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Between 1472 and 1572, the conquests of Peru were many: by the Inca, who in the 15th century spread from their southern Andean heartland in Cusco to build an empire that stretched from what is now southern Colombia to northern Chile and Argentina; by the Spanish conquistadors under the leadership of Francisco Pizarro and Diego de Almagro, who reached down from Panama in search of the rumored wealth of the kingdom of “Birú” and fatefully encountered the aspirant Inca emperor Atahualpa at Cajamarca in November of 1532; by the Spanish crown, which intervened after the revolt of Atahualpa’s brother Manco Inca in 1536 and the rebellion of the conquistadors in the 1540s; and by the Inca’s former subjects, the Spaniards’ Indian allies, and their mestizo sons, who ended independent Inca resistance by helping to capture Atahualpa’s nephew in the Vilcabamba valley in 1572. This essay sketches the century-long arc of those many conquests, which together yielded a historical entity not quite like any other in the early modern world, let alone Americas: a composite Spanish-Indian kingdom whose incredible wealth lay not just in the gold and silver that its mines and burials produced but in the network of subjects and laborers that drew both the Inca and their Habsburg successors on to further conquests than was wise.
William G. Acree Jr.
Theater in Argentina and Uruguay, which together compose the Plata river region of Latin America, has been a predominant form of entertainment since the 19th century. Theaters abound in Montevideo, while its sister city. Buenos Aires, has its own Broadway in the famed Corrientes Street. In the age of digital culture, the theater remains a mainstay of cultural life for Argentines and Uruguayans. The success of theater and the making of a theatergoing public in the region have their roots first in the variety of entertainment offered by hemispheric travelers to the region from the 1820s through the 1880s and then, most significantly, in shows put on by itinerant circus troupes in the countryside that only later filled urban theaters. From the mid-1880s through 1900 these circus troupes performed plays known as dramas criollos that dealt with rural traditions and explored issues of migration, social stratification, and tensions of economic modernization. These Creole dramas, like the narrative and poetic tales of gaucho heroes that informed them, became wildly successful, attracting spectators in the countryside and city alike, in venues ranging from makeshift tents to the most opulent theaters. They also became the namesake of the circo criollo, which referred as much to types of performers staging the tales as to the circus event where people flocked to see the new main attraction—the dramas. In effect, the Creole drama phenomenon expanded the presence of popular entertainment across the region and consolidated a theatergoing public. It also gave way to a new strand of modern popular culture in which storylines and characters reappeared in other media, and the impact of the Creole drama experience long outlived the spectacle itself.
Cuauhtémoc Cárdenas never achieved his goal of becoming the first son of a Mexican president to win the presidency. But he contributed significantly to bringing about the transition from a presidency owned by the PRI for more than seventy years to a more transparent and fair system of elections. Had it not been for his independent presidential campaign in 1988, which helped inspire reforms of the electoral system that improved competitive conditions for later candidates, democratic transition would at the very least have been delayed. Without his leadership in founding the Partido de la Revolución Democrática (PRD), Mexico would have lacked a strong Left challenge in the years of greatest economic and political reform, undermining the leverage of reformers and changing the tone and direction of efforts to attract voters. Cárdenas was, in a real sense, one of the midwives of Mexico’s democratic transition.
Anita Casavantes Bradford and Raúl Fernandez
The years between 1989 and 2005 were a period of exceptional musical productivity and creativity, a “second golden age” of Cuban popular music—the first golden age referring to the 1950s explosion of the mambo and the cha-cha-chá. During this more recent golden age multiple and diverse forms of musical expression gained traction, and island artists enjoyed a dramatic increase in international visibility. The exciting new sounds of timba and Latin jazz, the Buena Vista Social Club–styled reinvention of the son cubano, and the reemergence of música guajira during the 1990s all reflected the dynamic tensions between tradition and innovation, the local and global, and between an imaginary “authentic” and the much denigrated “commercial” that have long animated the island’s extraordinary musical culture. Despite the seeming newness and singularity of much of the music produced during this period, this second golden age was in fact characterized as much by cross-genre collaboration and continuities with earlier trends in Cuban music and musical culture as by the impact on musical production of unprecedented circumstances of economic deprivation of those years known as the Special Period. A closer look at this second golden age of popular music reveals a cosmopolitan Cuban musical landscape in which styles from different periods coexisted with ease and remained relevant, both as distinct sounds and in dialogue with one another, bringing together a dynamic community of musicians of all levels and styles, old and young, on and off the island. Dynamically poised between the forces of tradition and innovation, and beloved by both local and global audiences, the artists who rose to prominence or were rediscovered during these years each spoke, in their own unique ways, to the innovation, the cross genre collaborations, and above all to the profound historical continuities that have long animated the island’s extraordinary musical culture.
