Every other newsletter we feature the work of a different member of NYFA's immigrant artist community. This archive contains a record of past featured artists, beginning in September of 2009.

Click on an artist's name and date below to jump to that Featured Artist article, or simply scroll down to browse through past Featured Artists.

>06/25/2012 Michel Kouaku
>04/19/2012 Claudia Peña Salinas
>02/28/2012 Jeff Chien-Hsing Liao
>12/20/2011 Hector Canonge
>10/25/2011 Sutthirat Supaparinya
>08/25/2011 Tania Bruguera
>06/23/2011 The Create Collective
>04/28/2011 Stanley Ruiz
>02/18/2011 Miru Kim
>12/14/2010 Rita Silva
>10/20/2010 Mathilde Roussel Giraudy
>08/25/2010 Tattfoo Tan
>06/11/2010 Hai Zhang
>05/14/2010 Nicolás Dumit Estévez
>04/02/2010 Tamara Kostianovsky
>03/19/2010 Golnar Adili
>02/19/2010 Jessica Kaire
>01/08/2010 Signe Baumane
>12/11/2009 Scherezade Garcia
>11/27/2009 Rune Olsen
>11/13/2009 Carmen Lizardo
>10/30/2009 Madeleine Debure and Jeanne Verdoux
>10/16/2009 Angie Drakopoulos
>10/02/2009 Laura Baker
>09/18/2009 2009 Mentoring Program Participants

06/25/12

Michel Kouaku

NYFA Program Associate Michon Ashmore interviewed dancer and choreographer Michel Kouakou, recipient of the 2012 Vilcek Prize for Creative Promise in the Arts, for the June newsletter.

For Michel Kouakou becoming a dancer wasn’t a conscious decision, it was more a way of life. He grew up in Ivory Coast, a country rich in traditions of music and dance, where performance communicates emotion, celebrates rites of passage, and helps strengthen bonds between community members. “My country is a country of dancers so you grow up dancing all the time. It’s not something you make a choice about,” he said. “I never wanted to do anything other than dance.”

Kouakou’s commitment, passion and talent are helping him achieve noteworthy honors in the world of dance. The 31-year-old has received several fellowships, including one in 2007 from the New York Foundation for the Arts and one from the U.S./Japan Creative Artists Program, in 2008, which allowed him to study in Japan for six months. Earlier this year he was awarded the 2012 Vilcek Prize for Creative Promise in the Arts for his globally influenced performances and choreography. The $25,000 award, given by the Vilcek Foundation, honors the contributions of immigrant artists living in America who have distinguished themselves early in their careers.

Growing up in Abidjan, Kouakou experienced a difficult time making his way as a dancer. His father pushed him to play soccer and he found little support in his community. With no formal dance school, there were few places that offered instruction with contemporary performers. “In Africa, dance isn’t seen as a profession, so they don’t put much effort into training people,” he said. “The one place where I did receive formal training, they were building a bridge and so they tore it down. After that, most of my training involved hands-on collaboration with choreographers, traveling with them.”

As a youth, Kouakou was powerfully influenced by traditional village dances and would try to reenact them on his own. He also created urban-inflected dance routines with his friends and performed them in street competitions. At 15, he was discovered by the performer Werewere Liking and studied with her at Ki Yi M’Bock village before joining choreographer Germaine Acogny at l’Ecole de Sables, in Senegal. He fled Africa in 1999 as his country headed toward civil war to study in Europe and Japan. His travels and experience working with renowned choreographers, such as Bud Blumenthal and Kora Yamazaki, introduced him to new styles of dance and to the thought that he could make dancing a career. At 18, he said, “I started to believe more in dancing being my position because I was traveling, performing and taking classes with different choreographers. After I did my first piece in Germany, it opened my eyes and gave me hope that dance could be my work, my profession.”

Though his roots are based in traditional West African dance, Kouakou is known for taking a global approach to his art, drawing motivation from the countries he’s visited and his observations of culture and traditions in those places. “I work a lot with inner life and energy and I believe in connections, in what comes naturally,” he said. “I love Butoh dance and I feel close to Asian culture because when I was in Japan I saw a lot of similarities, like people eating rice in the morning. That’s something people do in my country. So that’s something I feel connected to, and I try to get to the essence of that.”

The desire to figure out his language and signature as a choreographer led him to establish Daara Dance Company in 2003. During the course of putting together different dance arrangements and working with other performers, Kouakou said he found the heart of his work. “By doing many different things you start to pay attention to what always comes, the reason why you’re doing your art. I started realizing that my pieces - not that they resemble each other - have the same center core. I found me in my work.”

Since 2003, Kouakou has performed with his company at New York’s Dance Theater Workshop, Joyce Soho, the Bates Dance Festival and the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Internationally he has presented work in Britain, Chad, Cote d’Ivoire, the Czech Republic, France, Holland, Israel, and Italy.

As Kouakou continues to explore his own artistic journey, he also aims to pass along his knowledge and culture to a new generation of dancers. Currently he is training four young performers at Daara Dance, mentoring them and taking them along on his travels so they can see how he works. He has also taught at the University of California, Los Angeles since 2009. As he trains students there, he tries to help them find their own style and voice as dancers. “When it comes to dance, I tell them it’s about life,” he said. “It’s about what you feel inside as a person. I want them to bring their own background, to know what their needs and goals are and to channel their energy so that their dance is a reflection of their own lives. I want them to carry something instead of wearing something.”

For Kouakou, helping artists generate material and develop their ways of thinking and dancing is a lifelong career goal. With the $25,000 Vilcek Prize, he wants to move ahead with a plan to buy land in Ivory Coast to build an education studio so that dancers who want to learn from him can go there to train. He’s also trying to put together a dance festival in Abidjan in 2013 that will feature dancers from Congo, Benin, Senegal, and America. The award, he said, “is something that will help me begin to do these things but it’s just a start. When you’re going upstairs you don’t spend time on the first step, you just keep going. If you do stop on the first step, you’ll never get to the top.”

If you’d like to contribute to Daara Dance Company or find out more information about the Ivory Coast studio project, email Michel Kouakou at daaradance@yahoo.com.

04/19/12

Claudia Peña Salinas

Claudia Peña Salinas is a mixed media artist from Mexico who practices her art in both Mexico and New York City. Her work has been presented at institutions such as SOMA in Mexico City, El Museo del Barrio and the Queens Museum of Art. Claudia's recent work with mixed materials involves a thoughtful and intuitive approach to combining objects and unlikely locations. She is interested in exploring the wide range of viewers reactions to these objects and continues to develop more ambitious projects to engage new spaces and wider audiences.

IAP Program Officer Karen Demavivas and Intern Pamela Hernandez interview Claudia below.

IAP: You first started as a painter and then gravitated to installation work. Why did you get onto this particular path? How do installations better communicate what you want to express?

CS: I found my way into installation through photography. At some point I began to notice that the abstract paintings I was doing resembled or had a certain relation to the surroundings I was photographing. Like the duct taped broken door of the subway I would go through everyday on my way to the studio or the discarded Styrofoam shapes of packaging goods. I started by pairing the paintings and photographs together into clusters. Around this time I had the opportunity to make a large-scale installation in a two-wall room. For it I painted an architectural space with black paint on the walls that played off the existing elements, such as doors and signs. I then hung in small clusters throughout the space, paintings, photographs, found printed material and drawings.

Most of the photographs had been taken over the course of a year. In them I found macro and micro perspectives of a certain geometry or emotional architecture if you will, observed in the materials or relationships between objects. The paintings, drawings and collected pages followed that logic.

