tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76526008694462362522024-03-13T06:31:30.867-04:00Aferro StudiosThis blog is created by current and alumni Gallery Aferro Studio Residents. Gallery Aferro is a Newark, NJ alternative space at 73 Market Street Newark, NJ and at www.aferro.org Contact at info@aferro.orgGallery Aferro Residency Programshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02576648362441147095noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-7391975848283721492013-11-12T12:58:00.000-05:002013-11-12T13:05:22.087-05:00A Time of Gifts<br>
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Due to unforeseen happiness, I have forgotten to mark the passage of not only my father's birthday - but Patrick Leigh Fermor's name day (Michali to his Greek compatriots). November 8 is somewhat a sacred day to me because of these two men. My father being the underlying theme behind most of my creative work (and his death the defining influence on my life); or at least the source inspiration and deeper connection to an ancient culture that calls me back to the only place that has ever felt solid and real to me: Greece.</div>
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Greece has always been a specter lurking in the corners of my mind. A place I am supposed to go, supposed to long for, supposed to make pilgramage to. The motherland. Home. My whole life has been built around a place I can scarcely afford to visit. My father ran from it as a teenager to escape things that I have only vague notions of diluted through my mother. He left this world when I was 17, unfortunately I was too young to ask the kind of questions you only ask as an adult. He remains a mystery. All memories I have of him confirm this.</div>
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Anger and unresolved sadness kept me for many years from confronting this PLACE (Greece) because my father had died there out of sight. Returning to Greece is the final acceptance of death and so I have not returned. </div>
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I travelled much in the years following his death, went to Europe several times, but never back to Greece. Sometime around the age of 24, shortly before my ill-fated marriage, I discovered the writing of Patrick Leigh Fermor.</div>
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How? I cannot remember. Most likely I was picking up books with interesting covers and found "A Time of Gifts". I won't go into detail describing his work, but suffice it to say he was the very last of his kind: adventurer-scholar. The world he lived in no longer exists. I became infatuated with this individual, and learned as much as I could about him. His journey on foot from the Hook of Holland to Constantinople, his time in Crete, sabbaticals at monasteries throughout Europe and wanderings around the Caribbean. PLF settled with his wife in the Mani, a particularly harsh and isolated part of the Peloponnese. </div>
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Thus started my journey to where I am now, my inner creative journey, my fascination with rural Greek death customs; my father's death, the death of my marriage, the death and beginnings of everything. An Englishman gave me back myself, gave me my culture, gave me the freedom and permission to mourn and weep openly. To celebrate the absolute, to enjoy the beautiful. He showed me the way home.</div>
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Patrick Leigh Fermor died on June 10, 2011 at the age of 96. I cried for many days. A trip was planned for November of that year, where I would finally return home and when I would visit PLF's home on November 8, his name day, my father's birthday, when the doors of his beautiful home were open to anyone who wanted to visit. I wanted to tell him what he had done for me, what I was creating and working on and how much he had inspired me and how much I related to his life. Even now as I write this, I am crying. Not for that missed opportunity, but because Patrick Leigh Fermor was a gift to this world, an actual hero, a true artist. </div>
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So thank you Paddy, for taking me home again. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17882295297174654405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-17976383502591886002013-10-23T11:01:00.000-04:002013-10-23T11:01:24.479-04:00Happy for the Opportunity!!!<br />
Survive my very first Open Studio Tour. It was so much fun. <br />
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I am so happy to start shooting at Aferro. My up and coming projects "Black women of the World": The sister companion to "Black Men of the World", and Re-Vibe: a modern retro looking at Age of Aquarius and Blaxplotation are both moving along. Thank you Aferro for the work space.<br />
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JermaineAnonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-2832834481553330592013-08-16T17:50:00.003-04:002013-08-16T17:50:53.059-04:00Dreaming about ZombiesWhat could be more tedious than a recounting of ones dreams?<br />
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There were zombies everywhere. Maybe not zombies. But dirty, sick, violent hordes. You know the routine. One of them came up to me as I fled (or was trying to) and said, "You want to see this-" (piercing her own cheek deeply with a finger and tearing flesh off) "but I want to see <i>this</i>" (touching my skull and eliciting a memory, not mine.)<br />
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<br />Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975824238450378331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-34300921772158395352013-08-16T17:45:00.004-04:002013-08-16T17:45:51.788-04:00Shape Shot<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Forensic Trinkets<br />
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A child's face as a coffee mug. A skull, a mask. I remember reading about how the families of the murdered women in the NAFTA border towns would deliberately stall, pretending not to be sure if the forensic busts made by an artist were their loved ones. So they could spend more time with them.<br />
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There is so much pseudoforensic on TV these days. Everything gets solved. <br />
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What could we make of ourselves? Faces are the most cost effective thing to entertain a baby or toddler. If you have nothing at hand, you can make a face for a child. Show your tongue, pull your flesh. So economical. We all get one.<br />
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<br />Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975824238450378331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-84017842745371642052013-08-15T23:47:00.001-04:002013-08-15T23:48:31.558-04:00Museum in the Tropics <p dir="ltr">On vacation in Costa Rica, I made a stop at the Museo De Arte Y Diseno Contemporaneo in San Jose. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The museum was a refreshing change of pace and perspective. I felt immersed in a rainforest while viewing the show even though the gallery space was shelter (I almost forgot I was in a city).</p>
<p dir="ltr">The work was seamlessly curated, flowing from one piece to the next. Installations of tropical domestic plants are seen alongside a video of a woman ingesting a poster of the rainforest. Screens suspended in the air with projections of the rainforest, and paintings with great palletes that I'm not used to seeing.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I saw very interesting work by two different artists so carefully and discreetly displayed that I almost missed them. One piece by Jorge Warner was tucked around a corner. 3 vertically suspended flat panels of what looked like living gardens covered both sides and occupied much of a small room.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The second artist's work inconspicuously became part of the gallery wall. Jessica Kaire from Guatemala had a piece called <i>Libertis</i> which consisted of a couple of small peepholes. When you looked through, you saw a intimate domestic spaces like a unoccupied bedroom. The spaces such as this model bedroom felt off-putting, strange, but real. One of the peepholes had small steps almost for a child to look through. </p>
<p dir="ltr">There's much to think about after visiting this little museum. </p>
