó exhibition at Chicago Artists Coalition, January 2023. Photo by Eugene Tang. Courtesy of Chuquimarca.
Installation view of Under The Same Road by Frank Vega at MdW Fair, September 2022. Photo by Eugene Tang. Courtesy of Chuquimarca.
Luis Rodríguez Rosario, Línea divisoria de varios momentos, 2022 for Ceyó exhibition at Chicago Artists Coalition, January 2023. Photo by Eugene Tang. Courtesy of Chuquimarca.
Muña Art Writing Residency 2025 cohort field trip to ebere agwuncha solo-show exhibition at Chicago Artists Coalition, August 2024. Courtesy of Chuquimarca.
What kind of artwork inspires you lately?
I am inspired by work that makes me want to write. I read somewhere that quality art deserves quality writing—it demands it.
To encompass my current fonds, I would make an exhibition called Llaga. It would speak on dark implastic materials, tectonic gaseous aches, and inter-corporal cosmological screams. It will include artists like Alberto Ortega Trejo, Nancy Valladares, Agustine Zegers, Harold Mendez, Ruben Ulises Rodriguez Montoya, Ronny Quevedo, Berenice Olmedo and anyone who is talking through and with the dark. I just love the etymology of Llaga. It branches off to plaga and llanto. It can also mean wound.
Figuratively, I love John Rivas and Pachi Muruchu and of course Vani Aguilar, who I worked with on a solo exhibition last year—true chroniclers of our Latine times. Established artists like Hock E Aye Vi Edgar Heap of Birds, Paul Pfeiffer, and Álvaro Barrios are always on the inspiration board. We also need more scholarships for Emilio Cruz and Camilo Egas.
What does representation mean to you? Do you feel represented in the work that you do and where it is circulated?
At this moment, I am not quite sure what representation means to me because I’ve come to realize that I'm very, very rare and beyond extremely unique. I love that about me. I am one of one and not one project can capture my orbit’s complexity.
But representation somehow touches on validation. And if the question is asking if I feel validated in the work I do, I can say yes, I do feel validated. Accepting validation and appreciation is a practice. Even though I am clumsy in the spotlight sometimes, every time I get any attention on my project or myself I’m actively choosing to receive that attention as affirmations. From DMs saying “This is amazing!” to invitations like this article, it's up to me and my body to accept these out reaches as alignments to my spirit’s journey. Of course, giving appreciation brings it full circle and needs to be exercised on my part, in which I am always trying to be better at. I just wish everyone can feel like their hot shit naturally, the way I do that for me is by taking full control of my value system and what I choose to confirm me. It really is just a reframe of how one chooses to accept love and affirmations.
How often are your curatorial decisions influenced by organizational or financial pressure?
Quite often, but I wouldn’t consider them dire, constraining pressures more like prompts or parameters. The majority of my curatorial projects were either in response to an invited prompt or working with given parameters of a curatorial program. There are only one or two exhibitions that I really showed my full curatorial voice and conceptual interests on. I wonder if anyone has noticed.
On the money side, grants have a way to dictate a project’s language sometimes and that was one of the reasons I avoided applying to grants. More so because I didn’t have language for the things I was doing. To this day, explaining Chuquimarca’s program is a word salad. However, it is a good writing exercise to reframe a project with someone else's language. Just look out for the cliches and empty words.
What does the future look like to you?
I want to say that the future will be a reformed warrior princess—stoic, cotizado. If we’ve been tending to our demons, the coming work will be endearing with great great accuracy.