ARTWORK
I began photographing How Do You Want to Be Seen? at the start of the pandemic. At first, I used gay dating apps to connect with potential collaborators. As the Coronavirus pandemic has become endemic – and now Mpox, too – I’ve expanded recruitment to social media, word of mouth, and sometimes I invite participants just by asking them. I relinquish claim of sole authorship in order to give people in positions of marginality the power to control their own depiction. Since many do not have Art & Design training, my role is to be both a photo technician and a careful listener, extensively brainstorming with each collaborator to reach consensus on the image we create together. Every photograph is paired with a quotation from the person seen in the portrait, which is part of their answer to the question posed in the title of this series. The captions are sometimes written entirely by my collaborator, and other times I work with them to concisely piece together insights they’ve shared along the way.
Archival Inkjet Print, 24” x 30,” edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2022
“In the history of Western portraiture, subjects that look like me feel few and far between. If we do appear, we are either opiated monsters or orientalized pearls adorning the neck of empire. What does it mean to turn my curved back on that gaze, to defiantly return that gaze? Can a disabled body of color – with its queer and curved contours – have an erotics on its own terms?”
– Travis (he | him)
Archival Inkjet Print, 24” x 30,” edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2022
“Walking in the woods feels like passing through a portal, a doorway to another realm, a world of wonder, wood nymphs, fairies, magic, and a bit of spookiness. To balance my life in the noise and concrete of the city, I go to the woods whenever I can to experience its magic.”
– Robert (he | him)
Archival Inkjet Print, 30” x 24,” edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2022
“A long time ago I spent an evening with friends envisioning our ideal futures. I wanted to feel excited about my work and about my city. I wanted to love what they had to offer and to see growth potential. I wanted to find and cultivate a community of folks passionate about local art and business and mutual aid. And I wanted it all to be within biking distance. About five years later I’m proud of the choices that brought me here, of the life I’m building for myself, and of the future I get to be a part of.”
– Corey (he | him)
Archival Inkjet Print, 30” x 24,” edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2022
“When I was younger I embraced my idiosyncrasies, played them up to protect myself, to express my otherness, to feel strong, confident, and powerful; but, when people get to know me they talk about how I shine, how I transform darkness into light. I am creative, compassionate, HIV-positive, worthy of love, and capable of loving. Sometimes I may stand in the shadows, but I always reach towards the light.”
– Jay Christopher (he | him)
Archival Inkjet Print, 24” x 30,” edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2022
“There’s this notion of Eurocentric beauty that plays in the back of my head, but there’s a deeper richness to my blackness and my queerness. It doesn’t matter how many rallies you attend or if you put that Black Lives Matter sign in your window. You can’t truly relate to my experience, and I’m grateful that it’s all mine.”
– Jehdeiah (he | him)
Archival Inkjet Print, 30” x 24,” edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2021
“When I’m in an opposite-sex relationship I occasionally enjoy closetedness, like when I’m in the presence of police, passing a Gurudwara, at the nursing home, or using a public toilet. Imagine, it feels like Halloween but the calendar says it’s March 17th. That’s how it feels, the lack of acknowledgement of my wholeness. I despise the disapproving faces (inquisitive perhaps) of metro riders. They feel like voyeurs watching deaf folks arguing in sign language. Maybe I’d feel more seen if I had a short brush cut?”
– Nadia
Archival Inkjet Print, 30” x 24,” edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2021
“Los años pasan y veo como mi cuerpo va cambiando. La testosterona comienza a descender para dar paso a la andropausia. Una nueva etapa, ese proceso desconocido para los hombres. Hoy decido habitarlo de manera consciente para estudiarlo, sentirlo y aprender. Será el nuevo material de trabajo como educador para crear los espacios de educación y acompañamiento a masculinidades en deconstrucción.”
– Heriberto (elle | él)
Archival Inkjet Print, 30” x 24,” edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2021
“Growing up in Tennessee in the 1970s as the son of a Baptist preacher, the world was binary: right or wrong. Now, many miles and years away from there, I’m more comfortable in my own skin. I have the freedom to be myself and enjoy all the hues and shades between black and white.”
