Art from a Fractured Past brings to light the wide-ranging possibilities of artistic language and the images to which people who lived through political violence in Peru have turned. While the realms of politics and culture have long intersected in Andean societies, the excruciating events and traumatic pain experienced in the 1980s and early 1990s have given the production of art new relevance. By promoting multiple memories and meanings and by breaking silences, works of art can challenge old frameworks and destabilise dominant narratives that marginalise the experiences of those who have suffered most. In her introduction, historian Cynthia Milton sketches out the book's central argument: that artistic forms of expression carry the potential for opening up communication and drawing a broader swath of society toward the unknown and into accepting different representations of Peru's violent past. Compiled on the eve of the 10-year anniversary of the publication of Peru's Truth and Reconciliation Commission's Final Report (2003), the book endeavours, through images and text examples of visual representation, storytelling and performance, ‘to trace some of the ways Peruvians utilize artistic means to describe their past, to understand, and, in some sense, to bring about alternative justice, social repair, and a historical account’ (p. 16).
The first section, on visual representation, focuses on testimonial art. Milton begins by discussing the imagery of paintings submitted to art contests sponsored by NGOs as a lead-up to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. These works, she finds, draw on a pool of common referents to rescue experiences, and bear witness, in the sense of testimonio, to denounce injustices. Depicted as victims of state repression, community members are presented as worthy of sympathy, recognition – and reparations. In a second chapter, drawings and testimonies from the community of Chungui, Ayacucho, are reproduced from a book published in 2005 by anthropologist/artist Edilberto Jiménez. This collaborative grassroots testimonial dates back to the 1990s, but sadly no later reflections by Jiménez are included, even though he continues to work on memory in Ayacucho. The third chapter by anthropologist María Eugenia Ulfe focuses on retablos, a fluid art form developed by Ayacuchano artists who have used painted figures and emblematic scenes to record how violence was experienced and provide social commentary.
The second section, on telling stories, begins with an analysis by literary critic Víctor Vich of a prize-winning novel, La hora azul, by Alonso Cueto (Editorial Peisa/Anagrama, 2005). Going beyond criticism of the armed forces, the novel explores how the effects of political violence are imagined by Limeño society and tackles the intensely tricky theme of guilt. This is followed by an extract from a graphic novel (by Rossell, Villar and Cossio) that mixes cartoons and images from many sources to recount key events from the early years of the armed conflict. Finally, there is a transcription/translation of a lengthy interview in which historian Ponciano del Pino prompts film-maker Palito Ortega Matute, both Ayacuchanos, to reflect on local cinema in the context of political violence. This chapter is central to the book. It provides insights into the vibrancy of local cinema during the war years as well as the controversies over the Truth Commission's process voiced in Ayacucho. Its key message is that film-making in the locality had been immensely popular, not least because it gave those acting in and watching local films a chance to see themselves as protagonists who made up part of the story and who, at critical moments, could through their actions triumph over fear.
In the third section, the politicisation of representation comes to the fore in three insightful studies of performance. Sociologist Ricardo Caro documents the continually shifting interpretations of the past found in a small town in Ayacucho department. There, commemorative re-enactments of a particular violent encounter have become a new battleground, with some memories censured while others are promoted, and where local actors previously hailed as heroes are re-labelled victims. The following study by anthropologist Cynthia Garza examines the representational universe of a well-known theatre group, Grupo Cultural Yuyachkani. Through performance, Yuyachkani has attempted to call on collective social memory and in recent years has made the search for the absent, disappeared body, both individual and collective, a central theme. Finally, ethnomusicologist Jonathan Ritter traces in detail the way a particular musical genre, pumpín, popular throughout rural Ayacucho, has adapted to political contexts. Performance can foreground a well-established tradition of testimonial song, but these songs in the past have also been a vehicle for critique and protest, including the celebration of revolutionary Maoism. Rounding off the collection is an eloquent afterword by Steve Stern in which he places the case studies within a broader discussion of ‘the artist's truth’.
This book addresses a timely and pertinent theme. Through the order of presentation, we get a sense of unfolding. The book starts with earlier art forms where emphasis was given to creating the ‘acceptable’ victim, at the cost of brushing aside internal community disputes, previous protest and all connections with the Shining Path. In the following sections, we move on to the potentials offered by storytelling and performance to reflect on the dilemmas provoked by the politicised representation and dualistic categorisation that continue to entrap post-conflict societies: victim/protagonist, insider/outsider, repair/reconciliation, testimonial/protest. The overall impression given is that Andean populations remain under suspicion and scrutiny and that artistic expression remains vital in struggles for citizenship and memory in contemporary Peru. The diversity of the art forms and backgrounds of the contributors is the book's clear strength, although this also leads to unevenness which sometimes distracts. Overall, the book complements the brilliant in-depth study of Sarhua by Olga González (Unveiling Secrets of War in the Peruvian Andes, University of Chicago Press, 2011), in which painted boards play a central part.