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<p dir="ltr">Here is a cheat sheet for experiencing Newark.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ANh819LJLwg/UgVlNRqfIzI/AAAAAAAAD-g/WrOvVX9BHrg/s1600/Image001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ANh819LJLwg/UgVlNRqfIzI/AAAAAAAAD-g/WrOvVX9BHrg/s640/Image001.jpg"> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03401785537405729475noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-36711606579758674882013-07-14T20:34:00.002-04:002013-07-14T20:34:54.984-04:00SPENDING A DAY OF SUMMER VACATION AT THE CHICAGO ART INSTITUTE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Last week my husband and I traveled through Illinois and Wisconsin to see family and friends. On our last day we went to the Chicago Art Institute. If you have never been to the Chicago Art Institute you must see it. Some of the highlights for me that day was seeing the following works. In the Asian Art Section is a wonderful video projected artist's book, "Mimio-Odyssey" by the Japanese artist Tomoko Konioke. You can read more about this work and Tomoko Konioke at www.spencerart.comku.edu/collection/recent/Konoike.shtml We looked at some French old masters and we cooled ourselves off by seeing a wonderful small nude by Cezanne and a sculpture of a bather by Degas.There are a number of Georgia O'Keefe paintings there and we were particularly wowed by "Red Hills With Flowers." I was pleased to see there were a number of women artists in their collection and ones that you might not otherwise see including Suzanne Duchamp's, "Broken and Restored Multiplication," Helen Torre's "Extemporaneous," and Maria Elena Vieira da Silva's "Composition." Outside the Chicago Art Institute in Millennium Park is a huge terrific sculpture by the British sculptor Anish Kapoor called "Cloud Gate" nicknamed "The Bean." Also close by, in the Chicago Cultural Center (a former public library) is a wonderful Louis Comfort Tiffany Dome. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"> </span>Patricia Dahlmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06584161148612970597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-78864805576548207572013-07-08T21:19:00.002-04:002013-07-08T21:19:36.929-04:0073 Market Street<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I walk down Market Street in Newark on any given day, I look for number 73, open the doors, and take my time with whatever’s on the walls before reaching my studio. When climbing the stairs to the third level, I might hear a video playing on loop or pass by a great sculpture made of boxing gloves. After spending around four months at Gallery Aferro (so far) in the studio residency program, there is one thought that’s stuck with me:</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-78bb7582-c0fb-c7ab-49d4-48adb08301ae" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Is it the space that makes the art? Or, is it the art that makes the space?</span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gallery Aferro at 73 Market Street is a very old building. I can’t tell you exactly how old it is, I’ll just say that it has acquired a certain character and wisdom. I spend a good deal of time imagining what happened in the building way back when. I’m sure I could find out, but it’s more exciting for me not to know. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Consolas; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is evidence of the history of the space in my studio as well. I found small notes or wall drawings made in pencil and pen by a previous studio resident. I found myself making paintings right next to these remnants. I've also deduced that some of these drawings are actually a series of lines used as an aid to help the artist figure out where place nails to hang their work. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Consolas; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is no doubt that these tiny notes in pencil or pen have influenced my work. I look at these drawings with a certain degree of reverence. Somehow, even though I didn't make these marks, I see them as part of my sketchbook - a sketchbook I never had (I rarely make preparatory sketches). I would never consider covering them up or painting over them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Consolas; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">At the same time, you have to wonder - - how much of the intrigue behind this building is actually attributed to the artists and artwork that previously occupied 73 Market? Years upon years of shows, studio residents, and narratives - bits and pieces of paintings and sculptures built from scratch, the memory of performances, and the many layers of paint on the walls are just a few examples of what’s made the building what it is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Consolas; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.15; white-space: pre-wrap;">It is crystal clear to me that the space has had a profound effect on art. And, I’m pretty sure that that the art that’s been created in the building has left its mark as well. </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03401785537405729475noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-47316178227794631772013-05-09T20:12:00.000-04:002013-05-09T20:12:10.002-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Veils of Aleppo: Photos of War-Torn Syria<br />
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These are recent photographs by the photographer Franco Pagetti taken in Aleppo, Syria. Residents use large sheets to shield their homes from snipers. http://www.exposureguide.com/culture/the-veils-of-alepo-photos-of-war-torn-syria/Patricia Dahlmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06584161148612970597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-16348359927589761552013-05-01T17:32:00.000-04:002013-05-01T17:32:13.877-04:00love letter to an oil painting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />katrina bellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09685078783747369153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-66423928491364680002013-04-20T16:29:00.000-04:002013-04-23T15:41:58.177-04:00What is it like to lose oneself in the image?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>San Francisco detective Scottie Ferguson gasps and about to lose it as his dream of the ultimate beauty is about to emerge from his bathroom (Vertigo, director Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)</i></span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"It's more a nursing of an image that haunts me, and letting it sit and breed in my mind…" </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is the reply given by artist Robert Gober in a 1993 <a href="http://www.jstor.org/discover/10.2307/779236?uid=3739832&uid=2&uid=4&uid=3739256&sid=21102085961061" target="_blank">interview</a> when asked about the strangeness of his work where he sets up his sculptural objects in what he called "dioramas." Whether it is a section of a body -such as a <a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/5/56/Untitled_Leg.jpg/220px-Untitled_Leg.jpg" target="_blank">man's leg</a>- that appears to be sticking out from a white wall, a disembodied torso-like object that is <a href="http://sculptureresearch.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/9am136.jpg" target="_blank">half-male half-female</a> flaccidly propped up, or the distorted cribs that he calls "<a href="http://www.artnet.com/Magazine/reviews/mcbreen/images/mcbreen4-20-3.jpg" target="_blank">traumatic playpens</a>," I get a sense that something traumatic was witnessed or felt- so much so that no amount of verbal complexity could pronounce it, and that the only recourse is to transform the experience into a highly sensuous and physical reality. His <a href="http://images.artnet.com/artwork_images_706_615153_robert-gober.jpg" target="_blank">installation</a> of sculptured objects qualifies as that reality. And it's a reality with an overarching sense of loss.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The sublime moving image dreamed by Daria (Zabriskie Point, director mIchelangelo Antonioni, 1970)</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Daria, who loses herself in the contemplation of the sublime blow up above. </i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And so in matters concerning works of art, when I hear the word "lose" and "loss," Gober's work is the first thing that comes to my mind. But he is merely one among many artists throughout history who have broached the subject of loss. As long as radical shifts occur from one cultural, social and political movement to another, perhaps it is reasonable to think that the artist who happens to stride that shift cannot help but feel and internalize the kind of aesthetic, theoretical and symbolic earthquakes and aftershocks that come when their meaningful contexts undergo frenetic transformation. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There's Nicolas Poussin painting his "<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fd/Nicolas_Poussin_052.jpg" target="_blank">Et in Arcadia Ego</a>," living in a time of religious conflict and excessively increasing monarchic authority in Baroque France, and so his execution of this painting must be in acknowledgment of the lost virtues of the restraint, rationality and order of the classical Greco-Roman past. And of course, there's Edvard Munch who painted "<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/f/f4/The_Scream.jpg" target="_blank">The Cry</a>," one of the most iconic paintings that emerged from Modernism- an almost unbearable, anguished and visceral scream from one whose psychic life cannot cope amidst the dramatic industrialization, urbanism and resulting loss of social cohesion that defined modern life. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even I myself am implicated in the use of loss as premise for some of my own work in the past- through the subject of nostalgia and displacement- as I tried to locate myself geographically, and subjectively into the new country I had immigrated to. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dr Ellie Arroway in the moment before she loses herself, along with a lifetime of cultivated doubt, when she encounters the moving image of her deceased father (Contact, director Robert Zemeckis, 1997)</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And not to mention Postmodernism! With defining qualities such as skepticism, unease, doubt, and excessive self-criticism and consciousness, what is ultimately lost in the postmodern condition is faith. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>US Army Captain Benjamin Willard hasn't lost it yet, and contemplating but barely reaching the accurate image of the unspeakable thing that happens later (Apocalypse Now, director Francis Ford Coppola)</i></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Loss" and "lose" -not only are they carriers of negativity in the verbal sense, but even numerically. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Can "lose" and "loss" ever mean otherwise? Can their implications be reversed to potentially uphold a narrative of positivity, and in turn uphold some value that we desire to attain? </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because when values are the matter of discussion, it is "gains" and the "victorious" that we are conditioned to believe as worthy of our attention. We live in a culture fed into by the cult of the victorious, and in so far as this is concerned, anyone negating its treasured values will find themselves sectioned off into the outskirts of the glorified arena of perpetually competitive unrest. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But what if we disconnect "lose" and "loss" from its widely accepted set of implications and locate it in some place where it can, sort of, shine. On the other hand, "loss" already exists as a virtue existing with the varied scriptural, mystical and societal values of humility, charity, and self-sacrifice. So perhaps the conversation here is to carry on the idea of "loss" as a virtue with a potential force and systemic usage as that of the "victorious."</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cecilia, embodying Robby's image of desire, stand in the presence of her beholder (Atonement, director Joe Wright, 2007)</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Robby, losing it, in the presence of the image of his desire (Atonement, director Joe Wright, 2007</i>)</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Having said all this, in the impulse and the desire to lose oneself in the image, what is lost and where does the transformation lie? Assuming the image is a visual or mental embodiment of our ideals, desires, beliefs, fears, ambition and so on, and at the same time also keeping aware of the inability of the image to uphold a stable meaning, to "lose" oneself in the image would be the greatest act of blind and ultimately romantic heroism. To lose is already an act of privileging the other, perhaps out of a greater love for the other than for oneself. But to lose to something that is fleeting, something that is an abstraction, something that is a mental construction, something that may or may not exist, something whose meaning and loyalties may fizzle off or lean elsewhere- to lose in this manner is the grace through which our completion and becoming mysteriously take place in the heroic act of our forced self-incompletion. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Patrick Bateman, in the utter and complete surrender of the self to the image (American Psycho, director Mary Harron, 2000)</i></span><br />
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katrina bellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09685078783747369153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-62564810574129415392013-04-09T08:09:00.001-04:002013-04-09T08:09:42.488-04:00what can bleed through on truth?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6-kiJtFRt3U/UWQEe49ixAI/AAAAAAAAARE/6ptQ83bVpLs/s1600/bleed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6-kiJtFRt3U/UWQEe49ixAI/AAAAAAAAARE/6ptQ83bVpLs/s400/bleed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />katrina bellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09685078783747369153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-62186252278767263492013-04-07T19:33:00.001-04:002013-04-07T19:33:51.806-04:00Halsey Fabrics <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qQ2vfAmofxA/UWIAqv5TKVI/AAAAAAAABE0/3nlfiiNBBe0/s1600/Fabric.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qQ2vfAmofxA/UWIAqv5TKVI/AAAAAAAABE0/3nlfiiNBBe0/s320/Fabric.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vC5g8KwjZdE/UWIAYXgMnHI/AAAAAAAABEo/gVLFpppatiI/s1600/View+Across+the+Street.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vC5g8KwjZdE/UWIAYXgMnHI/AAAAAAAABEo/gVLFpppatiI/s320/View+Across+the+Street.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-71il7fgspYY/UWIAeQ8HSTI/AAAAAAAABEw/IE4rzWdlXRI/s1600/Jane+and+Mike.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-71il7fgspYY/UWIAeQ8HSTI/AAAAAAAABEw/IE4rzWdlXRI/s320/Jane+and+Mike.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Halsey Fabrics is located at 91 Halsey Street in downtown Newark. I work with fabric to make sculptures and whenever I was in Newark I would visit Halsey Fabrics to get inspired. When I found out I</div>
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was going to have a studio at Gallery Aferro as part of the Studio Residency Program I stopped by the store. I asked an employee there if they knew of a hardware store near by. The employee spent 15 minutes researching and writing down names of hardware stores for me. Halsey Fabrics as well as having wonderful fabric has excellent customer service. Recently I asked the employees at Halsey Fabrics if I could interview them for this blog.</div>
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I interviewed Mike whose father and grandfather started Halsey Fabrics back in 1959. Mike and his wife, Jane now run the entire business themselves. Halsey Fabrics is open six days a week from 8-4 on Monday, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, on Wednesdays from 11-4, and on Saturday 10-6. In addition to the store hours Mike works after hours to pick up the fabric at Port Newark. The store has a large assortment of fabric as well as upholstery, trim, thread, needles and anything you would possible need to sew. If you stop by later in the day or on Saturdays the store maybe crowded but unlike many other fabric stores it is organized and easy to walk around to find what you need. At the counter Mike and Jane are experts in giving advice on how much material you'll need or what color would work, and can can give you pointers on how to make your outfit, and what tools you need to use to make them. Mike told me they have many loyal customers that continue to come back year after year. The biggest obstacle though to the business is the parking situation. Mike said that people are driving into Newark now rather than taking the bus and there are few parking spaces, and you have to pay for them. People aren't willing to pay for parking and then spend a few dollars at the fabric store. More and cheaper parking would be a big help to businesses in downtown Newark. Running a mom and pop store is not easy. Mike keeps the prices as low as he can even though he has to pay higher prices for fabric. He wants to keep his customers happy. I asked Mike about the demolition of the buildings across the street and he said if they eventually have to move they will stay in Newark or the surrounding area.</div>