– Jeffrey (he | him)
Archival Inkjet Print, 30 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2021
"I live in a body that barely tolerates solid foods, even in small amounts. Everything I do here, from up-cycling nutrients in the soil to growing my own food is about survival. And it's also about joy. The youth workshops I facilitate are how I will help the next generation adapt and survive our climate crisis.”
– Jim (he | him)
Archival Inkjet Print, 24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2021
"I feel comfortable in front of the lens, and I have some experience posing for other artists. I’ve always been thick, and I think that’s part of what makes me sexy. It’s important for people to see creative erotica that affirms non-normative and gender-queer body positivity.”
– Dan
Archival Inkjet Print, 24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2021
“No me defino, al hacerlo no sería nada. Soy como la esencia de la vida. ¡Fugaz! Libre como el viento, claro como el agua y cálido como un amanecer. Estoy en todas partes, brindado lo mejor de mi. Sentirme vivo, ‘aquí y ahora’ es una de las mejores locuciones para estar presente. Seremos vistos por los actos que dejamos y huellas que marcamos.”
– Charles
Archival Inkjet Print, 30 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2020
“I came out when I was 11. I’ve experienced homophobia, but I haven’t had the same struggles as my friends from older generations. More often, I feel like I’m tokenized when teachers or administrators expect me to represent entire communities.”
– Gabriel Rosario (elle | ella | él)
Archival Inkjet Print, 30 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2020
“My cis-gendered appearance affords privilege that leaves me feeling conflicted. On the one hand, I don’t deserve any more consideration than anyone else. On the other hand, if I’m feeling unsafe or threatened, I’ll fall back on my apparent normativity to protect myself from harm.”
– Juanki
Archival Inkjet Print, 30 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2020
“It’s taken me a long time to accept certain things about myself.. It’s not like I’ve arrived there -- treating myself with loving kindness -- it’s kind of an ongoing practice.”
– LuCho (elle | él)
Archival Inkjet Print, 24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2020
“When people say, ‘You’re like an artist,’ I try to accept the compliment but it bothers me. I’m not ‘like’ an artist. I am an artist. My mediums are hair and makeup.”
– Pablo Enrique (él)
Archival Inkjet Print, 24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP, 2020
“Neurological conditions require a great deal of self acceptance, and although it is not the same, I can empathize with my patients’ process because I had to learn to accept my own queerness.”
– Miguel
To see view the exhibition catalog, PLEASE CLICK HERE.
To see the project page for How Do You Want to be Seen?, which includes quotations from each of the portrait collaborators, PLEASE CLICK HERE.
I invite people of all ages to share their insecurities, anxieties, and strengths, without fear of judgment. Using ordinary objects and our own bodies we create totems or perform new rituals for the camera, to help us venture into a shared dream space. Sometimes we appear together in the images, and other times one of us is seen alone. We make empathic connections with one another, and by extension with the viewer. Sexuality, fantasy, desire, and decorum inform the recorded interactions. The resulting works depict moments that are at once seductive and repulsive, both familiar and strange. My collaborators are named in the titles of the images, and I am grateful for their willingness to confide in me and trust the process.
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2019
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2019
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY GWEN SINGER
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY STEPHANIE DEMER
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY AUDREY RYAN
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY HUGH COYLE
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY MOLLY AUBRY
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2015
CLICK HERE TO LEARN MORE ABOUT JOHN’S WORK
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2015
CLICK HERE TO LEARN MORE ABOUT DAVID’S WORK
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2015
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY TIMOTHY HUANG
Video, 0:52 seconds, (CLICK HERE TO VIEW VIDEO)
2018/ongoing
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY LESLIE SILLS
Archival Inkjet Prints
Diptych, 20 x 24 inches each, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2014
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY COLLEEN TOLEDANO
We tell the same stories over and over, repurposing the players to create new meaning but often the older associations remain close to the surface. Taking my cues from metaphors and symbols seen in ancient mythology, renaissance painting, TV commercials, drag performances, and contemporary politics, I undermine the power dynamics and roles that exist within depicted relationships to remind the viewer of familiar stories, but also to challenge expected meaning.
