It is said that Buenos Aires is a city that never sleeps. Restaurants, cafes, bowling alleys: there is always an open place, at any time of the day or night, where you may chat over a pie, a fernet, or a tango. However, its insomnia can be read in the eyes of those who in the morning get squashed in the underground: eyes of different colors and nationalities.

In Buenos Aires, spectators come from everywhere, attracted by its cultural offer that has no equal, except New York, where the prohibitive prices still reserve the culture for a lucky elite. They are passengers who end up staying in this vortex of lights and sensations, where they find a force that devours them, sometimes leaving them to return to their places, but only with the promise of being back in this centripetal site, the center of the world of Latin America .

The art of Buenos Aires is the force of its traditions, a random and disorderly mix of cultures, that for the last two centuries have continued to populate it, and its present, in constant confrontation with the promise of a future of stability that never comes.