10 April - In Memory of John McCracken

LAUNCHPROJECTS - John McCracken, a West Coast artist based in Santa Fe, New Mexico known for bright, lustrous, minimal sculptures died on Friday in New York. He was 76.

I do not remember the first time I experienced John McCracken’s sculptures. It was most likely at James Kelly Contemporary in Santa Fe. I can not recall the specific colors of the works or how they were placed within the space. I do know that they haunted me for days following the show. In that rare and remarkable way that precious few works of art function, his sculpture shifted the way that I experienced anything that was even peripherally visually related. Whether it was a sumptuously painted lowrider in Northern New Mexico or a Donald Judd sculpture at Pace Gallery in New York, McCracken's sculptures changed the way I observed the world.

McCracken once stated that his “tendency is to reduce or develop everything to 'single things' — things which refer to nothing outside [themselves] but which at the same time possibly refer, or relate, to everything." His work was a whisper in a cacophony of voices, and the simplicity and elegance of that intention leaves an enduring and singular impact.

Artdaily.org described his sketchbooks which shed significant light on “both personal and speculative observations about the function of art. Ranging from one-word statements to several pages of commentary, his notes were frequently inspired by ancient history and paranormal meditations. These facilitate a parallel understanding of his works, as evidenced in a passage from 1966 on the reflective, even surfaces of his sculptures: “if the viewer is in motion, the sculptures become in a sense kinetic, changing more radically than one might expect. At times, certain sculptures seem to almost disappear and become illusions, so rather than describing these things as objects, it might be better to describe them as complexes of energies.”

McCracken's work gave the art world elegant, minimal, infinite objects of art. In the words of a mutual Santa Fe friend, “Not only was he a great and unique artist, but he was a thoughtful, kind and subtle soul.”

23 March - Richard Prince + Appropriation

LAUNCHPROJECTS - On Friday, March 18 2011, U.S. District Court judge Deborah A. Batts ruled that Richard Prince infringed upon the copyright of photographer Patrick Cariou when he appropriated 41 photographs from Cariou's book of photographs of Rastafarians in Jamaica titled Yes Rasta (PowerHouse Books, 2000). Prince altered these images for the exhibition Canal Zone at Gagosian Gallery in New York City.

Judge Batts rejected Prince’s argument that the images were appropriated for “higher artistic use,” noted that allowing copyright to be infringed solely on this claim would in practical terms eliminate copyright protection altogether. The court further found that Prince's motive in copying Cariou's photographs was primarily commercial, citing the fulsome proceeds from the exhibition, described in court documents: Prince made 29 "Canal Zone" artworks, with all but one including imagery from Yes Rasta. Gagosian sold eight of the works for a total of $10,480,000, with the gallery taking 40 percent of the proceeds. Seven more "Canal Zone" paintings were exchanged for unspecified artworks, valued between $6,000,000 and $8,000,000. Almost $7,000 worth of catalogues were sold.

Batts further ruled that Prince showed "bad faith" when he appropriated the images without attempting to license them properly and also found Gagosian Gallery liable for Prince's infringements, on the grounds that the gallery should have ensured that Prince had the rights to the material he used before the gallery offered the items for sale. Prince and Gagosian were ordered to cease exhibiting and promoting the series, and in an intriguing addition ordered that collectors of any "Canal Zone" paintings are not lawfully allowed to display the pieces they purchased. What a bizarre position for a collector to be in – surely there will be backlash for that judgment.

Charlie Finch of Artnet wrote a fantastic and ironic piece addressing Cariou's search for justice, Prince's effortless (lazy?) successes, and how Finch imagines this ruling to play out (in Prince's favor, of course):

“Having a judge as an interpreter of the meaning of art remains Kafkaesque: we can trot out the entire oeuvre of Andy Warhol, Robert Rauschenberg and a thousand other artists as violators of Judge Batts' standard. But what of photographer Cariou? Is he not an artist, as well? There is undeniable schadenfreude in seeing Prince suffer, notably when his "Canal Zone" show was one of his laziest (but wasn't that the point?) and a best seller at high retail price points. Indeed, Judge Batts decreed that, absent a stay for an appeal from the defendants, Prince's work from the series and the tools used to make it should be obliterated in some way in the next 10 days, with those paintings already sold forbidden from being (literally) hung on the walls. Presumably, Cariou will have to go after their owners specifically.