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2015
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2015
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2015
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2015
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2015
Fujichrome transparencies in light boxes
Triptych, 4 x 5 inches each
2012
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2011
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2011
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 36 inches approx., edition of 5 + 2 AP
2009
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2010
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2010
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2008
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2008
For this project, I had four days of nearly unlimited access to the Drake Well Museum and Park, a celebration of the history of petroleum managed by the Pennsylvania Historical & Museum Commission. I researched and reflected upon events that occurred in the places represented by the various displays, and then I documented the performative interventions I staged there to queer the spaces and complicate the triumphant narrative of oil told in many of the permanent exhibitions. Four of the five images were acquired by the Pennsylvania Historical & Museum Commission and are now on display at the Drake Well Museum with the accompanying captions, included in this portfolio.
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
In Invocation, the artist depicts themself as Pandora, the first human woman created by the gods at the behest of Zeus. Just as Pandora opened a container releasing all the evils of humanity, the figure in this photograph operates a machine to raise oil out of the ground. Is it an elixir or a curse? The Pandora myth is a theodicy, an attempt to answer the question of why a good god would permit evil.
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
Nostrum shows the artist standing on the edge of a creek drinking oil, with a large Standard Drilling Rig in the background. Oil has transformed human life in almost every aspect, but what effect would literally drinking it have on a body? Petroleum is acknowledged as both miraculous and poisonous, challenging us to examine the effects the oil industry has had on our health, the soil, air, and waterways.
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
Fractured Fairytale (Work) shows a contemporary oilfield worker, a very different figure from the 19th century oil baron portrayed in “A Vision.” At the time this image was created, the oil industry was in the middle of a boom, rapidly creating new jobs in the Dakotas and other areas around the country. While many of the jobs offer a high rate of pay, the work is dangerous, lonely, and contingent upon wild market swings. Whole towns, like Pithole, PA, may spring up seemingly overnight only to be abandoned months or years later, when the market – or the well – dries up.
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
In A Vision, a robber baron is momentarily entranced by visions of wealth, even though that fortune is built upon a shell game called, externalization. Since producers of petroleum are not liable to pay the current and future costs of climate change and aquifer contamination, these do not contribute to their costs. The price of a tank of fuel doesn't include the cost of the wars fought to secure it, highway construction and maintenance, and the clean up of oil spills and micro-plastic pollution. Because of externalization, fossil fuels are ubiquitous and relatively cheap. Oil, natural gas, and coal power our transportation systems, electrical grids, and factories. The owners get rich, and we all pay the price.
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2016
Over a Barrel shows the 19th century oil baron portrayed in “A Vision” after losing everything. Humanity stands to lose a lot more than just our shirts as our we turn earth into a greenhouse gas chamber. The effects of climate change are already obvious as the human population climbs to 8 billion. We now face the near-term threat of mass extinction thanks not only to overpopulation, but also to the grave ecological shifts created by an economic system that relies on taking hydrocarbons from underground, burning them, and releasing carbon dioxide waste into the air. We have, at our own peril, changed the chemistry of the planet’s atmosphere and oceans while simultaneously farming, developing, and otherwise altering over 75% of the planet’s land.
In the summers of 2013 and 2014, I was Artist-in-Residence at the Baldwin Reynolds House Museum in Meadville, PA. Operated by the Crawford County Historical Society, the residencies provided nearly unrestricted access to the historical interiors and landscapes surrounding the house. I researched and reflected upon the historical events, functions, and rituals that occurred in the various rooms and grounds, and then I documented the performative interventions I staged there in order to draw connections to older, archetypal stories. I continued my explorations of hidden desire, fantasy, and power play, while creating narrative moments for the camera.
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2013
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2014
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2014
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2014
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2014
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2014
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2013
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 20 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2013
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2013
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 + 2 AP
2013
I explore urban and rural spaces, hidden in plain sight, where people gather to drink, use drugs, and have sex. Only those who can read the subtle signs know that these are places to go to get what they’re after. In some cases, the interior spaces are personal to me, places where I once arranged surreptitious encounters. I sometimes use the diptych format to force syntactic or connotative relationships between images, projecting fantasy and queerness onto otherwise uncharged spaces.
