Save the drama fo yo mama and Artist Statement

I apologize for the melodrama of that last post, and for the general tone of this blog sometimes. I ran into several frustrating exchanges, both personal and work-related, in the span of a couple days and I threw up that little note at 5:30 am after tossing and turning for a couple hours. I thought I might take it down in the morning, but I decided a long time ago that I shouldn’t take down anything I put up, even if I must apologize for it in the next post, as I often do. I have to remind myself that everything I have written did feel entirely honest to me at the time and there is value in that, even after the feelings have passed.

And of course, as I admitted in the last post, silence has never really been a part of my nature, so I think I’ll get back to it.

Either way, I’m going to have to hold off of posts of actual substance until after next Tuesday, after the final show is over. Things have been crazy over here– even Derya is staying up til 4 am! Nicholas sometimes doesn’t go to sleep until 4 pm the next afternoon, and I suppose I am somewhere in the middle. I am still not sure I am going to get it all done.

For now, I thought I’d share with you my unabridged artist statement (I will have to shorten it considerably for the show). Enjoy this uninterrupted block of text, because although that has been my jam lately, after Tuesday I will post the pictures of my work that I have been witholding this entire time.

Artist Statement

My most recent work explores the concept of place, and the abstract and sometimes contradictory ways that a place succeeds or does not succeed in constituting a home.

My recent and temporary relocation from New York City to Spartanburg, coupled with the fact that I may not return there has led me to question the definition of home in fundamental ways and has contributed to an overwhelming feeling of homelessness and displacement. Each project I have embarked on this year has been influenced by these feelings; each attempts to assess and define the qualities of home.

The series of 51 small reverse glass paintings “I’m Not Here,” began with the simple desire to become better acquainted with Spartanburg. Coming from New York, I had a strong sense that one should get to know a place by foot. I began a series of undirected, unplanned walks around the area. I called the walks dérives, based on the theories of the Situationist artist, Guy Debord, about how we should approach the cities in which we live. Many times, I did not bring a camera, but rather used my camera-phone if I was surprised by something worth photographing. It was on these dérives that I began to identify and photograph the small beauties of Spartanburg— abandoned industrial and commercial structures, old cemeteries, and brilliant sunsets. This process affirmed a sense of home and place in the form of my developing Spartanburg aesthetic, in the choices that I made for which images begged inclusion in the painting series. The result, somewhat unintentionally, is a series that highlights not only my enjoyment of a new and different landscape, but also the anxiety and alienation that these solitary and depressed landscapes reflected in me.

Marquees also became a part of this Spartanburg aesthetic and I became interested in the ways that they are used, especially by the faith community, as a legitimate means of communication. It has become clear to me that there are regional differences in communication style and I have often been frustrated by an inability to effectively communicate with the Spartanburg community in a meaningful way. This series combines my delight in Spartanburg’s marquee landscapes, the underlying feelings of anxiety and melancholy that accompany my search for home, and the need to relate these feelings using a local communication tool.

While focusing on my new home in Spartanburg, I could not help but incessantly invoke my old home, New York, with a great sadness and nostalgia. I have been plagued by the feeling that I have left some of the most vital parts of myself in New York. I chose seven places in the city that held the most meaning for me and then wrote letters to each of those places, discussing their role in my life in New York as well as my decision to bring that particular life to an end. These letters were handwritten onto scrolls and inserted into glass vials, which in turn, are each held in one of my vital internal organs. These organs will be installed clandestinely in the places that the scrolls correspond to, in hopes that they might be found and read by current residents. It is a very literal way of leaving a piece of myself in my old home and, at the same time, making sure that I can never really leave, and that I will always retain a presence there.

The projected slideshow, “On The Way from Nowhere, Elsewhere” is comprised of pictures taken on the highway on the way back from the Charlotte airport. These drives, whether I am leaving Spartanburg to go to one of my former homes or returning from those visits, are always mired in a certain amount of emotional baggage, marked by a hazy sense of uncertainty and expectation. I intend for the images taken en route to induce a similar form of emotive contemplation, as well as a fuzzy sense of wonder.

Through these projects, I aim to create a conceptual home in many diverse places simultaneously.