This article, which deals with a small Guadalajara-based organization of social scientists dedicated to bettering the lives of the city’s at-risk youth vis-a-vis the outlet provided by art, is for those whose reaction to the threatening spectacle of groups – or gangs – of young people gathering on the street to graffiti, freestyle rap or breakdance may be some variation of “Get off my lawn!” or “There goes the neighborhood!”
For the social scientists behind the Guadalajara grassroots non-profit Casa Quinque, making you rethink your gut reaction to practitioners of the street arts is a key element of their mission statement – along with facilitating their artistic visions, and, in the process, weening them off of less constructive forms of self-expression.
While Guadalajara doesn’t make as big a splash in national and international media as, say, Ciudad Juarez or Acapulco, it would be naive to assume that the city is free of gang violence and adolescent delinquency. Peripheral neighborhoods such as La Jalisco, Santa Cecilia, Oblatos and Miravalle are breeding grounds for gang activity. A recent study showed that of the 690 gang members making up 19 of the city’s most prominent gangs, 480 were between the ages of 11 and 16. Suffice to say that many young people in these areas see little option other than to become part of one of these extra-legal clubs.
Casa Quinque, whose sole benefactor is a mysterious Guadalajara-area woman who wishes to remain completely anonymous and out of the public eye, is found on a desolate stretch of road in the Capilla de Jesus neighborhood, a 20-minute walk northwest of the centro historico.
While threading my way through the property’s Moorish layout (a central, shaded courtyard surrounded by a warren of interconnected rooms), I was accompanied by three of Casa Quinque’s six founders, all in their thirties, who supplied me with historical information and explained the group’s overall mission and modus operandi.
Martin Torres, a loquacious Chilean sociologist who is the only person who actually lives on the property, provided the bulk of information, with Tapatios Manuel Alcala and Alejandra Arribas, a psychologist and urbanist, respectively, throwing in comments as they saw fit.
Casa Quinque was founded in 2012, but up until May of this year the organization was essentially itinerate, roaming the streets of poor Guadalajara neighborhoods in search of pockets of disaffected but talented youth to guide.
“Before any trip, we do a kind of diagnostic of the target neighborhood,” Torres explained as we strolled slowly from room to room admiring artwork either mounted or leaning against the off-white walls. “We talk with community leaders, neighbors, so that we aren’t just random strangers – and to take the temperature, to gauge interest. After this first stage, we start talking to groups of kids, who are often members of crews or gangs.”
And being that Casa Quinque’s central raison d’être is providing an alternative to the dead-end violence of life on the streets, they try and ensure that the art created in conjunction with the organization doesn’t serve to merely glamorize or aggrandize said lifestyle.
“The first thing we do after we’ve gotten to know [the kids], before any work is done, is to have them reflect upon what they would like to produce,” Torres said. “We don’t want the work to promote violence – for instance, a simple painting of a gun.
“And during that process, we also talk about techniques, a discussion which involves artistic associates of ours who offer them technical guidance.”
In fact, Casa Quinque has been working among and with Guadalajara’s street artists long enough not only to have built up a wide network throughout the city, but also to see many former “delinquents” become instructors and mentors in their own right, assisting the association in its ongoing mission.
As is easy to imagine, the non-profit’s modus is not without its risks, with several of them having ended up in jail for short periods.
“The work is very slow. We work with the municipality closely, but [harassment] still occurs. The important thing is to not point the finger at the police, but the culture itself, which is a culture of criminalization. ‘Oh, this isn’t art, its just crap.’ To change this attitude takes time.”
But Casa Quinque is no 12-step program or Christian reform mission dedicated to governing how the young live their lives, a fact highlighted by the party they threw two days after my visit, which featured a live band and beer. As the quiet, monastically bearded Manuel Alcala explained, they see their role as hands-off facilitators, rather than formal teachers or social workers.
“This is a space for them,” said Alcala. “These chavos aren’t able to show their work in ‘legit’ galleries; they don’t have credentials, experience, etcetera. But if they have an idea, they can realize it here. They’re in charge. They invite people, promote their events. We don’t interfere.”
On the building’s second floor, where two garrulous pitbull puppies greeted us with lolling tongues and excited yaps, a garden is being planned, just down the hall from the groups’ administrative office and adjacent kitchen.
Several rooms around the property remain vacant, but given the industriousness evinced by Torres and company, they won’t remain so for very long. A darkroom and recording studio are currently in the works.
“I don’t know of any organization like ours,” Torres said at the end of the tour. “Similar, but not quite. Most groups [which work with under-privileged youth] are either institutional or completely informal – collectives. We are absolutely not of the government, but we are a formal organization. The only way we could occupy this space is to be formally recognized by the government.”
Torres paused for a second to catch his breath, and then continued. “Our mission is to create an alternative to violence. That’s exactly what we’re trying to do: provide a space for something else. Also, eliminate the stigma of street art, and by extension, those who make it, i.e., the kids.”
To keep track of Casa Quinque’s activities, go to their Facebook page, which features upcoming events and photos. Their headquarters are located at Calle Juan N. Cumplido 427, Guadalajara.