Tag Archives: New Jersey City University

Noelle Theard | Photo by Christina Fallara

A group of artists and educators organized a series of photography workshops for children and adults a few months ago in the Caribbean. The workshops were set up in tent villages for displaced persons in earthquake-devastated Haiti. NJCU is showcasing 14 of the photographs produced in the workshop in the exhibition “FOTOKONBIT: Haiti Through Haitian Eyes.”

The public will be able to purchase images of different sizes. The proceeds from print sales will benefit FotoKonbit, the workshop participants, and two Haitian grassroots organizations: ORE and PRODEV. I recently caught up with Noelle Theard, one of the curators of the exhibition, to discuss the project, and the role that photography and arts education can play in empowering a community.

Brendan Carroll: Hi Noelle. Tell us about yourself? Who are you and what do you do?

Noelle Theard: I’m one of three founding members of FotoKonbit, along with Marie Arago and Tatiana Mora Liautaud. I am a Miami-based freelance photographer, educator, and artist. I teach two courses as an adjunct professor in the African and African Diaspora Studies program at Florida International University, and I also teach photography to youth at Miami’s Museum of Contemporary Art.

BC: What is FotoKonbit, and why is it important?

NT: FotoKonbit is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization and photography initiative that partners with grassroots organizations to facilitate photography workshops with communities and create a portrait of Haiti and its diaspora through the eyes of Haitian people.

Inspired by the Creole word “konbit” which can be defined as the coming together of similar talents in an effort towards a common goal, we use our skills as photographers, educators, and artists to make a positive difference the best way we know how- through photography.

By partnering with established Haitian organizations, FotoKonbit is uniquely positioned to inspire hope through creative expression and provide Haitians with the opportunity to document their reality and share it with the largest possible audience.

"Market" | Photo courtesy of FotoKonbit

BC: How were the workshops organized, and who participated?

NT: FotoKonbit workshops take place over a period of five days. We work with film cameras first, return to Miami for processing, and take the images back to the groups we work with.

When we return, we bring digital cameras for the group members to start FotoKonbit photo clubs, where they have equipment to check out for purely artistic or commercial shoots.

For the first round in May 2010, our first group was comprised of 15 adults and in the schools we worked with 30 children. We start with the basics: what is photography, how do we use the cameras? Then we move to more conceptual questions like: what is important about your community, what are your personal interests, and finally, what do you want the world to see about Haiti?

BC: What type of cameras did you provide?

NT: We used ‘Holga’ cameras. Originally created as the “people’s camera” in 1980s China to bring photography to the masses, they are inexpensive and have a wonderfully artsy aesthetic. They use medium format film, and the images created are square.

"Tent City'' -- Photo courtesy of FotoKonbit

BC: The workshops were organized in Camp Perrin and Port-au-Prince. Why did you choose these locations?

NT: We partner with Haitian grassroots organizations whose work truly inspires us.

In Camp Perrin we had the great privilege to work with an organization called ORE that focuses on sustainable development and agriculture. ORE and its director, Mousson Pierre, are highly respected in the community, and have made incredible efforts to aid the displaced people from the earthquake that devastated Port-au-Prince.

Several of our adult participants were among these displaced people, and have been working to forge their lives in this small southern town. The quality of life in Camp Perrin is wonderful – fresh water, a strong agricultural tradition, and a close-knit community. Still, there is very little work, which makes it hard to resist the lure back to the destroyed capital.

In Port-au-Prince, we worked in the Peguyville neighborhood with PRODEV who is providing education to more than twenty-five tent cities across the city. They have recently opened a permanent school called “Novelle Ecole Zoranj” where FotoKonbit will be regularly teaching a photography curriculum.

The children were wonderful, excited about photographing, since most had never used a camera before. They took to it immediately, walking around the neighborhood and making photographs of the things that were important to them.

"Waterfall" | Courtesy of FotoKonbit

BC: I recently oversaw a series of community-based art-making workshops for children and adults in Harlem. The children jumped in headfirst. The adults were wary-and the adolescents were much more so. How did the participants respond to the project, and what type of reactions did they have after they saw their photographs in print?

NT: The adults were much more serious in their approach – this was a serious endeavor that required intention and concentration, and the results were really stunning. For the most part, each frame was carefully composed and thought out. The kids were much more carefree, shooting a roll of film in just a few minutes! All the photographers were of course thrilled to see their work.

