
San Antonio's own Pamela Martinez, a multimedia artist who goes by Teletextile, is stirring up some local flora into an interactive performance this Saturday. According to a San Antonio Report, her show titled "Estafiate: Music for Plants" kicks off at 6 p.m. in Chris Park and it's as free as the breeze through the Texas white sagebrush it honors.
Martinez is diving deep into her roots with a tribute to her late grandmother, Sara Garcia, who swore by the powers of a little known herb called estafiate for everything from tummy troubles to shamanistic shindigs. And Google wasn't any help—she had to hit the real-world books to uncover its secrets. "I had to do a lot of studying to find that answer," Martinez confessed to the San Antonio Report. A pulse test will be on hand for the curious folks worried about allergies before it all shifts into an "immersive music theater" ride, complete with live musicians and dancers.
The estafiate plant isn't just backdrop for Martinez’s performance. These green wonders are wired for sound by tech whiz Miles Friday, making them interactive instruments that belt out notes when touched. "So you can come and you can play the plant," said Martinez. This isn't a mere gimmick; it's her nod to the cycles of giving and receiving between us and nature.
Over at Chris Park, beneath the shadow of Ruby City, attendees are in for an experiential awakening as they touch, listen, and connect with estafiate. If you've got a hankering for something out of the ordinary, this could be the ticket. The event is made possible through a grant from the City of San Antonio Department of Arts & Culture. Martinez’s aim is not just to educate but to inspire a personal connection with this local herb and our broader environment, according to details shared on a City of San Antonio event page.
A storyteller at heart, Martinez's Estafiate offers much more than a visual or auditory spectacle; it's an altar to ancestral knowledge and the natural wonders that have shaped lifeways in Texas. Martinez told City of San Antonio, "This work is an altar to those things we have forgotten, but somehow still flow through our blood, our river and our roots." Doors open to the public, tapping into a newfound appreciation for old-school remedies and relationships with the earth beneath our feet.









