Broadcasts S2 Ep4: Aural Fragmentation

Aural Fragmentation is the fourth and final installment of season two of Storefront: Broadcasts. This special episode is produced and sound-designed by Mexican artist, researcher, and community organizer Jerónimo Reyes-Retana. He expands upon the ideas explored in our previous episode, Fugitive Terrain, such as  the tension of water bodies as contested sites of catastrophe, conflict, and violence, but also as frontiers of freedom and retreat. 

Aural Fragmentation compiles a selection of ideas, provocations, and speculations stemming from a unique encounter at the easternmost edge of the Mexico-US borderlands. In this hidden corner of Tamaulipas, an oyster field vital to the local economy of the marginalized community of El Campo Pesquero de Playa Bagdad is now in alarming proximity to the SpaceX launch port at Boca Chica, Texas. In this context, confluence extends beyond the meeting of the waters of the Rio Grande and the Gulf of Mexico, creating a threshold not only between Mexico and the US but also between the so-called Third World and the First, inviting reflection on the emergence of new frontiers in outer space.

For over three years, Reyes-Retana has examined this Mexico-US confrontation through the multifocal lens of decoloniality. By implementing contingent and relational research methodologies in collaboration with educator and community organizer Ana Cerino, Reyes-Retana’s work seeks to establish alternative channels of political agency in response to a unique case of social and environmental injustice caused by the sonic shock waves produced by SpaceX’s massive launchers during lift-offs and static fire tests—a situation that, paradoxically, remains silenced. In this episode, Mexican musician Cecilia Bastida—one of the leading voices of the emblematic music band Tijuana No—reads a text in which Reyes-Retana uses the oyster field of Playa Bagdad as a vertex to articulate a multitemporal and multidimensional dialogue with Chicana feminist writer and thinker Gloria Anzaldúa’s engagement with borders as sites for conjuring emancipatory synergies.

This episode includes testimonies from Reyna, a prominent community member who has worked in the oyster field for more than two decades and is a collaborator in Reyes-Retana’s research. Her voice is complemented by on-site field recordings that offer a sonic perspective of a landscape shaped by dissonant realities. Through an interplay of languages and juxtaposed symbols, stereophonic sound impressions invite reflection on how borderlands serve as fertile conceptual terrains for the emergence of third zones for listening—spaces from which to navigate a geopolitical climate of aural fragmentation.

Ceci Bastida (b. Tijuana, MX) was born and raised in Tijuana and now lives in Los Angeles. She is a Latin Grammy-nominated musician, songwriter, recording artist, and activist. Bastida joined the iconic Mexican ska-punk band Tijuana No when she was just 15 and became one of the first women to rise in the ranks of contemporary Latin rock. In 2000, she spent eight years as part of the touring band of acclaimed singer Julieta Venegas. As an advocate of immigration reform and prison abolition, she works with the Young Center for Immigrant Children’s Rights as a child advocate and with Revolve Impact as a musical activist.

Ana Cerino (b. Matamoros, MX) began her career as an educator in 2007, teaching at various local universities in Matamoros, where she continues to hold a position at Universidad Tamaulipeca, Campus Matamoros. In 2021, she partnered with Mexico’s Consejo Nacional de Fomento Educativo (CONAFE)—a state agency responsible for education in marginalized communities—to teach at the primary school in El Campo Pesquero de Playa Bagdad in the Mexican border state of Tamaulipas, a role she held until 2023. Since then, Cerino has remained active as a community organizer, conceptualizing and developing alternative spaces for public education in Playa Bagdad. In 2024, she joined the Instituto Tamaulipeco de Educación para Adultos as a volunteer, which is affiliated with Mexico’s National Education Institute for Adults. In addition to her work in education, she holds a bachelor’s degree in Industrial Engineering from the Tecnológico de Matamoros and has over fourteen years of experience in the maquila industry.