Rough justice might demand that Cariou himself do the destruction and that Prince photograph the process and produce a new, very ironic series that would sell for tens of millions apiece. But this proposal enters a metaphysical plain of justice and recompense apparently beyond the scope of the law.”

30 Jan - In Memory of Dennis Oppenheim

LAUNCHPROJECTS- Dennis Oppenheim, Conceptual artists, pioneer of earthworks and body art who made "made emphatically tangible installations and public sculptures that veered between the demonically chaotic and the cheerfully Pop," died on Friday in Manhattan of liver cancer. He was 72.*

We met him just once at Alanna Heiss' home at a dinner for James Franco after an opening at Heiss' latest venture since P.S.1, Art on Air. Oppenheim was clowning around in Heiss' bedroom in front of one of his works of art. He was charming and silly - almost giddy - and befriended us immediately upon learning of our mutual friend in Santa Fe, Thomas Ashcraft. Sitting in the room with such an iconic and fascinating artist who challenged so many notions and definitions of art throughout the decades I had to keep reminding myself that this accessible prankster was THE Dennis Oppenheim. His work can be tough to pin down and describe, so I will use the words of Roberta Smith for the New York Times:

"Many works involved moving parts, casts of animals (whole or partial), upturned or tilted building silhouettes and sound, water and fireworks, which on occasion prompted unscheduled visits by the fire department....He first became known for works in which, like an environmentally inclined Marcel Duchamp, using engineers' stakes and photographs, he simply designated parts of the urban landscape as artworks. Then, in step with artists like Robert Smithson, Walter De Maria and Lawrence Weiner, he began making temporary outdoor sculptures, soon to be known as land art or earthworks.

...Mr. Oppenheim's art-making could seem simultaneously driven and lackadaisical, fearless and opportunistic. Few of his contemporaries worked in a broader range of mediums or methods, or seemed to borrow so much from so many other artists. His career might almost be defined as a series of sidelong glances at the doings of artists like Vito Acconci, Mr. Smithson, Bruce Nauman, Alice Aycock (to whom he was married in the early 1980s) and Claes Oldenburg."

Oppenheim stands out for his impact and wholly original - often inconceivably rigorous - works of art in an era of artists who continually challenged the definitions and status quo of the traditional art world. He was one of the greats.

IMAGES: Oppenheim, "Device to Root Out Evil in Canada" 1991, Oppenheim at Heiss house (in front of his piece), 2010.

*Quote also from Roberta Smith, New York Times

27 Jan - William Burroughs: A Man Within

LAUNCHPROJECTS - I just returned from the documentary William Burroughs: A Man Within at the Center for Contemporary Arts. Having read and appreciated Burrough's writing, I knew just enough about his life to admire him as both literary and cultural icon. I had no idea that among other things he was the gun-obsessed grandfather of the punk rock movement.

The film includes interviews such notable rebels as John Waters, Laurie Anderson, Peter Weller, Patti Smith, Iggy Pop, Gus Van Sant, and Sonic Youth (just to name a few) and explores how the Harvard educated heir to the Burroughs’ adding machine estate struggled throughout his life with addiction, companionship, and tragedy. One of the stunning revelations in the film is that in an altered state and quite young Burroughs accidentally shot his wife in the head in Mexico City while demonstrating his "William Tell Act". To add to his wife's death, his son Billy died of acute alcoholism at the age of 33 in an effort to gain the approval and attention of his otherwise occupied father.

Larger than life, Burroughs took every drug available and was addicted to "junk" most of his life. He was also a pioneer of the queer and drug culture in the 1950s and was unquestionably a literary genius. In an article for Drone Magazine, an unattributed writer states that "Burroughs was a man who still continues to defy categorisation, in his work, personal traits, lifestyle and aesthetic. It’s this point that makes him -- to this day -- the most dangerous cultural figure of the last hundred years (if not longer)".

Burroughs once stated “what can seem negative can become valuable for a writer." He found inspiration in that dark side - addiction, death, guns, anarchy. He was the poster boy for the tortured genius and it is no wonder the likes of Kurt Cobian, Frances Bacon, Andy Warhol, and Patty Smith held him so dear. Burroughs also opened the door for experimental writing, homosexuality, and the awareness of drug addiction in the United States. Burroughs changed US laws on censorship with the publication of Naked Lunch and inspired an entirely new genre of musical expression - punk. In all of his danger, edge, and iconoclasm, Burroughs effectively paved the way to a more open cultural space in the politically conservative climate of 1950's America.

