Their bitter rivalry was not unusual for the times. One was a communist and the other was a teacher at the military academy, as well as a supporter of the conservative Patria y Libertad (Fatherland and Freedom) group. I hid my own pile of LPs by left-leaning musical groups such as Quilapayún and Inti-Illimani in the attic of a house in the coastal town of Viña del Mar.Īt the university, I had been given a desk located between two warring faculty members. Leftist acquaintances used my apartment as a gathering place before they dashed for the Mexican embassy, which was offering political asylum. In the following days and weeks, the carabineros and military burned large piles of confiscated books in the streets, some of them publications the socialist government had subsidized in support of its cause.
Television stations ran the same images over and over-evidence of Allende’s death, an AK-47 assault rifle in his home bearing a friendly inscription to him from Fidel Castro, and soldiers pointing to packs of American currency allegedly found in the president’s refrigerator. People rushed to the neighborhood bakery to buy food-whatever they could find. On the street, carabineros (national police) and military were out in force. Many of them would die.įrom the window of my third-floor apartment, I watched Hawker Hunter jet fighters fire missiles at the downtown area, where the presidential palace, La Moneda (above September 11, 1973), stood.įrom the window of my third-floor apartment, I watched Hawker Hunter jet fighters fire missiles at the downtown area, where the presidential palace, La Moneda, stood. I learned later that they were on their way to defend President Allende, whom they saw as a champion of disenfranchised people such as themselves. On the hurried walk to my apartment, I passed small groups of campesinos (farmers) headed toward the city center.
The now infamous golpe de estado (coup d’état) led by Chile’s army general Augusto Pinochet had begun. I heard popping in the distance, popping and booming growing louder and louder. When I reached the perimeter of the central city, I saw uniformed carabineros, the national police. Cars were moving faster than usual, many driving away from downtown, not toward it. I soon sensed, though, that something more was going on. With no bus to take, I headed on foot toward my office at the University of Chile. Chile, normally a stable country, had fallen on difficult times as the Allende socialist regime looked to redistribute the wealth of an entrenched oligarchy. It also became an (unintended) opportunity to learn something about politics. It had seemed a great opportunity, as Chile, a long, narrow country that seems like the South American equivalent of the Californian coast, was rich in regional and indigenous cultural traditions. My Convenio Chile-California fellowship had taken me to Chile, where I had worked for two months as an exchange fellow in a University of California music program, teaching a course and conducting music research in the field. It seemed the strike by truckers and bus owners in protest of socialist president Salvador Allende’s policies had made my bad commute downtown even worse. A few daring riders stood on the bumper and held on.
As usual, the bus running by my apartment was packed to the gills, but today there was overflow.
Cover art the cat and the coup series#
He capriciously runs the Wax Wroth Reading Series and has a sound and video project called Glossolalia.Septemwas a pleasant pre-spring morning, a workday in Santiago. His poetry, sound art and videos have appeared in journals and chapbooks and festivals often enough that writing about himself in the third person does not even faze him. From 2010 to 2012, he was the editor of Duke Performances blog The Thread, and completed a series of more than 70 interviews with world-class performing artists there in 2013.
He has undertaken substantial copywriting projects for Duke Performances, the NC Opera, and others. He has also contributed to Paste, The Fanzine, Fender, GO, Shuffle, Very Short List, The Pitchfork 500 book, the Poetics of American Song Lyrics anthology, ABC.com's " New Music Monday," and others. In addition to regularly writing for Pitchfork, INDY Week, eMusic, and Kill Screen, he is a columnist and editorial contributor at Edge. Brian Howe is a freelance arts, entertainment & culture journalist who covers music, books, video games, and more.
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