Views from the City: Atocha Memorial to the Victims of the 11-M 2004 Terrorist Attacks in Madrid

Currently, Madrid has two memorials honoring the lives of the 192 victims of the terrorist attacks at the Atocha train station. One of the memorials, El Bosque de los Ausentes - The Forest of the Departed - is located in El Parque de Buen Retiro, which sits on the east side of downtown Madrid. This installation of 'Views from the City" will focus on the second memorial at the station.

The 'Monumento en Recuerdo de las Victimas del 11-M," which was unveiled on March 11, 2007, features four sections: an entrance with the names of the 192 victims, a blue room with an opening in the roof that leads to a pressurized plastic membrane with inscription from condolences from around the world that the country received after the attacks. A glass tower, which stands next to the station, encapsulates the membrane; the tower lights up in the evening.

The panel with the victim's names

The contemplation room

The membrane with copies of condolences from countries around the world

The view of glass tower from the Atocha Renfe station

Some background about the attacks. On the morning of March 11, 2004, an group of Islamic terrorists, who were 'inspired' by Al Qaeda, detonated backpack bombs on four Cercenias trains that serve the suburbs around Madrid. 192 people were killed; 1,800 injured. The aftermath of the attacks, which occurred three days before the country's national election, shook the Spanish political establishment as the PSOE and the incumbent PP began to accuse each other of covering up information over the source of the attacks.

Long story short, the PSOE defeated the right wing PP, which initially blamed the attacks on the ETA to save face over the claims that the attacks were a direct response for the Spanish government's involvement in Operation Iraqi Freedom. I will not attempt to summarize the entire course of events; I suggest the wikipedia entry and this bbc link for more information on 11-M and its aftermath.

Although I do not know anyone who lost a loved one in the attacks, I am very familiar with these trains: I take a Cercanias to the UC3M's campus in Getafe to conduct my research. I have also visited Alcala de Henares, Cervantez's birthplace and the Cercanias station where the suicide bombers loaded the explosives on each train. Whenever I take the line out to Getafe, I think for a moment about the individuals who were rushing to Madrid, only to never make it to their destination. It is truly a haunting feeling to experience on a pleasant ride to campus.

The Bomb Scare

Sometimes the most interesting things happen when you decide to stay in on a Saturday night.

After a long day training for my volunteer work with La Comision Española al Ayudo del Refugiado, I decided to remain at home last night to cook a meal, watch some television, play some guitar, and catch up on sleep.

I managed to meet my simple goals at 10:00 and decided to head to bed. Just as I changed into into my pajamas, I heard my buzzer ringing over and over again. My roommates had left for the night, so I figured one of them left their keys and needed me to buzz them into the apartment. I picked up the phone and heard a police officer demanding to be let in. I complied with his request and open my piso's door to see two officers running up the stairs and knocking on each door.

As they ran up to my floor, one of the officers told me to get dressed and open the windows in my piso to reduce the pressure in the building; I instantly knew that emergency revolved around a bomb threat or a fire. I asked him to explain the nature of the emergency to no avail; getting out was more important, anyhow. I immediately ran into my apartment to open the windows and turned around to ask the officer if I needed to open or close anything else in the apartment. He stepped into the apartment, saw the door, nodded, and then told me to change into street clothes. I dashed into my room, changed into street clothes, and ran outside with 40 euros, my digital camera, and my wallet.

When I exited my building, an officer directed me towards the left side of the street, which fed into Plaza de España, the public square that anchors the west side of Madrid. Police trucks blocked off both sides of my street, Calle Leganitos, as officers were running into and out of buildings to evacuate occupants from the area. I walked towards the main street as another officer waved me to the right, where a crowd was standing on the side of Grand Via, another major thoroughfares that runs parallel to my street.

As I was walking towards the crowd, I began to ask the bystanders about the evacuation. A server from one of the hotels near my street told me that the police station on my street received a bomb threat from an unknown source. I stood around for ten minutes before deciding to meet up with my friends for a drink in Sol. I figured it would be a better idea to leave the area in the case something went wrong on the street. As I left, I decided to not take photographs to avoid any harassment from the police at the scene.

I met up with my friends for half an hour and decided to return to my street. As I drew near the area around my neighborhood, I noticed that cars were driving through Leganitos. I drew a sigh of relief and continued walking home. I did not notice anything that would suggest that the area could have been the scene of a terrorist attack.