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2008
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2008
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2008
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2009
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2009
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2009
Archival Inkjet Prints
Diptych, 20 x 16 inches each , edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Prints
Diptych, 20 x 16 inches each, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Silver Gelatin Prints
Diptych, 16 x 16 inches each
2004
Many of my images are staged in small towns in upstate New York and Northwestern PA, in historic, wealthy homes and gendered quarters, full of the detritus of patriarchal colonialist decor: taxidermied animals, solid hardwood furniture, and precious antiques. Others show more modest homes and roadside scenes of commerce. My interest in American Vernacular grew under the mentorship of one of my graduate professors, photographer Jim Dow, and continues as I observe lifestyle choices of those who live in rural areas.
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2009
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2011
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 24 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2011
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2012
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 36 inches approx., edition of 5 +2AP
2008
Archival Inkjet Prints
Diptych, 16 x 20 inches each, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 24 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 24 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2004
In this project, I mine layers of non-verbal social interaction by performing for the camera. Though the places shown in the images do actually exist, my work occupies a space between fiction and fact. The work is autobiographical to some degree and imaginary to another. The interior spaces reflect the inner spaces of emotion, subconscious and intimacy.
I inhabit multiple personae, playing many roles, so what at first appears to be subjective and personal also functions as cultural commentary. Familiar consumer objects and costuming paired with incongruous settings and situations hint at a desire for normalcy while undermining the very idea of what is normal.
While some of my personae wander into urban settings, their rural roots are apparent. My deep, almost romantic reverence for “nature” is a crucial tool I use to lead viewers into a world only I can see. It’s an, idyllic, rustic, compulsive, gratifying world. The images sometimes provoke humiliation and fear while simultaneously eliciting pleasure and erotic joy. I often use my own body as an object of desire, placing the camera’s gaze squarely on me while also focusing on our tendency to fetishize just about anything considered to be “beyond normal.” The world is fraught with latent desires, compulsory roles, and social dynamics, and I feel like it’s my job to expose them. It’s not enough for you to be the viewer/voyeur. I work to get under your skin, and to make you laugh, even if I make you uncomfortable.
The work ranges from the simultaneously homosocial, homoerotic and homophobic, to the patriarchal and historic. Once it is clear that I appear repeatedly, I work to ensnare the viewer in a psychological space of projection, memory and identification. I am consciously using thinly-veiled, humorous allusions to sex both to uncover mainstream homoeroticism and also to undermine myths of heteronormativity.
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2008
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 50 inches approx., edition of 5 +2AP
2008
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2010
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2009
Archival Inkjet Print
24 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
40 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2007
Archival Inkjet Print
40 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
40 x 30 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
30 x 40 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 24 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2006
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2005
Archival Inkjet Print
11 x 14 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2004
Archival Inkjet Print
11 x 14 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2004
Archival Inkjet Print
11 x 14 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2004
Archival Inkjet Print
11 x 14 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2004
Archival Inkjet Print
14 x 11 inches, edition of 5 +2AP
2004
Chromogenic Prints
10 x 8 inches each
2004
I take portraits of those who identify as being part of subcultural groups (LGBT people, off-the-grid homesteaders, steam engine geeks, and collectors of all kinds) because I’m interested in how we find, form, and sustain communities.
Archival Inkjet Print
10 x 10 inches, edition of 5
2019
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5
2010
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5
2011
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5
2010
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5
2012
Archival Inkjet Print
20 x 16 inches, edition of 5
2011
Silver Gelatin Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5
2012
Silver Gelatin Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5
2012
Silver Gelatin Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5
2012
Silver Gelatin Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5
2012
Silver Gelatin Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5
2011
Silver Gelatin Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5
2011
Silver Gelatin Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5
2011
Silver Gelatin Print
16 x 20 inches, edition of 5
2011
Works in this section do not fit neatly into any one category. These are experiments, and the results of playful collaborations with friends and colleagues. Further information is provided in the image captions.