It was clear that here was a language for expression that allowed for a certain making that included both the outside everyday and the inside studio time. The materials could communicate a more direct process of making and the work having multiple entryways and associative elements, could organically unfold both in its making and in its reception.

IAP: On your website, you did not mention the location and further details of each installation. For example, there are no details on the work Cosas Extraviadas (2011). Please explain why.

CS: I take all the photographs of my work, and it is usually a difficult and lengthy process. So much of the work depends on the viewer existing in the space that translating that into a few images where I am dictating the order requires a remaking/rethinking of the piece. Also, I usually photograph it at the end of the show and I try to give more of a visual rather than verbal understanding (such as a description of the location) of the material.

IAP: How do you begin a new project? What goes into the research and planning before you put together an installation?

CS: I often begin with an object, an image or text that I find. It’s a very intuitive process, something catches my eye and from there a slew of associations and connections come together. For Objectos Extraviados, originally there was no project in mind. The objects included came from various parts of Mexico City I explored and were meaningful to me. I thought of them as a homeless collection. It was a sign in the metro station with that name that coalesced the idea of creating an archive of these lost/displaced objects.

For the one night event, I displayed the photographic archive of the objects in one part of the building and scattered the objects around the space and photographed them, the idea being that the objects could be encountered in different ways, through the image in the archive or in situ. This encounter could be one of chance: if not having seen the archive, the object could be taken, destroyed or simply ignored. The next day I went looking for them and re-photographed the sites. Some objects where damaged, others had disappeared and a few had moved around. The piece offered a very quiet and intimate relationship. I considered it a success if it managed to instill a moment of surprise in a few.

IAP: You were born in Nuevo Leon, Mexico and later moved to the United States to pursue advanced studies and an artistic career here in NYC. Why did you choose to study abroad? What are the challenges and opportunities of studying here as an artist?

CS: I moved here with my family. My father was a corn and citrus farmer in Mexico and in the early 80’s the devaluation of the peso combined with a series of freezes that affected orange production made it difficult to remain in Mexico. My father immigrated to Chicago to work in construction and shortly we all joined. I went to a bilingual high school and what felt like a sort of in-between space, taking courses in both languages but immersed in neither. Most of my friends spoke Spanish and we kept to each other. I felt most comfortable and involved in the art classes, with its own language it was a good bridge between Spanish and English.

Later I went to the Art Institute of Chicago and studied painting. My move to the United States offered me a freedom to choose a certain path without the economical restraints I would have faced in Mexico. Here there were more opportunities and I was able to study with the help of financial aid and grants. I'm grateful for these opportunities, as I've been granted the ability to follow my creative drive.

IAP: Can you share some of the advantages and disadvantages you've experienced in practicing your art in your home country of Mexico versus here in New York City?

CS: I have worked mostly in the United States. Through involvement with various institutions in NYC, I've gained a strong community of artists that support my work. The New York art world, although at times overwhelming, is accessible to me via this tight knit community. My experience in Mexico City has been similar, due to SOMA, which I had the opportunity of attending last summer. The work that I made while there took the form of books, or documents of one-night events. I'm hoping to expand on the project that I began at SOMA. My time there gave me a certain curiosity and confidence about the place that I'd like to further explore.

IAP: You recently participated in the Queens Museum of Art Biennial with the installation Tecolotl (2012). What was the experience like and how did this opportunity position you as an artist?

CS: It was a pleasure being part of “Three Points Make a Triangle.” The Queens Museum of Art commissioned Tecolotl and the curators Larissa Harris, Jamillah James and Manuela Moscoso were very supportive of the project. There was a level of trust established that allowed the project to develop organically. I originally visited Flushing and walked around the grounds of Corona Park as preparation for the piece. Some objects came from the park such as the Corona bottle caps placed in-between the railroad ties, the dirt in the gap between the wall and floor and a concrete blue paint rock from one of the fountains in the park. I am happy that a wider audience is able to access the work in this show. The Queens Museum is an interesting institution that hosts a variety of viewers.

IAP: What is your current relationship to gallery representation?

CS: At the moment I am not working with a particular gallery. I am grateful to have opportunities like the Queens Museum of Art and Forever & Today. My work is not entirely commodifiable and this has its challenges. It is important for me to keep the work itself as the first priority. I’m open to working with a gallery, as long as I am able to allow the work to continue to develop in an organic way.

This summer I will be showing a piece in a group show at Horton Gallery.

IAP: What are you working on now?

CS: Right now I am working on a new piece for an exhibition that opens in May. Anaranja was commissioned by Savannah Gorton and Ingrid Chu for Forever & Today, the not-for-profit space they run in the Lower East Side. For this piece I’m working with the color orange or “naranja” in Spanish. The color and the fruit have a strong memory for me. I was born in Montemorelos, a city in Mexico known as the citrus capital, and my family like most grew oranges.

I started by walking around the area near the gallery, mostly into Chinatown where I noticed the oranges placed as offerings in many shopkeepers' Buddhist shrines and in the temples. There is a strong associative memory in the color, word, taste, and smell of the orange. In Chinese culture, orange also carries the associations of luck and prosperity. Prosperity is also embodied in the popular Japanese Maneki Neko, the cat waving a paw I also noticed in many shopkeepers’ windows.

On these walks, I have been collecting objects with orange color or form in my mind and working with them in the studio. I have also been photographing the oranges in their different forms and the cats that live in the shops, often engaging in brief conversations with the shopkeepers.

Along with this I’m working on a book that consists of photographs and short notations regarding the search for an orange blossom. Some of the motifs that run through the book are oranges, the number three, the color green and the seasons. The book includes walks around Chinatown, the Cloisters, friends’ studios and other day-to-day exchanges.

IAP: What is the next step in your career?

CS: Ideally, I would like to establish relationships with institutions and venues that can provide me with the time and support to realize more ambitious projects; these may be museums, non-profits, or galleries. I'm planning to return to Mexico City and realize a project within the community in which I've established there. In this regard I want to sustain a practice that can move between my home in NYC and Mexico City.

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02/28/12

Jeff Chien-Hsing Liao

Jeff Chien-Hsing Liao is a photographer who grew up in Taiwan, attended highschool in Canada, and finally arrived in New York City to complete his undergraduate degree at Pratt and his MFA at the School of Visual Arts. For his MFA thesis entitled "Habitat 7", Liao photographed communities around the IRT 7 train in Queens using a large format camera to capture enhanced detail and depth. His work studied the most ethnically diverse borough in America bringing prominence to its unparalleled cultural richness. "Habitat 7" earned him wide critical acclaim and was featured at numerous institutions including the Queens Museum of Art, the Harvard Business School, and the Getty Museum.

Most recently Jeff has received commissions from the Bronx Museum and The Museum of New York City to further his documentation of New York City. NYFA’s IAP Team Pamela Hernandez and Dennis Han interviewed Liao about his meticulous process and philosophy as well as his current projects.

IAP: Your photography captures a rich and descriptive point of view on your subject. Can you explain the process you undergo such as: What influences you to choose a specific theme and/or subject?

JL: My work reveals a level of detail that requires a new realm of existence which only large negatives, like those of an 8x10 view camera, can offer. Also, the relationship in scale and viewpoint with my subject is important as it affects the attitude of the viewer. In my work, it’s important that the subject matters do not confront the viewer so that the viewer is allowed to freely survey the landscapes.