Of course, who would have been the group/individual responsible for such an attack? The description from the story suggests that it could have been a cell of the ETA, the Basque separatist group that has been at war with the Spanish government since the late 1970s. The terrorist group's general modus operandi is to call warn police officials about an impending attack on a site -- perhaps the police station, in this instance -- to reduce the number of casualties. Given that French forces recently captured the ETA's military head in southern France, the terrorist group might seek to make a statement against the operation.

That said, Police forces have remained silent about the incident, leaving me to speculate about the source of the call. In the meanwhile, I am grateful for the good karma and luck that threat was a false alarm. Having suffered from attacks from the 30 year war with the ETA and the 3/11/2004 terrorist bombings by an radical Islamic terrorists, the Spanish people do not deserve another attack to claim more lives; no one does.

More personally, the experience has given me a little more insight into the lives of my Spanish friends. Although our countries -- and England, as well -- have experienced terrorist attacks from radical Islamic terrorists, I realize that they must deal with the daily reality that their country remains in a struggle with another terrorist group capable of inflicting small scale attacks at any given hour. It is a sobering revelation, certainly. But it is a crucial one to realize if I am to gain greater insight into the lives of the people who live in this country.

Views from the City: Terminal 4 at Barajas Airport

Now that I have my camera back, I will add postings that feature noteworthy architectural and cultural sites around Madrid and Spain.

Today's posting features the shots from Terminal 4 at Barajas Airport, Madrid's air hub. The terminal, which sits 10 minutes across from Terminals 1 - 3, was designed by architect Richard Rogers. In addition to the bamboo awnings, the terminal features a color coded check in and check out layout as well as an automatic luggage-sorting system, SATE, which distributes bags to and from the planes from a bomb proof bunker.

I took these photos upon my arrival to the country on Sept. 7. Enjoy!

Guitar Lessons/Photos

After nearly two months, I have finally received my canon digital camera. Expect an overhaul of previous posts with photos over the next few weeks.

After a brief hiatus, I have started taking guitar lessons with a local jazz/fusion guitarist named Chuma Segura, who I found through at Radical Music, a music store next to my apartment. As it turns out, Chuma's studio is on the north side of the Cervantes Monument/Plaza de Espana, a good five minute walk from my piso, which sits on the southern edge of the public square. Chuma proved to be a fantastic guitar teacher, which is a major relief for me; research, exercise, and socializing can only sustain a person for so long.

After the lesson, Chuma invited me to see his band, the Chuma Seruma Hot Band, that Friday at Moe, a local jazz club located in the far northern edge of central Madrid. The ambiance of the venue was ideal; low lit lights, exposed stone walls, a mellow crowd, and a few whisps of smoke for added atmosphere. In this setting, Chuma's five piece band - guitar, sax, congas, bass, and drums - played a furious and funky set of blues/flunk inflected jazz rock, which reflects the influences of John McLaughlin, Santana, Stevie Ray Vaughan, George Benson, and John Scofield, among others. Truly riveting.

Here are some photos from the show:


For more information on Chuma's music, check out his website: www.chumasegura.com

Commentary: Si, Podemos

As the dust settles and the election post-mortems grow repetitive, I want to us a post to give a recount of my election night before wrapping up with some thoughts on last Tuesday’s events.

As I noted in my previous post, I had been invited to two election night events: an official American Embassy party at La Casa de America, a non-profit focusing on promoting the culture of the Americas in Spain and a Democrats Abroad Party across the street at El Circulo de Bella Artes, a major arts organization and museum. Both events proved to be swanky affairs for a historic night.

The first party, which was hosted by the American Ambassador, Eduardo Aguirre, was an invitation only event for friends of the embassy: embassy employees, government officials, foreign dignitaries, local politicians, the media, and a few wayward Fulbrighters. (Oddly, the researchers needed to pick up the invitations from the Fulbright office while the teaching assistants’ names were forwarded to the organization’s VIP list). Each Fulbrighter was permitted to bring a guest, so I decided to take one of my roommates, Jeanne, an enthusiastic French Obama supporter, to the party.

The party site was located right at one of the main intersections of Madrid’s city center, Paseo del Prado y Calle Alcala, with an entrance on one of the side streets that led to the back of the building; several of the Fulbrighters decided to make this area the meeting point for the group attending the event. After entering a security check-point, we entered a dimmed atrium where event staffers where handing out gift bags with campaign buttons from both political parties, a free drink/meal ticket, masks of each of the presidential and vice-presidential candidates, and a pin with an interlocked set of American and Spanish flags.

