Abstract
The tecciztli or conch shell trumpet is one of the most evocative musical instruments of prehispanic Mexico and one of the most emblematic of contemporary Mexicanist movements. The symbolic significance of this instrument, however, remains little known. This article documents this significance and investigates:

1. The role the tecciztli played in sacrificial ceremonies conducted by the Aztecs throughout 17 of the 18 veintenas that structured their solar calendar.
2. The role assigned by the ancient Mexica to this instrument within their cosmogony.
3. The iconographic representation of the tecciztli in the codices of this civilization.

This study demonstrates that the tecciztli inhabited a liminal space between the underworld and the upperworld, and was the medium used by Aztec divinity to create Quetzalcoatl and humankind.

In this sense, the tecciztli was considered the generator of the “divine breath” which, when used to announce the death of the sacrificed, could be regarded as the medium par excellence for connecting the origin of life with death.

Due to its polysemic nature, the sound produced by the conch shell trumpet was represented by the Aztecs with the same sign used to represent divine breath, the word, song, poetry, and music.

Abstract: The tecciztli, a trumpet made from a marine conch shell, played a crucial role in human sacrifice rituals during the Mexica veintenas—the ceremonial cycles of the religious calendar. Its deep, resonant sound not only marked specific moments within the ritual but also served as a medium to invoke deities, spiritually prepare participants, and connect the human and divine worlds.

Used especially in ceremonies dedicated to gods such as Tláloc and Tezcatlipoca, the tecciztli symbolized communication between sky, earth, and the underworld. Its presence reaffirms the importance of sound in prehispanic religious practices—not merely as accompaniment, but as an active element that shaped the sacred experience.

Abstract: This essay reflects on the gendered implications of sound fieldwork and the direction of independent cultural projects. Drawing from her experience documenting the soundscapes of Baja California—the Pacific coast, the Sierra de San Pedro Mártir, and the Gulf of California—Maura Alemán examines how listening in the field involves, for women, a constant negotiation with the body: calculating exit routes, assessing available daylight, evaluating risks that methodological handbooks fail to name.

The text also addresses the “credibility tax” women face when leading independent projects, and how the founding of Rinforzando Música in 2017 responds to the need for spaces where musical learning becomes a site of care rather than judgment. Grounded in the pedagogies of Paulo Freire, bell hooks, and Nel Noddings, this practice positions listening as an act of resistance: refusing haste, reclaiming the right to be present, and building spaces where others need not pay the same cost.