“The north wind doesn’t set [our] windmills into motion”, a phrase that gives Geórgia Kyriakakis’s exhibition its title. In this context, the term “north wind” is a metaphor for the colonial power of Europe, identified as responsible for the plundering, enslavement, and the genocide of Indigenous peoples in the region, as well as the political oppression of the United States, a driving force behind coups and military dictatorships.

Published for the first time in 1971, Open Veins of Latin America, written by the Uruguayan Eduardo Galeano (1940–2015), is a timeless classic that delves into the power dynamics shaping the particularities of this region. Two years after the book’s release, the band Secos & Molhados records the song “Sangue latino” [“Latin Blood”], which includes the line “The north wind doesn’t set [our] windmills into motion”, a phrase that gives Geórgia Kyriakakis’s exhibition its title. In this context, the term “north wind” is a metaphor for the colonial power of Europe, identified as responsible for the plundering, enslavement, and the genocide of Indigenous peoples in the region, as well as the political oppression of the United States, a driving force behind coups and military dictatorships. Contrary to what has been ingrained in the collective imagination, Latin America is not merely a physical territory; it pertains, above all, to the systemic processes of colonization and exploitation. For more than five centuries, supplying the North with commodities has been an imposition on Latin American societies (as well as on other nations in the Global South). This is the subject addressed by Galeano’s book, Secos & Molhados’ song, and Geórgia Kyriakakis’ exhibition, each through its own distinct language Driven by an extractive economy dedicated to wrenching metals from the earth’s depths, burning forests, planting vast monoculture estates, and producing more cattle than humans, Latin America has been methodically bled dry for the benefit of the owners of capital. With a visuality akin to a bloodshed, the installation VEIAS ABERTAS [Open Veins] occupies the gallery’s main wall, juxtaposing fabrics of various materialities and shades of red with lines from the song — “my life, my dead, my crooked paths, my Latin blood, my captive soul.”