"You know, they ask me if I were on a desert island and I knew nobody would ever see what I wrote, would I go on writing. My answer is most emphatically yes. I would go on writing for company. Because I'm creating an imaginary — it's always imaginary — world in which I would like to live." - William Burroughs

Images: William Burroughs with Mick Jagger and Andy Warhol, on the shooting range.

24 January - Ruscha and Truitt on art

LAUNCHPROJECTS - In her journal Turn, Anne Truitt travels to Europe to experience first-hand the masterpieces that she had for 62 years seen only in reproduction. Her descriptions reveal a perception that extends far beyond what most people experience when looking at art of any type, let alone masterpieces that have been reproduced to the point of cliched posters used to decorate college dorm rooms. Truitt experiences a profound synesthesia of sorts, and through her descriptions I felt as though I was experiencing each picture anew through her acuity and perception. Truitt's description of simply entering the Louvre for the first time is astounding, "screams of terror overlaid by screams for blood echoed through corridors dimensionless as those in nightmares, ironically lined with art of such authority that I stood as much aghast as dazzled."

Truitt goes on to describe Van Gogh, Monet, and Manet: "Van Gogh's insight is relentless. No matter what the literal subject matter of his paintings, their content, implicit in brushstroke and color, is the interpretation of good and evil rendered transcendent by way of his art... Monet's utter mastery of atmosphere is akin to my own preoccupation with color as a form of an imminent truth otherwise inaccessible. He achieves it stroke by stroke; I attempt to catch it by way of superimposed films of inflected color. Manet's Le Dejuner sur l'Herbe and Olympia are shocking paintings. I felt my bones shake."

I could transcribe half her book to include her descriptions of Delacroix, Cezanne, Gericault, Gauguin, Giotto, Piero, Botticelli, Caravaggio, Rubins, and more. My mind was engrossed in her descriptions, wondering if she were unique in her ability to see and perceive artwork in a wholly original and heart-wrenching way when I came across Ed Ruscha's recent description of his ongoing experience with John Everett Millais' Ophelia:

"I first saw Millais' Ophelia (1851-1852) when I came to the UK in 1961, and was struck by its originality. It's hard to explain what I first saw in it, but it was a moving picture to me and so realistically painted. I guess I had a fondness for all sorts of Pre-Raphaelite images back then, a feeling which subsequently passed, but the nature of this painting stayed with me. It holds true today as one of the most profound paintings of that period.

At first I didn't delve too much into the story and the symbolism behind it. I viewed it strictly as a picture - how it was composed and so on - but later I learned that it had been studied and analysed by so many people, which made it even more interesting. Every little blade of grass and plant has been botanically identified. Someone has discovered almost exactly where Millais set up his easel by the river. Some believe there is a skull hidden in the painting (just to the left of the forget-me-nots on the righthand side). The painting itself is like an embellishment of the Ophelia story in Shakespeare's Hamlet. The fact that she was portrayed as a mad woman during Millais' time was, I guess, considered unsuitable subject matter. You did not paint mad people. However, when I look at the woman in the water there, I don't see a mad woman. I see a tragic woman.

I would never realise that this painting would affect me the way it did. Ophelia became a trigger in my art; an inspiration for what I'm doing. You notice here you are looking at the woman from an oblique angle - in a sense, it's an aerial view. The diagonal of Ophelia in the water is an aspect that was made for my work. My study of art and much that came out of it is ordered on that thinking that you look at something almost as if it were a table-top arrangement, as you can find in Ophelia. I regard a lot of my paintings and even photographs (such as Thirtyfour Parking Lots, 1967) as off-springs of this painting. For example, Los Angeles County Museum of Art on Fire, painted from 1965 to 1968, has a similar angle to that of Ophelia - looking down on it from above. Also, the tragic circumstances of a situation in my painting are told, I think, in a very bucolic and pastoral way, just as they are in Millais' picture.

The composition of Ophelia is very simple, and yet so complex for what it is saying. And it evolves right into my thinking. When I make a picture that might resemble it, I'm not doing it on purpose. It's just happened from years ago seeing Millais' image. I don't get this response from any other of his paintings that I've seen, but with this one he hit the nail on the head.

