Sam Ozer – You’re presenting Prêt-à-Patria (2021) for the Venice Biennale. This work dissects symbols of the Mexican military and notions of nationalism and macho culture more broadly by referencing the Escolta de bandera or the Flag escort performed by military men. Have you always been interested in the military or is this more recent research?

Bárbara Sánchez-Kane – I’m interested in costuming and how the costume builds and performs the body. There’s something very cinematic and theatrical about the military uniform: the uniform molds the body and makes the proportions look taller and stronger. In the end, the uniform is an identifier and the military is a system that everyone recognizes. However, you can take two different systems of hierarchical powers–gender and authority–and deconstruct them. 

From the assless trousers of your take on the uniform exposing lace lingerie to the title Prêt-à-Patria, which combines the fashion term prêt-à-porter, (meaning “ready-to-wear”), and patria (the Spanish word for homeland), there is something tongue-in-cheek and camp about your approach. Also, this funny idea of the military as a fashion house. 

Well, the style and production of the uniform are very interesting. Everything is made in-house. Also, I’m not sure if this is typical of other countries, but in Mexico, every government changes the color of the military outfit. Under AMLO [Andrés Manuel López Obrador], everything changed to olive green. Before that, there was dark blue and green. 

Oh wow, the uniform changes even within the same political party?

Yes, under every president, there is a slightly different uniform and a specific color. 

You recently went to the military academy, right? Did you see the production of the uniforms?

I did, it was a crazy experience. Every Thursday, the students do a parade for their parents, and a friend invited me. I took an Uber and arrived alone, so I waited a bit in a line outside. I was a woman, a lesbian, waiting–the military doesn’t like either of these, so the guy was very rude. I also realized there was something very classist about the situation. I didn’t arrive with a car and a guard, and friends who drove went straight in. In the end, it’s about hierarchical control. But the place is amazing: it is a mix of prehispanic futuristic architecture designed by Agustín Hernández. I remember it was very cold that day, so all the trainees wore these amazing wool coats. It looked like a movie set. I was overstimulated for a week after.

And this is where most people in the military train?

Almost all of them. There is a room with painted portraits of all of the past directors. I was able to see the uniform: it was a mix of montañas (mountains) and the selva (jungle).  For security purposes and so the uniform isn’t replicated, it has this specific symbol, a cross of an Aztec weapon called a macuahuitl, and a firearm. I asked one of the cadets what happened to the old uniforms and he said they burned them like the flags. You know the really big flags you see throughout the city? They have a lifespan of a year because of the pollution, so the military burns them to avoid them going to Narcos. The cadet said that the military has a cemetery of all of the ashes of flags, though I don’t know if he meant this in a metaphoric, romantic way. This made me think of Teresa Margolles.

I first saw Prêt-à-Patria at kurimanzutto gallery in Mexico City in 2021, where it was shown as a sculptural installation and a performance video. In Venice, there will be the sculpture, but now there will be a live performance?

I always wanted to do a performance but because of COVID, I couldn’t do it in 2021, so I made the performance video.

The video had quite a few performers marching? Will it be men from the same association? I understand they are not part of the military but follow military rules and have created their own associations to perform the military rituals, almost like historical reenactments.

Yes, they’re not part of the military but they literally follow the protocol of militaries. In Venice, the performance will have two men. When I first made the video in 2021, I was thinking about Fassbinder’s film Querelle: it’s about this sailor who is discovering his sexuality. I was thinking about the military and what it does to bodies. These are docile bodies being trained and waiting for the political truth regarding what they are going to be used for, what the soldiers will be commanded to do. So, in the film, there is the sailor Querelle having this love affair and being gay within the Marines (his supervisor is gay, too). There is eventually a fight between Querelle and his brother, and they are circling each other. 

Instead of just talking about the violence of the military, I wanted to talk about desire. In Venice, the performance will begin at the circular base of the sculpture and then move around it, but I’m really thinking about this circle from the film—of these brothers confronting each other and this sense of desire, violence, and control. I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but on Grindr, there is a whole thing about wearing a military uniform. In the choreography I’m working with, there will be these very structural martial military marks that the men will follow, but there will be a bit of breaking. At one point, I had this idea of telling them to go out, dressed in their military costumes, and find love or sex or whatever, being a spy and fucking someone in the art world and bringing back a button or something. 

I love that. So, cruising the biennale.