I come from a documentary and large format photography background. The clarity and objectivity of the works of Bernd and Hilla Becher’s German industrialized architecture influence my images. The apparent objectivity of the Bechers’ art is the expression of a highly personal sensibility, which works on the extremes of photographic aesthetics. However, traditional documentary form no longer satisfies my sensibility of image. In the age of digitalization, new technology provides the capability to produce over-sized prints, and digital manipulation allows the photographer to move closer to his vision than ever before. Despite the elements of manipulation in my work, however, the conditions of my photographic perception still lead me to work in a documentary manner like Andreas Gursky. A Becher school photographer, he applies digital manipulation liberally, though also discreetly. I believe that the aspect of digital function can be a useful tool for an artist to achieve his aesthetic goal.

The scale of my subject matter requires me to depart from the basic characteristics of photography as direct visual recording. I decide to create the image as a painter who has more editorial freedom in constructing the imagery. All my images were composed in Photoshop from several different negatives. During the shooting, I try to capture the essence of the visual elements over a period of time. After digitalizing all the parts from the shooting, I reconstruct the elements in the computer. By joining the pieces together in post-production, I am able to best represent the atmosphere of the time, and to give sweeping yet specific representation of the environment.

IAP: How do you develop and modify each image and how long does it take to completion?

JL: Each image required scouting and planning, and I only make one image a day. Every image takes about 2 weeks (8-10 hrs a day) Photoshop time to completion.

IAP: Your critically acclaimed work "Habitat 7" captures beautifully descriptive images of settlement along the IRT 7 Train in Queens. Can you speak about what inspired you to document this landscape and what narrative you relay with this project?

JL: Though we now live in an industrial and technological era, where the survival of our existence no longer simply depends on the availability of food, the pattern of our quest for living space still resembles that of the ancient river valley civilizations. Such is the premise of the 7 Train, the seven-mile-long subway line that connects New York City’s Times Square with seven communities in northwest Queens, the most ethnically diverse borough in the country.

On a smaller but equally complex scale, some of the distinctive characteristics of a civilization – an intricate and highly organized society with the development of elaborate forms of economic exchange, as well as the establishment of sophisticated, formal social institutions such as organized religion, education, and the arts –are evident in the communities that have developed along the tracks of the 7 Train.

While I’ve been living along these tracks for years, I am still constantly awed by the complexity of the communities formed alongside it as well as the harmony so many people of distinct backgrounds are able to live in. I set out to photograph the ‘habitat’ of the 7 Train as I came to see it, with a focus on not the individual but the people as a whole, as well as their relationship with their environment.

IAP: What are you working on now in your artistic practice?

JL: My book Coney Island will be published by Nazraeli press this year. I am working with the Museum of the City of New York for a project in Staten Island. I am also working on a long term project about Manhattan that has been going on since last year.

IAP: What advice would you give to up and coming foreign-born artists who have just landed in New York? Can you speak on the specific path that you took to gain some footing in the art field?

JL: New York City has tremendous opportunities for artists but they can seem overwhelming to navigate. I would say persistence is important. If you know what you want in New York City, work hard and don’t look back.

For me personally, when I was in school, I started out spending a lot of time doing internships. Through internships I was able to open up my network and gain a good understanding of how the art industry works.

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12/20/11

Hector Canonge

Hector Canonge is an artist who has engaged in multiple disciplines over the span of his artistic and activist career in New York City. He studied Comparative Literature, Filmmaking and Integrated Media Arts and has participated in various artist residencies throughout the city. His work uses a broad range of media which include the use of commercial technologies, physical environments, and cinematic and performative narratives.

Canonge actively engages in exploring contemporary issues that impact immigrants in New York City. In many of his performance and public works such as Tabula Lunar and Scar, he makes use of technology to enhance audience participation and bring the message home for the viewer. Canonge is a leader in various initiatives that foster the collaboration of artists in the culturally diverse borough of Queens. His initiatives include CINEMAROSA, a film series that fosters the integration of LGBT communities in Queens through the creation of cultural film media programs; QMAD, a non-profit cultural organization that produces and implements programs in the arts and communications media to encourage Queens' multicultural communities to come together and forge an artistic identity for the Borough; and A-Lab Forum, a monthly forum that brings in artists at various art spaces in New York City. Canonge's work has been reviewed by The New York Times, ART FORUM, Hispanic Magazine, and The Queens Chronicle, among others. His projects have been followed by media like NY1, NPR Radio, UNIVISION, and CNN.

Most recently, Canonge completed a residency with The Laundromat Project: Create Change Residency Program in which he developed his project The Inwood Laundromat Language Institute which is a school for teaching English and a platform for collecting stories about the experiences of learning a new language for immigrants. NYFA's IAP Program Officer Karen Demavivas and Intern Dennis Han interviewed Canonge about his experiences, his thoughts, and initiatives involving immigrant issues and collaboration in New York City.

IAP: Your projects explore a diverse range of topics from issues like AIDS to how various cultural influences affect the human psyche. Do you find yourself converging on one or more particular paths or do you seek to branch out more?

HC: For me art is an experience that I breathe and live. I couldn’t say that I’m branching out to any particular practice. As I evolve and grow as an individual and as an artist, I find new modes of expression that I am not afraid to explore and experiment with. The topics I’ve been able to explore are diverse and encompass various forms of media production from using mobile networks in the creation of collective narratives in “Ciudad Transmobil,” to adopting commercial barcode technology to tell stories about HIV/AIDS in “200mm3,” or to mapping terrains with satellites and geological data interpretation in “Parallel Grounds.” From working with environmental issues related to the production of crops and Genetically Modified Organisms, GMO’s, in “Deceptive Landscapes,” to spending thirty hours inside a luminescent cage in the gallery writing stories about immigration with “Golden Cage,” are examples of the things that I’m concerned about. No matter what tool or technique I adopt, my intellectual and formative background also comes afloat. I studied comparative literature so narratives are very important in my projects. I have a filmmaking background so cinema is very present in my work, and the same can be said for my Integrated Media Arts practice where technology is present but very much as a tool or mechanism.

IAP: In some of your interactive works such as Tabula Lunar, Scar, and Schema CorpoReal, audience participation through technological means was key to the experience. Can you explain why this interaction was important to the experience of these works?

HC: In my projects, installations, and performance art work interactivity is an important component. I believe that by having the public directly involved with the artwork, they are closer to my meaning and concept. I come from a film background, where an audience is pretty much a passive recipient of the visual message, so when I started working in Integrated Media Arts, I realized that I wanted a more direct participation of people. In Tabula Lunar, for example, passers by become part of the projected images as they get placed on its lunar surface. It was fascinating to see grownups and kids trying to jump like the astronauts on the moon. They became part of the visual narrative monumentally projected above them out on the facade of Coliseum Theater on 181^st Street and Broadway.

With Scar, I appropriated the dynamics and narrative of a shooting game, and using an X-Box, I prompted people to pick up a toy gun and shoot at criminals extracted from the film Scarface. At the beginning people were a little cautious or self conscious about picking up the gun, aiming at a target and shooting through this cracked mirror, but once they got do it, they couldn’t wait for their turn to have the shooting experience. Scar reflects on the glamorization of violence, the attitudes of heroism and how fictive narratives become translated to real life popular urban culture.

In terms of my performance art work, I also engage with the public. For Your Blue Eyes Melt My Bronze Soul / Tus ojos claros derriten mi espíritu de bronze, a piece about colonization and control, I gave people little bags with red paint that they put on their palms so they could slap or touch me leaving their palm imprints on my body. I was slapped many times and touched in various ways, but what was interesting was how people engaged and wanted to take part in the experience. For GRANADA, a performance work about war in the Middle East, I popped pomegranate arils in people’s mouth, and then ate the dry seed. They couldn’t wait to have the drops of the red juice in their mouths. I was moved and thrilled by people’s active reaction to my work, even more so than when they passively watched my earlier films.