Of course, my pictures and Ophelia are very different in intent and content. They are worlds apart in so many ways: Ophelia is in the grand tradition of English painting, and the story goes back to Shakespeare, whereas Los Angeles County Museum of Art on Fire goes back to 1968 and, you could say, is the culmination of commercial America. But pictorially they are connected. They are like brother and sister. I feel as if there is a little silver thread between that painting and mine. So maybe the years between the works are not that distant.

In some ways I think that I am looking at myself when I am looking at Ophelia. So each time I come to London I feel an obligation to see it, but it is an obligation I feel good about."

I am inspired by the way Ruscha and Truitt look at and describe art, by the way pictures affect them profoundly - to the core of their art making practices. This perception is extraordinary and changes the way art history functions within the contemporary dialog. Masterpieces come back to life through their contemporary progeny, contemporary works disclose predecessors that no curator or art historian might detect. What a different course students of art history might take if it were taught through the lens of those who incorporate the lessons and works of the past into their innovations of the future.

Pictured: John Everett Millais Ophelia, 1851-1852; Ed Ruscha Los Angeles County Museum of Art on Fire, 1968

21 January - Anne Truitt, TURN

LAUNCHPROJECTS - I am in the process of reading Anne Truitt's book Turn. Captivated with her work since I encountered First years ago (pictured above, left), I have since wanted to know more about the woman who made these pared down, elegant, powerful sculptures. Turn is a graceful journal of her thoughts and views on life, art, family, aging, and humility. I will blog more about specific sections of her writing - as with Weschler's stunning biography of Robert Irwin this is a book that I am reading slowly to take each word and insight as deliberately as it is written.

Her 5th of January, 1984 entry discusses meeting two curators from the National Gallery to discuss the cleaning of her sculpture Spume which had become dirty since it was acquired in 1972. She describes revisiting Spume after so many years, "one hundred twenty inches tall by 25 1/2 inches wide by 13 1/2 inches deep, luminescent blues and violets, it loomed over me. I straightened up to face it. In the first second of looking, I did not recognize it as my own work and only felt its presence, with an involuntary shudder. I was so taken aback that I rocked on the feet. 'What on earth - ?' were the first words that came into my mind, along with the very particular sharp tension I sometimes feel when I am making my work: as if I were being forced face to face with a mystery equally threatening and alluring."

She describes telling these "practical men with an object to deal with" that the best way to clean her sculpture is with soap and water, which took both curators aback - they were accustomed to complex problems with elaborate and expensive solutions. These important and otherwise occupied men stirred in Truitt a keen awareness that "once again my sculpture is a bother because it is large and has a delicate surface. Despite years of self-discipline, I can never entirely avoid identification with my work and when it is thought bothersome I feel as if I were myself criticized. I have thought a lot about this aspect of my work and wonder sometimes if the vulnerability of my sculptures does not combine with their size to awaken the subtle hostilities evoked when women retain innate delicacy even while asserting their existence."

So utterly in touch with her work and its deep resonance, Truitt throughout her journal epitomizes the force that exists at the intersection of confidence and vulnerability. Searingly truthful about both her wisdom and her limitations, Truitt once stated that life experiences are "the ground out of which art grows." Truitt lived a simple yet fertile and joyful existence. Her life and sculpture bring to mind a quote that Truitt's peer Louise Nevelson stated in a lecture in 1980. "True strength is delicate."

18 January - DJ Ruscha

LAUNCHPROJECTS - Ed Ruscha played guest DJ last for Southern California National Public Radio station KCRW. Part of their Guest DJ Project, he played Jessie Belvin "Good Night My Love," Mason Williams "Them Sand Pickers / Them Sticker Gitters," Hank Ballard "Annie Had a Baby," Sleepy La Beef "Little Bit More, and Eddie Ruscha (yes, son of Ed) "The Rose."

From the radio station's website:

Ruscha’s work exposes him as an outstanding thinker with revolutionary contributions to our visual language. This list of musical favorites offers a peek for onlookers to connect intimately with his inspirations. It’s a benevolent paparazzi. Which makes the small tale of his last pick even sweeter.

A person like Ed Ruscha is a significant icon creating significant icons. He’s a major contributor to the birth of the Pop Art movement. He’s an artist. Ed Ruscha doing KCRW’s Guest DJ Project… this is exciting news.