BC: Did you show examples of other photographers for the participants to model their pictures on? For example, Expanding the Walls, a program organized by the Studio Museum of Harlem, use the photographer James Van Der Zee as a study model to help guide novice photographs.

NT: To inspire the students we showed work from previous workshops that I have done with grassroots organizations in Miami in a project called the Galeria del Barrio. In the curriculum we are building, we will incorporate great photographers like the ones you mentioned.

"Family'' -- Photo courtesy of FotoKonbit

BC: Some people do not like to have their picture taken. How did the communities of Camp Perrin and Port-au-Prince respond to the photographers?

NT: People responded well, especially because in most cases, they knew the person behind the camera. Sometimes the photographers were denied by people who did not want to be photographed, but overall, people were very open. We talked about strategies for making portraits, and told them what we have learned as photographers ourselves: never take it personally when someone says no.

BC: The photographs produced in the workshops will be on view in the exhibition “FOTOKONBIT: Haiti Through Haitian Eyes” in the Harold B. Lemmerman Gallery at NJCU. How did the exhibition come about?

NT: Deborah Jack is a great photographer and professor at NJCU, and we know each other through Rosie Gordon Wallace, who is the director of the Diaspora Vibe Gallery here in Miami. She put me in touch with Midori Yoshimoto, who has done an amazing job of organizing the exhibition.

BC: Will any of the children and adults from the workshops make it over to the exhibition?

NT: The photographers will see the images in our Haiti exhibition in March, but won’t be able to travel to this exhibition in the U.S. We will document the opening with photos and video and send it to them.

"Dog'' -- Photo courtesy of FotoKonbit

BC: I visited the project’s Web site. The photographs taken in Camp Perrin and Port-au-Prince cover a range of subject matter, and convey a warmth and gentleness rarely associated with Haiti. I love the image of the dog in repose on a backyard patio. This picture is quiet, warm and unsuspecting, and reveals a sense of whimsy and mischief. What’s your favorite photograph in the series, and why? What does it reveal about Haiti, and the person who took the photograph?

NT: My favorite photograph is the market, because it looks like a Haitian painting! I also love the photograph of the man fishing in the lake, holding a bright yellow bucket, and looking right into the camera. The setting is so beautiful, and the image so subtle. The photographer, Smith Neuvieme, is a wonderfully perceptive, thoughtful, and endearing person. When we asked him to tell us about this picture, he said he wanted to show how different people work, what people do to get by. Smith is one of the people displaced by the earthquake from Port-au-Prince and is adjusting to life in Camp Perrin.

"Girl With Shower Cap'' -- Photo courtesy of FotoKonbit

BC: My other favorite photograph is the portrait of the young girl standing in a lot in front of a cinderblock wall covered in graffiti. She is about eight or nine. There is a slight bounce in her pose-one leg is in front of the other. A satchel is draped across her shoulder, and she is holding the straps in both hands-maybe she is on her way to school. Her outfit is smart: gingham shirt, skirt, white socks, and red show cap. This girl has sass, and she has both feet on the ground. I detect a small grin on her face. Does she know the photographer? Is it someone in her family?

NT: What a great reading of that photograph! Yes, she knows the photographer, it is one of her young classmates at the school in the Peguyville neighborhood.

BC: As I began to write this Q+A, I did an image search of Haiti in Google. The results were dominated by images of devastation. The audience can expect to see a radical different Haiti in the exhibition. What types of photographs did you choose, and why?

NT: We chose photographs that spoke to what life is like in Haiti, especially the day-to-day. Many of the Haitians in diaspora that have seen the photos have said that the images make them nostalgic for home. Other people who are less familiar with Haiti have been surprised by the abundance of food at the market, or the enormous waterfalls and lush vegetation. The images challenge negative representations of Haiti by simply portraying reality – that’s a pretty powerful thing!

BC: What I know of Haiti is limited to popular media. Haiti is the poorest country in the Americas, and has recently suffered innumerable tragedies-including a Cholera outbreak, a 7.0 earthquake, and several tropical storms. Despite these severe realities, the participants produced a series of photographs of extreme softness, poise, and beauty. As I sat writing I realized that this is one the first times I have encountered Haiti from the point of view of a Haitian. Can you speak about the importance of giving Haitians a stage to share their experience, strength, and hope?

