At a time when children are increasingly indoors – absorbed by screens, separated from the street and distanced from the spontaneous rituals of neighborhood play – a new exhibition by the Banco de la República has launched at the Museo de Arte Miguel Urrutia (MAMU), and one that asks a deceptively simple question: what happened to playing outside with friends?

Having opened on April 23 at El Parqueadero and second floor of MAMU, Francis Alÿs, juegxs de niñxs 1999–2025 brings together 27 video works from the Belgian-born, Mexico-based artist’s celebrated long-running series documenting children’s games across the world.

Curated by Cuauhtémoc Medina and Virginia Roy, the exhibition proposes something more than nostalgia. It invites viewers to see play as a form of social architecture – a place where children create rules, resolve disputes and build entire worlds from whatever their environment offers.

Games, the curators suggest, are “social laboratories in miniature.”

For more than two decades, Francis Alÿs has traveled across cities, villages and conflict zones filming children at play. What began in 1999 evolved into an audiovisual archive spanning more than 50 short films across five continents, 27 of which are included in the Bogotá exhibition.

Children jump across hopscotch grids in Afghanistan, toss bones in India, spin tops in Mexico and invent rhythmic contests in narrow urban streets. One of the featured Colombian works, Trompos de semilla, Arara, Colombia, 2025, was filmed in the Amazon with support from Banco de la República’s Cultural Center in Leticia, capturing children in the Arara community playing with spinning tops made from seeds.

The games are simple, but the implications are not.

On the screen there are adults directing the action, no digital interfaces, no organized sports structures. Instead, children improvise with what is at hand – sticks, stones, crates, seeds, chalk, bottle caps – creating systems of cooperation and competition, rules and rebellion.

That act of invention lies at the center of Alÿs’s fascination.

Born in Belgium in 1959, Alÿs grew up with the image of Children’s Games (1560), the iconic painting by Pieter Bruegel the Elder depicting hundreds of children absorbed in play across a town square. According to the exhibition guide, the work became a lifelong reference point—an early visual map of how play reveals the structure of society itself.

Alÿs studied architecture at the Istituto Universitario di Architettura di Venezia before moving to Mexico in 1986 as part of an aid project to help install aqueducts in Oaxaca. He later settled in Mexico City’s historic center, where he developed the poetic and political language that would define his career.

His practice – spanning video, painting, installation and performance – often addresses borders, migration, urban fragility and the absurd mechanics of social order. Power dynamics, the commercialization of public space and the erosion of civic community remain central artistic preoccupations.

In Juegxs de niñxs those themes emerge quietly but powerfully.

Alÿs is not merely documenting childhood. He is observing how public life functions – and how children, often without adult mediation, rehearse the structures of society through play.

The exhibition reveals how games create temporary communities. They teach negotiation, competition, fairness and exclusion. They reflect both freedom and hierarchy. In some videos, the children play in ordinary neighborhoods filled with laughter and routine. In others, games unfold beside military checkpoints or in areas shaped by poverty, displacement and war.

Play persists, but never outside history.

The multi-screen installation at MAMU emphasizes these contrasts, showing both the universality of childhood and the inequalities that define it. Similar games appear across radically different geographies, suggesting what the curators describe as a kind of underground cosmopolitan culture of childhood – one that challenges the rigid identities of the adult world.

At the same time, the exhibition reflects on disappearance.

Traditional street games, some with roots stretching back to ancient Mesopotamia, are becoming less visible. Urban traffic has overtaken streets once used as playgrounds. Safety concerns have limited unsupervised outdoor play. Screens and digital entertainment increasingly dominate leisure time. Public space itself has become more regulated, commercialized and less available for improvisation.

Alÿs’s work does not romanticize the past, but it does capture transient moments of celebration.

What looks ordinary today – a spinning top, a hopscotch square, a game played with stones – may one day become a contemporary hieroglyph, evidence of how communities once formed themselves in public space.

As curator Cuauhtémoc Medina notes, games are not eternal. Their disappearance may signal something larger about the transformation of humanity itself.

If all the world’s a street, Alÿs has chosen not to place these collaborative works on the market, underscoring their documentary and communal nature. For the multi-medium storyteller, games, like art, are not commodities, but shared records of our collective experience.

This Bogotá presentation marks the exhibition’s fifth international stop following showings in Mexico City, Antwerp, Guadalajara and Santiago de Chile. In 2024, Alÿs also presented the project at the Barbican Art Gallery under the title Ricochets, marking the first time his work was shown in the United Kingdom.

At MAMU, the museum becomes more than a gallery – it becomes a space to reconsider childhood, the city and the fragile public spaces where both are formed.

Museo de Arte Miguel Urrutia. Calle 11 No.4-21.

Admission is Free.