Ruscha works with minimal and simple images that leave a surprising and glorious heft in the afterglow of their impressions. Constructed with the same minimal principles, hearing Ruscha’s picks of Doo Wop, blues and folk make sense. Of course it’s the music he grew up with, but it’s also the music he chose to grow up with. These genres are composed with simple arrangements that produce organic, sincere and real music. Without pomp and artifice, people exist in the lyrics. Stories and a human element. I see this in Ruscha’s work — stories, people and so much beautiful commentary in his artwork’s seeming simplicity – all ideas spoken with just a few visual notes from artist-songwriter Ruscha.

Ruscha’s final song selection was one of his son’s, also an artist and a fairly active DJ, Eddie Ruscha. He discusses the innocent song naming process that involved his grandson’s participation. Listening to the story, it’s hard not to acknowledge that Ruscha’s proud of his family and loves the sanctity and intimacy that art creates, the tale closing with, “…and that’s how these things get done.”

Here is a link to hear Ed's selections in his 10 minutes of DJ fame: KCRW - ED RUSCHA

images: Ed Ruscha in front of an iconic painting, Ed and Eddie for GQ Magazine.

11 Jan - Alexander Calder & the Benefits of Needlepoint

LAUNCHPROJECTS - Last Monday's "Antiques Roadshow" was a lesson in the appreciation of art. And that the knack for needlepointing could get you much further than you might expect. The piece in question was an Alexander Calder mobile made around 1950. The owner had inherited the mobile from her aunt who had been an acquaintance of Calder. The aunt, a great fan of his work, had invited Calder to a cocktail party and gave him a needlepoint pillow she had done of one of his earlier works. Apparently Calder was astounded, and a couple of days later returned with the mobile as a thank-you for the pillow. In short, she believed it to be worth around $30,000. The appraiser, Christopher Kennedy, informed her that it "had increased in value a little since then" and informed her that it could conceivably fetch over $1M at auction. He proceeded to say "not bad for a pillow." Which got me thinking, I might just take up needlepoint.

The following is the appraisal transcript from the PBS website. The video and an interview with the owner in on the PBS website.

GUEST: It's a mobile by Alexander Calder, and Calder gave it to my aunt. My aunt and uncle were having a cocktail party, and Calder was visiting friends of theirs who were invited to the party, so they took Calder along. And my aunt was very creative, and among other things, she had done a needlepoint pillow of one of Calder's works. And he was astounded. He'd never seen one like that before. And so she gave it to him, and a couple of days later, somebody appeared at the doorway, and he had given her this mobile as a thank-you for the pillow.

APPRAISER: You've owned this for a while-- since 1985, I believe.

GUEST: Yeah.

APPRAISER: And you had a slight restoration to it in 1986. Some of the colors were touched up a little bit.

GUEST: Yes.

APPRAISER: And clearly that's going to have an effect on the value, to a certain degree. This was originally given to your aunt in 1958.

GUEST: Yes.

APPRAISER: But this probably, as far as the actual date of construction, dates a little bit earlier than 1958.

GUEST: Oh, yes. I think it's... early '40s was a guess.

APPRAISER: Alexander Calder essentially invented the art form known as a mobile.

GUEST: Right.

APPRAISER: And it became very iconic of 1950s modern art. And I think the late '50s sort of marks a turning point where he begins to concentrate more on larger installations. It's made on very thin wire, and then these are usually either aluminum or an anodized, weather-resistant material that.. slipped in and then very delicately soldered. And you can see in here where all of the knots and joints, all put in, in a very balancing kind of format. He always liked the use of primary colors. This back one is a little bit more of an orange, and some of the other appraisers on the set thought this might be a little bit unusual for a color. We should mention the Alexander Calder Foundation.

GUEST: Yes.

APPRAISER: Which is a major element in both identifying the work of Alexander Calder, authenticating it, and I believe that you had sent some letters, some documentation.

GUEST: We've sent the documentation and a transparency, and they just said they would need to look at it in person, and we haven't gone to New York to do that.

APPRAISER: Calder Association is, like any foundation, is set up so that an artist's work are not diluted. And that's why they're very diligent about keeping up to make sure that things are authenticated so if that they are sold, that they do have that stamp of approval...

GUEST: Right.

APPRAISER: ...or of authenticity. I know that earlier, back in the late '80s or '90s, you had an approximate value of what it was worth?

GUEST: The man who restored it said at least $30,000.

