Want to take out your phone and text? Please, I dare you, and I hope I’m there to see what happens. Maybe Young will want to take a selfie, or share your photos, or throw your phone out the window. Anything could happen.
The work is the group; the group is the work. It is an antidote to work that devalues the human. The individual is decentralized, but not devalued.
There is no preaching to the choir when it comes to considering reparations, because there is no choir. It’s a lonely act.
Generative moments in fragmented view: a collage // “very peak summer solstice” at ISSUE Project Room
The artistic spaces that once housed me hurt me, causing tremendous trauma. This project—the second installment of “soft bodies in hard places,” “very peak summer solstice”—was a haven.
Two pieces that delve into ideas surrounding worship and identity: Angie Pittman’s “Came Up in a Lonely Castle” and Johnnie Cruise Mercer/TheREDProjectNYC’s “Process memoir 4: The word, the spirit, and Little Rock.”
And, yet, we are here, re-fashioning community and remaining soft in a building of stone. The monuments are crumbling. We can take an ax to their base or let them dissolve to the dust of their origin story.
Considerations of how to communicate certain ideas, evoke abstract affects, and share stories explicitly offer possibilities for shared dialogue.
The objects could be anything generative, and Heather’s choices are varied, sophisticated, heartfelt, and a fascinating insight into what interests this artist.
This idea of American desire and what’s encapsulated in that is this reckoning, but, also holding the truths of being white in American culture means you have to hold the history of being an oppressor. But, then, how do you hold that?
Jeremy M. Barker and Matthew Goulish discuss Every house has a door’s “The Three Matadores”
The impacts of grief, however miniscule or massive, are the focus of “Submerge 2017: Break Time”, a festival curated primarily by Ali Rosa-Salas. Interested in the ways in which “we” are “permitted” to grieve in public space and, as the curatorial statement offers, a concern on the “expectation to bounce back,” Rosa-Salas has assembled an enriching near week of events, ranging from breath work to brunch to bike rides, in recognition of the ways the personal is political; the ways we are alone with others; and the ways in which everything, art or otherwise, is necessarily interdependent.
The moment it becomes legible, it becomes something else.