NT: Rather than being represented by outsiders, FotoKonbit participants are using cameras to imagine the new Haiti by representing themselves, their lives, their interests, and values. Not surprisingly, the result is radically different from the stereotypical images we see of Haiti as portrayed by the media. Here, in these FotoKonbit images, we see community, family, life and all its joys and difficulties, but above all, we see dignity.

"Boys'' -- Photo courtesy of FotoKonbit

BC: Have you kept in touch with any of the participants in the workshops? And do you know what they are up to now?

NT: We have kept in touch with all of the participants. The adults in Camp Perrin have decided to start a FotoKonbit photo studio, and the students are now out of the tents and in a permanent school called Ecole Zoranj.

Original post may be found here.

If you go

WHAT: FOTOKONBIT: Haiti Through Haitian Eyes
WHEN: Through Dec. 14
WHERE: The Harold B. Lemmerman Gallery, NJCU, 2039 Kennedy Blvd. Hepburn Hall, room 323
DETAILS: Curated by Noelle Theard, Marie Arago, and Tatiana Mora-Liautaud

Related topics: haiti, jersey-city

jose rodeiro | courtesy of parida suwannewisch

Over the centuries, flesh has enticed artists of every kind — painters, sculptors, and photographers — to capture its essence. From the Venus of Willendorf to Lucian Freud, artists have responded to call, depicting every part of the human body, from the infirm wattle of an old man’s turkey neck to the taut muscles of young boys in Caravaggio paintings.

And now flesh is the subject of a big new exhibition, Flesh Art, at New Jersey City University (NJCU). The show is curated by NJCU art history professor José Rodeiro (at right), and it features the work of 12 artists, including Joan Semmel, Ben Jones, Babs Reingold and Jen Mazza.

“The premise of the show is that human flesh can be an aesthetic motif on its own,” Rodeiro says. “I hope that those who attend the exhibit will leave with a renewed perspective on what flesh is and what it can mean.”

Rodeiro told us more recently as he made some final preparations for the exhibition, which has its opening reception this Thursday.

William Coronado

Matthew Lahm

Tell us more about the show, and how it came about.

I first became involved in Flesh Art by viewing and considering the artworks and the ideas of Matthew Lahm, when he was still one of my graduate students. His extraordinary work and ideas intrigued me.

For example, at the current show, you will see a ten-foot painting called Body View 1, which depicts part of a human body. By only showing a small part of the body within ten foot surface, the image is utterly mysterious, because the model’s identity, gender, and the actual part of the body displayed are unknown. Through this unusual “hyper-figurative” approach, the flesh itself becomes the subject of the work.

Suddenly, I realized that Lahm was part of a coterie of urban artists who used flesh/skin as their primary subject matter via this ambiguous visual-artistic handling of the body that I called “flesh art;” I began to notice a trend in contemporary metropolitan-area figurative art traceable to pioneers like Joan Semmel.

In the early 1970s, Semmel created innovative flesh-based paintings, which made her a pivotal figure in the development of flesh art. She seems to have influenced numerous artist like Lahm, Coronado, Cruz, Sandra Silva, Mazza, and Rogeberg, and others, whose images echo many tendencies found in her work. We are fortunate to have three never-before-seen paintings by her featured in the show. Flesh Art points to what I think is an evolution in 21st Century figurative art and where it can go in the future: amplifying parts and fragments of figures as subjects in and of themselves.

Hanneline Rogeberg

John Hardy "Church on 31st St"

Jen Mazza

Joan Semmel | Body and Sole

What is attracting this new generation of figurative artists to investigate flesh, and why now?

Perhaps it is that cosmopolitan artists feel that their core humanity is under attack from hyper-technology, fanatical dogmas, war, economic uncertainty — and perhaps that art itself is under threat.

Who is in the show, and what can viewers expect to see?

I have already discussed Joan Semmel and Matthew Lahm. Also featured are NJCU’s eminent retired professor Ben Jones, who is a prominent figure in African-American art, and NJCU professor and acclaimed sculptor Herb Rosenberg. The exhibition includes works by Rutgers professor and internationally active painter, Hanneline Rogeberg. There are strikingly visceral installation and multimedia works by Babs Reingold of Bayonne; intimate oil paintings by Jen Mazza of Brooklyn; cityscapes incorporating flesh in media by acclaimed painter John Hardy of New York; and video art by Giuseppe Satta of Italy. Furthermore, there are exceptional and distinctive images of human flesh (and innovative flesh-based compositions) by three other exceptional and gifted emerging artists (and like Lahm, NJCU alumni) Williams Coronado, Sandra Silva and Olga Cruz.

