Luis Guenel Soto

Hi, if you want to write something about me, please send me an email to: I will try to respond as soon as possible and upload your comment.

OGUTU MURAYA is a writer and theater maker whose work is embedded in the practice of Orature.

Here I will try to post my search process through the different labs.

Ogutu Muraya

Ogutu is a writer and theater maker whose work is embedded in the practice of Orature. Ogutu is based in Nairobi where he continues his artistic practice and also teaches part time at the department of film and performing arts at KCA University.

The laboratory with OGUTU MURAYA was my first laboratory via Zoom (5 am. Chile - 9 am. Amsterdam - 9 am. Berlin - 10 am. Nairobi)

“Time is not a series but an interlocking of presents, pasts and futures that retain their depths of other pasts presents and futures, each age bearing, altering and maintaining the previous ones… To focus on the time of entanglement then is to repudiate not only linear models but the ignorance they maintain and the extremism to which they have repeatedly given rise.” Achille Mbembe.

From a series of readings on: how we create, how we imagine, how we defend our discourses, how we deal with our history, how we face our own dilemmas… many stimuli appeared that encouraged me to find ways to unlearn, to destabilize knowledge, to question stories, to rescue forgotten memories…

They were four very intense days. Really thinking how to make an artistic gesture more committed, more real. More real with what I'm looking for right now. ¿What is real, what is true?

This is my summary of the laboratory, of a first meeting with Ogutu Muraya and with my 4 colleagues, all connected from different countries.

List of actions, dreams, provocations, obsessions to unlearn and start again:

- Stop looking in books for the concepts that move you, just put them into practice, disarm them according to your intuition.

- Face creation as a child, always as a first time.

- Listen, listen and listen… to others, to everyone you haven't heard before.

- Give yourself time to be with yourself, as a meditation, that forces you to listen to yourself daily. Personal observation before production.

- Establish a daily practice to dream. To write the impossible. To share the impossible. To escape.

- Be aware of our power relations in each space we inhabit.

- To be available for the void, for the loss. Loving the loss as a possibility.

- Be another. Be the mute. Be the blind one. Being the one who didn't go to school.

- Embracing risk not to show your strength, but to let yourself be surprised.

- Walk daily. Feel how the air modifies your body.

- Create songs, games, dilemmas for children.

- Burn the books. Burn the flags.

- Attend Das as a meeting point, not as a place of knowledge.

- look at the world from a tree, from a cloud … be a bird, be the Amazon on fire by writing a letter.

- Recognize your wounds. Open them. Draw them from a view of today.

- Make a list of all those we do not want to forget.

Lara Staal

The trial as artistic strategy to reckon with the past.

The first provocation I remember from this laboratory was a phrase shared by Lara:

“In a world in which no one cares about the past anymore, but no one has any hope in the future, The stones must start talking again”

                                  Srecko Horvat, Poetry from the future.

Lara's second provocation

with which historical element would you like to work? And why? what would you like to add to the historical material that is already there? in what performative form would you like to deal with this specific historical happening? what is the role of the audience? - who are the voices you want to include? Or amplify? is there an aspect that you could already start to work on?

Notes, questions, ideas…

¿How do I deal with the past in my research?

Our hyper-capitalist society (Chile) makes daily efforts to end the local identities of the territories… that's why I´m thinking about an investigation under the following topics: community, home, inhabit, memory.

I´m working with Ruins. Ruins of a specific house, ruins as a metaphor of our society. Capitalism eliminate communities, neighborhoods, a way of dealing with citizens as consumers. It is urgent to reflect in political, aesthetic and community terms about how local traditions and identities can dialogue territorially, with a present of restoration, construction and gentrification that is aimed at turning our memory into a spectacle. Political perspective of / political move of turning our memories into spectacles with the promise of progress. Identity is not a closed concept. It`s in movement. Human beings don`t live alone. We need relationships. The trial could be a strategy to generate material for our own practice. How can I use all these strategies to my own project. The architecture of fiction from a forensic perspective. What place do I occupy in this crime? What truth do I want to expose? Why is it true? what is the truth?

Human beings cannot live alone, they need ties, landscapes, whether to find or lose themselves in, after all a home is made with others, the community, neighbours.

I will deal with the past from the point of view of a ruin.

This is my summary of the laboratory, of a first meeting with Lara Staal, my reaction was:

Dear Country:

Seeing as you have dared, I’ll also dare. I’ll dare to tell one truth, that many already know, but our justice system is decidedly blind to it. I have a duty to talk, I don’t want to be an accomplice to this farce. So, I come before you, in whatever format you prefer, I can be a rock, coal or sand, although personally, I prefer to be called a Ruin. A ruin that has battled against rain, sleet and earthquakes. A ruin that has been held by hundreds of hands. A ruin that remembers its birth is the dense forest under the bark of a larch. A ruin that could have been firewood, a violin or a house, the latter being my fate. A ruin on the point of extinction, that’s why I am here, with my last breath to say what I think and not to be an accomplice to this farce that is trying spread across all territories.

Do you believe that a tree cannot enjoy the wind? Do you believe that the clouds won’t get ill from our noise? That houses don’t keep secrets? That the mountains don’t flirt with the snow? Ladies and gentlemen, I can tell you that I have seen all of this and more, I have seen houses dancing in water, I’ve heard the Amazonas sing a mantra… I’ve heard the Indigenous cry under the cement. I’d like to ask you Weren’t we witnesses to your wars?

For all these reasons, today I accuse you all, yes, all of you I accuse you of neglecting the past. I accuse you of not looking after our grandparent’s legacy that they built with their bare hands. I accuse you of seeing ruins as a burden that you can’t wait to get rid of I accuse you of forgetting the fraternal greeting, of listening attentively to another. I accuse of forgetting the spontaneous dance of our friends and children… What is the attraction of the ephemeral and new? Is it that it hurts nobody or because it puts up no resistance? Now, the beautiful appears before you like something neat and tidy, something measured only by its present, its immediacy, its consumer value.

This afternoon, I’d like to tell you that beauty shines in silence… Beauty is painful, so maybe I think we no longer want to suffer… So, I gather my strength, and I say to you: Beauty is not found on the screen, rather it happens in re-encounters and recognition.

I am a ruin that talks from anger and hope. A current and profound anger. This accusation is placed in the middle of the worst ever drought and hopes to transform in a tiny ray of light around which love can revolve. Today I accuse all of you, the country, of having lost beauty.