Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow (2004-2008)
Emphasized by the speed at which information travels around the world, news qiuckly becoms old; part of a vast repository of things that we collectively know but easily forget. At the same time, the present of our lives presses on, consuming our energies with day to day experience. While past and present vie for attention, future constantly looms; in plans, predictions, projections, and premonitions.
This body of images is an attempt at reconciling these competing temporalities. Using a cell phone camera, I have been photographing images from the front pages of newspapers, my own young children, animals in captivity, and other situations mundane and dramatic.
Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow is an installation of large format digital prints made from these photographs taken with a cell phone camera. These low resolution digital files are adjusted and enlarged, emphasizing their origins and the process of absorbing information through media (old and new) and experience.
This project was presented at M.Y. Art Prospects in November 2008.
Winter, is a personal response to the overwhelming and emotional nature of the current political climate. Using the structure of the seasonal cycle as an organizing principle, it is a document of public and private events that are intertwined and inter-related. Using digitally printed imagery and text, Winter combines original images of seasonal local landscape, political protest, and the birth of a child with texts of newspaper articles, descriptions of weather, and appropriated news images.
This installation seeks to create an atmosphere of thought and reflection on the gravity of the times in which we live and the personal relationships and responsibilities we all share.
Winter is a 7’ x 21’ wall installation of ink jet prints on paper, tiled and printed in a style referencing billboard design. This scale and format emphasize the physical relationship between the viewer and the continuous onslaught of visual, emotional, and political information we receive. It was exhibited at SPACES gallery, Cleveland in the Spring of 2005.
All of the Tears (2005)
A collaboration with Erika deVries, All of the Tears was performed at FIVEMILES gallery in Crown Heights Brooklyn on September 16, 2005. Visitors had the opportunity to wash the ink from a series of images depicting recent and historical catastrophic events, wrap the washed image in a piece of blue fabric, and tie the image to a series of cloth strips hung across the facade of the building. The images depicted scenes of organized human cruelty including; torture at Abu Ghraib, the New Orleans Superdome in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, civillian victims of a car bomb in Iraq, civilians murdered by the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia...
This project arose from feelings of anger and helplessness upon seeing the images of prisoners tortured at Abu Ghraib. It sought to create dialog and a sense of communal mourning for the loss of human digninty and lives at the hands of governments and other power hungry groups around the world.
While living near the Brooklyn Navy Yard, I found myself often walking past a prison located nearby. The juxtaposition of my freedom of movement with the state of confinement that existed on the other side of the walls struck me in a powerful way, and inspired this piece. This notion gained even more power in the political climate of the U.S. after September 11, 2001. As hundreds of immigrants were rounded up and held in prison, often in solitary confinement, with no formal charges being brought against them and without any acknowledgement by the government of who exactly has been held, the sense of arbitrariness of confinement became even more acute.
Using original screen printed imagery, neon sculpture, and glass, this installation creates a space that is simultaneously comforting and disquieting. Testimonies and stories of some of those held in detention are interspersed with images of the exterior the Metropolitan Detention Center, Brooklyn NY (where INS detainees have been held), in an attempt to give voice to those behind the walls. Across the gallery are two images of cherry trees in blossom, interspersed among lists of headlines from the New York Times – creating a space for contemplation among the overwhelming onslaught of information. On the floor of the gallery are a grid of 12” square glass panes – to be walked on, or avoided – drawing attention to the viewer’s physical presence and participation in the unfolding events. Watching over the scene is a cool blue neon sign that reads simply; breathe.
Our Grief Is Not A Cry For War (2001)
In the days following September 11 2001, an ad hoc group of New York artists developed the performance "OUR GRIEF IS NOT A CRY FOR WAR." During these performances, up to 175 artists stood together silently for one hour, dressed in black, wearing dust masks and signs reading, "Our Grief is Not a Cry for War." This performance was first done at Union Square in New York City on September 22, 2001 and was performed twice more at Times Square during the following weeks.