Willem de Kooning, Woman, I, 1950-52, oil on canvas

As soon as I heard the title of the exhibition, Flesh Art, I pictured the painting Woman, 1, by artist Willem de Kooning. When I mentioned the name of the show to my girlfriend, she assumed it was of tattooing.

This is merely my own aesthetic-opinion, but I do not immediately think of human flesh or skin when I see de Kooning’s Woman, 1. De Kooning’ s paint-application is very sensuous, which is the only thing about his work that I consider to be fleshy.

Honestly, tattoos are not an issue in the current Flesh Art show, because tattoos modify, hide, or visually change flesh and skin. Thus, tattoos tend to transmogrify, decorate, camouflage, or they add ancillary symbolic iconological meaning to skin, which distracts from the actual tone, texture, and fleshiness of “natural” skin or flesh.

I had another thought nipping at the heels of Woman, 1, and it was pornography. “Flesh Art” sounds dirty, and I ashamed of myself for thinking in this manner. As an artist, I like to think of myself as progressive, tolerant, and open-minded — but occasionally I am not. Did you intend the title of the show to be provocative or am I way off base?

The original intention of the Flesh Art show was never to be pornographic or provocative, [but] it could come across that way because flesh can be so taboo. The title is merely descriptive and represents 12 exceptional artists who exalt in seeing and depicting human flesh — artists who are fascinated by human flesh – as human flesh. In my opinion, none of the selected Flesh Art artists pander to prurient interest nor do they endeavor to arouse lascivious curiosity.

Lisa Yuskavage, Day, 1994, Oil on linen, 77 x 62 inches

Terry Rodgers, Continental Drift, 2006, oil on linen, 152cm x 229cm

JOHN CURRIN, Rotterdam, 2006, Oil on canvas, 28 x 36 inches

So, according to your definition, flesh art would not include painters such as Lisa Yuskavage, Terry Rodgers, and John Currin? Am I correct?

Yes, because flesh art is far more concerned with mysterious parts of bodies, instead of full-figure grand-manner depictions. Flesh art is not concerned with scintillating and pseudo-pornographic calculated depictions of hyper-seductive, manipulated, erotic and embellished dehumanized figures.

The nude is the foundation of Western art. However, as an Irish-Catholic male born and raised in a modest ranch house in New Jersey, I am not wholly comfortable with the human body in a state of undress—unless I am watching two men inflict and take punishment inside a boxing ring. What do you hope the viewer takes away from the work in this exhibition?

Within the context of art history, representations of human figures in the nude or naked are recurrent subjects. In fact, the history of art is saturated with astounding depictions of flesh from Classical Greek and Roman antiquity; Hindu and Buddhist artistic traditions; or as exemplified throughout Western art from the Renaissance onward. As a theme in art, unclothed human subjects are widespread and rooted deep in art history.

The artworks in the Flesh Art show describe the body as a medium through which the mind thinks and feels. As a result, flesh art imagery presents human skin/flesh as a layer through which the human body meets the world in which it lives. Hence, according to this view, people (in every way) truly inhabit their skin. Moreover, on a visceral level, both affectionate people as well as sadists are drawn to flesh, erotically desiring the skin of others. Therefore, both the human body and its flesh are noetic or intuitive vehicles for processing and possessing existence. Thus, skin functions as a “self-reflecting” subject that reaffirms and embodies the self, as a mirror image of our “being.” As the old-adage warns, “Beauty is only skin-deep.” Likewise, skin — as the largest organ of the human body — encases the body.

Art history is stacked with men. As a viewer, I have usually seen flesh — usually the flesh of nude women — depicted by male artists. Do female painters approach the body in a different manner than their male counterparts? If so, what does their work communicate about the body?

