DUMBO Open Studios

One of my favorites from the open studios in Dumbo this weekend was The Dumpster Project. Besides giving you the feeling you were "inside a Joseph Cornell box" as my friend Cadence put it--the dumpster had a prime location, smack under the archway. And you could touch everything!

This is a profoundly pleasing installation, which is indeed inside a 'dumpster'. It contains objects both storied and mundane, historical and elliptical. The objects are bolted securely in place, creating the feeling of a kind of loony dashboard, or a control panel of personal history. Artist Mac Premo has mounted an impressive PR campaign about his project. You can take an electronic tour of the dumpster on your mobile device.

This image from Cornelia's doppelgänger II series ran with my artist profile on her a few weeks ago in the newsprint edition The Wall Street Journal. The article is only accessible to subscribers on the WSJ, so I thought I should post the text here. I link to more photos from the show, currently up at the Klompching gallery.

Into the Storm

Had a great hurricane weekend here in Brooklyn, despite the disappointment of not seeing even a stick of furniture blowing by. Went running both days, caught up with friends and worked in my studio. I had most of the day to work today, and pushed hard on some new stuff. This work I'm making right now is pretty hard work emotionally. It feels still very autobiographical and raw. I burned some things and it felt dark and vaguely like voodoo. I just hope this means the work will be cathartic, and going forward it won't be as intense.

Before Irene

Went for a run this morning with Carolyn who was visiting for a few days. The streets are eerily empty and quiet, few people, few cars. No trains or busses really seem to be running. The air is freakishly still. I now understand the phrase "calm before the storm" in a more literal way.

Carolyn just left for Maine, and I'm now getting ready to weather the hurricane at home. My house is in the white zone--well outside of flooding or evacuation zones. My brother went out to the end of Long Island and asked me to come, but I don't want to be on the roads. I think I'd better stay in case something happens to my house that needs attention. We cancelled Oliver's flight home from Oregon for today and rescheduled for after the storm. Which means I'll have more time this weekend, and during the storm, to catch up on stuff. Looking forward to that. Hopefully I'll get something done in the studio.

This is my first hurricane, but not my first tropical storm. I'm a little nervous, but I'll be disappointed if there isn't some drama in the weather when this is all done. At a loss for what photo to post for today so here's another Montauk vacation photo, when I was so relaxed and happy..

History's Shadow

David Maisel has a breathtaking brand new book called History's Shadow coming out. I'll be creating posts and an extended gallery about it on the WSJ blogs very soon, but couldn't resist showing one here! I hope to be interviewing the curator in the Getty antiquities department about the objects, and what kinds of histories are revealed by the X-rays.

Montauk Sunset

Having a great time in Montauk this week. Trying hard to take a lot of snapshots. Even allowed myself to take a photo of the sun setting. Paddle-boarding, swimming, running, story-reading..

Kyoko Hamada

I've admired Kyoko Hamada's work for years, but only recently had the chance to work with her directly on some shoots for the WSJ.

Kyoko's work employs humor and intimacy with a determined and consistent delicacy. She has a light but unwavering touch. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Flies and bows is from a series, work in progress titled Pineapple Under the Bed, and The pink bed is a photograph of Kyoko's bed in a former apartment. About her own process, Kyoko writes:

"Sometimes I photograph what I find, but more often I photograph by reconstructing images based on from memories, thoughts and observations. This process ( or some kind of a habit ) of observing helped me to understand my new surroundings when at age fifteen my family moved from Japan to a small town in West Virginia. Without having any knowledge of English, I spent my time looking and privately digesting what was happening around me through my own internal dialogue."