The Bogotá Short Film Festival – BOGOSHORTS – is strengthening its international footprint at the 79th Cannes Film Festival with a major presence at the Short Film Corner | Rendez-vous Industry, positioning Colombian and regional filmmakers before one of the world’s most influential film markets.

From May 13 to 24, this leading platforms for Latin America’s short films will present two curated collections of short films at Cannes while deepening industry ties through networking events, producer exchanges and strategic collaborations aimed at increasing international visibility for emerging Latin American talent.

The initiative marks the second consecutive year that the BOGOSHORTS universe has secured a prominent place within Cannes’ Cinema de Demain section, the festival’s platform dedicated to discovering the next generation of filmmakers.

This year, BOGOSHORTS will showcase 10 short films divided into two programs: BOGOSHORTS World Tour – Winners Colombia and BOGOSHORTS World Tour – Latin American Talents. The films will be available to accredited industry professionals through the Short Film Corner space within the Marché du Film and on Cinando, the industry networking platform used by festival programmers, producers, critics and institutional representatives.

The Colombian selection includes five award-winning films from the festival’s 23rd edition: Agachar el rostro, directed by Camilo Medina Noy; Un aparato para detectar fantasmas, by Mauricio Maldonado; Malas posturas, directed by Juan Pablo Castro; Mi viche todo el día, by Juan Camilo Moreno; and Luz de luna, directed by Claudia Alejandra Rivera Guarnizo.

The Latin American showcase brings together a new generation of filmmakers from across the region, including Uruguay’s stop-motion short Lodo, Mexico-Cuba co-production Cicatriz de fe, Mexican production Carne, Colombian short La ley de las acciones, and Chilean production Petra y el sol.

A delegation of 17 filmmakers and producers connected to these projects will attend Cannes in person, participating in a packed agenda of panels, workshops, masterclasses, project presentations and networking sessions.

For BOGOSHORTS founder and director Jaime E. Manrique, the presence at Cannes reflects a broader mission to ensure short films from Colombia and Latin America gain stronger access to international markets.

“Ensuring that Colombian and Latin American short film talent has a stronger presence and greater opportunities for international projection and connection is one of BOGOSHORTS’ core missions,” Manrique said in a statement.

“Thanks to the agreement with the Short Film Corner | Rendez-vous Industry at the Cannes Film Festival and the articulation with our film market, this goal is not only possible, but strengthened for the second consecutive year with the participation of a young Colombian producer in the New Producers Room.”

That producer is Melisa Zapata Montoya, who stands out as the only Latin American participant selected for the 2026 edition of the New Producers Room, a Cannes initiative that supports 10 promising short film producers from around the world.

Created in 2022, the New Producers Room is designed for producers who have already completed at least two short films and are seeking international co-production opportunities. The program combines online sessions with presentations in Cannes and facilitates meetings with potential collaborators, investors and creative partners.

Zapata, recognized for projects such as Menguante (2017), Paloquemao (2020) and the feature project Pétalos de sangre (2027), joins the group through BOGOSHORTS’ recommendation, reinforcing the festival’s role as a bridge between Colombian talent and the global industry.

As part of its collaboration with Cannes, BOGOSHORTS will also select one of the 10 New Producers Room participants to attend the next edition of the BFM — BOGOSHORTS Film Market in Bogotá this December.

The selected producer will receive a tailored industry agenda and enter the BFM incubator, designed to strengthen project development and long-term professional growth. Manrique will make the selection directly in Cannes after reviewing the participating projects.

The BFM, now preparing for its 10th edition, has become one of Colombia’s most important spaces for short film development and international co-production, serving as a platform for emerging filmmakers seeking access to wider distribution networks.

Beyond screenings and business meetings, BOGOSHORTS will host a reception on May 19 at Colombia’s national stand in Cannes with support from Proimágenes Colombia. The event will bring together Latin American filmmakers, producers and institutional allies as part of its strategy to consolidate international partnerships and present future global calls for participation.

The organization will also sponsor the closing cocktail of the New Producers Room, further increasing its visibility within Cannes’ professional circuit.

The Latin American talents collection was supported by Chile’s Cortos en Grande Festival and Uruguay’s Festival del Nuevo Cine – Detour, underscoring the regional collaboration behind the initiative.