The old distinctions and obsolete hegemony between male artists and female artists are not central to contemporary flesh art, since most 21st Century urban pioneers of flesh art have been women artists. Yet, the key issue is that flesh art does not depict the full grand manner figure. Despite historical figural traditions that reveal nude or naked human bodies from head to toe, 21st Century flesh art images often portray only portions or sections of human bodies wherein strong emphasis is placed on ample corporeal surface-effects that meticulously define each body’s accentuation of flesh (or skin). Generally, the sheer veneer of flesh is not the main aesthetic focal point; instead what is often stressed is the exterior fascia, revealing a modular or sectionalized surface façade that may well be smooth, sinewy, vivacious, undulating, rough, coarse, or expressing countless other surface possibilities (even within one piece). Consequently, each work offers a crucial section of a human being’s body.

Babs Reingold "Hung Out No4"

De Kooning once said, “Flesh is the reason oil paint was invented.” For me, oil paint is particularly suited to capturing the vivacity of flesh. However, not all artists use oil, and not all artists paint. Artist Babs Reingold is featured in the exhibition. She has used encaustic, silk organza, animal skin and human hair in her installations. What can other mediums communicate about flesh that oil paint cannot?

The diverse artists exhibiting in the Flesh Art show do not exclusively rely on oil paint to attain their facsimiles of flesh or skin, although several do use oil paint. On the other hand, the show also features artists working with charcoal on skin, scratching and machining onto aluminum, using photography or doing wet-acrylic colorfield-painting like Ben Jones — or like Babs Reingold, using encaustic, silk organza, animal skin and human hair. The multimedia nature of the show broadens the artistic examination of human flesh on many levels.

Art has the power to reveal our uneasiness about the body. Does art that reveals our uneasiness about the body have the power to heal it?

I think there is an element of redemption of flesh in this NJCU exhibit, in that flesh art liberates the nude from social presuppositions, prejudices, and peripheral narratives that can taint our points of view about it. Flesh Art shows how artists can communicate a variety of meanings through flesh, which are simultaneously experiential and conceptual. Human skin/flesh is our connection to the world and — as a person living in the world and as a person devoted to art — pondering the significance of this “natural” bond to me is valuable and worthwhile.

Original post may be found here.

Linda Casbon

Clay has arrived. Painting’s dead. White is the new tan.

Artist Linda Casbon didn’t have time to heed these silly pronouncements. She was too busy working in the studio and getting ready for her exhibition at the Arts Gallery at New Jersey City University. The show, “Translations,” runs until Dec. 15.

I recently caught up with Linda to discuss the show, her studio practice, and how she continues to work while navigating the turbulent waters of the economy.

Hi Linda. Tell us a little bit about yourself. Who are you, what do you do, and where is your studio?

Hi Brendan. Hmmm, who am I is such a big question. I am an artist and teacher. I have lived in Brooklyn for over 10 years, and it is where I have a studio. An important part of my identity is my years as an army brat who moved from place to place. It was exciting and challenging and created a sense of restlessness and impermanence that is still with me.


Do you think your experience as an army brat influences your work in the studio today? If so, how, and in what way?

Not in particular although there is one piece in the show that is somewhat inspired by Yap currency. I have a memory of seeing Yap currency as a small child when we were stationed on an island in the South Pacific. It always struck me as such a strange idea because the currency is a big stone wheel and the bigger it is the more it is worth. It seems like an absurd notion of value.

Ceramics is your primary medium. Why did you choose ceramics, and what place does it have in contemporary art?

I took a ceramics course in high school and loved the medium. It is an approachable material in terms of its humble origins. I love the fact that it can be used to create anything from a cup and saucer, to a sculpture. There is something subversive about its status as what is sometimes seen as a lowly, or lesser art, that I respond to.
A few years ago there was a large exhibition of ceramic work created by artists whose primary medium isn’t clay. “Clay has arrived” was the declaration. This was amusing to me. There is, and has been a lot of great ceramic work out there, some of which is exhibited in major galleries. I see ceramics as a medium that can and has been used for a variety of means of expression including cutting edge design and conceptual work. Its place in contemporary art is the place of any other medium.

LINDA CASBON, Pillows and Landscape, ceramic with steel shelves, dimensions vary

As an artist, I think it’s important to learn how to identify between legitimate and illegitimate criticism. How do you stay in the game when your medium is not the soup du jour?

It is important to acknowledge criticism and think it over before dismissing it. Usually there is a grain of truth to it. One can’t afford to be blown around by prevailing winds of what’s current and what’s not. In the end it comes down to focusing on your own ideas.

