| Pedestrian Space | Program | Participants | Abstracts |
Fred Sandback at Boston University
Visit the digital Fred Sandback Archive for examples of Sandback’s work.
Photographs from Zamora: Laura Roush
On the insomnia in Zamora: what we don’t speak of, but the night lets us show.
loading slideshow...
On the insomnia in Zamora: What no one speaks of, but the night lets us show. | Del insomnio Zamorano. Lo que no se platica, pero que la noche permite mostrar.
Back entrance to a family home, Zamora, Michoacán. Mural by local artist Marcos Quintana, 2019 Zaguán en la colonia Jardines de Catedral, Zamora, Michoacán. Mural por Marcos Quintana, artista local, 2019.
Multifamily Day of the Dead altar, Arboledas neighborhood, Zamora, 2021 | Un altar multifamiliar a los muertos, Arboledas, Zamora, Michoacán, 2021.
This altar, on a pedestrian-only street, is unusual in that it brings together the offerings of several families. It was organized by a schoolteacher who lives on the same block. In 2021, she noted there were more photos of people killed in violent episodes than of those who died in the pandemic. Este altar ubicado en una zona peatonal junta las ofrendas de toda una calle. Fue organizada por una maestra normalista que comentó que en aquel año, murieron más en episodios con armas que en la misma pandemia.
“When the corner store closes at eleven, I want you back here at home.” | “Cuando se cierra la tienda a las once, te quiero aquí de regreso.”
Girls at the playground, Parish of St. Peter and St. Paul, 10:55 PM. Zamora, January 2020. Niñas jugando, Parroquia de San Pedro y San Pablo, Zamora, 10:55 PM, January 2020.
“No one understands how you feel. But if you self-isolate, you can go crazy.” | “Nadie te lo entiende. Pero si te aislas, puedes volverte loca”
A woman shows images of her two sons, one of whom may be alive, somewhere. She is raising her grandchildren along with her daughters-in-law. “The situation of the women who took on these tasks—because of kidnapping and disappearances, imprisonment or the “going underground” of their companions—is intrinsically different. The terror people lived through required a range of concealments, including the concealment of ones’ own pain. It included getting children to go through their daily routines as if nothing were wrong, to avoid suspicion. The fear and the silence were always present, with a very high emotional cost.” –Elizabeth Jelin, anthropologist, on the Dirty War in Argentina in the 1980s. (Los trabajos de la memoria, 2001) Palabras de esta mujer, que muestra imagen de sus dos hijos, por si uno aún está vivo en alguna parte. “La situación de las mujeres que debieron hacerse cargo de esas tareas debido al secuestro-desaparición, al encarcelamiento o a la clandestinidad de sus compañeros es intrínsecamente dieferente… La situación de terror en que se vivía requería ocultamientos diversos inclusive del dolor personal. Incluía intentar que los hijos siguieran sus actividades cotidianas como si nada hubiera pasado para evitar sospechas. El miedo y el silencio estaban presentes de manera constante, con un costo emocional muy alto.” –Elizabeth Jelin, antropologa, sobre la guerra sucia en Argentina.
Day of the Dead altar, Colonia La Lima, Zamora, October 2020 | Altar de Muertos, Colonia La Lima, Zamora, Michoacán, octubre de 2020
The streets that follow the former course of the River Duero are narrow and curving. This forces car traffic to slow down, which protects altars for the Day of the Dead near the end of October. In Zamora, these were formerly built on sidewalks outside houses so that neighbors could pay their respects to each family’s deceased loved ones. In recent years, say people on this street, violence and lack of respect have caused many families to bring altars indoors, so scenes like this one are becoming rare. Las calles angostas y curvadas del viejo curso del Rio Duero permiten la continuación de la costumbre de los altares callejeros porque los protegen del tráfico. Sin embargo, dicen, por la violencia y faltas de respeto muchos ya prefieren armarlos dentro de las casas y escasean los altares públicamente visibles.
These photos were taken during night walks, between 2020 and 2023, in the city of Zamora, Michoacán. During these years, some organizations named this city the most dangerous city in Mexico (Consejo Ciudadano para la Seguridad Pública y la Justicia Penal, 2022; Observatorio Regional Zamora, A.C., 2022 and 2023). The following are observations on the daily (or nocturnal) life of Zamora during these years, based on the creation of a registry of thousands of images, and on the gradual definition of an investigation about grief based on conversations, with images in hand, with an abundant variety of people awake at night.
As a New Yorker in Michoacán, I was initially upset that many people told me that I should not walk at night. However, over time I made my own reading of the news, no doubt with a bias of my own: I concluded that most of the shootings happened in broad daylight and that the nighttime ones did not happen in the street. As of 2017, I returned to my old hobby of walking, with a camera in hand, a Sony a6000, a tripod and a remote control.
Photographs from Zamora: Sam Rivera
Pedestrian Cinema: Favorite Poem Project
Pedestrian Cinema
A street-level illuminated screen reflects the public back to itself in this public art installation playing a 48-hour repeated silent reel for passersby on Commonwealth Avenue March 26-27, 2026, highlighting the changing conditions of landscape and humanity with the passage of time. Each film portrays a member of the public in the process of contextualizing and finding meaning in art in their environment.