For BOGOSHORTS, the growing presence at Cannes is part of a long-term internationalization strategy that extends beyond festival screenings.

It is an effort to position short film not as a stepping stone to feature filmmaking, but as a vital creative and industrial format in its own right – one capable of opening doors for a new generation of Latin American storytellers with many of the world’s leading industry professionals.

Under a mirage of glowing escalators inside Bogotá’s Ágora Convention Center, the catwalks of Bogotá Fashion Week opened Tuesday with more than fabrics and silhouettes on display. Behind the runway lights lies a larger ambition: to turn Colombia’s capital into a regional fashion export hub and bring designers from Bogotá’s workshops and popular commercial districts onto the global stage.

Now in its ninth edition, Bogotá Fashion Week (BFW), led by the Cámara de Comercio de Bogotá, has become the city’s main commercial and promotional platform for fashion, bringing together 145 brands, 28 runway shows, more than 80 international buyers and 755 business meetings aimed at strengthening Colombia’s presence in international markets.

For Ovidio Claros Polanco, president of the chamber, the event is no longer simply about showcasing collections, but about transforming fashion into a driver of economic growth and international competitiveness.

“In Bogotá, the fashion sector represents 33% of the city’s economic activity and brings together approximately 35,000 active companies, the majority of them microenterprises,” Claros said. He added that between 220,000 and 250,000 people are directly linked to the industry, with its impact extending into tourism, hotels, gastronomy and transportation.

The strategy, he said, is to move beyond the traditional notion of fashion as an exclusive industry and instead position it as an economic ecosystem capable of generating employment and export opportunities across all levels of the city.

That vision is particularly visible through [PUENTE] Internacional, a program created by the chamber to connect entrepreneurs from Bogotá’s traditional commercial districts such as San Victorino and Restrepo with major global fashion circuits including New York, Madrid, Dubai and Paris.

This year, eight Bogotá-based brands — Alanna, A Modo Mio, C’emadier, Más Cincuenta y Siete by Love Me Jeans, Lorant & Co, Lyenzo, Liza Herrera and Kernel Leather — were selected to present their autumn-winter collections during Fashion Designers of Latin America (FDLA) at New York Fashion Week in February.

The initiative marked one of the strongest international pushes yet for Bogotá’s so-called “popular fashion” sector, traditionally associated with local manufacturing districts rather than luxury runways.

“We are committed to the internationalization of Bogotá’s popular fashion because it is a powerful vehicle for economic growth and job creation,” Claros said. “We want the best of Bogotá’s design talent to arrive in the global capitals of fashion stepping forward with strength.”

The selection process involved curators and industry figures including Albania Rosario, founder of FDLA, José Forteza, former senior editor of Vogue México, Colombian designer Jorge Duque and stylist Estefanía Turbay.

For Albania Rosario, the initiative reflects the growing relevance of Latin American fashion beyond its domestic markets.

“Each of these brands represents not only the excellence of Bogotá’s design, but also the resilient and visionary spirit of our creative community,” Rosario said. “It is a reminder of the transformative power of Latin American fashion on the global stage.”

The international agenda continues well beyond Bogotá Fashion Week. Following the local runway events this week, [PUENTE] designers are scheduled to participate in Pasarela Madrid later in May, followed by Dubai Fashion Week in September, New York Fashion Week’s spring-summer season, and Paris Fashion Week later that month.

Inside Ágora, the business focus is equally visible. Alongside runway presentations from designers such as Kika Vargas, Francesca Miranda and Alejandro Crocker, the event hosts wholesale meetings between Colombian brands and international buyers seeking new suppliers and partnerships.

A multi-brand retail space open to the public and a series of 24 industry talks with more than 60 speakers also seek to bridge the gap between creative design and commercial scalability.

For organizers, integrating districts like San Victorino and Restrepo into this model is essential. Rather than separating emerging luxury labels from mass-market producers, the chamber is pushing for a unified ecosystem where independent designers, small workshops and large buyers operate within the same commercial conversation.

“There is a need to remove the idea that fashion belongs to only a few people,” Claros said. “This belongs to everyone. Countries change through actions like these.”

