If Brillat-Savarin belongs to a tradition, it is not one that passes cleanly through the genealogies of philosophy proper. It is, rather, a minor and often overlooked lineage.

Before discernment, there was only devouring. The hunger of Cronos was absolute, unable to be questioned or measured. But when Eve lifts the fruit, something unprecedented occur.

Middle features the original score composed for Lo que hay en el medio, a choreographic piece by dancer and researcher Vanessa Vargas.

If taste is an epistemology—if the mouth knows, if incorporation is cognition—then wine is its philosophical provocation par excellence: a substance that troubles the line between body and mind, clarity and intoxication, presence and loss.

The mouth, uniquely positioned at the threshold of inside and outside, is perhaps the most heightened organ of contact—and still, Aristotle has very little, almost nothing to say about it.

“An animal swallows its food,” Brillat-Savarin wrote. “A man eats it. But only a man of intelligence knows how to dine.”

Socrates’ final words in Crito carry the weight of both an ending and a promise.

Walter Benjamin famously wrote that “hell is the province of those who are not allowed to finish what they have started.”

Is the merciless, unrepentant, genocidal history of Venezuela (since its very colonial inception) just another historical instantiation of the unforgivable?