By César Adolfo López Aréchiga

After several months of research and experimentation within the techniques of papermaking, I managed to create my own version, by rethinking the traditional forms, incorporating textiles, garbage and waste from different points of Jalisco. One of my biggest goals was to revive and preserve the pre-Hispanic techniques that have been disappearing over time and have been forgotten. Working with these materials made me discover an infinite number of possibilities to make paper and work with it.

In the middle of my search with the paper, I received the invitation to make a mural inside one of the penitentiary centers of "Puente Grande", where I experienced for the first time what the prison was, the confinement, the loss of freedom, and all the factors that lead you to oblivion. By seeing this closely on my first visit, it was inevitable for me to connect it with my process on the paper. I reject the invitation to make the mural, to rethink the project in what was going to be HARBAR, a project that was going to unite the oblivion. Forgotten people learning forgotten techniques. The paper as a means of communication and expression to connect and give meaning to prisoners considered "highly dangerous”, Hands accustomed for destruction finding a new form of creation. The social reintegration of the paper, they are both dependents on the other to reaffirm their connection with humanity to not be forgotten.

Within my search and need to delve into what I consider the limits of the spectrum of freedom, I moved my studio to the maximum security center "The Metropolitano", giving space to other forms of creation, such as painting, sculpture and clay.

The doors opened unconsciously of what was going to be a deep connection with themselves, a more human place, and a place that we have insisted on not accessing, the problem is shared by everyone.

45 days in Harbar, documents the scope of art, as a weapon of reintegration and connection, in a lacerating and fucked up context, we open dialogue to a forgotten world, but which is the faithful representation of what happens in our country, wastes of circumstances, bad decisions and lack of opportunities. It ́s a different panorama that shows only a portion of our environment that is far from the reality eclipsed by television series. By facing this denial, we face the search for our truth. In 45 days in Harbar we delve into all these lives, always as a thread, the arts, Harbar is the University of Life where you learn to value what you have and what you lose...

My stay was documented with the audiovisual work 45 Días en Harbar. Likewise, there is a personal logbook and a series of photographic records that contribute to this process. The complete project includes the creation of different artistic pieces made inside and outside jail, such as: photographs, video installations, sound design, mixed techniques paintings, sculptures made with different materials and graphic work in different techniques on paper made inside of prison. (Serigraphy, cyanography, linoleum, xylography, drypoint, strong water, digital printing and laser).

I will make a series of sculptures of the inmates in real size, to present them in public and private spaces (museums, on the street, private galleries and festivals), with the intention of confronting their physical image with a denied society from their existence, a symbolic manifestation towards oblivion. Distorted faces in motion, stifled by the need to be seen and heard. Looking to identify with who is seeing them. Opening a dialogue towards the context in which we are all participants.

My intention with this project is to achieve the greatest possible impact, to open the dialogue and face a society denied with its reality. I want to open the panorama from my experience; we have to generate another point of view. Harbar gives voice from an objective and neutral place to an ignored and forgotten world, so we can fully understand the harsh situation in which we are all stuck. It's time to take over and take charge in this matter.