APPRAISER: It's gained a little bit in value since then. We worked on the values to somewhat of a consensus and it still needs to be validated. Based upon that, a fair auction value, the range is somewhere between $400,000 and $600,000.

GUEST: How much?

APPRAISER: $400,000 to $600,000 at auction as somewhat of a wholesale price. Right now, Alexander Calder's market is extremely hot, and in a good retail setting, it would not be at all inconceivable that this very small, wonderful piece of art could probably break $1 million.

GUEST: Oh, my God.

APPRAISER: Not bad for a pillow.

GUEST: Oh! My problem is, I've got one mobile and two children. (both laughing)

APPRAISER: I'm sure your husband, who is watching off-camera, will be equally happy with the good news.

GUEST: (laughing): Oh, I think so.

Images: The Calder in question, my newest how-to book (the man approach might be best for my skill set)

6 Jan - SITE Santa Fe SPREAD

LAUNCHPROJECTS - I had lunch today with Irene Hofmann, the recently appointed Director of SITE Santa Fe, to hear about SPREAD, SITE's new community-based granting initiative.

Based on the models of FEAST in Brooklyn and inCUBATE in Chicago (with other iterations in Portland and Minneapolis) SPREAD is a recurring public dinner designed to generate community-driven financial support to fund artistic innovation. At each SPREAD dinner, participants pay a sliding-scale entrance fee for which they receive dinner and a ballot. During dinner, the SPREAD audience will hear short proposals from up to eight artists for innovative and yet-to-be-realized new projects. The eight finalists will be selected by a small group of community artists, dancers, performers, filmmakers and curators. Diners will then cast their votes for their favorite project. At the end of dinner, the artist whose proposal receives the most votes will be awarded all of the funds collected at the door to realize their project. In cash (see image above).

We immediately responded to a grass-roots initiative entirely dependent upon community engagement and the concept that anyone willing to spend $15 - $50 to participate equally mattered in how the money would be awarded. The direct relationship between those providing funding and those receiving the grant creates a immediacy and transparency uncommon in the art world. Further, the more supportive the community - attendance of diners, donations of food and other goods from local businesses, financial support - the more successful each local granting cycle becomes.

Although these small grants will never replace larger granting organizations and major-donors who are indispensable to the success of the arts in our community, small amounts can add up to a lot. These micro-grants empower the community and provide an opportunity for many promising New Mexico artists to realize goals they would not otherwise have the means to achieve.

16 Dec - Albright-Knox Acquires Works

LAUNCHPROJECTS - The Albright-Knox Museum in Buffalo, New York acquired works by Patrick McFarlin and Eric Tillinghast to be added to their permanent collection. LAUNCHPROJECTS applauds our artists on this great achievement.

When Louis Grachos visited Santa Fe this past summer we had the opportunity arrange a studio visit with Patrick McFarlin to preview the works in our then upcoming show, Obituaries and (mini) Masterpieces. These pieces represented a departure for McFarlin. Eulogizing the work of those who have come before, he placed obituaries and masterworks into new and unexpected contexts, thereby recreating and reframing our assumptions of fame, mastery, and the anticipation of originality.

Grachos was already deeply familiar with McFarlin's work as they worked together for McFarlin's solo exhibition at SITE Santa Fe in 1996 when Grachos was then Director. He immediately responded to this new body of work and began the process of acquisition at that point. The five Patrick McFarlin pieces Grachos ultimately selected from this series were all of Joan Mitchell, one miniature painting, George Went Swimming at Barnes Hole, 1957 (pictured above) was based on the original already included in the Albright-Knox collection.

Grachos was also very familiar with Eric Tillinghast's work, and several of Tillinghast's pieces are already in in the Albright-Knox permanent collection from an earlier donation by Natalie and Irving Forman. The Pools portfolio selected by Grachos is a 24-piece collection of unique images of swimming pools, all depicting a different shape and color of water. In the words of Internationally acclaimed artist and critic Harmony Hammond "in Pools, Tillinghast reworked appropriated photographs of swimming pools. From a distance, the resulting condensed-down shapes— both familiar and strange — read solid turquoise. It’s only upon very close examination, that variation in water depth, reflection of light on the surface, and the side of or steps into the pool are discernible." To read more about this body of work please refer to the review by Jan Adlmann published in Art in America.

Works from both series are currently available at LAUNCHPROJECTS - please contact the gallery for additional information and availability.