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by ÃÖ°í°ü¸®ÀÚ | 16.03.25 10:48 | 6,348 hit

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Roberto Lugo





I am a potter, activist, culture-maker, rapper, poet, and educator.

All of these roles that ¡°I am¡± are rooted in my childhood.

Having had no formal music or art education as a child,

I often practiced table drumming and writing hip-hop lyrics ,

as it was customary to ¡°battle rap¡± during lunch times. Instead of art class,

 I drew in my composition book, and marked every wall that I could.

 ¡°Graffiti¡± was a way to get my name into the community,

to attain a local fame that satisfied my desire for an accessible past time.

³ª´Â µµ¿¹°¡ÀÌÀÚ, ¿îµ¿°¡, ¹®È­¸¦ »ý»êÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷À̸ç, µ¿½Ã¿¡ ·¡ÆÛ, ½ÃÀÎ, ±³À°ÀÚÀÌ´Ù.

¡°³ª¶ó´Â Á¸À硱ÀÇ ÀÌ ¸ðµç ¿ªÇÒµéÀº ³ªÀÇ ¾î¸° ½ÃÀý¿¡ »Ñ¸®¸¦ µÎ°í ÀÖ´Ù.

¾î¸° ½ÃÀý¿¡ Á¤½ÄÀ¸·Î À½¾Ç, ¹Ì¼ú ±³À°À» ¹Þ¾Æº¸Áö ¾Ê¾Æ,

³ª´Â Å×ÀÌºí¿¡¼­ µå·³À» Ä¡°Å³ª Á¡½É½Ã°£ µ¿¾È ¹èƲ ·¦À» ÇÏ´Â °ÍÀÌ °ü½ÀÀûÀ̾ ÈüÇÕ °¡»ç¸¦ ¾´´Ù.

 ¹Ì¼ú¼ö¾÷ ´ë½Å¿¡ ³ª´Â ÀÛ¹®ÇÏ´Â ³ëÆ®¿¡ ±×¸²À» ±×·È°í,

³»°¡ ³«¼­ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â º®À̶õ º®Àº ¸ðµÎ ³«¼­¸¦ Çß´Ù.

 ¡°±×·¡ÇÇƼ¡±´Â ³ªÀÇ ¿©°¡½Ã°£¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ³ªÀÇ ¿­¸ÁÀ» ÃæÁ·½ÃÄÑ ÁÜ°ú µ¿½Ã¿¡ Áö¿ªÀû ¸í¼ºÀ» ¾òÀº,

ÀÌ °øµ¿Ã¼¿¡ ³ªÀÇ À̸§À» ¾Ë¸®°Ô ÇÑ ¹æ¹ýÀÌ´Ù.

 

I am from the ghetto; self-referentially I am a ghetto potter.

The word ghetto can be seen as a negative

but I equate ¡°ghetto¡± with the word ¡°resourceful.¡±

My father would convert washing machine engines and tin can lids into shredders.

These were fused into large food processors that

 could make large amount of a base used to make Puerto Rican food.

 This food was sold and the money sent to indigent communities of the Dominican Republic.

 This transformative act of turning trash into treasure

has driven me to be the artist I am today.

³ª´Â ºó¹Î°¡ Ãâ½ÅÀÌ´Ù. ´Ù½Ã ¸»ÇÏÀÚ¸é ³ª´Â ¡°°ÔÅ䡱(ºó°ïÇÑ °í¸³µÈ)µµ¿¹°¡ÀÌ´Ù.

°ÔÅä¶ó´Â ´Ü¾î´Â ºÎÁ¤ÀûÀ¸·Î º¸ÀÏ ¼ö ÀÖÁö¸¸, ³ª´Â °ÔÅä¶ó´Â ´Ü¾î¸¦ dzºÎÇÔ°ú µ¿ÀϽÃÇÑ´Ù.

³ªÀÇ ¾Æ¹öÁö´Â ¼¼Å¹±â ¿£Áø°ú ÁÖ¼® ±øÅëÀ» °³Á¶ÇØ ºÐ¼â±â¸¦ ¸¸µé°ï Çϼ̴Ù.

À̰͵éÀº Å« Ǫµå ÇÁ·Î¼¼¼­(¹Í¼­±âó·³ »ý°å´Âµ¥ ¹Í¼­º¸´Ù ±â´ÉÀÌ ¸¹Àº Á¶¸®±â±¸)¿¡ µé¾î°¡¼­

Ǫ¿¡¸£Å丮ÄÚ À½½ÄÀ» ¸¸µå´Âµ¥ ¸¹ÀÌ »ç¿ëµÇ¾ú´Ù.