ARTBO Weekend returns to Bogotá this week with a milestone worth noting – and a programme that suggests the event is no longer content with staying within its traditional comfort zones.

Celebrating its tenth edition from April 16 to 19, the city-wide initiative organized by the Bogotá Chamber of Commerce (CCB) arrives bigger, more dispersed and arguably more ambitious than ever. With over 160 free activities, 86 participating spaces and 280 artists from 27 countries, the numbers alone tell a story of steady expansion. But the real shift this year is geographic.

For the first time, ARTBO Weekend – Fin de Semana – pushes decisively into new territory. The addition of Kennedy, Nogal and Chicó as official circuits marks a deliberate move away from the event’s familiar enclaves. It is, in many ways, a statement about where Bogotá’s art scene is headed – or where it wants to go.

Kennedy stands out. Historically on the fringes of the city’s cultural programming, the district’s inclusion is more than symbolic. The reopening of the Chamber of Commerce’s exhibition space in the area signals a longer-term investment in decentralising Bogotá’s art ecosystem. It also raises a question that has hovered over ARTBO Weekend in recent years: who, exactly, is the event for?

For organisers, the answer has consistently been “everyone.” And, on paper, that commitment holds. Entry remains free across all venues, and the programme spans everything from gallery exhibitions and museum shows to performances, workshops, talks and editorial launches. The addition of complimentary transport routes – the Bus ARTBO – helps bridge the distances between circuits, turning what could be a logistical challenge into something closer to an urban stroll.

Still, navigating ARTBO Weekend requires a degree of planning. Bogotá is not compact, and its art circuits are spread across distinct neighbourhoods, each with its own pace and character. San Felipe, long considered the epicentre of the contemporary gallery scene, remains a reliable starting point, particularly for first-time visitors. Chapinero offers a more eclectic mix, where independent spaces sit alongside institutional venues, while the Centro Histórico provides a slower, more contemplative route through museums and heritage sites.

This year, however, the draw may well lie in the unfamiliar. Kennedy’s circuit promises a different rhythm – less polished, perhaps, but more reflective of the city’s broader social fabric. Chicó and Nogal, by contrast, introduce a more polished, design-forward dimension to the programme, expanding the conversation beyond traditional gallery spaces.

What distinguishes ARTBO Weekend from its larger counterpart, ARTBO, is precisely this sense of movement. There are no booths, no central venue, no singular point of focus. Instead, the city itself becomes the exhibition space, and the act of moving between circuits becomes part of the experience.

That experience is not purely visual. The “Conversaciones” series, curated by Raphael Fonseca of the Denver Art Museum, brings together artists, curators and academics for a series of panel discussions that aim to unpack the themes shaping contemporary art today. With free entry and simultaneous translation, the talks offer a point of entry for audiences looking to engage more deeply with the works on display.

Equally, the Encuentro Editorial continues to carve out a niche within the programme. Focused on independent publishing and the book as an artistic medium, it provides a quieter counterpoint to the busier exhibition circuits. For many, it is here – among the artist books and experimental print projects – that the creative pulse is most tangible.

After a decade, ARTBO Weekend has settled into a rhythm that feels both established and open-ended. It has succeeded in building audiences, supporting local galleries and positioning Bogotá within a wider Latin American art conversation. At the same time, it continues to grapple with the challenges of scale, access and representation that come with growth.

For visitors, the best approach may be to resist the urge to see everything. Pick two or three circuits per day. Use the Bus ARTBO, but don’t be afraid to walk, and take an umbrella for the inclement April weather. Allow time for the unexpected – a performance that spills into the street, a conversation that runs longer than planned, a small space that wasn’t on the map.

Because if ARTBO Weekend has proven anything over the past ten years, it is that Bogotá’s art scene is not confined to a single district, or a single idea of what art should be. It is scattered, evolving and, at its best, deeply connected to the city.

Beatriz González, one of Latin America’s most influential contemporary artists, whose boldly colored, deliberately unrefined paintings and installations confronted Colombia’s long history of political violence, public mourning and social inequality – while also reshaping the country’s most important public art collection – died on Jan. 9, 2026, at her home in Bogotá. She was 93.

Her death was announced by the Banco de la República, Colombia’s central bank, where for more than four decades she played a decisive role in shaping the institution’s cultural mission and its vast art collections. In a statement, the bank described her as “an essential figure in Colombian art and culture” and “a masterful narrator of memory.”

González was not only a prolific artist but also a historian, curator, educator and critic — a rare figure who helped define how Colombia would see its art, its past and, ultimately, itself. “Artists exist so that memory is not thrown in the trash,” she once said, a line that came to stand as a quiet manifesto for a career devoted to preserving what official histories often erased.

