‘I grew up in a household where my parents had a lot of mirrors,” says Anto(n) Astudillo, whose first name includes a parenthetical as a practical and playful reminder of different stages of their life. Read this article for free: Already have an account? To continue reading, please subscribe: * ‘I grew up in a household where my parents had a lot of mirrors,” says Anto(n) Astudillo, whose first name includes a parenthetical as a practical and playful reminder of different stages of their life. Read unlimited articles for free today: Already have an account? ‘I grew up in a household where my parents had a lot of mirrors,” says Anto(n) Astudillo, whose first name includes a parenthetical as a practical and playful reminder of different stages of their life.
As a kid in Santiago, Chile, Astudillo wasn’t the type to shy away from self-assessment. “There was a lot of imagining what I looked like,” says the artist, who uses they/he pronouns. He would play with his hair or wear his father’s ties, noticing what he now understands as the transportative, ethereal possibilities offered by a reflective surface.
“To me, the mirror was a dream space,” says Astudillo, who now lives in Brooklyn and who shares insights into their trans experience using a hybrid of film and live theatre. MIKA PHOTO Artist Anto(n) Astudillo in a performance titled A Body Surrenders It’s an idea that Astudillo explored Friday night at the Winnipeg Film Group’s Black Lodge Studio as .