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<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Patricia Dahlmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06584161148612970597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-15604578303911773702013-03-23T13:13:00.002-04:002013-03-23T13:13:41.835-04:00During My Life<div class="tab-content active" id="poem-top">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Peanut Butter</span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Eileen Myles</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span><div class="poem">
<div style="padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;">
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am always hungry</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">& wanting to have</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">sex. This is a fact.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If you get right</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">down to it the new</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">unprocessed peanut</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">butter is no damn</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">good & you should</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">buy it in a jar as</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">always in the</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">largest supermarket</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">you know. And</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am an enemy</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">of change, as</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">you know. All</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the things I</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">embrace as new</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">are in</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">fact old things,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">re-released: swimming,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the sensation of</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">being dirty in</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">body and mind</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">summer as a</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">time to do</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">nothing and make</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">no money. Prayer</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">as a last re-</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">sort. Pleasure</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">as a means,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">and then a</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">means again</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">with no ends</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">in sight. I am</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">absolutely in opposition</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">to all kinds of</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">goals. I have</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">no desire to know </span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">where this, anything</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">is getting me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When the water</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">boils I get</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a cup of tea.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Accidentally I</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">read all the</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">works of Proust.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was summer</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was there</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">so was he. I</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">write because</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I would like</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">to be used for</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">years after</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">my death. Not</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">only my body</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">will be compost</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">but the thoughts</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I left during</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">my life. During</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">my life I was</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a woman with</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">hazel eyes. Out</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the window</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">is a crooked</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">silo. Parts</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">of your</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">body I think</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">of as stripes</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">which I have</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">learned to</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">love along. We</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">swim naked</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">in ponds &</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I write be-</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">hind your</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">back. My thoughts</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">about you are</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">not exactly</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">forbidden, but</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">exalted because</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">they are useless,</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">not intended</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">to get you</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">because I have</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">you & you love</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">me. It’s more</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">like a playground</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">where I play</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">with my reflection</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">of you until</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">you come back</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">and into the</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">real you I</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">get to sink</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">my teeth. With</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">you I know how</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">to relax. &</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">so I work</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">behind your</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">back. Which</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">is lovely.</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nature</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">is out of control</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">you tell me &</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">that’s what’s so</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">good about</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">it. I’m immoderately</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">in love with you,</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">knocked out by</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">all your new</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">white hair</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">why shouldn’t</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">something</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have always</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">known be the</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">very best there</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">is. I love</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">you from my</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">childhood,</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">starting back</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">there when</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">one day was</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">just like the</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">rest, random</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">growth and</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">breezes, constant</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">love, a sand-</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">wich in the</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">middle of</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">day,</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">a tiny step</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">in the vastly</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">conventional</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">path of</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the Sun. I</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">squint. I</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">wink. I</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">take the</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">ride.</span></span></div>
