Now: Here: This September 9, 2005

(scroll right to walk through the exhibition)


Stephen Beveridge
Washington Heights, New York City and Hemet, California

Prayer of New Orleans

I needed to create a piece for the Square Foot Show at Art Gotham and all i could think about was New Orleans.  I collected some images of New Orleans street people and collaged them on a prepared canvas.  Each night I soaked the whole thing in water and each day dryed it out and worked on it.  When i saw the orange marks on the doors from a NY Times article I knew the piece was finished

Miriam Leuchter
New York City

The Dance

Sometimes you just have to whirl around and let go.

New York City

Kin 1 & 2
digital photograph and collage

I was in Sonoma County, California visiting my brother and his 2 dogs, Biff and Bowie. I have one of the best brothers in the world, how did my parents manage that? Biff [pictured] did not really want to get on the car [1957 Cadillac Coupe de Ville or not], but would do just about anything out of love.

My sister and cousin's family and a friend of ours were there for the cook-out. There were 5 dogs, which helped me realize we have replaced our parents, aunts and uncles. There I was, swapping recipes with an artist friend who was wearing a floppy gardening hat, petting the children.

Peter Ferko
Washington Heights, New York City

Door: Max Protech
digital photograph

On my mind:
so much art
so many galleries
My wife bristles at the word a_t anymore--so many claims and so much nothing
so glad to know so many people who's process and work are not bullshit
yet the sheer quantity and the tenuous link to "value" is still unsettling me. Do we need one more post-ironic-porn-nation-cosmological-pop picture? Regardless: it's coming.

I saw so much good visual art and performance this week. Like tall trees in the bush. Gives art a good name...

Marlena Kudlicka
Stuttgart, Germany

adobe illustrator animation

the place where I stay is translucent one. no matter if this is the new or old. nothing seems to be the same. back&forth&&forth.
all the layers are compressed once. they are just soaked with different tint.
the only wish I have is to stay with the glowing one.

click here to see this piece

Harold Wallin
Anchorage, Alaska & Washington Heights, New York City

monoprint, 8" x 16"

My mind is occupied with the thoughts and feelings welling up from the unfolding disaster on the Gulf coast. I'm moving through all the various stages of emotions. From a state of disbelief I am now tremendously angry at the incompetence of the federal government. It is shaming to see what we've come to, to see the wall of lies constructed over the the last five years come crashing down so hard and causing so much suffering. There are consequences for lying but again the wrong people are being made to pay.

Nick Holliday
Great Barrington, Massachusetts

left behind

I make my collages from old materials, books and magazines damaged, forgotten, and left behind. This one I made from an accumulation of scraps. The process generated more scraps, of course, which I still can't bring myself to throw away. I will hold onto them for later, as though I might somehow suspend the inevitable.

Renee Watabe
Verona, New Jersey

Dream Four: Mother with Babies
(oil on panel)

~She was in the hospital bed holding the warmth of her new baby boy against her. She sniffed the musky scent of newborn skin and delighted in the yielding limbs that curved perfectly against her soft body. There it was – the pure animal joy of a suckling babe. The woman purred. Looking down, she suddenly knew that this baby and her husband were one and the same. In a sudden shift, white-coated doctors quickly strode to the bedside and took the baby from her. “He’s not breathing,” one of them said. She knew her baby was dying, and in moments, would be dead ~
The woman woke, sobbing. She sat up and looked: there he was, right where he was supposed to be, sound asleep. She didn’t care how he treated her; it didn’t matter to her, as long as he was here, right where he was supposed to be. She felt the urge to rock him the way she had rocked his sweet baby self in her dream, and to protect him, at all costs. She wrapped her arms around her sleeping husband, holding him dearly, desperately, pressing her wet face against his shoulder. He was accustomed to this woman doing things he did not understand, and didn’t want an explanation, certainly not in the middle of the night. He half opened one eye and pulling away from her, turned over and went back to sleep.

Tim Folzenlogen
Washington Heights, New York City

untitled comic strip
pencil drawings

click here to read the strip
(This is a serial strip that continues from last week)


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