We eventually walked through the atrium to the building’s auditorium, which was replete with guests and representatives from the city and country’s media outlets. As we walked through the room, I noticed that most of the well-heeled guests were standing around tables chatting about various topics as cameramen and women, photographers, reporters, and sound technicians interviewed partygoers about the night’s events.


More noticeably, group after group of party-goers were taking photos of their friends with the masks; Sarah Palin masks proved to be a popular pick with the men at the party.


The party also featured a presidential trivia contest between pairs of individuals who volunteered to participate in the game. The prize? A warm, patriotic six pack of Bud Light. Naturally, the Fulbrighters participated in two rounds of the game to win free beers for the group. What else would we drink on a historic night for America?


The presence of free alcohol did not help our group’s standing among the American dignitaries at the event. At the tail end of the final trivia challenge, one of the Fulbrighters suggested that the group pose for a photo in front of the ‘La Embajada de Los Estados Unidos de America’ backdrop at the front of the auditorium. As we posed for a few photos, a cameraman ran up to the stage, which prompted us to brazenly declare our support for Barack Obama to a crowd that was preparing to listen to the American Ambassador’s remark for the evening.

Yes, we cut off the American Ambassador at the very start of his speech. After clearing his throat, the Ambassador sternly said that the Fulbrighters “youthful enthusiasm did not reveal their enthusiasm for any particular candidate.” We immediately grew silent and haphazardly left the stage for the coatroom to leave the party with our egos somewhat intact.

Eduargo Aguirre, the current American Ambassador to Spain

The group subsequently moved over to the Democrat’s Abroad party at 1:30 to catch the results live on CNN. While I imagined the party would be a small gathering of Democrats in a bar, the organization put on a significantly more grandiose event. Hundred of Democrat supporters were floating in and out of each of the museum’s four floors as cameras flashed a live CNN feed on large projection screens hoisted above every room.

As we set up our home base on the top floor of the building, various members of our group were making runs for 14 Euro bottles of Champagne for the result announcements. As Wolfe Blitzer announced each major victory for the Obama Campaign: Pennsylvania, Ohio, Florida, and Virginia, we – and the rest of the party – began consuming bottle after bottle of champagne, growing giddier by the moment.

At this point, Obama had 230 votes after conquering McCain in Virginia; the reality was setting in among the party goers that the race would be over when the polls closed on the West Coast at 4 AM. The bartenders were aware of this fact: all of the Champagne was sold out as people were running back to the video room with the remaining bottles for the next exit poll announcements.

As the groups shared plastic flutes and drinks, the entire crowd’s gaze remained fixed on the screen began to direct itself completely on the screen at 3:55. As CNN’s poll closing ticker for the nation’s west coast states, the crowd began to roar 5… 4… 3… 2… 1, with an intensity that no new year’s party could ever match. The next moment Blitzer announced Obama’s victory in the 2008 election. Then one loud cheer followed by another one and another one…

It is difficult for me to completely describe the emotions and reactions of the party goers in that room at that particular time; people cried, hugged, laughed, cheered, toasted to victory. McCain’s speech was greeted with applause. Obama’s speech, while cut off for three previous minutes, was received with intense joy from everyone in the room. I spent the entire hour crying and hugging my friends, who stood in awe in front of the screen.

In the midst of it all, I called my parents, who were eating dinner in the living room as they prepared for a long night in front of the television. I could barely hear their joyful reactions to Obama’s victory as I screamed out “el gano” over and over again. Given that I was using a prepaid phone, I could not talk to them for more than a minute. But I appreciated the opportunity to hear my family’s excitement while kneeling on the ground of a room strewn with champagne corks and dancing feet.

The party went strong until 6 AM, when the hosts cut off the feed and closed the bar, prompting a large number of tired and happy Obama supporters to walk outside to the empty streets of Madrid.

After the party, we sang a drunken, off key rendition of the Star Spangled Banner while walking to Sol to find a bar or coffee shop serving hot chocolate and churros. Our group managed to find one that was open 24 hours; the diners, mainly older Spanish men, gave us a puzzled look before noticing our Obama buttons and nodding in silent agreement. Our meal was quick, as some of the Fulbrighters needed to show up to their teaching positions in two hours. So we left and parted ways as the sun was beginning to break through a grey and chilly fall morning.