<div class="poempara">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Eileen Myles, “Peanut Butter” from <em>Not Me</em>, published by Semiotext(e). Copyright © 1991 by Eileen Myles. </span></span>Emmahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00975824238450378331noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-83414927681734921812013-03-22T12:34:00.000-04:002013-03-22T15:30:21.550-04:00morning hour with painting, Richter, and Mad Men<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KVE4juJ_Gl4/UUx_qKw_ncI/AAAAAAAAAQs/xk-jWe4HPCo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-03-22+at+10.13.30+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KVE4juJ_Gl4/UUx_qKw_ncI/AAAAAAAAAQs/xk-jWe4HPCo/s400/Screen+Shot+2013-03-22+at+10.13.30+AM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Still from Gerhard Richter Painting, film by Corinna Belz, 2011</span></i></div>
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<i>"It's not working." </i></div>
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It is uttered by Richter after the moment pictured in the film still. After minutes of pondering the painting in question, the filmmaker Belz asked him if it is because of the blue- to which he replies yes. </div>
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Richter is not alone in uttering this. It is a deep but chronic sigh that is emitted from time to time in the studio of every painter. These sighs are the painter's announcements that he or she is recognizing a sizable formal or conceptual conflict internal and external to a given painting. Presuming that these conflicts are upon which the painting's ability to hold itself together depends on -and perhaps conflicts for which the painting was undertaken - sighs are the decisive moments that are either followed by the painting's (or even the painter's) continuation, undoing or end. </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">Fortunately, since it is a chronic utterance, time eventually allows painters to develop strategies on how to deal with these interruptions to their practice. From my painting mentors/professors I learned to appreciate that when face-to-face with such a moment, I can consider to:<a data-mce-href="http://www.artinfo.com/news/story/870039/thomas-nozkowski-on-mysticism-matisse-and-his-dusk-hued" href="http://www.artinfo.com/news/story/870039/thomas-nozkowski-on-mysticism-matisse-and-his-dusk-hued" style="color: #0a8de9;"> A)</a> ju</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">st keep on painting;</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"> <a data-mce-href="http://hannelinerogeberg.com/" href="http://hannelinerogeberg.com/" style="color: #0a8de9;">B)</a> t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;">ry another medium so your expectations are suspended;<a data-mce-href="http://geoform.net/interviews/an-interview-with-artist-timothy-app/" href="http://geoform.net/interviews/an-interview-with-artist-timothy-app/" style="color: #0a8de9;"> C)</a> go back to that breakthrough moment. </span></span><br />
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It is this morning that I'm pondering the third one, C -going back to that breakthrough moment.</div>
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It's not because it is the most effective strategy, but because of its romance. And it's not just because painting is already tied to notions of the Romantic, but because just the word "breakthrough" evokes energy -an overt, heroic and outward energy: the energy to grow, advance and discover. At the same time it also evokes a more subtle inward energy: the energy at the beginning of something, of one's origins. </div>
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My last reason is because the idea of "breakthrough" was just confirmed in this attached TV episode of Mad Men. I was watching it together with the Richter Painting film this morning. In this episode, model-turned-housewife in the 60's Betty Draper instills to her 8-year-old daughter a lesson on the virtues and consequences of the first kiss. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--15kEoHud5A/UUyAOB3pVsI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/xQ9zPXLlgrE/s1600/every+kiss+after+that+will+be+a+shadow+of+that+kiss.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--15kEoHud5A/UUyAOB3pVsI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/xQ9zPXLlgrE/s400/every+kiss+after+that+will+be+a+shadow+of+that+kiss.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>Betty (to Sally): "…The first kiss is very special… It's where you go from being a stranger to knowing someone. And every kiss after that will be a shadow of that kiss."</i></span></div>
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As much as it made poetic sense in the dialogue in the TV episode, it seemed to also do the same to the painting practice. All I needed to do was make the word substitutions appropriate to this discussion in painting:</div>
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first = crucial</div>
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kiss = brushstroke</div>
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stranger = unsure</div>
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someone = painting</div>
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With the substitutions applied, Betty's lines would be:</div>
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<i>"...The crucial brushstroke is very special… It's where you go from being unsure to knowing painting. And every brushstroke after that will be a shadow of that brushstroke.</i>"<br />
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First kiss, breakthroughs, brushstrokes, that blue that's keeping Richter's painting from "working," and perhaps many more applicable scenarios -Betty's few lines -plus substitutions- could fit all. <br />
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<br />katrina bellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09685078783747369153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-68166048382317192622013-03-16T18:38:00.002-04:002013-03-16T18:39:38.847-04:00Lobster Lover's Dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vidIiIBq7JM/UUT0O8orciI/AAAAAAAAAW0/rufWOaVY-qk/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vidIiIBq7JM/UUT0O8orciI/AAAAAAAAAW0/rufWOaVY-qk/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Some bits from a really spot-on essay by Anton Vidokle<span style="font-size: small;">.<br /><a href="http://www.e-flux.com/journal/art-without-market-art-without-education-political-economy-of-art/" target="_blank">Art without Market, Art without Education: Political Economy of Art</a></span><br />
<br />
"It seems to me that MFA programs have become a tool of
indoctrination that has had an unprecedented homogenizing effect on
artistic practices worldwide, an effect that is now being replicated
with curatorial and critical writing programs."<br />
<br />
"Being a
professional [artist] should not be the only acceptable way for us to
maintain our households, particularly when most interesting artists are
perfectly capable of functioning in at least two or three fields that
are, unlike art, respected by society in terms of compensation and
general usefulness. I feel that we have cornered ourselves by denying
the full range of possibilities for developing our economies."<br />
<br />
"Unless
hard-pressed by circumstances, we still think that the proper thing to
do is to wait for a sponsor or a patron to solve our household problems
and to legitimize our work. In fact, we don’t need their legitimacy. We
are perfectly capable of being our own sponsors, which in most cases we
already are when we do other kinds of work to support our art-work.