As Bogotá Fashion Week expands its global ambitions, the challenge will be whether Colombian brands can translate visibility into long-term exports and sustained international demand.

For now, however, the city is betting that fashion — from the ateliers of Chapinero to the workshops of San Victorino — can become one of Bogotá’s strongest international calling cards.

The departure of former Vice President Germán Vargas Lleras’s coffin from Bogotá’s Palacio de San Carlos on Monday morning blended state mourning with unmistakable political symbolism, as Colombia’s political elite gathered to bid farewell to one of the country’s most influential figures.

His daughter, Clemencia Vargas Umaña, attended the ceremony accompanied by her father’s two French bulldogs – Toño and Henry –  adding a deeply personal note to the solemn proceedings before the main funeral mass at 11:00 a.m. inside Bogotá’s Primatial Cathedral of Bogotá. The service marked the conclusion of three days in which the Foreign Ministry headquarters became the center of national political attention.

Vice President Francia Márquez represented the national government in the absence of President Gustavo Petro and delivered one of the most emotional moments of the day when she embraced Clemencia Vargas before the ceremony. Earlier, Márquez had publicly offered condolences to the family, praising Vargas Lleras’ democratic legacy and saying his “democratic work will be remembered.”

The wake drew figures from across Colombia’s political spectrum, reflecting Vargas Lleras’ decades-long influence. Former presidents Juan Manuel Santos, with whom Vargas Lleras served as vice president, Ernesto Samper, and Iván Duque were present, along with senator Paloma Valencia and former president Álvaro Uribe Vélez, whose attendance underscored the respect afforded to Vargas Lleras despite years of sharp public disputes between the two men.

Vargas Lleras died Friday in Bogotá after a prolonged battle with cancer. He was 64. His death ends a political career spanning more than three decades as senator, minister, vice president, and two-time presidential candidate.

Born in Bogotá on February 19, 1962, Vargas Lleras came from one of Colombia’s most prominent political dynasties. His grandfather, former President Carlos Lleras Restrepo, was a leading figure of the Liberal Party.

He built his own career as a city councilman, congressman, minister, and ultimately leader of the Cambio Radical party. His first presidential run came in 2010, where he finished third with nearly 1.5 million votes. Though unsuccessful, the campaign positioned him as a national force.

President Santos later appointed him to his cabinet, and in 2014 selected him as his running mate for reelection. The pair won in the runoff, and Vargas Lleras assumed office as vice president on August 7 that year.

He ran again for president in 2018 under the “Mejor Vargas Lleras” coalition, focusing on infrastructure, housing and administrative reform. He finished fourth in the first round and did not advance to the runoff.

Throughout his career, Vargas Lleras survived two assassination attempts and weathered political scandals, including accusations linked to parapolitics investigations, though he was never formally charged.

In later years, his health increasingly limited his public life. He was diagnosed with a benign meningioma in 2016 after a fainting episode, and in recent years battled cancer while largely stepping back from frontline politics.

Even as his public appearances became rare, his influence endured. Monday’s funeral made clear that, in death as in life, Germán Vargas Lleras remained a central figure in Colombia’s political history.

At Nohra Haime Gallery, in Manhattan’s white-walled Chelsea district, Cartagena-based artist Ruby Rumié is asking a deceptively simple question: How are the children?

It is not a casual greeting, nor the sentimental title of a new exhibition. Instead, it draws from the Maasai expression “Kasserian Ingera,” a phrase that measures the wellbeing of an entire community through the condition of its youngest members. If the children are well, the society is functioning; if they are not, everything else is called into question.

For Rumié, whose socially engaged practice has long examined dignity, memory and the politics of the body through installation and portrait photography, the question becomes the conceptual spine of her latest New York presentation. The exhibition, titled ¿How Are the Children?, marks a significant moment for the Cartagena-based artist, bringing her work once again into an international conversation that moves between Latin America, the Caribbean and the wider Global South.

Rather than beginning with a grand theoretical premise, the project emerged from something quieter: an old newspaper clipping documenting the disappearance of several children on a distant island. Nearly lost among family albums and forgotten papers, the fragment offered no resolution, only a trace. For Rumié, that absence became more powerful than explanation.