Your approach to the medium strikes me as unconventional. As I looked at your work, I could not stop thinking of painting. I envisioned the work of Milton Avery, Brice Marden, and early Terry Winters canvases. What role–if any–does painting play in your work?

Your question is on target. Painting is a primary source of inspiration for me, whether it is Giotto, Thomas Nozkowski, or Terry Winters. It is not that I want to make paintings, but I want my work to capture the illusory quality of the paintings that I respond to. I am very interested in the differences between two-and three dimensions. I see two-dimensional images as being fleeting and illusory, whereas three-dimensional objects are concrete and real – like the difference between the shadow cast by a tree (illusory) and the tree itself (real). It is interesting to merge these two worlds.

You received a Bachelor of Environmental Design from University of Colorado. Has environmental design played a part in your development as an artist? If so, how?

I majored in Environmental Design because it seemed like a practical way to pursue my interest in art. It was a pre-architecture major, and I think it has influenced me in a variety of ways. Certainly in my thinking about the importance of the placement of objects relative to one another and how this can create meaning.

You quote Paul Valery in your artist statement. Who is he, and what does he have to do with the objects that you make?

Paul Valery was a French poet and philosopher from the early twentieth century. I read his often quoted aphorism, “seeing is forgetting the name of the thing one sees” in a book about Robert Irwin’s work, and it seemed to capture what I was thinking. I am more interested in things sensed and felt rather than identified and named.

Let’s discuss your exhibition Translations in the Visual Arts Gallery at NJCU. How did the exhibition come about?

A colleague suggested that I submit images to Midori Yoshimoto, the gallery director at NJCU and the exhibition proposal was accepted.

LINDA CASBON, Cages and Three, ceramic, dimensions vary

What work will be on view, and why should people come see it?

The show will feature primarily new work – ceramic sculpture – with a recent interest in the materiality of clay. The work is abstract and loosely based on the idea of a Zen garden; not in a literal sense, but in the notion of a variety of different elements that work together to form a complete idea. I don’t see the work as an installation, but as a group of objects that work together as a whole.

I think that people should come see it to gain a different perspective on what ceramics is.

I was a museum educator in a previous life. When I gave tours of exhibitions, I noticed that contemporary art had the occasional tendency to confound people. What type of advice would you give to a person engaging your work for the first time in the gallery?

People are often uncomfortable with the unfamiliar – there is an adjustment period. I don’t think that one needs to understand work to appreciate it, but if they can look for elements that they relate to it is a good beginning.

In addition to being a studio artist, you are also a professor. When I was in art school, I was self-absorbed, dim, and reactionary. I had such a narrow opinion of ceramics. I took one pottery class in my freshman year, and dropped it. I continued to hold my narrow viewpoint until I took a class senior year in hand building with artist Lizbeth Stewart. She opened my eyes to the possibilities of the medium, and what I could actually create in clay. Have you ever encountered a student like me? If so, how did you open the student’s eyes to the limitless possibilities of the medium?

Ah yes! I think I’ve met your likes before … On one hand, ceramics is a great introduction for non-art majors. It affords a kind of soft entry into self-expression, perhaps less daunting than a painting class because of its ties to function. But sometimes art majors view it as a lesser art form. In some ways your question holds the answer. Clay offers limitless possibilities. As a teacher encountering a student such as yourself my goal is to get you to think about how the medium can be used in a personally relevant way for your own expression. Too often, ceramics is put into a box of preconceived notions. I want you to think about how you can push the material to your own ends.

LINDA CASBON, Ribbon, ceramic piece, 32"x 12"x 24"

This question is a departure from the other ones. The economy is in the dumps. Unemployment is hovering around 10 percent. Across the country, art museums, cultural centers, and commercial galleries are shuttering their doors. Has the economy affected your practice as an artist? If so, how has it, and what steps have you taken to neutralize the economic downturn?

For better or worse my artwork has never been a large part of my income. Here is how I have been affected by the downturn: During the economic boom developers went wild, and I had to leave my inexpensive studio when it was turned it into a condo. Rents have continued to rise, even in today’s economic climate, and it is very daunting. I don’t know how to deal with the situation. For now, I’m hanging on like everyone else.

What is up next for you?

It is very motivating to put work together for a show and it feels like a beginning rather than an end. I feel like I’m just getting going in the studio. I have thoughts of incorporating moving images as part of the work. I imagine fuzzy images taken from a moving car: trees and the shadows they cast.

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