This piece is part of the book CTXT, a utopia in motion, in which sixty-seven signatures talk about the first ten years of the magazine’s operation and its political context. It can be purchased here.
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If you have to know anything about me, it’s that I don’t like to work. Or well, I don’t like that you have to earn a living with a job. I don’t like writing either, which is why you’ve barely seen my name in this magazine. And despite both things, I enjoy working at CTXT.
CTXT is my home, almost literally. At least he was when he was born. I had finished university abroad and returned to Madrid without knowing what was going to become of my life, much less what I was going to do. But it turns out that my parents, Mónica and Miguel, had taken the leap into the void and were now working from the living room.
Since it seemed that to work there you only needed a laptop and a smoke like a chimney, I started joining at the close of the Wednesday issue, learned to use the editorial system, Newscoop, and in a few months I already had my crush there.
I learned to use the editing system and in a few months I had up to my crush there
After El Saloncito I took a break to study and when I returned, two years later, I rejoined the editorial staff. CTXT had grown and had its own office. Now, in addition to uploading the texts to Newscoop, there were all kinds of things to do. (In case you haven’t realized yet, the railer has an amazing ability to invent implausible projects). So, from the editorial office of Príncipe de Vergara, I helped Pilar Garrido (kisses) with the shipments of the merchandisingI tried to put order in the journalism workshops, I sold books, bags and Hems at the Berlin Park book fair, or I overcame my technological uselessness by trying to make streamings of the Out of Context that we organized at the Teatro del Barrio, whatever happened. Always, of course, accompanied by that impostor syndrome that assails many of us—add a pinch of another syndrome, that of the plugged-in.
From that office, in 2018, the idea of a feminist congress began to emerge. After several months of thinking about thematic tables, performances, looking for speakers, getting tickets, reserving accommodation, the congress, another of the seemingly impossible ideas that ended up working, was a success. We brought together around forty women (diverse, fun, strong and very smart) and for two days we lived a dream in Zaragoza. The speakers, delivered; and the attendees (hundreds), excited. Ending that coven celebrating life in the streets of Tubo and singing loudly “Down with the patriarchy that is going to fall, and up with the feminism that is going to win” was the closing of one of the best experiences of my life and probably one of the few moments in which the syndromes have not haunted me.
After the Zaragoza Conference, and always looking for ways to find pasta even under the stones, El Taller de CTXT arrived. We closed our office and moved to a huge space next to Plaza de Olavide. The Workshop was another way to implement the motto ‘context and action’. At street level, in Juan de Austria, was the magazine’s editorial office and the store/bookstore. In the basement, the bar, the CTXT cave.
The cave was home to countless performances, concerts, recitals, exhibitions, debates, even a play, and parties, lots of parties. With the Workshop we found that it is much easier to make money with beer than with journalism. And I thought that, since I was not going to dedicate myself to the consecrated profession for a while, I could quit smoking. Bad idea. Thanks to Carlos García de la Vega, my fellow tavern owner, for putting up with my monkey and guiding us on this new adventure.
Once installed, the platform weighing several tons that had to be lowered down a hellish staircase was installed, the beer barrels, a half idea of how the speakers worked, the microphones (those that never seem to work for Guillem Martínez), the dishwasher with industrial detergent, the blinds, the website to sell tickets, the calendar (always chaotic), contacts with salespeople, delivery people, publishers, musicians, poets and other fauna, we had a great time. There we celebrated a contextual anniversary, the birthday of a minister, A WEDDING!, we saw Carmen Linares sing for forty people, we listened to young and not so young musicians, we attended the premiere of a short film and a documentary, we celebrated our own birthdays, parties queerSunday vermouths… Surely you can finish the list yourselves, it was the space that we would all like to have in our city.
The Workshop was the space that we all wanted to have in our city
Finally, due to the pandemic, The Workshop was closed, not without relief to our livers, and we were left with another idea that had been born there, the Contextatory Writings. An editorial within CTXT and another novelty to learn. I suppose that at this point in the film they have already understood that here we are taking care of the things that no one really knows who has to take care of and we are learning as we go how to do them. If you need an anectodilla, I’ll share it with you. The friends at Traficantes de Sueños, our distributor, advised us on a computer program to manage everything related to books, from the stocks to invoices and royalties, wisely warning us that it was not easy to use. The anarchist manager, the crazy director and I swallowed a week of virtual classes to learn how to use the thing and we suffered a lot of headaches to get a measly board. Upon returning from the weekend, the rail decided to return to his excel loved ones and that invention was never heard of again. Order and method is not our thing.
I have already said that I do not like to write, and as Miguel Candela said, “nothing is eternal, gentlemen”, so let’s finish. These ten years of CTXT have been a lot of fun. Personally, they have given me the opportunity to meet wonderful people, to talk and read about issues that I could not find in other media, to learn to do a little of everything without knowing much of anything (the wise say that this is journalism). and also to give lyrics and voice to the people who support this project. In recent years I have been getting the hang of subscriber service and I have ended up liking it because I have discovered that many of you, those who support this magazine utopia, are kind, loving, committed people and fervent believers that something so strange and special like CTXT has to always exist.
Long live CTXT!
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Adriana M. Andrade She is an editor, producer, writer, head of subscriptions and editorial advisor at CTXT.
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