This is something that should not be disavowed, but acknowledged
openly."Dahliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07062913818234259941noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-29506048404407714472013-02-22T23:17:00.001-05:002013-02-23T10:51:20.024-05:00Skin and Image<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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When the February 2013 print issue of US Vogue Magazine was
released, it included a piece on the British painter Cecily Brown. On page 259 there was a statement by Brown
that struck me. So I marked it with a pen. The quote is above. </div>
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Being a painter too, I can begin to understand what she meant.</div>
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From what I know of her work, sexuality and attraction are
dominant themes. This implies the human figure, the other most striking visual presence in her work. Whether
<a href="http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/artpages/brown_The_Fugitive_Kind.htm" target="_blank">darkly concealed</a>, <a href="http://www.cfa-berlin.de/works/zoomview/095173D65E340E63141B85918571958F" target="_blank">smothered</a>, or surfacing in <a href="http://rfc.museum/past-exhibitions/how-soon-now/artwork-images/cecily-brown" target="_blank">gooey, slippery</a> and
kaleidoscopic landscapes of oil pigments –landscapes that eventually come to
form as recognizable places like a <a href="http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/artpages/brown_Teenage_Wildlife.htm" target="_blank">forest</a> or a bedroom- the nude body or bodies
emerge, by itself or moistly <a href="http://www.nysun.com/arts/reading-between-the-linens-cecily-brown/86539/" target="_blank">intertwined</a> with another, in <a href="http://artobserved.com/artimages/2010/05/Justify-my-love-brown.jpg" target="_blank">justified repose</a> or
<a href="http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/artpages/brown_Night_Passage.htm" target="_blank">intimate pose</a>. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With such overt and unapologetic sexuality in her paintings,
at first it seems that it’s no surprise that Brown mentions the word "skin" in
the interview. But it must be more than that: such as the idea of skin as an
analogical device or formal metaphor upon where the meaningful viewing,
necessary entanglements and deep comprehension of artworks bank their premises
on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A favorite art professor of mine once wrote: “painting’s
analogy to skin is not new.” It sounds like a good place to start reconsidering Brown’s quote.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X_A04Ob_AD8/USjRcwStk4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/S2G3hQthoV8/s1600/P1170219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="112" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-X_A04Ob_AD8/USjRcwStk4I/AAAAAAAAANQ/S2G3hQthoV8/s200/P1170219.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>photo credit: Kamilla Bello</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
18 square feet –that is the measure of the skin of our
bodies. It is our body’s largest
sense organ. It is also the sense
organ that is always on, in a “constant state of readiness to receive
messages.”<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7652600869446236252#_ftn1" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[1]<!--[endif]--></span></a>
It is also the outermost boundary of our body. If put into analogy with our planet, our skin would be the
Earth’s crust: it covers the entirety of the planet, it is the last place of
contact when leaving the Earth, it is the first place of contact when meeting
Earth. But the Earth’s crust is
extremely thin- it amounts to less than 1 percent of the planet. Whereas skin amounts to 16 percent of
our body weight. This attests to
skin’s significantly concrete presence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so I cannot help but find a beautiful yet uneasy dance
between the words “skin” and “image” in Brown’s quote. To “get under the skin of an image” feels
like the equivalent of watching polar opposite creatures having a love affair that
is destined to die. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Image amasses its power in its elusive, shape shifting, and
opportunistic nature. It defies
being exclusively possessed by anybody or anything whether by time, place,
entity, language, idea, cause, or even by its object (if there ever was one to
begin with!). Whereas skin is simply possessed by one body. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The breadth of image’s reproducibility is infinite. Skin can only venture, well,
skin-deep. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The image is the flawless and timeless ideal that embodies
desire. Skin is flawed, rife with
fissures, and is in agreement with time's conditions. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The image is the “site of resistance to meaning.”<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7652600869446236252#_ftn2" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[2]<!--[endif]--></span></a> The skin is the body’s first site of
resistance. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To try to “get under the skin of an image” can only mean
subjecting the image into an embodiment that it is not constructed to be, and
implicating the skin into giving the image a surface that will only render it
penetrable. What is exciting about
Brown’s quote is the violation of image and skin’s established conditions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KDv9Wka79lI/UShAOISIcKI/AAAAAAAAAMo/tKmORDdjGts/s1600/P1160659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KDv9Wka79lI/UShAOISIcKI/AAAAAAAAAMo/tKmORDdjGts/s320/P1160659.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pJRsgHQiGIs/USiOU7Eq3WI/AAAAAAAAANA/lHLGfobFemU/s1600/P1160997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pJRsgHQiGIs/USiOU7Eq3WI/AAAAAAAAANA/lHLGfobFemU/s320/P1160997.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is with this quote in mind that I am rethinking my series
of photographs taken in certain natural environments in the Southwest and
Northeast. In it I photographed my
hands gouging through sand, grazing through snow and sleet, grasping boughs,
channeling through gashes in fallen trees, stroking the furrows of
petroglyphs. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As if my lived and sensory experiences of canyons, deserts,
forests, snowstorms, and hurricanes aren’t enough to establish my sense of awe
and wonder of nature’s otherness, I physically entwine my hands into the matter
that contain, shape and define these places- and then photograph these
acts! I am reminded of