IAP: You hold a compelling take on certain aspects of society often through the lens of technology. How have you engaged with immigrants as well as non-immigrants and the establishment through this lens in relation to the politics of migration? What are some good practices of dialogue that you can share?

HC: In many of my projects, technology is the means and not the end of what I conceptualize and create. Working in New-media has allowed me to explore the different connections that I can make with the public. My New-media Art work is accessible and non-intimidating. For example, with my project IDOLatries, I used the barcode labels on Hispanic food products in order to trigger visual narratives about feminine archetypes. Then the project was exhibited, it was fantastic to see people’s reactions because they are familiar with the bottles, packages or cans. I think the project would certainly have a different resonance if it were to be presented in Norway or Japan because of the cultural and traditional distance to the particular objects. In the same manner, the project INTERSECTIONS uses similar technology, but this time used as a mapping system for food vending trucks in Upper Manhattan. The location of the trucks and their plate number is codified in the barcode, and people can see them on the map, scan them and trigger the video interviews.

While doing some of my projects, particularly those dealing with immigration issues, I’ve been able to work with various local groups and with politicians who support my vision. It is important for me to establish these types of alliances because my work is not created in a vacuum, and I wouldn’t like to have them stay there.

My recommendation for this type of work is to know what your goals are, and to determine how that relationship will move the art project forward or will maintain its presence and relevance for the future. My grandmother used to say “Lo cordial no quita lo valiente” (Being cordial does not strip out one’s courage) so I approach all aspects of my work, including the not so fruitful ones in that fashion. I know what I want, and I can tell you so in a respectful but matter of fact type of way.

IAP: Over the years, how have people changed or evolved in their response to your works and the message they communicate?

HC: I was welcomed into the art world with a certain degree of skepticism, but also much wonder and interest. When I first presented my mobile-networked project, Ciudad Transmobil, at the Queens International Biennial in 2004, the museum was interested in my New-media installation, but technologically it represented a challenge. The curator was supportive, but I don’t think she fully grasped the new concept. So when she realized that I needed computers with faster processors, flat screen monitors, high speed Internet connection, and a load of materials to transform the gallery space, they pulled me aside, and after long talks, we were able to negotiate without compromising my vision. That was my first experience working with art installers, technicians and a whole team of people who were very supportive. I must say that I turned the museum upside down, but I guess that was the whole experience. Since then, I’ve been more careful and extremely clear with what is needed to carry out, install, or create my projects. I make sure curators, gallerists, and art administrators fully understand what I want to achieve.

Over the years, I’ve worked with incredible people who have been very supportive of my work. Though I have a clear idea of what I want to achieve with every project, I am open to suggestions and possible alternatives for their implementation. I listen to curators, consider the options, and ultimately decide. In that sense, I’m easy to work with, but I am also very demanding because I know what my vision is. Just as some curators love and understand my work and multidisciplinary approach, there are others who want to box or label me into what they are traditionally accustomed to work with; painters, sculptors, photographers, video artists, etc. I don’t fit in any of those categories so they exclude my work or don’t take the extra steps to learn more about my approach of integrating technologies, art, and community engagement. I don’t follow curatorial trends so I’m this rare hybrid who is always transforming and evolving right in front of their eyes. For many curators it’s probably challenging and disquieting.

The public finds my work accessible and they understand what I am trying to communicate. It may take them a few minutes to realize how they must interact with a piece, but once they do, they certainly don’t need me to be next to them to translate its meaning and content.

IAP: You have been involved in various residencies over the span of your career. Your latest one was with The Laundromat Project: Create Change Residency Program in 2011, for which you developed your latest project: The Inwood Laundromat Language Institute. How have such residencies helped you in developing ways to serve the immigrant community through self-expression and learning?

HC: Some of my projects have been developed as part or as a result of having been involved in residencies, fellowships, art commissions, and/or exhibition invitations. For example, with my project Dystopic Walls, a commission by Queens Museum of Art for the program Corona Plaza, back in 2007, I intervened a Western Union store transforming its long hallway with a zig-zag wall that represented the wall being built along the US - Mexican border. The installation had two sides, one that represented the US with its polished black surface, and the other, representing Mexico, and by extension Latin America, had a rustic, unfinished appearance. People, entering the Western Union branch (located outside Corona Plaza on 103^rd Street and Roosevelt), encountered this massive structure, and if they paid close attention, discovered peepholes through which they could see digital images of Latin American cities representing the immigrant communities established in Queens. In the same manner, as people exited the business, they could see through peep holes of the US side, digital slides of cities in the US that are densely populated by immigrants. The experience of working in a public environment such as the one encountered at a Western Union branch, gave me a better understanding of immigrants’ connection with their homeland, their family’s survival, and the interesting dynamics of economic dependency. The project also included a series of workshops for children and their families. While children created flags that identified their ethnic origins, parents wrote letters to their loved ones, that were sent to them using Western Union.

With Intersections a project that integrates New-media mapping technology, and organic elements, I worked with immigrants living in Washington Heights and Inwood in Northern Manhattan. Through a grant from LMCC Manhattan Community Arts Fund (MCAF), the project took place in 2009, and it allowed me to learn about food culture and the appropriation of public spheres, like sidewalks and street corners, by food vending trucks and their clients. The bright, colorful, and unique food shops called my attention one day as I was passing through Amsterdam Avenue and 177^th Street. The neon signs, many times not fully working, were beacons of changes in the attitudes and practices of immigrant residents in the urban terrain. I spent a few months, visiting the various spots where immigrants congregated late at night. Patiently, I developed a relationship with the food vendors, and learned about their work and lives. For example, I found that many of them were not the owners but employees working long hours as undocumented migrants. Many vendors wanted to participate in the project but when I was about to interview them, they decided not to take part. The few who did risked loosing their jobs, or being deported. At the end of the project, the fascination with the colorful trucks became faded and suddenly they were not as bright as I once thought.

Following these two projects is a series of works exploring immigrant lives, where traditions and experiences are the focus: From mapping immigrant communities along the #7 Train in Queens with the project 18 BEATS, to setting up talks in hair salons or barber shops in Northern Manhattan, HAIRTALK, to publicly performing in Jackson Heights TRACE-ABLE, and to setting up a month long English school with the “Inwood Laundromat Language Institute” in Northern Manhattan. Through these works I’ve not only been able to address issues imbedded in the immigrant experience, but I’ve also learned to recognize the various factors that make every experience so unique yet similar when it comes to ideas for a better future, homeland, and family.

It is very important for me to work from inside the communities I explore rather than assuming an anthropological approach. With my latest public art project, The Inwood Laundromat Language Institute (TILLI), I spent a month teaching English courses to Hispanic immigrants inside the local laundromat, Magic Touch. The project was in a way the continuation of my exploration of the notion of “school as art or art as school” that I had started with AKA, Active Knowledge Academy, in the Bronx, and with the performance-lectures, Immigrant 101, first presented at Panoply Performance Laboratory in Brooklyn.