The Favorite Poem Project:
At the Favorite Poem Project, we believe that poetry is a vocal, bodily art with a vigorous presence in the everyday – not just in college classrooms. Founded by U.S. Poet Laureate and former Boston University Professor Robert Pinsky, the FPP seeks to document and celebrate this presence, giving voice to the American audience for poetry through short video documentaries, educational resources, books, events, and more: favoritepoem.org
This illuminated projector will feature ten short videos of regular people sharing and discussing their favorite poems. Pinsky says:
“saying the words of a poem aloud make one feel more able, more capable than in ordinary life. […] It is a form of collaboration, or mutual possession.”
As you walk by, day or night, one of these poems may speak to you, too.
María Clara Cortés at Boston University
Tribute to Fred Sandback – A propos of Pedestrian Space
Intervention made with acrylic yarn | Museo de Arte, Universidad Nacional, Bogotá, 2026.
The Art Museum at Universidad Nacional, located inside the campus in Bogotá, has been closed since May 2022. The roof’s insulating layer was melted by tear gas canisters fired by police on many occasions at protesters, among them students, and pieces of the paint covering the inside are now constantly falling off.
I made this intervention, departing from the concept of Pedestrian Space proposed by Fred Sandback, a space occupied by the walker and by the sculpture when it descends from the podium. My sculptures, Sandback said in 1973, have to do with complex, three-dimensional spatial situations. I regard them as my particular way of complicating and articulating the given situation, the existing space.
The Art Museum at Universidad Nacional is in the middle of political conflict, not only related to the government and the decisions related to public education, but also to the internal tensions of power inside the University; in this sense, with the Tribute to Sandback – A propos of Pedestrian Space, I’m interested in drawing attention to the way the actual state of the space of the Museum is a reflection of economic, ideological and political conditions. If Sandback´s sculptures had lines that defined clearly the shapes he proposed in the space, in this intervention I wrap the space around the columns and cross the central patio, in order to create disorganized figures that superpose and cross; the lines made with acrylic yarn, the same kind the artist used for his pieces, prevent visitors from circulating freely and create violent tensions in the central part of the Museum.
Homenaje a Fred Sandback – A propósito del espacio peatonal
Intervención realizada con lana acrílica | Museo de Arte, Universidad Nacional, Bogotá, 2026.
El Museo de Arte de la Universidad Nacional, situado dentro del campus de Bogotá, está cerrado desde mayo de 2022. La capa aislante del techo se derritió por los botes de gas lacrimógeno lanzados por la policía en numerosas ocasiones contra los manifestantes, entre ellos estudiantes, y ahora trozos de la pintura que recubre el interior se desprenden constantemente
Realicé esta intervención a partir de la idea del Espacio Peatonal propuesto por Fred Sandback, un espacio ocupado por el caminante y por la escultura cuando ésta desciende del podio. Mis esculturas, decía Sandback en 1973, tienen que ver con situaciones espaciales complejas y tridimensionales. Las considero mi forma particular de complicar y articular la situación dada, el espacio existente.
El Museo de Arte de la Universidad Nacional se encuentra en medio de un conflicto político, no solo relacionado con el gobierno y las decisiones que comprometen la educación pública, sino también con las tensiones internas de poder dentro de la Universidad; en este sentido, con el Homenaje a Sandback – A propósito del espacio peatonal, me interesa llamar la atención sobre la forma en que el estado actual del espacio del Museo es un reflejo de las condiciones económicas, ideológicas y políticas. Si las esculturas de Sandback tenían líneas que definían claramente las formas que proponía en el espacio, en esta intervención envuelvo el espacio alrededor de las columnas y cruzo el patio central, con el fin de crear figuras desorganizadas que se superponen y se cruzan; las líneas hechas con hilo acrílico, del mismo tipo que el artista utilizó para sus piezas, impiden que los visitantes circulen libremente y crean tensiones violentas en la parte central del museo.
Pedestrian Cinema
A street-level illuminated screen reflects the public back to itself in this public art installation playing a 48-hour repeated silent reel for passersby on Commonwealth Avenue March 26-27, 2026, highlighting the changing conditions of landscape and humanity with the passage of time. Each film portrays a member of the public in the process of contextualizing and finding meaning in art in their environment.
Río Magdalena:
Río Magdalena hace parte de Duraciones y recorridos, una serie de videos y acciones simbólicas que hablan de la condición cambiante de seres que están en el paisaje (árboles, piedras, ríos, pastos) cuyas dimensiones temporales y edades me sobrecogen. Pienso las acciones como conversaciones con esos seres que me permiten tener una conciencia distinta de mi propia dimensión temporal, de la experiencia del paso del tiempo, y de la vida en la Tierra.