The result is an exhibition that does not attempt to solve a mystery but instead inhabits a state of unresolved concern. It asks viewers to remain with discomfort rather than consume a narrative neatly packaged for closure. In a cultural moment increasingly shaped by speed, certainty and spectacle, this refusal feels deliberate.

Within the work’s imagined structure, eleven children leave behind the violences of contemporary life: the pressure to perform, the normalization of fear, and the relentless demand to adapt to adult systems of productivity and control. Their destination is a volcano, a symbol that carries both danger and possibility.

Rumié anchors that image in a distinctly Colombian geography: the Totumo Mud Volcano, located between Cartagena and Barranquilla on Colombia’s Caribbean coast. Known locally as both a tourist curiosity and a place of ancestral ritual, the volcano is less about eruption than immersion. Visitors descend into a dense crater of warm mineral mud, confronting the instinctive fear of sinking—only to discover that the body floats.

This paradox sits at the heart of the exhibition and of Rumié’s photographic narratives.

Using portrait photography staged on the sandy slopes surrounding Totumo, she transforms her young subjects into something resembling living ceramics. Their bodies, coated in volcanic mud, appear sculptural and elemental – figures suspended between portrait and artifact, between childhood and myth. The mud gives them a tactile permanence, as though they have emerged from the earth itself rather than simply stood before the camera.

Here, mud is not scenic backdrop but primary material and metaphor. It is organic and mineral, medicinal and unsettling. It obscures the body while revealing something more essential beneath the surface. Covered in mud, distinctions of age, class, gender and origin begin to dissolve. The body ceases to be an object for display and returns to its simplest state: matter.

There is a quiet political force in that gesture. In a world saturated by images and increasingly hostile standards of beauty, the act of covering oneself in mud becomes a rejection of polished performance. It resists visibility as spectacle and proposes instead a form of symbolic density—one in which the body is not consumed but encountered.

The children in Rumié’s exhibition do not perform innocence. They do not dramatize suffering for the viewer’s emotional satisfaction. Instead, they surround the volcano with calm insistence, each holding a red ribbon that descends from its summit into their hands. The ribbon suggests connection rather than rescue, lineage rather than alarm. The volcano ceases to be a site of threat and becomes something closer to a shared origin: a matrix, a beginning.

That restraint is perhaps the work’s greatest strength. Rumié avoids the familiar traps of political art that over-explains its intentions or aestheticizes trauma into digestible symbolism. Instead, she builds an atmosphere of attention. The exhibition trusts silence. It asks not for interpretation alone, but for ethical presence.

This has been a defining feature of Rumié’s extensive projects. Her work often moves between installation, photography and social intervention, examining how communities remember violence and how institutions choose to see – or not – the vulnerable. Her native Cartagena, with its layered histories of colonialism, tourism and exclusion, remains both context and counterpoint.

Showing this work in New York adds another dimension. Chelsea galleries are not typically spaces associated with collective care or recetive to questions of social reparations. Yet that friction is productive. To pose “How are the children?” in the commercial heart of the international art market is to redirect attention from value to responsibility.

It is also a reminder that contemporary Latin American art is often at its most compelling when it resists exotic labels and insists on moral complexity instead. Rumié does not offer folklore, nor easy allegory. She offers a question as elusive as the landscape itself, echoing the vast and shifting terrains once depicted by the Prussian explorer Alexander von Humboldt during his travels across the continent.

And perhaps that is Rumié’s point. The exhibition offers no definitive answers, nor any final declaration of hope or despair. Instead, it leaves visitors carrying the weight of the original inquiry – returned intact, urgent and impossible to ignore, just like a volcano.

¿How Are the Children? opens on 7 May at Nohra Haime Gallery

Nohra Haime Gallery: 500A West 21st Street, New York.

Fabio Enrique Ochoa Vasco, a former insider of the defunct Medellín Cartel, and once accused by Pablo Escobar of betrayal and marked for death, has quietly returned to Colombia after serving a prison sentence in the United States, drawing renewed attention to the discreet return of aging narcotics operatives to the country.

