“In my memories, I know that I saw on TV the faces of a group of hysterical women. I was still in elementary school. They were mothers from somewhere in northern Mexico. They were choking on words as they sobbed because their daughters disappeared. They were kidnapped and murdered. Those girls were lured by advertisements in the newspapers and on their city streets looking for young, thin, tall, and beautiful women. They all became a catalogue of necrophiliac beauty. Offered to be harassed, humiliated, and raped even after their deaths. While they were recorded on home videos by nationals or foreigners, who chose their victims by a photo in a catalogue and paid their captors large sums to carry out their most repulsive desires.”
In a world that struggles to let fragility and poetry die, The Witch Stage is presented as a thermometer of social decomposition, ironises some principles of psychoanalysis that Sigmund Freud called “stages or faces” within his theory of psychosexual development which in turn mixed with conspiracy theories, social denunciations, thoughts, prejudices, the misogynistic questioning of the notions and symbols of witchcraft, criminology, traditions, punishments, uses and customs, pretending a synchronous representation of a global feminism that touches different geographical areas.
Crossing the Mexican, Spanish, French, Italian and Japanese imaginary, I allow myself to explore visual similarities of a story so represented that it seems forbidden. As a pretext to speak of the prevailing unwritten right to commit violence against women and the feminine. I’m leaving crumbs of non-textual cases of territories and cultures, with no apparent connection beyond their exacerbated telluric belly, which refer me to Derrida’s seismic lexicon in which I remember emphasising that “a tremor can be the result of something that It has affected you or the tremor without apparent explanation can also affect you.”