I returned home at 8 AM to find one of my French roommates awake; she was preparing to return to France to visit her ailing grandfather. She hugged me the moment she saw me and told me that her grandmother, who was a staunch Obama supporter, called her at 4 am to tell her the good news while crying with joy. Clearly you know you witnessed global history when your roommate’s grandmother is following an American election in the middle of the night. That reality set the final elegiac tone for the night as I prepared to go to sleep after spending nearly 10 hours celebrating history with my friends.

As I recall this night, I wish Canon had repaired my camera in time for the election. (Cruelly, Canon shipped out my camera to my piso today, a week after the election) Perhaps the effort to videotape the event would have been a wonderful keepsake for future events when I wanted to show friends and family the festivities from November 4, 2008. Even so, I feel that no amount of photography or videos could capture the energy and emotion of that night; I am sure the photographers at Grant Park felt the same way.

More importantly, no visual record of the night could relay the manner in which I felt connected to my country and the world. Perhaps I would have been able to demonstrate how ex pats and foreigners were excited to see a major milestone in the development of the American democratic project or captured the moment when I shared my joy with my family in Pasadena. Given the power of a collective decision to change the history of a nation and engage the hopes and dreams of its citizens and friends abroad, however, the night’s events extended beyond my capacity to completely capture that moment in time.

Having finished my elaborate justification for my failure to take my own photographs at an amazing party, I can say that November 4th, 2008 will remain as one of the greatest moments in my life, and, more importantly, a momentous occasion in the history of the United States.

Commentary: Election Night 2008

Today is November 4th, election day. Many of you have asked about my plans in Madrid, so I’ll give a brief run down. The American Ambassador to Spain has invited all the Fulbrighters to an election day party at La Casa de America, an organization dedicated to promoting new world culture in Madrid. I will attend the party with the rest of the Fulbrighters before walking across the street to a party at El Circulo de Las Bellas Artes hosted by Democrats Abroad’s chapter in Madrid. Given that we will not hear about the results until 9 AM or so, it will clearly be a long, long night for the Obama supporters in the Fulbright cohort. Expect to see a post with pictures from the party sometime this week.

Parties aside, here are some of my own personal thoughts on my experience as an ex-pat watching the elections from Spain.

I have mixed feelings about living abroad during such a historical campaign in the States. Having lived in DC for two years, I was privy to a culture consumed by the campaign; a day did not pass without hearing the latest news about the Democratic primaries from hearsay from political insiders. More importantly, I would discuss the campaign with my friends and family over the phone on heard about my friend’s opinions – over the phone – on the election, keeping me grounded in the reality that exists beyond the Beltway.

Having lived in Spain for two months during the final stretch of the campaign, I can say that I feel somewhat detached from the political process. I sent in my absentee ballot, follow the news closely, and keep up with my favorite blogs. I talk with my friends and family over Gchat, AIM, and Skype. I recognize, however, that I will not see a presidential inauguration in DC or the long lines of enthusiastic voters ready to cast their lot in the election. It is very disappointing reality to tackle on this day.

That said, I have found other ways to remain engaged in this campaign. As much as people deride European’s support for Obama, I have found my European friend’s enthusiasm for a major change in the personality and policies of an Obama presidency has helped me understand the global dimensions of the campaign. As the cliché goes, it is not merely a historical election for the United States. Rather it is a campaign that has people from all walks of life in Spain and Europe on edge about the possibility of change in the States.

One small example.

I was a closeted Obama supporter for Halloween. Red tie, red striped button up shirt, khakis, moccasins, and a navy blazer adorned with a make shift McSame/Palin button. I looked like a regular in the Georgetown social scene. I affixed two Obama buttons underneath my blazer to shock and awe my friends with my ‘secret’ support for ‘that one.’

Although the costume received a lukewarm reception from the Americans, it was a big hit with the Europeans who attended a Halloween/Birthday celebration for my roommate, David. Whenever I flashed the buttons, the crowd would chant ‘yes we can’ and laugh at my button. Clearly they agreed with my evaluation of McCain’s support for Bush’s policies from the last eight years.

The positive reaction did not end at the party. On the way to a Fulbright get together, a young woman dressed as a hippie sitting across from me on the subway noticed the ‘button’ and started to laugh. I showed her the buttons and the individuals around her – a good half of the car, more of less – began chanting ‘yes we can.’ When I left the car, she asked me if I had voted. I smiled and replied ‘yes,’ an answer that brought an earnest smile to her face.