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Caravaggio_-_The_Incredulity_of_Saint_Thomas.jpg" target="_blank">Thomas the Doubter</a> who needed to touch the wound of the resurrected Christ in
order to eradicate his doubt and establish belief in the resurrection.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can argue these photos as trying to “get under the skin of
the earth" -that they are a lesser violation or semantic conflict than trying to “get
under the skin of an image.” But
the creation of the photographic images nulls the argument. When this or that experience is
flattened into the photographic print, the sensory experience of getting under
the skin of the earth now enters the realm of the image. It is no longer about the skin of the
image, but the image of the skin. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> </o:p> </div>
<div>
<!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><br clear="all" />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<!--[endif]-->
<br />
<div id="ftn">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7652600869446236252#_ftnref" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[1]<!--[endif]--></span></a> Tiffany
Field, <i>Touch</i>, (MIT Press, Massachusetts, 2001), p. 10</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7652600869446236252#_ftnref" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]-->[2]<!--[endif]--></span></a> Roland
Barthes, <i>Responsibility of Forms</i>, (University of California Press, Berkeley,
1985), p. 21</div>
</div>
</div>
<!--EndFragment-->katrina bellohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09685078783747369153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-47067736500836474552013-02-20T20:37:00.000-05:002013-02-20T20:37:28.994-05:00Thank you Aferro!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">I want to give a big thank you to Evonne and Emma for giving me the opportunity to work at Aferro for the past six months. The residency seemed to fly by, as I was able to work on a large scale self-portrait. <div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">It was great meeting and working alongside such a talented, diverse group of artists. Being apart of such a creative environment always seems to inspire my own process.</span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">Look forward to seeing everyone at the opening this Saturday and good luck to all the incoming residents!</span><div>
<div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span></div>
</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-38802062936041022532013-02-18T11:54:00.001-05:002013-02-23T10:02:09.421-05:00That Sad Desire<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>I wish I remembered my dreams more often. Usually I feel completely tangled up in them when I first wake up. Then by the time I've had coffee and left the house I have no idea what it was all about. Here's one I wrote down before the spell was broken:</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I dreamed I was in someone’s house. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I was with a crowd of people, artists. They were interested in an artist that I know
who was missing, though there seemed to be some of his work around the room. They wanted to see his films, and found an old VHS tape of “his
movie” which I started to play for them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The movie was a long (seemingly never-ending) series of
micro-narratives, little vignettes each with a little joke as its defining
thing. The vignettes were family scenes,
in or around a working class house. The
people all wore costumes, loose, sloppy furry outfits like sad comic theme park
animal characters, big fuzzy caricatures of bears and dogs. The sense of humor in the various actions of
the figures was mildly scatological.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I paused the video to explain to the people watching with me
(who didn’t know much about the absent artist) that when he and I were in
school together, and for a while after that, he had been involved in a more
occult and different aspiration in his work, that he saw and painted ghosts and
strange spirits, but that later he turned from that and deliberately toward his idea of what is “good”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">My sense was that this film was about that turn to reach for
goodness, but that in its form and structure as well as its abject gesture’s
pathos and humor, it was helpless to not be an art better, bigger and more
basic than that sad desire.</span></div>
*http://www.blogger.com/profile/08241577590277573030noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-86063158095798343732013-01-05T22:53:00.001-05:002013-01-05T22:54:24.867-05:00Semi textI haven't blogged yet. And while there are a variety of pointless excuses for this, in reality it's because I often feel that words are my enemy. I can use them, manipulate them, choose superb specimens as an end to a means, and turn a nice phrase, but none of this matters because the WORD, language itself, is the nemesis of the image. <br />
<br />
I communicate through images, they tell my stories whether it be tattooed on my hands or painted on a piece of wood. I often want to give language to the image, but the words do not come. The words laugh at me and tell me to keep my eyes closed and then I might understand better how to transform visual into aural. <br />
<br />
It's not a dance, it's a duel.<br />
<br />
Somehow I am still possessed of this idea to write accompaniments to my paintings, even though I truly believe the paintings should tell their stories without needing words.<br />
<br />
Maybe I need the words. The WORD, to unlock all the stories in a single gush from my fingertips. Or maybe more like a flood of tears.<br />
I could be afraid of the words because they are not as aesthetically pleasing to my mind as the images. <br />
<br />
The sound of a woman wailing is the saddest thing you can hear.<br />
I think sometimes if I let the words come they will only be a formless wail announcing to anyone who can hear all of my sadness and I don't really want any of you to know about that. <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-qf6uqha9WLI/UOj1UTziXwI/AAAAAAAAABI/BruuBbKlfHA/s640/blogger-image-1835860984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-qf6uqha9WLI/UOj1UTziXwI/AAAAAAAAABI/BruuBbKlfHA/s640/blogger-image-1835860984.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17882295297174654405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-56708157747098351742013-01-05T19:00:00.000-05:002013-01-05T19:00:44.259-05:00What Were They Thinking?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aXwNlmOiTyw/UOi7zMFxxrI/AAAAAAAAACs/3j0KfWcLZKk/s1600/DSC01970.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aXwNlmOiTyw/UOi7zMFxxrI/AAAAAAAAACs/3j0KfWcLZKk/s320/DSC01970.jpg" width="221" /></a></div>