For TILLI, I set up a whole systematic and aesthetic approach for an institute. First, students received all the materials (notebooks, index cards, pens, pencils, erasers, and even card holders) bearing the logo and the colors of the institute. Second, participants were asked to commit themselves to attend the classes twice a week, either in the morning or evening schedules, for a whole month. Third, the whole learning experience was to be based on what was available in any laundromat: soap, clothes, equipment, etc., and then learning basic English conversation. And fourth, the project was documented and archived. The result of the courses culminated in a public reading of students’ compositions in English. It was an incredible experience to see people transform themselves as they learn basic English. I developed a relationship with participants. Classes became more than just classes. The laundromat was no longer a place for dirty clothes, but a school with portable blackboard and students who did not mind to stand up for more than an hour bearing the Summer heat, the fumes coming from the dryers or the noise of the washing machines. When classes were taking place, the Laundromat was the school, everything else seemed to adapt to our presence. Everything became the art project.

IAP: As an immigrant artist who is passionate about fostering collaboration among other immigrant artists, you have established initiatives such as QMAD, A-Lab Forum, and CINEMAROSA to support this community. What are some of your insights in facilitating the collaboration of these artists in order to build solidarity amidst such creativity?

HC: The acronym that I use on the back of my business card reads: CONeKTOR, is a take on my own name without the H, and with the Spanish word “con” for with, so it phonetically reads “with Hector.” So it’s the idea of connecting with me and, and I being or serving as connector with and among others.

I foster collaboration with other artists because I believe in the importance of dialogue, exchange, and relations. It doesn’t matter where my artist friends and colleagues come from, they could be from China, Mexico, Oklahoma or the Bronx. The fact that my work and initiatives have involved other artists who had been born abroad or beyond state lines has not been purposely proposed. If I find in them a good rapport, common interests, and challenging conversations they have my attention and respect.

CINEMAROSA, the monthly Queer film series that I launched in 2004, was to connect with the LGBT community of Queens by way of screening gay, lesbian, and transgender films from local, national and international artists. I make it a point to have the filmmakers or people involved in the films share their experiences and stories with the public. QMAD, Queens Media Arts Development, followed this first initiative, as its co-founder and current director, I’ve had the opportunity to work with people that believe art –exhibitions, film screenings, and media programs- should be brought to the people rather than expecting people to fill out a gallery space or screening room. Through QMAD, I was able to do more since it is incorporated as a non-profit cultural arts organization. Presently it serves as an umbrella for a number of other programs such as FRAMING AIDS, the annual project to raise awareness about HIV/AIDS in Queens; A-Lab Forum, the monthly artists’ presentations; Space 37, the pop-up gallery in Jackson Heights, and the newest project, ITINERANT, a seasonal performance art festival in Queens.

I spent many hours working alone with my own projects in the studio or involved with programs and projects related to QMAD. As much as I enjoy this solitary process, I am also very sociable and like the company of people particularly if it involves other artists with whom I can talk and relate. I create opportunities for engagement because I know that, just like me, there are other artists who want to connect, contact, and belong to a group or be involved with audiences outside the four walls or their homes or studio space.

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10/25/11

Sutthirat Supaparinya

Sutthirat Supaparinya is an artist from Chiang Mai, Thailand who uses video and interactive installation to question, explore and challenge perceptions derived from the mundane world, mass media and institutional sources. Her works have been shown in numerous solo and group shows around the world – among them, the Bangkok Art and Culture Center in Thailand, the Queensland Art Gallery in Australia, the Guangzhou Triennial in China and many other venues in Germany, Japan, Korea, Italy, Burma, Romania, Taiwan, Singapore, Vietnam and the United States. She recently completed a fellowship at the Asian Cultural Council to conduct visual arts research in New York City as well as a residency at the International Studio and Curatorial Program. (For more information, please view her website at: http://www.atelierorange.info) Karen Demavivas, NYFA Program Officer of the Immigrant Artist Project, interviewed Supaparinya about her work, time in New York, and place in community.

IAP: You have exhibited your work in the international art circuit over a number of years now. How has your Asian Cultural Council (ACC) Fellowship in the cosmopolitan hub of New York informed and enriched your experiences as an artist? What can you share about your time of research and networking here with artists and organizations in New York?

SS: Through the ACC Fellowship, I was able to come and experience the United States for the first time and expand my view of the contemporary art world beyond Asia and Europe. In a sense, this experience has completed my understanding of the international stage as it relates to my career, culture and people.

New York is a very unique and interesting city with a lot of artists and extensive support for them. I’m able to explore many different kinds of work here and I have a special interest in old, experimental films, which I’ve viewed in places like the Anthology Film Archives or Film Forum. These spaces in turn have their own special atmosphere, communities, and place in history.

In New York, I’m also able to more easily meet and network with artists I admire. For instance, I recently met Carsten Nicolei, a media and sound artist from Germany who just had an opening at Pace Gallery in Chelsea. I’ve also more comfortably connected with prominent artists from Thailand who live and work at least part of the year here such as Rirkrit Tiravanija. Our dialogue here differs from our conversations back in Thailand in that we find common ground in talking about our lives abroad and our place in the contemporary art world. We can be more critical about the state of our country and spend more intimate time together without the whole Thai social context around us. In a sense, I am more open to engaging with artists I admire when I’m here, especially with the prestigious ACC Fellowship supporting me and helping me frame my position.

I am here to experience what is out there in the NYC art world and other people’s art, which could influence my art-making in the future. However, I’m not here to create new works myself. There are many old works that have already been done very well, but on the other hand, there are also many more possibilities to develop new video/media works. So I’m learning from all of this in order to develop my message to audiences. I am also trying to find a way to manage my artistic career and financial means better so that I don’t have to make money through other means, but rather focus and sustain my own career. I’ve attended some professional development workshops here.

IAP: NYFA’s Immigrant Artist Project also offers such professional development support with the understanding that the business side of your career is very critical to the health of your art. You need to manage that well as financial needs are a constant challenge in this economic climate. How are you financially supporting yourself now in your artistic career?

SS: not easy but at least my media arts skills can be applied to making money. I teach video/media art classes and I try to find any kind of job that is interesting and informs my creative career.

IAP: Can you share the diversity of support you’ve received as an artist over the past six months with help from the ACC?

SS: I think the grant itself and the connection to a diverse network of ACC Fellows from Asia practicing in a range of disciplines have been very valuable. In addition, the ACC has also referred us to relevant individuals, organizations, programs, and other activities around the city. For example, I secured my recent residency at the International Studio and Curatorial Program (ISCP) due to their partnership with the ACC. This experience has been rich in studio time, artist presentations, curatorial visits, field trips, and exhibitions. The ISCP also provides an extremely useful deadline calendar of artist opportunities from all around the world. Beyond this institutional support, we also have the freedom to seek out our own connections and collaborations.

IAP: We first met during my time as a Fulbright Fellow in Chiang Mai more than five years ago and I would say there were many cultural visitors like me (just as you are here now in New York) who passed through and engaged with the arts community there. I was struck by your 2009 installation of a banner draped over the tourist district in Chiang Mai with its provocative title and statement I Love Farang (Foreigners). For better or for worse, the work reflects on how the Thai economy relies on foreigners/tourists, including cultural tourists. Can you talk about how this statement may relate to the international art figures that fly in as cultural tourists and engage with your art community in Thailand? To what extent do they enrich and/or challenge the local context?

SS: In order to welcome mass tourism, Thai private and government projects tend to change the landscape, the beauty, and the very culture to adapt to foreign visitors, which is problematic in that we end up losing our identity. When so much of the economy is dependent on this kind of tourism, it can be catastrophic when emergencies occur such as the international airport closing down in 2009 due to riots (to which this banner work was a response). People have few other means to turn to in order to sustain themselves. This kind of tourism should be managed better by the government.