The cultural policies of the left-wing government of Hugo Chávez in Venezuela in the new millennium saw a shift back to funding and patronage of the arts after years of defunding and commodification of cultural production. However, despite leading to a renaissance of cultural activity, Chavista cultural policy also retained a modernist rationality that treated cultural production as objects to be classified and quantified. Official cultural policy in Venezuela has historically developed alongside popular-cultural formations that draw on alternative conceptions of culture that stem from everyday life. The official and the everyday have developed in tandem and, sometimes, at cross-purposes. Many scholars look to policies and states as the producers of change, but it is at the level of the everyday that we can see the emerging possibilities that define cultural movements in search of social change.
Mexican national culture in the period from 1946 to 1982 can be understood by recognizing three overlapping transformations. The first was the consolidation of various national archetypes rooted in Mexican revolutionary and prerevolutionary mythologies of national identity and that were disseminated via state-sponsored cultural institutions as well as through global marketing campaigns related primarily to bolstering tourism. A second was the commodification of national popular culture through local cultural industries, namely radio, cinema, the recording industry, and television, and the competitive engagement of these industries with external cultural flows deriving, primarily though not exclusively, from the United States. The third was the invention of new forms of urban response to inflation and the cascading crises of political legitimacy that characterized the decade leading up to economic collapse in 1982. Across the body politic, one discerns a resilience of shared points of cultural reference—sonic, visual, culinary, and otherwise—derived, often in great measure, from governmental policies and discourse. At the same time, and increasingly over the course of this historical period, one finds movements characterized by an irreverent reappropriation of many of those same reference points, carried out by a diverse range of social actors in pursuit of individual and collective strategies of resistance to both state and patriarchal forms of authority. By the early 1980s Mexican national culture had become a rich and playful bricolage made up of iconic markers over which the state experienced a diminishing, though not yet exhausted, capacity to define.
Roderic Ai Camp
Mexico’s democratic transition provides a revealing case study of a semi-authoritarian political model evolving incrementally into an electoral democracy over two decades. One of the special features of that transition was its slow progress compared to its peers in Latin America, especially given its proximity to the United States, the most influential democracy in the last half of the 20th century. The first attempt to introduce fair, competitive elections occurred under the leadership of Miguel de la Madrid in 1983, but he reversed direction when he was opposed by leading politicians from his own party. His successor, Carlos Salinas (1988–1994), chose to pursue economic liberalization, opening up Mexico to greater competition globally, and negotiating an agreement with Canada and the United States (North American Free Trade Agreement, or NAFTA), while maintaining an authoritarian presidency. During this era, proactive actors that fomented significant political change came from numerous sources. The following were particularly noteworthy in explaining Mexico’s shift to a democratic model: dissident elites who pushed for democracy inside the dominant Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI); dissident elites who left PRI to form the most successful opposition parties in the 20th century, including the founding of the Party of the Democratic Revolution (PRD) in 1989; social and civic movements originating from government incompetence in addressing the results of the 1985 earthquake in Mexico City, the widespread fraud during the 1988 presidential election, and the Zapatista Army of National Liberation uprising in 1994; the altered composition of political leadership from the establishment and the opposition characterized by stronger backgrounds in local, elective offices, party leadership, and nonpolitical careers; new electoral laws reinforcing independent decision-making regarding electoral practices and outcomes in the 1990s; and the introduction of new political actors supportive of democratic change, such as the Catholic Church.
Barbara E. Mundy and Dana Leibsohn
This is an advance summary of a forthcoming article in the Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Latin American History. Please check back later for the full article.