ÀÌ À½½ÄÀ» ÆÈ°í, ±× µ·À¸·Î µµ¹Ì´ÏÄ« °øÈ­±¹ÀÇ ÅäÂø °øµ¿Ã¼¿¡ º¸³Â´Ù.

¾²·¹±â¸¦ º¸¹°·Î ¸¸µå´Â ÀÌ·± º¯È­ÀÇ ÇàÀ§´Â Áö±ÝÀÇ ³ª¶ó´Â ¿¹¼ú°¡¸¦ ¸¸µå´Âµ¥ Å« ÀÏÁ¶¸¦ Çß´Ù.

 

Although my history is filled with adversity, racism and sheer bad luck;

I celebrate these moments in my work, I could not make art without

 the experiences they have offered to me.

The act of making pots is a similar process of transforming the ground

we walk on into something we eat from; we prize;

we search all day for the perfect spot to put it on display.

In many ways this relationship from tragedy to triumph is a metaphor for my life¡¯s story.

³ªÀÇ ÀÏ»ýÀº ¿ª°æ, ÀÎÁ¾Â÷º°, ¼øÀüÇÑ ºÒ¿î µîÀ¸·Î °¡µæÇÏÁö¸¸;

³ª´Â ÀÌ·± ¼ø°£µéÀ» ³» ÀÛ¾÷À» ÅëÇØ ±â³äÇÑ´Ù.

³ª´Â ¹ß»ýÇÏÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´ø °æÇèÀÌ Á¸ÀçÇÏÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸é ÀÛ¾÷À» ÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù.

±â(Ðï)ÀÛ¾÷À» ÇÏ´Â °ÍÀº ¿ì¸®°¡ °È´Â ÀÌ ¶¥À» ¸Ô´Âµ¥ »ç¿ëÇϰųª,

¼ÒÁßÇÏ°Ô ¿©±â°í, Àü½Ã¸¦ À§ÇØ ¿Ïº®ÇÑ Àå¼Ò¸¦ ¿ÂÁ¾ÀÏ Ã£¾Æ´Ù´Ï´Â °ÍÀ¸·Î ¹Ù²Ù´Â °úÁ¤°ú ºñ½ÁÇÏ´Ù.

´Ù¾çÇÑ ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î ÀÌ ºñ±Ø¿¡¼­ ¼ºÃë·ÎÀÇ °ü°è´Â ³ªÀÇ »îÀÇ À̾߱⿡ ´ëÇÑ ÀºÀ¯·Î Ç¥ÇöµÈ´Ù.

 


My life¡¯s story takes shape in the form of teapots, poetry,

murals,rap, artist talks, and sheer acts of activism.

I teach communities to make mosaic murals that pay homage to

 those killed in their neighborhood streets;

promoting equality by exhibiting the same respect for the lost people of the ghetto

 in the same way Christian saints were paid tribute in renaissance Italy.

It takes courage to talk about what happens behinds closed doors.

When I speak of my experience, someone might say,

¡°I didn¡¯t know anyone else went through that or felt that way too¡±.

³» Àλý À̾߱â´Â ƼÆÌ, ½Ã, º®È­, ·¦, ¾ÆƼ½ºÆ® ÅäÅ©,

±×¸®°í ¼øÀüÈ÷ ÇൿÁÖÀǷμ­ÀÇ ¿òÁ÷ÀÓÀ¸·Î Çü»óÈ­µÈ´Ù.

³ª´Â »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô ±×Áö¿ªÀÇ »ìÇØ´çÇÑ »ç¶÷µéÀ» ¿À¸¶ÁÖÇÏ´Â ¸ðÀÚÀÌÅ© º®È­¸¦ Á¦ÀÛÇÏ´Â °ÍÀ» °¡¸£Ä£´Ù.

¸£³×»ó½º ÀÌÅ»¸®¾Æ¿¡¼­ ¼ºÀε鿡°Ô °æÀǸ¦ Ç¥ÇÏ´Â ¹æ¹ý°ú °°Àº ¹æ¹ýÀ¸·Î

ºó¹Î°¡¿¡¼­ Á×Àº »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ôµµ °°Àº Á¸°æÀ» Ç¥ÇÏ°Ô Çϸ鼭 Æòµî¿¡ ´ëÇؼ­ Àå·ÁÇÑ´Ù.