Aside from demonstrating the Obama campaign’s brilliant marketing scheme, the fact that these young people from Europe know the simplest details of this election reflects their own personal stake in the election. Clearly these desires meet ridicule and derision from certain conservatives who feel Europeans’ near unanimous support for Obama reflects Anti-American and Anti-Bush sentiments. It is a dangerously limited notion to purport to the American public, in my opinion.

These Spaniards do not support Obama out of spite for the United States. To the contrary, these individuals support Obama because they want to see a new era of international relations. More importantly, they support Obama because they feel his approach to government would promote the interests of the American people. Many Conservatives will disagree with this argument, obviously. But I find that European’s personal stake in the election reflects a deep concern about the fate of the nation and its people.

As I said before, I may not be in line waiting to cast my vote; I may not be in a bar with my friends waiting for results; and I may not be in Washington to see the Inauguration of the next president. Witnessing this support for the American people, however, has helped me feel a little more connected to the election. When one is around people who want to see his country succeed, it is hard to feel alienated from the process of change that marks each aspect of this election. Regardless of the election results, I am grateful for the opportunity to witness this support for the future of the United States; it will truly be an amazing night.

Now, let's see if a "Besame, yo vote para Obama" button will receive a positive response from the Spanish girls at these parties.

Julia's Trip Part 2: The Tale of Two Cities; Toledo

In addition to visiting the museums and several sites throughout the city such as the Parque de Retiro, El Templo de Debod, and La Plaza Mayor, Julia and I used Renfe’s high speed AVE trains to travel to the historical cities of Segovia and Toledo, which sit which 30 minutes north and south of Madrid, respectively.

Our first excursion was to Toledo, in the autonomous region of Castilla-La Mancha.

Entrance to the Old City

Toledo’s Old City, which sits atop of a mountain, was a charming maze of streets that wound around historical sites that reflected the dynamic culture of ‘la convivencia.’ Since the city’s visitor center charged three euros for a map, we eschewed the guide and wandered around the city, getting lost on a semi-frequent basis. Although we did not visit the city’s library, which was an Roman Palace and an Alcazar in the 15th century, or its Cathedral, which houses works by El Greco, Velazquez, and Raphael, our methodology proved to work well in discovering smaller finds around the city.


Three particular locations come to mind.

First, the city’s Museo de Santa Cruz de Toledo featured an contemporary art exhibit of Simeon Saiz Ruiz’s work titled J’est un Je. The exhibit was a collection of paintings that enlarge and distort the pixels of photos and video screen shots of victims of violence from the civil conflicts in the Balkans during the mid to late 1990s. Although the paintings initially overwhelm the viewer with a kaleidoscope of muted colors, one begins to realize the subjects of the photographs as the pixels for the outlines form the contours of victims lying in stretchers.

Seeing that the trials of the war criminals responsible for these crimes against humanity revolved around attempts to diminish and distort the scope of suffering of the victims captured in these photos, it seems appropriate that an artist would use a visual medium to demonstrate how the violence and suffering of the individuals in the photos persist even in blatant efforts to distort the image in the eyes of the viewers, and, by extension, international human rights law.

Not all the finds were depressing, however. Julia, who wanted to purchase marzipans for her family, happened across a convent with a small, modest storefront that sold artisan baked good and sweets baked at the nunnery itself. The area consisted of a counter, which was attended by a nun, a few shelves of ‘pastas,’ small pastries, lining the walls behind the counter, and a display case of other baked goods that stood against the wall in the customer’s area.

As it turns out, the bakery sold marzipans at very reasonable prices, giving Julia an opportunity to purchase a few boxes. Unfortunately, I did not ask the nun whether the sales fund livelihood of the women at the convent while Julia was buying the sweets. My guess would be yes, given that Trappist monks in Belgium have brewed and sold beer for centuries to maintain their livelihoods.

Finally, the city’s location on the top of a mountain hill provided a lovely view of the area around Toledo, Castilla-La Mancha. The weather was perfect: clear blue skies, large nebulous clouds, and large open plains reminiscent of the Midwest and California’s central valley. When one gazes out at the open plains of La Mancha, it becomes clear why Miguel Cervantez chose this area as Don Quixote’s home. Aside from Toledo, La Mancha is akin to Kansas in the Spanish mind. Consequently, a story about an idealist from a small town only reinforces the novel’s humor and pathos.