On the other hand, people who travel here for deeper intercultural exchange -- as you and other artists and culture workers of your time did -- can have a positive impact, especially when they take the time to develop relationships with the local people and context. When you were in Chiang Mai, there were many connectors in the arts community who bridged a dialogue between the locals and the visitors and many generative ideas and collaborations took place.

IAP: Yes, many of us were interested in socially engaged practice framed by a Buddhist philosophy and the “art of everyday life” but in the Thai rather than Western context, which rooted these daily interventions in the local rhythm of Chiang Mai.

Now you are engaging with the Thai arts community in New York. Can you please tell me about your role in organizing the recent Thai group exhibition “Siamese Connection” at Invisible Dog Gallery in Brooklyn?

SS: The exhibition was organized by the Thai Artist Alliance (TAA); I acted as a juror for the selection of approximately 20 works and as advisor for the curatorial team. The TAA is made up of a group of young Thai artists, culture workers and recent graduates of the New School, NYU, Pratt, and SVA. They work in various fields: visual arts, music, design, fashion, photography, etc. They all came together because they saw a need to share resources, connections, and to provide a platform for visibility as a community. Together, they were able to overcome challenges, secure opportunities, and better sustain themselves. They’ve been able to collaborate on both artistic and professional levels. Most of them want to stay in New York and find a way to survive and establish community here.

IAP: Do you have any advice for this younger generation of Thai artists living in New York?

SS: I think artists should always go through a process of re-evaluating themselves, their work, their audience, their community, and whatever space they are working with. It’s about questioning what may seem apparent such as mass media – you need to maintain a critical stance. One may have a goal, but there are ways to keep exploring that without repeating yourself. It is also important to share your thoughts and ideas with other artists and go out to see their work. In addition, artists need to be proactive and resourceful. For example, instead of video artists mourning over the fact that their finances cannot afford them the latest technology, they should shift their focus to the essential idea of their work and build a strong vision – from there, they can reprioritize and realize that maybe a simple camera is enough to capture that vision.

IAP: Let’s shift from your place in community to your creative process. Your work often ignites a sensorial shift in consciousness in a journey through the seemingly mundane. In your video piece Dotscape (2005), you transform the humdrum view out a window on your train ride from Bangkok to Chiang Mai into a dizzying view of an ever-shifting dot matrix of abstract urban and green landscapes accompanied by the incongruous sound of birds and insects buzzing and whirring. It turns out that you were playing with an already existing matrix of advertising stickers, which obstruct the view of the outside. Why did you further shift and transform the perception of the passing landscapes in this way? Was there a certain psychological, social, and/or emotional statement you wanted to relay?

SS: This work poses the question: Can advertising and capitalism buy our view of landscapes and change the environment? When the journey begins in Bangkok, you see how advertising changes the cityscape in general. And then when you focus in on the specific advertising matrix, it also changes your view out the window and the whole experience of the train ride. So how should we view this? Where is the critical shift in consciousness?

Then when the train pulls out of Bangkok, it leads you through forest areas, the countryside, and small villages -- all the while still through the view of this obstructed window. The soundscape of the work is from a French artist who captured sounds from the forests of Southeast Asia, particularly Thailand and Malaysia. It doesn’t parallel the real sounds outside the train, but it makes sense to me in that it reflects how I dreamt about the forest while going on this journey.

This work has been shown as both a video and an installation piece. I would say that it is much better as an installation because the viewer has a more all-encompassing experience of the space. When you walk around, you experience the patterns and scenery in that moment in time from different angles depending on where you stand. When you are close to the screen, you only see the dots and not the overall image and it’s dizzying. When you step back, you can see the whole landscape more clearly and have a sense of groundedness in the image – each image is in order of what you would view on the train trip from Bangkok to Chiang Mai. However, in a sense, your perceptions and feelings continue shifting as you tag along on this journey of dynamically moving patterns through the landscape.

This installation is now on view as part of my solo exhibition entitled “Hypothetical” (October 6 - December 10, 2011) at Media Noche Gallery in East Harlem.

IAP: Congratulations, this solo exhibition is a great conclusion to your time here. Thank you.

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08/25/2011

Tania Bruguera

Tania Bruguera, this month's featured artist, is one of the leading political and performance artists of her generation. Working primarily in behavior art, useful art and art in the political and public sphere, she investigates ways in which art can be applied to everyday political life. Bruguera has participated in Documenta, Performa and the Venice, Gwangju and Havana Biennales; her work is in the collections of the Tate Modern, Museum für Moderne Kunst, Daros Foundation, El Museo del Barrio, Bronx Museum, IVAM, Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes and Centro de Arte Contemporáneo Wifredo Lam.

In her work Tatlin's Whisper #5 (2008) at the Tate Modern, Bruguera enlisted two uniformed policemen mounted on horseback. Using techniques developed to control rioting crowds, they marshaled the audience around the gallery space. Many audience members were unaware they were participating in an artwork. In a telling statement from an earlier interview with scholar and curator RoseLee Goldberg, Bruguera said, "I want to work with reality. Not the representation of reality. I don't want my work to represent something. I want people not to look at it but to be in it, sometimes even without knowing it is art."

For her current project, Immigrant Movement International (IM International), Bruguera has set up headquarters in Corona, Queens to absorb how shifting political circumstances affect Queens immigrants. Her mission is to define the immigrant as a unique, global citizen in a post-national world and to test the concept of "useful art," in which artists actively implement the merger of art into urgent social and political issues.

In its incipient year, IM International is operating in Queens, NY—a borough where 167 languages are spoken and 46 percent of the population is foreign born. From its office on Roosevelt Avenue in Corona (a neighborhood dominated by Ecuadorian, Dominican, Mexican, Chinese, South Asian and Korean immigrants), IM International provides space for member and outreach activities by local social service and cultural organizations, engages elected officials, and hosts "Make a Movement" Sundays in which artists, activists and community members come together to build a new, transnational immigrant community. At its first Open House, the headquarters held a slogan writing workshop to reclaim the slogan of political rallies (shown in the photo above).

After 2011, IM International will move to different locations around the globe drawing on the lessons learned in the multinational neighborhood of Corona and its pioneering organizations run by immigrants, for immigrants. Year One of Immigrant Movement International is supported by The Queens Museum of Art (read their May 2011 interview with IAP here), located in Queens' historic Flushing Meadows Corona Park, and CreativeTime, a public art organization that sponsors art and artists all over New York City. IM International is also taking part in CreativeTime's Living as Form (May 18 – October 16, 2011), an international project exploring over twenty years of cultural works that blur the forms of art and everyday life, emphasizing participation, dialogue, and community engagement. In the lecture "Socially Engaged Art Outside the Bounds of an Artistic Discipline," presented on August 2, 2011 in conjunction with Living as Form, CreativeTime Chief Curator Nato Thompson used one of Bruguera's maxims as a launching point for the public discussion: "I don't want an art that points at a thing. I want an art that is the thing."

Since IM International is a five-year project, Bruguera has time to explore and evaluate her multifaceted approach and adapt the work to each context. IAP Program Officer Karen Demavivas and Intern Emily Chen interviewed Bruguera in the feature below.

IAP: You grew up during the political upheaval of the Cuban Revolution, the daughter of a Cuban diplomat and an English translator and sociologist. How does your upbringing shape your art and what was your experience like when you moved from Cuba to pursue your career in the States?

TB: I grew up while the Cuban Revolution transformed from being the hopeful ideal for the rest of the developing countries and an exemplar case study for the western left, into a revolution that had to endure the debacle of the rest of the socialist countries and adapt its ideological concepts just to be able to survive at any cost. I lived the Cuban Revolution of the Opción Cero, the times of a Revolution without options.

