Although her parents named her Nebraska after a radio host named Carol Nebraska, Ecuadorian visual artist and researcher Nebraska Flores Espín prefers to think that her name refers to a word of Native American origin related to water and flowers. This idea resonates with an artistic practice that, through installation, sculpture, photography, and artist’s books, explores nature, ecology, and non-human forms of life from a poetic and symbolic perspective. She is currently participating in the exhibition *Los de Aquí* at La Mar de Arte in Cartagena, Spain. We spoke with her.
From Ecuador to Spain: Building Networks Through Art
On September 16, the exhibition in which you are participating opened at La Mar de Arte in Cartagena, Spain. How did this invitation come about?
It took place as part of the guest country program, featuring Ecuador. This year, Ecuador presented a variety of offerings, including musicians, writers, food, and film. And within the visual arts, they selected certain artists who have worked directly between Europe and Ecuador. That’s how the curators of the exhibition—titled *Los de Aquí*—contacted me.
Do you currently live in Ecuador or Spain?
I lived in Madrid for two years; I was there thanks to a scholarship from the Carolina Foundation to pursue a master’s degree. This was my first direct experience with Spain, as it allowed me to connect with the country not only academically but also in a deeply creative way.
Art in Times of Uncertainty
Did you notice many differences in the way artistic practice is carried out in both countries?
I feel that, despite the great diversity of cultures and situations, there is indeed something in common, which is precisely this idea of collaboration; I’m referring to the artistic field, to collaboration, and to building that network. However, I feel that there are always many questions surrounding the current issues we’re facing and that are unfolding in different places.
How do you view this issue from Ecuador?
I think Spain also faces certain urgent challenges, just like Ecuador. I’m from Quito, where we’ve been dealing with certain emergencies that have indeed limited us in the cultural sphere. For example, there’s a law called COOTAD that it’s going to cut certain cultural resources. So, what I found a bit surprising in Spain was that it wasn’t all that different from that reality, because it seems to me that they’re cutting certain funds to academic institutions, and the ones most affected are the art departments.
And that’s a global phenomenon—it’s neither right-wing nor left-wing, right? Because Spain isn’t currently governed by the right, unlike Ecuador, for example.
Exactly. It’s not about creating one side and another. Spain faces this problem, which is no different from what we’re going through here in Ecuador, where we are, perhaps, governed by a party with certain specific positions that have limited certain things.
The State of Art in Ecuador
What do you think is the main value of art in Ecuador?
Ecuador has incredible potential. It’s not just about the Andean worldview—which is how certain South American artistic projects are often marketed—but it also encompasses more political projects that are a bit more demanding and a bit more sensitive.
The project to build a new contemporary art museum in Ecuador was recently canceled. I think the government gave in to pressure from people who said the design “wasn’t pretty.” What do you think?
It’s not about whether it’s beautiful or ugly; it’s about understanding what contribution this museum can make… I think it’s about understanding what contribution this museum can make to society and to the community. I feel that the process was conducted as transparently as possible. Whether there were vested interests on the part of the current administration or other individuals is a completely different matter. I hope that this upcoming election will be much better and will truly live up to—more than just expectations—the cultural scene and the democratization of cultural accessibility for everyone, which I believe is the most relevant aspect of the new art museum in Ecuador and the controversy surrounding it.
Visual references
Your work draws on many visual and literary references. You work not only in the visual arts—such as sculpture and installation—but also in poetry and other genres. How do you bring these pieces together without prioritizing some over others?
I think this fits in very well with an idea that really resonates with me, which is the ability to work across disciplines—that is, not to view processes as something separate from research and creation, but rather as processes that complement and reinforce one another.
You’ve mentioned that your work is shaped by the moment—that is, by ideas that are sometimes spontaneous…
I don’t feel that there is first an in-depth investigation and then the creative moment; rather, it’s something that unfolds gradually. In my case, my point of reference has always been the ability to talk about—or try to explain—what other non-human forms of writing exist. What I mean is: I feel like we live in a world that’s deeply permeated by very anthropocentric ideas and deeply internalized memories, but what if we opened ourselves up to other sensibilities?
Poetry as a Method of Work
Poetry is also part of those processes, isn’t it?
My work has always been linked to poetry, because for me, writing has been my creative process. In fact, I’ve often preferred to write, because it’s been my way of giving voice to that silent voice that I’ve struggled so much to bring out. I also feel that writing is a medium that has made me feel comfortable, since I have dyslalia and dyslexia. So for me, speaking or expressing certain words can sometimes be a bit difficult, but when it comes time to write, I feel more at ease. Through this, I’ve noticed that there are other forms of communication, such as how bees communicate, or how certain insects communicate.
Chance as a Tool
You’ve said that chance plays a role in your work. What role does it actually play in your creative process?
Yes, I feel that chance is a very humble process, because it’s always present. We’re more aware of that chance when we let it express itself. I don’t know if there’s ever a moment when I say, “Well, that’s the end of that space of chance.” I just feel that sometimes shared processes or insights come along—whether it’s a conversation with someone, something I came across on my walks, a text I read, or an idea that popped into my head. I think I ask myself a lot of questions, and that has allowed chance itself to respond and help me generate answers.
What is the most important question that making art has helped you answer?
I don’t know, it’s kind of complicated. I think there’s a question I keep asking myself over and over—one I never find an answer to and don’t want to find, and maybe I never will—which is: How would our relationships change if we learned to live together and collaborate the way other beings do? What would the world be like if we could work the way other beings have worked—because they work from a place of empathy and care for the environment? What would that be like?
Migrate to Survive
It had been a while since I’d heard someone say “nosotres”
I think there have been certain stigmas surrounding this idea of inclusion—which shouldn’t be called that, but should simply be a process in which we all feel comfortable participating. I do think it’s important, through art, to try to integrate certain bodies, certain processes, and certain memories into certain works and exhibitions.
You were also part of an exhibition called *We Are All Strangers*—how did *Zumbido*, your exhibition, fit into that?
We have a saying here: “gathering one’s footsteps.” It means gathering the lessons left behind by those who came before you, commemorating them, carrying them with you, and making them a part of yourself. Zumbido draws on this idea of migration, from a poetic perspective similar to how certain insects migrate—how dragonflies migrate, how bees migrate.
In Quito, there is a group of native bees that are practically on the verge of extinction because the urban environment lacks suitable, native gardens where these bees can live. As a result, many have had to migrate to other places in order to survive. Many of these bees are not considered subjects with rights. That’s also an issue that really weighs on me, because we continue to displace other beings that we don’t consider relevant.
Upcoming Projects
Besides Cartagena, what projects or exhibitions are coming up in the next few months?
I am participating in an artist residency at La Pajarera, which takes place in the city of Quito in collaboration with the Catholic University of Ecuador and the Parterre Gallery. It is a research residency where I hope to collaborate with the School of Biology to understand how we can explore alternative ways of coexisting based on the material and structural examples provided by these beings, and to develop my research around that theme. Next year I have an exhibition at Q Galería, alongside international artists such as Carolina Borrero from Colombia. It’s a group show that we’ve collaborated on as a collective to put together. Finally, I also have an exhibition at the Benjamín Carrión Cultural Center. It’s a solo exhibition based on my research.
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