<br />
Looking at Jan Lievens' paintings from around 1631 it's interesting to wonder what was going on. Lievens was a contemporary to Rembrandt and some have confused the two over the years. I've been studying a few of his paintings and creating them anew through my eyes. My interpretation of "Boy in a Cape and Turban" above, depicts a milky faced youth, stuffed and stiff as nails, with all the pomp and circumstance of his exotic "Oriental" attire. Lievens spared no detail in his depiction of clothing and also the psychology that was going on with the subjects of his time.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07597028786918048642noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-24872445379584487482012-12-16T12:26:00.000-05:002012-12-16T12:26:12.687-05:00Brick City Project!!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rlPq0o2KlsU/UM4CFbCxqBI/AAAAAAAAACE/FI39zgtTJqA/s1600/IMAG0292-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rlPq0o2KlsU/UM4CFbCxqBI/AAAAAAAAACE/FI39zgtTJqA/s400/IMAG0292-1.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Hi all....stopping by to wish the current studio residents mucho love on their artist journey this season. <br />
<br />
Also, Brick City Project makes an appearance in Metro 29 art show still goin on now for all who havent seen. Stay tuned for more photos as i get closer and closer to completing the 1st installation of BCP....(super excited).....stayed tuned also for future appearances by other bricks as the momentum gains. Newark Museum and a few Nyc galleries are jus the appetizers for this artistic cuisine. There are big, BIG plans in the making so keep your fingers crossed and your hearts open for whats to come. Peace and Blessings....MalikMalikhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05341708950222308190noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-16992806566976180782012-12-07T18:57:00.000-05:002012-12-07T18:57:53.638-05:00Art from the Outside Looking In
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I would not consider myself someone who knows a lot about
art. I love museums and galleries and frequent them often and I’ve taken an art
history course in college (and loved it), but I don’t have extensive knowledge
or a strong contextual art background to legitimize the way art speaks to me
amongst the art community. But do I have to? I might not get it. I might see
something and say, why? But isn’t that what is most important? That the artwork
in front of me is making me think? While walking around the current show
installed at Gallery Aferro, there was art that I “got” under my own pretenses,
and there was other works that were, perplexing. Nonetheless, the space is
beautiful and the show as a whole, was provoking and inclusive to all types of
art. There is something for everyone. I think that art is a personal experience
and that everyone has their own individual connection or misconnection to each
piece. </div>
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I wouldn’t consider myself necessarily as a visual person.
When I see things, I don’t necessarily feel things. The pieces that spoke to me
the most had words and sounds, had an actual voice I could hear and read. As a
media studies major, one of the most thought-provoking pieces was located on
the floor in a black basket on the second story. Shani Peter’s <i>Reagan, The Revolution, and Me </i>explored
her own personal “socialization and understanding of blackness and family
through references to media and imagery I absorbed as a child.” Her piece
exposed how the black family was translated through media, and it was eye
opening. It struck a chord within me. I don’t necessarily know what chord that
was, but do I really have to? It made me feel. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
So who am I and what is this post all about and why are you
reading it? My name is Brady Smith, a senior at NJIT in Newark and Gallery
Aferro’s new social media intern! I’m excited to join this great group of
people and learn in this new world of art that I’ve only topically explored. So
if you see me around the gallery, feel free and say hi, or tweet me at
@smithbradym (shameless social media plug). </div>
<!--EndFragment-->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-21098325839422670322012-12-03T17:53:00.000-05:002012-12-03T17:53:29.342-05:00Mana Contemporary<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0898438); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">I had time on Sunday to take a trip to Mana Contemporary for their open studios. One of my neighbors (Frank Gavere) from Parkway Studios in Bloomfield now has a space in this Jersey City oasis. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.09375); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">
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The first floor was holding a small Keith Haring exhibition. He is an artist that I have not given a great deal of thought, but being able to see a body of work up close and personal helped give me a new appreciation. The first floor also houses an area where an artist can have crates made for their shipping needs.</div>
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I believe there are six floors to the building, but I only took a look on the 4th where it seems most of the artists have their studios. The elevator opens up to a gourmet cafe. There was a great Allison Schulnick painting hanging in the hallway. </div>
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The artists' studios varied in size with some of the bigger names having huge spaces. One artist had the biggest printers I've ever seen. There was a dance studio as well where a demonstration was taking place. </div>
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Mana is an impressive space and has every amenity an artist can imagine. I don't know if all of it is necessary, however, to do good work. It is worth a visit though; <a href="http://www.manafinearts.com/" x-apple-data-detectors-result="0" x-apple-data-detectors="true">http://www.manafinearts.com</a></div>
</span>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652600869446236252.post-77903234867597598482012-12-01T15:36:00.000-05:002012-12-01T15:36:20.669-05:00Anne Q. McKeownBesides doing her own <a href="http://www.anneqmckeown.com/index.htm" target="_blank">great work</a>, Anne is the Master Paper Maker at the Brodsky Center for Innovative Editions. Here is an <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/chika-okekeagulu/el-anatsui_b_2138712.html?utm_hp_ref=email_share#s1764018" target="_blank">article</a> about her recent collaboration with El Anatsui.Dahliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07062913818234259941noreply@blogger.com0