En el video Río Magdalena, camino repetidamente a lo largo de su orilla, imitando el continuo pasar del agua. Mi acción surge de la pregunta por la cualidad de ese ser antiguo que, en su continuo pasar, cambia y fluye incesantemente. Al caminar junto al río, me interesa, por un lado, resaltar la imposibilidad de que el tiempo se repita igual; y por otro, registrar la forma en que ambos, el río y yo, momento a momento, al pasar, somos distintos. El río Magdalena, o Caripuaña, que significa río grande, es una de las fuentes de agua más importantes de Colombia; se formó hace más de dos millones de años, mucho tiempo antes de que los humanos pobláramos sus orillas y camináramos a su lado.
Río Magdalena is part of Duraciones y recorridos (Durations and Journeys), a series of videos and symbolic actions that refer to the changing condition of beings in the landscape (trees, stones, rivers, grasses) whose temporal dimensions and long ages surprise me. I conceive these actions as conversations with those beings, which allow me to have a different awareness of my own temporal dimension, my experience of the passage of time, and the duration of life on Earth.
In the video Río Magdalena, I walk repeatedly alongside the Magdalena River, echoing the continuous flow of its water. The action arises from my query on the quality of this ancient being that, in its continuous flow, ebbs and twirls incessantly. As I walk alongside the river, I am interested, on the one hand, in highlighting the impossibility of time repeating itself and, on the other hand, in highlighting the way in which both the River and I, moment by moment, are different as we go by. The Magdalena River, or Caripuaña (big river) is one of the most important watercourses in Colombia. It was formed more than two million years ago, long before we humans populated its banks and walked alongside it.
BUCH Gallery
loading slideshow...
Vigil at the Sanctuary of the Virgin of Guadalupe, terminal point of the Womens’ Silent Procession | Velada al final de la procesión del silencio de las mujeres, Santuario Guadalupana, Zamora, 29 marzo de 2024
According to local authorities—municipal and religious—about 15,000 women participated in the procession in 2024. They were received by the Sanctuary’s Rector, Father Raul Ventura, who congratulated them: “Zamora is consolidating as a top destination for religious tourism.” Autoridades municipales y religiosas confirmaron la asistencia de 15,000 mujeres en la procesión. Fueron recibidas en la explanada del santuario por su Rector, el padre Raúl Ventura, quien las felicitó: “Zamora se consolida como líder en el turismo religioso.”
“Today we accompany the Virgin in her pain, in hopes she will accompany us in ours” | Nos acompañamos con el dolor de la Virgencita el día de hoy, esperanzadas de que ella se conmueva con nosotras
The Womens’ March of Silence during Holy Week grew exponentially between 2020 and 2024. In Michoacán, the church formerly organized the Marcha del Silencio strictly as a men’s activity, re-enacting the Stations of the Cross. Women’s organizations at particular parishes pressured for recognition of a womens’ march to re-enact the vigil of Mary, mother of Christ, after the crucifixion. There have been struggles to control the meaning of the event in Zamora; for some groups the aim is to appeal to the Virgin as a bereaved mother in a violent time. La Marcha del Silencio de las mujeres creció exponencialmente entre el 2020 y el 2024.En Michoacán, siempre se había promovído la Marcha del Silencio de los hombres, que representa las estaciones de la cruz. Organizaciones de mujeres en parróquias específicas presionaron para el reconocimiento de una procesión posterior que representaría la noche oscura de la Virgin en su duelo siguiendo a la crucifixión. Ha habido disputas por el significado del evento y de su crecimiento. Para muchas, el sentido es de apelar a ella como otra madre afligida en un tiempo violento.
He has a pretty good idea of peoples’ reasons for being awake at night. Zamora, October 2022. Conoce los motivos que tienen sus clientes para circular de noche. Zamora, octubre de 2022
“Why blame the night, if they kill you by day?” | “¿Qué culpa tiene la noche, si te matan de día?”
Food stands, with their bright lights, draw together sleepless neighbors and strangers, a nocturnal sociability they won’t give up easily. Taxi drivers, policemen, overnight hospital staff coincide. After midnight, the conversations grow more philosophical, as they connect bits of stories that will never appear in a newspaper. Colonia Duero, Zamora, Michoacán, 2022. Los puestos de comida con sus luces convocan de lejos a convivir con vecinos o desconocidos, una sociabilidad que no se rinde. Taxistas, personal de urgencias, policias coinciden. Después de la medianoche, la conversación suele volverse más filosófica. Se juntan pedacitos de noticias que nunca saldrán en un periódico. Colonia El Duero, Zamora, enero de 2022.
Family observing a nine-day period of mourning called a novenario. | Novenario pandémico, Colonia El Duero, Zamora, Michoacán, 2020.
The picture on the small altar is of a loved one who had died of Covid. Zamora, Michoacán, 2020.
The BUCH Gallery, located just outside the offices of the BU Center for the Humanities at 725 Commonwealth Ave, launches its inaugural exhibit as part of the Pedestrian Space forum March, 2026: Photos of Zamora featuring photographers Laura Rousch and Samuel Rivera.
These photographs explore and dissect notions of access, accessibility, safety and their opposites.