People living in countries with totalitarian regimes do not have the privilege of being trusted by those who govern them. Social trust allows for not having to get involved in politics. People in totalitarian countries do not have the luxury of choosing if they want to be directly involved in the social project they are living in; rather, it becomes their primary duty as citizens. But it is a duty that is really a directive and therefore for most is just simulacra -- where you don't have a real participation or impact in the process but are required to be an enthusiastic crowd.

Here is where dissatisfaction and dishonesty resonates in the construction of such "exemplar" citizens. In this sort of political system, the problem starts when you think like the propaganda to which you are exposed. Propaganda is mostly not to be understood but to be followed; an understanding is assumed to come later but belief in it is assumed to be immediate. There is a syncing problem between what is proposed and what is happening in social behavior and sometimes politics does not want the future behavior to happen now.

IM International may be the farthest project I've ever done from the biennale circle, from the art world even.

In your house, when politics is the job and passion of your parents, it becomes quotidian and, in a way, theoretical because people who are involved in politics inside the power structure have a more abstract relationship with the consequences of their political decisions. Abstract approaches to politics give you a greater satisfaction because you can think in heroic terms, especially when you're distanced from the people who face the consequences of your decisions and you cannot directly see the details of the collateral damages. In Cuba, the government disconnected from the reality lived by its people and at some point it stopped listening to them. Two parallel realities started to coexist: one lived for the pragmatic continuity of a system and another where everything became illegal. The Cuban Revolution's reality was committed to ideas and not to an everyday experience.

Due to the diplomatic work of my father, we were always removed from the reality we were "defending" (the revolutionary project). Revolution was a word, and it was not associated with an attitude towards injustices and desire for change, but rather with a "brand" belonging to a certain generation in power in Cuba and their historical trajectory. It was a word stripped of its meaning. When I came back to live in my country as an adolescent, I was a believer in the revolutionary project and it took me living on the other side of those political decisions to understand the disparities between the projection of the project and the reality of it. My work as an artist exists in this crossroad because I have not stopped believing but I see what is really happening.

All this previous experience between the dreamed society and the real one came very handy once I came to a country like the United States.

But I have to say that I did not move from Cuba to pursue my career in the States. This is in fact one very common assumption when people come to the United States. I still go to Cuba and I'm not interested in pursuing a career in the United States in the way it is assumed in your question. I was here studying for my master's and worked for a few years teaching. Then I left the United States to move to Europe and I just came back for the Immigrant Movement International project but it doesn't mean that I will stay here. The United States, so far, has been a transitory station.

IAP: You have shown works of visual and performing art in previous years at the Venice Biennale, a forum in which national identity and international politics heavily inform presented works. How did these past works pave the road to IM International and your decision to engage local audiences instead of, or in addition to, international ones?

TB: The Venice Biennale is an art event with no context other than the history of itself. It is the hardest exhibition space I've worked at because no matter what you do, it will be seen as an aesthetic experience. It becomes an experience in and of itself where the artist and the piece are responsible for creating the context. The national pavilions are seen since long ago as archaic rhetoric forms. With Harold Szeemann's Aperto, the idea of national identity via a pavilion started taking an interesting turn because it is ridiculous to think that a single artist with a single short-term art proposal can serve as a thermometer of a nation's ideology in a foreign context (We all know by now about the ideological maneuvers behind the fame of the Guernica.). Also, we know how flexible forms are towards ideology. The idea of migration is something we see more and more in these contexts: interchanged identities and national territories as temporal landscapes when artists behave as immigrants.

I have thought lately of starting to participate at those events as an independent. I guess that would be equivalent to participating at the "Pavilion of Oneself."

Those events can give you permission to react personally towards issues greater than yourself but, in general, they don't give you the idea or requirement of responsibility. That is my concern with those art events: thinking without accountability.

IM International may be the farthest project I've ever done from the biennale circle, from the art world even.

I would like to mix two audiences -- the one trained to imagine the impossible and the one that is hardly permitted to do so; the audience that is entitled to be international with the one that is forced to be local even if they come from another place in the world; the audience that can't escape their condition of citizenry and the one that has to be compelled to become a citizen. Both artists and immigrants dream of a different future.

For me, the idea is to bridge the language of contemporary art and that of urgent politics. For that, we need the perspectives of the local as well as the international crowd.

My past works paved the road to IM International in the sense that the work has demanded more and more radicalization in the ways in which it interacts with the real, in the ways in which I have to get away from concerns of whether it is art or not.

IAP: The IM International Headquarters used to be a beauty supply store in Corona, Queens. How did you choose the space? Since you've started your intervention there, have you noticed a shift from local people coming in to look for concrete social services to them opening up to a more creative engagement with the space?

The space is in front of a lumber/hardware store, next to a rather big supermarket and at the exit of the 111 street train stop. I was thinking at the natural traffic already happening at that intersection, of people whom we wanted to work with. I realized that there were no community associations around that focused on immigration and thought about the use of our project in that area.

We have some crowded English classes, classes held by the Paper Orchestra for children under 8 years old, and we are getting there with the cinema club. We hosted those events in collaboration with New Immigrant Community Empowerment and Corona Youth Orchestra. They bring their community and we try to do outreach in ours. It is a balance between what you know you want or need and what we want you to know that you could appreciate. But we have a long way to go. Before this project, I was in crisis about the value of art. By doing this work, I have recovered some faith in the usefulness of art.

IAP: You observed on the IM International blog that the same symbols are used in political rallies until they become clichés, noting that your roommates from Ecuador have lost faith in the traditional modes of effecting reform. On the other side, you question the whole notion of a permanent political truth (that is even able to morph into a cliché) – noting such truth as ephemeral. How do you see the 'Useful Art' of IM International informing or being a new vehicle for these debates?

TB: Well, once you put political on anything you are talking negotiable truth. Even people who understand social timing would be discouraged and faithless after 10 years of waiting for some sort of regularization of their legal situation. If to that you add the fact that the language that is used is completely old, circular and predictable, how are you going to be able to imagine change?

Right now, the dreamers who are fighting for the Dream Act are leading a wonderful performative process. It is one that brilliantly applies the inherited contradictions about the image of immigrants and what its rightfulness means -- not only for the immigrants themselves, but also for the country.

The usefulness of art is what bridges politics and art, artists and non-initiated audiences. Behavior is the language through which society communicates and usefulness is the way in which society pays attention, makes statements, and serves people. If you are interested as an artist to deal with the social and the political, usefulness is the primary medium you work with.

I'm interested in the process of transforming affect into effectiveness.

IAP: How will you collaborate with artists who work with immigration as a theme? How will they bring social survival strategies into the discourse of this project?

TB: We are open for proposals and are mostly interested in artists doing Useful Art and also those who want to act politically with their art practice instead of using politics as a theme to be represented. We are looking for art projects working in hyperrealistic ways. We are interested in art projects combining the language of avant-garde and the one of urgent politics.

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06/23/2011

The Create Collective

This month's featured artist, The Create Collective Inc. (CC), generates and supports arts activities and arts education in under-served community spaces. They conduct free workshops and collaborative projects led by professional artists that enable community members to gain exposure to the arts, explore the uses of the arts, and learn arts-related skills regardless of age, income, race, sexuality or disability. CC also provides education, fundraising and management assistance to artists interested in conducting community workshops and collaborative projects with community members that have limited access to the arts. Their programs seek to address issues such as crime and safety, homelessness, job creation and green initiatives, moving towards a definition of art that embraces its capacity to improve an individual's quality of life and revitalize communities. Last month, they held their second digital photography workshop for three and four year old students at Old First Nursery School, where they showed the preschoolers how to compose photos and shoot subjects exploring the theme of community. Below are pages extracted from the book Community is Windows, assembled by CC after the first photo workshop. All photos courtesy of The Create Collective.