My next post on the trip will discuss my day trip with Julia to Segovia, which featured amazing Roman and Medival sights as well as one of the most impressive modern art exhibits in Spain.

A Few Historical Facts about Toledo

After a period of domination by the Romans and the Visigoths, Toledo flourished under the rule of the Caliphate of Cordoba, which conquered and controlled Spain during the 8th and 9th centuries. This period marked the age of ‘la convivencia,’ where the city’s Jewish, Muslim, and Christian populations were equal participants in a lively civil society. This period came to an end during the Reconquista and Inquisition, which expelled the cities’ Jewish and Muslim populations in 1492 and 1502, respectively. The city experienced a cultural revival under the rule of Alphonso the X in the 15th century, however. Incidentally, El Greco moved to Toledo in 1577 and resided in the city until his death in 1614.

Julia's Trip Part 1: Art Museums

As I noted last week, I’ve been very busy with my life; let me bring you up to speed on a few observations and adventures from the last few weeks. My wonderful friend Julia visited me from Washington, DC; the visit was her first time in Spain. It was also my first time playing tour guide in the country, which provided an excellent cover to visit various sites and cities in and around Madrid.

In particular, Julia and I visited the city’s “art walk,” El Paseo de Prado, which features three world renown museums: Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofia, Museo Nacional Del Prado, and the Museo-Thyssen Bornemisza. Although we did not visit the Thyssen, we did tour the Prado and the Reina Sofia on two separate occasions.

The Prado’s collections feature some of the most important works by Spanish and European artists from the 12th to the 18th century. Among the artists, one will find works such as el Greco’s “El Caballero de la Mano en El Pecho” and “La Adoracion de Los Pastores,” Velazquez’s “Las Menaninas,” and Goya’s La Maja Desnuda,” “El 3 de Mayo de 1808 en Madrid” and “Las Pinturas Negras,” a series of dark, existential paintings which the artist painted after he went deaf.

While Julia and I toured the room containing ‘Las Pinturas Negras,” an art professor was giving a lecture on the importance of these paintings in the development of modern art. As she noted, Goya’s paintings reflected individual’s desperate efforts to find spiritual, intellectual, and emotional meaning in a development. In this manner, the artist’s work was a harbinger of the existentialist and postmodern philosophies that would dominate the works of artists, authors, musicians, and philosophers in post World War II Europe. Although I am certainly not an art critic, the artist’s emphasis on the alienation and isolation of its subjects coupled with the use of dark hues created a set of images that viciously disrupted the Museum’s emphasis on historical and religious works of other European artists.

Interesting note: Goya kept the series in the basement of his house; the Prado’s artistic directors followed suit and made the collection the centerpiece of Planta -1, the Museum’s subterranean floor. Given the series’ subject matter, the Museum’s logistical decision seems appropriate.

We also had an opportunity to visit the Reina Sofia, which focuses on 20th century artists. The Museum, which was an 18th century hospital, splits the century into two floors. The Reina Sofia’s second floor focuses on Spanish artists such Picasso, Dali, and Miro while the museum’s fourth floor features work of artists from the latter half of the century such as Rothko, Tapies, Bacon, and Antonio Lopez’s “A Man and a Woman,” which features a spectacular panoramic view of Madrid. The third floor functions as a storage space for the museum’s permanent collection.

The Museum’s centerpiece is Picasso’s iconic “Guernica,” which violently condemns the city’s bombing at the hand of Franco’s fascist forces during the Spanish Civil War; more generally, the piece protests the violence and indiscriminate suffering that mark war itself. As the story goes, A Nazi officer walked up to Picasso during the painting’s initial showing at the 1937 International Exposition in Paris and asked him, “did you make this?” Dali replied, “No, you did.”

The Reina Sofia also featured a temporary exhibit of the works of Nancy Spero, an American artist and feminist who used savagely abstract images of bombs and distorted faces of the dead to protest the Vietnam War and Operation Iraqi Freedom. The exhibit also featured recent work such as “The First Language” and “Let the Priests Tremble” uses icons of women dancing and the testimonials of women who survived torture at the hand of right wing and military dictatorships in Central and South America to reflect the violent limitations and ecstatic possibilities that exist in the lives of women. The exhibit’s title, “Disidanzas,” is a playful reference to the socio-political subtext and images of women in these paintings.