We’re in a home studio. Lupa (in the baseball cap and black t-shirt) runs it as a drop-in recording and music workshop facility for the local kids, as well as the headquarters of his crew, FB7.
Bibiana translates as rapper Fly So High explains why Un-Convention in Medellín is so important to them. They see it as the beginning of a change in the city, and an opportunity to expand the positive impact they’ve been able to have through music in the community.
There are what’s known as ‘invisible borders’ between barrios in Medellín, and people from one neighbourhood run the risk of being killed simply for crossing into another. But the idea of Un-Convention is to bring people together, and by holding a music conference – and particularly the public music events in the city – the hope was that some of these barriers could start to crumble through collaboration and a cultural connection through the shared love of hip hop.
As Jez rightly points out, many of the problems faced in Colombia are universal (albeit in different degrees) and there are parallels here in the UK with the postcode wars. The work that FB7 are doing here in Medellín could stand as an inspirational model.
Dancing in the street
For me, the above conversation beautifully contextualises the video below, taken just three days later – in which young people from all over the city came together for a hip hop concert on a public street in the middle of town on the final night of Un-Convention.
Many of those kids never come to the city centre – and they would not consider most of the others their peers or friends in any other context. And while that mosh pit might look pretty intense to you, that’s dancing – not fighting.
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Tagged: Medellin, unconvention