Ochoa Vasco, known among the cartel’s henchmen as “Kiko Pobre” or “Carlos Mario,” returned to Medellín roughly two and a half months ago after completing a nine-year prison term in the United States for drug trafficking and money laundering, according to judicial sources.

Now 65, he is reportedly living in the Antioquia capital under a low profile, far from the notoriety that once surrounded his role inside the world’s most violent cocaine empire.

His return also reflects a broader trend in Colombia, where former cartel figures, paramilitary commanders and extradited traffickers are quietly re-entering civilian life after serving lengthy prison terms abroad, often without pending criminal cases at home.

Ochoa Vasco was part of the Medellín Cartel faction led by Fernando Galeano and Gerardo Moncada, two of Escobar’s most powerful associates who controlled major cocaine routes from the municipality of Itagüí.

Known respectively as “El Negro” and “Kiko,” Galeano and Moncada were once among Escobar’s closest allies, but their relationship collapsed in 1992 when Escobar accused them of hiding millions of dollars from him while he was serving his negotiated prison sentence inside La Catedral, the luxury prison he built for himself in Envigado.

Both men were tortured and murdered inside the prison on Escobar’s orders, triggering one of the most violent internal purges in the cartel’s history.

Ochoa Vasco, who had worked closely with their network, was forced into hiding as Escobar reportedly branded him a traitor and sought to have him killed.

He later aligned himself with Los Pepes — the vigilante alliance of Escobar’s most feared enemies and whose acronymn stood for “Persecuted by Pablo Escobar”.  Escobar’s relentless campaign of car bombings and assassinations contributed to the cartel boss’s downfall before he was killed by Colombian security forces in Medellín on December 3, 1993.

But the end of Escobar did not signal the end of Ochoa Vasco’s criminal career.

According to the U.S. Department of State, he had been involved in international narcotics trafficking since the early 1980s and was allegedly responsible for sending between six and eight tons of cocaine per month from Colombia to the United States.

U.S. authorities described him as the head of a drug trafficking organization that moved multi-ton shipments of cocaine by speedboats and cargo ships from Colombia to Central America for eventual distribution in the United States.

Investigators also linked him to the now-demobilized United Self-Defense Forces of Colombia, or AUC, the right-wing paramilitary organization founded by cattle ranchers in the middle Magdalena River valley, and under command of Carlos and Fidel Castaño.

In September 2004, prosecutors in the Middle District of Florida indicted Ochoa Vasco on charges of narcotics trafficking and money laundering. He also had a previous narcotics conviction in the United States and remained a fugitive on an earlier 1989 indictment from the Southern District of Florida.

He was captured in Venezuela in 2009 and extradited to the United States, where he was sentenced to nine years in prison.

With that sentence completed and no active judicial proceedings pending in Colombia, Ochoa Vasco was been able to return to Medellín without major public attention.

His case mirrors that of other former Medellín Cartel figures who have returned after decades in U.S. prisons.

Fabio Ochoa Vásquez, the youngest member of the powerful Ochoa family and one of the cartel’s best-known figures, returned to Colombia in December 2024 after serving nearly 30 years behind bars in the United States.

Now 69, he reportedly lives in Antioquia and has resumed the family’s long-standing horse breeding business.

Carlos Enrique Lehder Rivas, one of the cartel’s most eccentric members and who oversaw Pablo’s Caribbean cocaine routes, also returned to Colombia in March 2025 after serving 33 years in U.S. custody.

At 75, Lehder now moves between Bogotá and Medellín after all Colombian charges against him were closed.

One of the earliest and most infamous examples was Griselda Blanco, the so-called “Black Widow,” widely considered a pioneer of cocaine trafficking into Florida and New York during the 1970s.

After serving roughly 20 years of a U.S. sentence, she was deported to Medellín in 2004 and lived quietly there until she was shot dead by motorcycle gunmen outside a butcher shop in 2012.

The return of these figures underscores the long afterlife of Colombia’s drug wars.

Many of the men and women once at the center of cartel violence are now elderly, legally free, and living once again in the same cities where their criminal empires flourished.

For many Colombians, their quiet reintegration raises uncomfortable questions about justice, memory and how a country still marked by the legacy of narcotics violence confronts the survivors of that era.