»ç¶÷µéÀº Àß ¾Ë·ÁÁöÁö ¾ÊÀº, ¾ËÁö ¸øÇÏ´Â °Í¿¡ ´ëÇؼ­ À̾߱â ÇÏ·Á´Â °Í¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ¿ë±â°¡ ÇÊ¿äÇÏ´Ù.

³»°¡ ³ªÀÇ °æÇèÀ» À̾߱âÇÒ ¶§, ¾î¶² »ç¶÷Àº,

¡°´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷ÀÌ ±×°É °æÇèÇß´ÂÁö, ¾Æ´Ï¸é ±×·¸°Ô ´À²¼´ÂÁö ¸ô¶ú¾î¿ä¡±¶ó°í ¸»ÇÒ ¼öµµ ÀÖ´Ù.

 

 

Today my graffiti is defacing adversity.

 I am a composite of my experiences; on the wheel in my studio

 you will find a variation of a Woody Guthrie quotation,

¡°This Machine kills Hate¡±, There I play hip-hop music, burn sticks of Indian incense,

sip Puerto Rican Malta, and thumb through books on historic Royal porcelain.

My experiences as a poor, brown kid from the ghetto are my 22 years of research which

 inform my version of Puerto Rican American history.

With my education in critical theory, art education, art history,

and studio art I have developed a studio practice

 that fluidly communicates with diverse audiences.

I bring art to those that don¡¯t believe they need it to see it

and engage in deeper ways of knowing, learning and thinking.

¿À´Ã³¯ ³ªÀÇ ±×·¡ÇÇƼ´Â ¿ª°æÀ̶ó´Â °ÍÀ» ÈѼÕÇÏ°í ÀÖ´Ù.

³ªÀÇ °æÇèµéÀÇ ÇÕ¼º¹°Àº ¹Ù·Î ³ª¶ó´Â »ç¶÷ÀÌ´Ù.

³» ÀÛ¾÷ÀåÀÇ ¹°·¹¿¡´Â ¿ìµð ±¸Æ®¸®ÀÇ ¸í¾ðÀÇ º¯ÇüÀÎ

¡°ÀÌ ±â°è´Â Áõ¿À¸¦ ¾ø¾Ø´Ù.¡±¶ó´Â ¸»À» º¼ ¼ö ÀÖ´Ù.

 ¹°·¹¿¡¼­ ÀÛ¾÷ÇÒ ¶§, ³ª´Â ÈüÇÕÀ½¾ÇÀ» Ʋ¾î³õ°í, Àεµ Àμ¾½º¸¦ Å¿ì°í,

Ǫ¿¡¸£Å丮ÄÚ ¸»Å¸Â÷¸¦ ¸¶½Ã¸ç, ¿ª»çÀûÀÎ ·Î¾â Æ÷½½¸°¿¡ ´ëÇÑ Ã¥À» Àд´Ù.

ºó¹Î°¡¿¡¼­ ¿Â °¡³­ÇÑ À¯»öÀÎÁ¾ ¾ÆÀ̷μ­ÀÇ ³ªÀÇ °æÇèÀº

Ǫ¿¡¸£Å丮ÄÚ°è ¹Ì±¹ÀÎÀÇ ¿ª»ç¿¡ ´ëÇÑ 22³â°£ÀÇ ¸®¼­Ä¡ÀÎ ¼ÀÀÌ´Ù.

ºñÆòÀÌ·Ð, ¹Ì¼ú ±³À°, ¹Ì¼ú»ç, ±×¸®°í Á¶Çü½Ç±â¿¡ ´ëÇؼ­ ±³À°¹ÞÀ¸¸ç

³ª´Â ´Ù¾çÇÑ ¹üÁÖÀÇ °ü°´µé°ú À¯µ¿ÀûÀ¸·Î ¼ÒÅëÇÏ´Â ÀÛ¾÷À» ¹ßÀü½ÃÄÑ¿Ô´Ù.

³ª´Â ¿¹¼úÀ» º¼ ÇÊ¿ä°¡ ¾ø´Ù°í ´À³¢°Å³ª, ´õ ±íÀÌ ¾Ë°Å³ª, ¹è¿ì°í,

»ý°¢ÇÒ ÇÊ¿ä°¡ ¾ø´Ù°í ÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô °¡Á®¿Â´Ù.






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