Born in Bucaramanga in 1932, González came of age during La Violencia, the brutal civil conflict that engulfed Colombia between 1948 and 1958. That formative experience would leave an indelible mark on her work. After briefly studying architecture, she enrolled at the University of the Andes in Bogotá, graduating with a degree in fine arts in 1962. She later studied printmaking in Rotterdam and counted among her teachers the influential critic Marta Traba, who helped shape modern art discourse in Latin America.

González’s early work drew attention for its irreverent treatment of European art history and Colombian popular imagery. Her critical view of “good taste” led her to reject academic refinement in favor of what the art critic Germán Rubiano described as an approach that was consciously unpolished and deliberately opposed to sophistication.

She appropriated masterpieces by Manet, Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael, flattening their compositions and translating them into the visual language of curtains, furniture and household objects. Armoires, beds, trays and even wallpaper became supports for paintings marked by compressed figures and bold color palettes — a strategy that blurred the boundary between high art and domestic life.

One of her earliest and most discussed works, The Sisga Suicides (1965), reimagined a newspaper photograph of a young couple who drowned themselves in a dam outside Bogotá. Rendered in vivid, almost cheerful colors, the painting exposed the uneasy coexistence of tragedy and banality in Colombian public life — a theme that would recur throughout her career.

By the 1980s, González’s art took on an increasingly overt political tone. Press photographs of presidents, massacres and grieving families became central to her work. She painted them repeatedly, transforming news images into objects of repetition and contemplation, as if to ask how a society becomes accustomed to its own suffering. “It’s been a critique of power that has permeated my work,” she told ArtReview in 2016. “For that very reason, I don’t think of it as ‘political’; it has an ethical commitment.”

Her focus on mourning was particularly stark in works depicting mothers weeping after the 1996 Las Delicias massacre, in which dozens of Colombian soldiers were killed by the FARC guerrilla. These images, stripped of sentimentality, confronted viewers with grief as a collective, inescapable condition. The depth with which González addressed both individual and collective mourning stands among her most significant contributions to contemporary art.

That macabre clarity intensified in the 2000s. In Anonymous Auras (2023), one of her final major works, González installed more than 8,000 printed silhouettes of workers carrying corpses across the wall niches of Bogotá’s Central Cemetery. The figures – anonymous, repetitive and almost ritualistic – transformed the cemetery into a monumental archive of loss, honoring victims whose names were never recorded.

“Artists exist so that memory is not thrown in the trash”

Parallel to her artistic production, González exerted extraordinary influence as a curator and cultural policymaker. Beginning in the 1980s, she became a close collaborator of the Banco de la República’s cultural division, serving as a researcher, curator and longtime member of its advisory committee on visual arts. In that role, she helped guide the formation of a national art collection with a distinctly Colombian focus, while insisting on dialogue with international works of the highest quality.

Few individuals knew the Central Bank’s art collection as intimately as González. Over more than forty years, she worked alongside successive generations of curators, historians and collectors, helping to consolidate one of the most important public art collections in Latin America.

In 2020, she donated her personal archive and library — nearly 100,000 documents — to the Banco de la República to ensure free public access. The archive documents not only her artistic practice but also her work as an educator, curator and historian, and provides an unparalleled record of Colombian art, politics and visual culture.

Her institutional impact reached beyond the Central Bank. At the Museo de Arte Moderno de Bogotá (MAMBO), she founded the influential School of Guides, a pioneering program for museum education that trained figures who would later become leading artists and curators. From 1989 to 2004, she served as chief curator of the Museo Nacional de Colombia, where she reorganized the permanent collection and helped redefine the country’s historical narrative through art.

International recognition came steadily. Her work appeared in Documenta 14, the Berlin Biennale and the landmark exhibition “Radical Women: Latin American Art, 1960–1985.” Major retrospectives were held at the Pérez Art Museum Miami, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, and the CAPC in Bordeaux. In 2026, the Barbican Centre in London is set to host her first major retrospective in the United Kingdom.

González received numerous honors, including Colombia’s Premio Vida y Obra and honorary doctorates from the University of the Andes and the University of Antioquia. In 2025, the city of Bogotá awarded her the Civil Order of Merit, recognizing her invaluable legacy and profound influence on the nation’s cultural life.

Yet she remained skeptical of accolades. She preferred to speak of discipline, research and responsibility — and of the obligation, as she saw it, to bear witness. From a childhood habit of collecting film-star postcards to a lifetime spent gathering images of state violence, Beatriz González devoted herself to the stubborn preservation of memory and to an unapologetic voice in Colombian contemporary art.

Read the Banco de la República’s tribute (in Spanish) to Beatriz González, written by Claudia Cristancho Camacho of the Cultural Section and Art Collection. 

https://www.banrepcultural.org/noticias/despedimos-la-maestra-beatriz-gonzalez-figura-esencial-del-arte-y-la-cultura-en-colombia