Since the turn of the twenty-first century, a number of online projects have come into being that focus on the art and architecture of Latin America. These projects are all hybrids, growing out of the fertile ground between computational capacities—particularly image databases or similar aggregations—and scholarly capacities, in the form of imaginative new research. The field of visual culture of Spanish America, arguably the least familiar of the periods of Latin American art history, has given rise to projects that highlight the potentials and complexities of such digital research: Vistas, Visual Culture in Spanish America, 1520–1820, Mesolore, Digital Mesoamerica, and a range of cartographic sites, including the one centered on Lienzo de Quauhquechollan.
Online research in colonial visual culture has opened new possibilities for teaching and research, shifting what it means to produce histories of visual culture. “Greater access” has become a well-recognized feature of online projects directed by scholars, but accessibility is not an end unto itself, and producing and presenting new research online has given rise to a set of practices with larger implications for the trajectory of future scholarship. What kinds of intellectual questions have successful projects posed, what kinds of issues does this work bring to the foreground, and what are some of the limitations of this kind of work? What are the challenges of writing and designing effective online projects, as well as their requirements to be curated over time?
María C. Gaztambide
Documents of 20th-century Latin American and Latino Art: A Digital Archive and Publications Project is a multiyear initiative at the International Center for the Arts of the Americas (ICAA) of the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston that seeks to consolidate Latin American and Latino art as a field of study and to place it on equal footing with other established aesthetic traditions. It encompasses the recovery, translation into English, and publication of primary texts by Latin American and Latino artists, critics, and curators who have played a fundamental role in the development of modern and contemporary art in countries or communities throughout the Americas. The ICAA makes these essential bibliographic materials available free of charge through a digital archive and a series of fully annotated book anthologies published in English. It is facilitating new historical scholarship on 20th-century Latin American and Latino art through a framework of thirteen open-ended editorial categories that center on thematic rather than more traditional chronological guidelines. This approach broadens the discourse on the modern and contemporary art produced along this cultural axis. A discussion and contextualization of a selection of recovered documents that relate to the editorial category of “Resisting Categories: Latin American and/or Latino?” supports this central argument. These and other little-known or previously inaccessible primary source and critical materials will ultimately encourage interdisciplinary and transnational (re)readings of how aesthetics, social issues, and artistic tendencies have been contested and developed in the region.
This is an advance summary of a forthcoming article in the Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Latin American History. Please check back later for the full article.
The burgeoning digital technologies of the early twenty-first century are rapidly changing and engrossing millions of people across the globe. YouTube and Facebook are but two examples of social network sites (SNSs) whose social implications are so vast they deserve concerted research. The artifacts, the media, and their implications call for study within specific social and cultural contexts, for their uses and appropriations vary considerably and can suggest different meanings.
Ethnographic research, begun in 2008, follows people connected to electronic music (e-music) in the largest urban centers of Brazil, namely São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. This study traces the migration of this social group from Orkut (which was at that time the most popular SNS in Brazil, by far) to Facebook, which continues to increase in popularity.
The complex topic of learning how people use social media to build their identities is especially interesting. The utilization of terms such as “identity performance,” “self-presentation,” or “self-representation” may denote radically different approaches to the “phenomenon.” Moreover, a methodological concern arises: It is important to gather data concerning people’s use of Facebook, and this should be done online. Nevertheless, it is also relevant to carry out direct interviews to better understand the dynamics of individuals’ self-performance. This fuels debates about the appropriate “adaptation” of ethnographic methods and techniques to virtual environments.
This ethnographic research evaluates concepts such as “virtual ethnography” and “netnography” that have been used to differentiate off-line and online research methods. This line of research argues that although there are specific characteristics of the computer-mediated communication regarding interaction and particular languages for research “in” and “outside” the Internet, such communication takes place in environments that should no longer be treated as “non-places,” or in terms of “real” versus “virtual” as some approaches suggest; rather these spaces should be viewed as a continuum.
In 2012, in-depth, face-to-face interviews were conducted with five social actors from the e-music scenes mentioned above. The questions were informed by review of both the literature on identity construction in SNSs and that on ethnographic methods applied in digital contexts. The interviews were combined with a close observation of the Facebook profiles of these same people.
The study found that the processes of self-presentation of these social actors on Facebook are linked to the daily performance of certain aspects of their identities—mostly related to music as a way of self-expression—for specific “imagined audiences.” The interviewees carefully manage the impressions they want to create for their connections, trying to maintain or break a supposed “expressive coherence” of their online and off-line selves, hence restoring regimes of visibility and identity construction in contemporary times.