Video, 7:25 minutes (CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE VIDEO)
This was a fun weekend, collaborating with colleagues and students to create this video for the 48 hour film festival at Allegheny College. We were provided with props (rainbow plastic slinky and colorful plastic balls), a line of dialogue (It wasn't like this before), and a set of parameters: http://www.48hourfilm.com/en/filmmaking-rules
Latex, Acrylic, and Black Powder on Canvas
9' x 6'
CLICK HERE TO SEE CELLPHONE VIDEO
CLICK HERE TO SEE SLIDESHOW
CLICK HERE TO SEE WORK BY GWEN SINGER
We made a representation of the confederate flag by stenciling the stars and bars with black powder (musket propellant) on a flat black ground. We did not burn the flag, but instead we lit the powder to draw the image onto the canvas. We've been watching our neighbors in Meadville decorate their homes and cars with new confederate flags, and while some say it is about southern heritage, the history of slavery is an inextricable part of this symbol. The flag may signify rebellion against authority to some, but its display is felt as a micro-aggression by many people of color. We considered that as we made the flag black on black, because historical constructions of "blackness," of 3/5-ness, of human beings as other people's property are the reason the south declared secession. We considered the history of the civil war as we used a modern approximation of the material that was used to propel bullets on battle fields. We thought about how the recent yankee appropriation of the flag seems to be wrapped up in right-wing distrust of government regulation and declarations of allegiance to second amendment rights. We alluded to Independence Day fireworks, and the spectacle of small-scale pyrotechnics that are a part of our nationalistic celebrating. We hope to raise a lot of questions. We are not trying to silence anyone who feels they need to display this flag, but we are calling them out and demanding intellectual honesty.
A sculptural paper work I made for an exhibition with Combat Paper. By working in communities directly affected by warfare and using the uniforms and artifacts from their experiences, a transformation occurs and our collective language is born.
Artist Nathan Lewis lead veterans and other workshop participants in a week-long paper-making and bookmaking workshop. Participants will reclaim their uniforms — which were cut up, beaten into a pulp, and formed into sheets of paper — to collaboratively create works of art which were shown in conjunction with artworks made by national and international artists on sheets of combat paper.
I used my sheet of combat paper to create a sculptural representation of an Improvised Explosive Device (IED) going off at ground level. IEDs have been a significant cause of American casualties in the ongoing wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, etc.
A small, sculptural artist’s book I made in 2011 for the traveling exhibition, “Made To Move.” The image is taken from a profile photo on a gay social media/dating site, and is drawn with a series of holes poked into the paper.
5”x5”x5,” Pierced, folded paper, board, string
Inside, a pink triangle is suspended with white cotton string.
Cotton T-Shirt, Floral Foam, sprouted Kentucky Bluegrass seed
A living sculpture I made for a fundraiser at Artists Image Resources (AIR) in Pittsburgh, PA. Participating artists were provided a t-shirt, and we were charged to respond to our assigned shirt in order to create a new work.
The shirt I was given was emblazoned with FFA, which stands for Future Farmers of America. I decided to grow Kentucky Bluegrass on the shirt, the one single “crop” grown more than any other in the USA, making a kind of hairshirt for an aspiring farmer.
This still image (which can also be seen in MIRRORED STAGE, documents a durational performance I displayed at GASP Gallery in Brookline Massachusetts. A man enters from the right, carrying a clipboard with papers attached, and hands it to the man seated at the desk. The papers contain the names of American military personnel who died while serving in the current conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. The man at the desk uses disappearing ink to record the names on paper tags, and then hands them off to be strung-up on the ceiling. The paperwork is shredded after the names are recorded.
I left supplies in the gallery and prompted visitors to don the coat and perform the task of transcribing, shredding, and hanging tags. I went in once a week to refresh the clipboard, transcribe, hang, shred. The names came from a website that tallied coalition casualties in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I counted the dead American troops. I realized that no one was counting the Iraqi and Afghani casualties. As I worked on this installation I thought about who has the privilege to be counted, and whose lives seem to matter more. I thought about redaction and white washing and secrecy and cover-ups.
The seemingly interminable rows of rounded tags hanging overhead remind me of the tombstones rising from the ground at Arlington cemetery. When the show opened there were 3400 American fatalities. At the end of the exhibition I titled the piece, “4000 and Counting.” Thanks to Susanne Slavick for encouraging me to submit this project to 10 Years and Counting, where it was featured in 2011.