Jerónimo Reyes-Retana (b. 1984, Mexico City) is a researcher, artist, and community organizer from Mexico City whose work examines the poetics of infrastructure and the politics of noise in Latin American contact zones—sites shaped by the environmental, geopolitical, and social anxieties arising from the pursuit of progress. His work has been exhibited at Museo Tamayo, MX; Museo Anahuacalli, MX; Casa del Lago, MX; Museo de Arte de Ciudad Juárez, MX; the Texas Biennial, US; Co-Lab Projects, US; and Mario Kreuzberg, CH; Distant Gallery, NL; among others. His writing has been published by Toda la Teoría del Universo; The Institute for Studies on Latin American Art (ISLAA); xCoAx: Conference on Computation, Communication, Aesthetics & X; Storefront for Art and Architecture; Centro de la Imagen; and Sociology Lens: Carceral Edgelands. Reyes-Retana has received the FONCA-CONACYT Fellowship through the Mexican National Council for Arts, Culture, and Technology, as well as the Public and Educational Program Grant from Museo Jumex in Mexico City for his community-based initiative Public Art Program: For a Shared (Outer)Space. In 2025, his film installation Void in Resonance received the CIFO-Ars Electronica Award. His work is part of the Cisneros-Fontanals collection. Reyes-Retana holds an MFA in Sculpture and Extended Media from the University of Texas at Austin, and he is currently a doctoral candidate in Critical Media Practices at the University of Colorado, Boulder.

Reyna San Juan Gabino (n. La Victoria, México) works cultivating and harvesting an oyster field on the banks of the Río Grande and in a lagoon adjacent to the river—an activity that plays a crucial role in sustaining the local economy of El Campo Pesquero de Playa Bagdad, Tamaulipas, a marginalized community in the northern Mexican borderlands. Her leadership and experience have earned her a special place in the community, where she has been actively involved in developing communal strategies for collective growth and mutual support. With over twenty years of experience, Reyna has been a strong advocate for revitalizing oyster production and distribution standards while also designing alternative models to improve education, healthcare, and social conditions in Playa Bagdad. Additionally, she works to combat the systemic invisibility that hinders the political recognition of her community.

Reyna:

First appearance 

“Here, most of our family makes a living by selling oysters that we harvest from the river. At this point, many of us are already working in the oyster fields. We plant these little shells you see here in the river. We throw the remaining shells of everything we sell over the weekend back into the water. Then, over the course of a year, the larvae attach themselves to the shells again, and that’s how we cultivate and harvest oysters.

We go to the river and the lagoon every Wednesday to plant oysters. What we do is take out the young oysters and place them in a designated area with restricted access. Those of us who work in oyster farming coordinate to set a date when we can begin harvesting, ensuring that we take care of production and have stock to sell.

It’s a process I really enjoy because it is our source of income. We make a living by selling oysters on the beach; we walk along the sand, pulling carts filled with oysters. Harvesting oysters is hard work; we wear gloves and sturdy shoes because cutting ourselves on the oyster shells is very easy.

Recently, women have joined the oyster harvest, whereas most workers were men before. For me, harvesting oysters has always been a beautiful experience.”

Second appearance 

“Actually, I experienced a rocket engine test once while we were harvesting oysters. Suddenly, we could feel the vibration of the water. At first, we thought it was an earthquake, but that was unlikely since this isn’t a seismic zone.

Then, the sound of the rocket was heard, gradually increasing in intensity as the oyster field is extremely close to the launch site. When the rumbling began, all the birds took off flying. It was a very striking experience, something I had never lived through before.

I truly believe the sound definitely affects the biosphere, especially the fish, since every time there is a launch, they seem to hide—the fishing decreases significantly. This worries us because there are more and more launches, and we had never experienced anything like this before, especially with the kind of machines and technologies they use. And honestly, it feels really intense, especially in the ears.”

Third appearance 

“Mexican authorities are saying that they plan to build a sightseeing corridor to watch SpaceX launches. For us, as oyster vendors, this could be beneficial because it would mean an increase in tourism. If more tourists come, we will have more work. However, the downside is that this would also bring negative consequences, as it will make fishing more difficult for the community’s fishermen, and fishing is another important source of income for the community.”

Fourth appearance 

“The authorities have not given us any explanation about the implications of coexisting with SpaceX, and we think that maybe it’s because we are over here. They are on the other side, and the only thing that separates us is the river. Half of the river belongs to the United States, and the other half belongs to Mexico. To this day, no authority has approached us to talk about the consequences or benefits of this situation.

The sound of the rocket does have an impact. Here, in the Campo Pesquero, we are a community with a considerable population. Most of us live in small houses that are not very resistant, so it would be good if they took us into account. I believe that over there, on the other side, they are kept informed. Over here, we are in the dark; no authority pays attention to us, and no one is monitoring the damage the rocket could cause.

We would like to be recognized and considered, mainly because there isn’t much distance between us and SpaceX. We can feel the impact almost at 100%. If something were to go wrong, we would be dangerously close to the rocket.

We want to be acknowledged because we are already a relatively large population—we have grown as a community. We now have a school, from preschool to middle school. We genuinely want to be treated as the human beings we are.”