My Uncle, or Sonido (a Mexican DJ) Antillano as he is better known, has been hauling his soundsystem across West Michigan since the early 2000s. I attended his events from the earliest point in life; the sounds of squeaking shoes and pulsating bass forming the rhythm of my childhood while in my mother’s womb as she danced to his latest mix.
The audio and visual aesthetics of Sonidero culture are deeply informed by science fiction motifs: the sound system functions as a metaphorical spacecraft as the Sonidero assumes the role of its navigator. From this central command, music is projected like a beam of light emanating from a UFO—an auditory (and borderline gravitational) force that activates the dancefloor. Filtered lights and lasers bounce off party-goers illuminating the sweat and smiles across the dancefloors.
In sharp contrast, the same lighting technology—lasers, spotlights, and other motion activated lights— is being used to monitor and control movement not just at the Southern border but across the US. Light, illumination, which depending on the person, can be an existential crisis if spotted by such light. This duality, where visibility can be both celebration and threat, underscores the paradox many Mexican and Mexican-American communities face.
Through the visual and auditory language of Sonidero culture, I reflect on the tension between being seen and being surveilled—between joy and danger. I invite you into this experience: where music and light both connect and complicate what it means to move, to exist, freely.
Exhibition photography by Emanuel Silva-Lopez
Laser print on vinyl
8” x 8”
2025
Inkjet print
5x7
2025