IAP Intern Emily Chen interviewed CC Co-Director Maril Ortiz about their programming and mission.

IAP: Tell us about Tucks and Out of This Space, two of your past visual art projects involving homeless LGBTQ youth at the Ali Forney Center.

CC: The luxury of a space of one's own is not taken for granted by LGBTQ homeless youth. In this workshop series, we were interested in exploring the way socio-economic contexts can be re-imagined through the visual arts. How does the displaced homeless "queer" claim or imagine space in sculpture? Our workshop leader and visiting artist, Carlos Sandoval de Leon, asked the groups to conceptualize significant spaces in their lives from their past, present or future. These exercises began an ongoing creative exchange addressing the importance and the possibilities of inclusion in space both personal and political.

IAP: Did you note any recurring or prominent themes that emerged through the homeless youth's participation in these projects?

CC: We found the work created with the youth at Ali Forney resonated with the larger theme of displacement as it functions locally to exclude various groups of people. As illustrated by the "(dis) located" exhibition presented by the Art for Change Gallery where the sculptures were displayed, there is similar psychological and emotional trauma created by the constraints of exclusion as a product of homelessness, sexual orientation, immigration, economic status, political affiliation, religion, gentrification, and ethnic or racial identity. Highlighting the similarities between the experiences of "exiles" fosters connections between seemingly disparate people. The ultimate aim of this exhibition is to open a dialogue to collectively empower newly built coalitions and lead to further activism. On a personal level, we were deeply touched by how proud the young people of the Ali Forney Center were of being included and seeing their work in a gallery space! Those reactions are the absolute best part of what we do.

IAP: How and why did you approach the Ali Forney Center?

CC: It was a natural fit; CC's Executive Director Chelsea Lemon Fetzer is also a volunteer for the New York Writer's Coalition and conducts weekly writing workshops for LGBTQ homeless youth at the Ali Forney Center Brooklyn location. Working so closely with this group she knew they would benefit greatly from further exposure to different art forms.

IAP: What are some of your upcoming objectives?

CC: Our mobility and openness to partner with NYC artists, alternative venues and community-based organizations allow us to be the most effective in our approach. In the near future, we would like to conduct certain programs in public or private schools especially those deemed high risk. For that scenario, we are currently developing two creative writing workshops that will explore themes of community history, identity and beauty while also addressing bi-lingual literacy. Additionally, we see ourselves working more with traditional art spaces, such as museums, galleries, concert halls and theaters to bring new voices from underserved communities to these venues with exhibitions and events of the collaborative art produced. Whenever possible, these events will be open to the public to further develop new audiences and create greater opportunities.

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04/28/2011

Stanley Ruiz

This month's featured artist is Stanley Ruiz, a Filipino-born industrial designer living and working in Brooklyn. In his works, he fuses the industrial with the natural to bring about new meaning and interpretation to familiar object archetypes. Ruiz's designs are characterized by a raw yet modern aesthetic, reflecting folk influences while utilizing handicraft production techniques. Sustainability is an important factor that he addresses in his work. The below interview was conducted by IAP Program Officer Karen Demavivas. To visit Ruiz's website, please click here.

IAP: Can you share how some folk influences and agricultural resources (such as rice) from your native Philippines inform your raw, modern aesthetic?

SR: Some of the materials I work with are chosen for their nostalgic connection to my childhood and my home land. I use these raw, folk, basic materials such as twigs and stones as "memory triggers." The hope is that the viewer will relate to the object more once he/she sees it, drawing a connection to their own experience. I've been exploring rice recently and looking for ways to incorporate the material in my designs. Rice is very symbolic of my culture, and I'd like to use it as part of my design vocabulary, mainly for the meaning associated with it. The overall aesthetic is ultimately dictated by the materials that I use.

Stanley Ruiz, Rice Chair (Epidermis study), rice husks, latex, styrofoam, 34x28x24 in, 2011. Photo courtesy of Stanley Ruiz.

IAP: You are a supporter of socially responsible community-based crafts, can you share some of the ways you have addressed and continue to address sustainability in your work?

SR: Early in my career, I was a consultant for a Fair Trade organization in the Philippines. I've collaborated with village artisans and micro-industries to produce crafts-based products, mostly by using indigenous materials like coconut, bamboo, abaca, rattan, and shell, among others. It is important to note that in an agricultural economy, cottage industries provide livelihood to a significant number of people. Sustainability is a sensitive topic, and I define it as making use of resources we have while making the same resources available for future generations. Whenever I have control over production, I would specify natural materials that can be replenished quickly, like bamboo or any palm reeds. This is more crucial when it comes to commercial production, where volume is higher. In my independent practice, this has been a challenge, since I have limited access to natural materials here. What I do is I try to combine found natural artifacts like fallen branches, twigs, stones, and other waste products like rice husks, with off the shelf industrial materials like steel and wood.

IAP: Can you comment on the eco-design movement that is growing globally? For example, the eco-design company Osisu in Thailand is revolutionizing furniture design in Southeast Asia by innovatively combining recycled industrial materials with traditional woodwork. Are there other leading examples from the Asian contexts you've worked in?

SR: Yes, eco-design has been consistently growing. I think the greatest achievement of the eco-design movement of recent years is that it was able to break through the mainstream media. There is more awareness now than in the past decade or so. However, to give credit to the pioneers, we need to realize that this eco-consciousness has been around for several years now. Crafts-based manufacturers in Southeast Asia have been exporting "green" products since the 70's. Parallel movements have been seen in Latin America and Africa. I've seen many examples of eco-material innovation in Asia - from bags and accessories made of recycled juice packaging, vases from newspapers, jewelry from shells, etc... to more "industrial craft" process innovation by the likes of Singgih Kartono (Java, Indonesia), and Kenneth Cobonpue (Cebu, Philippines).

IAP: You are now based in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, which has a prominent Asian, mostly Chinese, immigrant community. Does living in this area influence your work and the way you view yourself as an immigrant and creative producer in New York? If so, how?

SR: Living in my neighborhood probably doesn't influence my work directly. At least I haven't thought of it that way yet. However, living in an Asian community makes my life a lot easier due to the availability of familiar food and other goods, which contribute to my well-being. It makes me feel comfortable knowing I can get a rice meal within a 2 block radius! I think living in Sunset Park impacts me more on a "multiple culture-integration" level - meaning I have to first integrate as an immigrant in the US on a macro level, and then secondly, I have to integrate with my co-immigrants in a micro level (or vice-versa).

IAP: In New York, you have been gaining momentum and recognition for your work with the exhibitions "Home Front: American Design Club" at the Museum of Arts and Design and "Re: Design" at the Visual Arts Center of New Jersey this spring; as well as an exhibition at The Vilcek Foundation scheduled for next year. In your opinion, can you share what design qualities and other factors compel these institutions to engage with your work?

SR: I feel that by taking a less common and less predictable approach, I was able to differentiate my practice and develop my own design vocabulary. I think my cultural background and life experience are factors too, as well as my unapologetically lo-fi approach to product design.

IAP: Do you have professional advice for other immigrant designers who wish to engage with the NYC design world?

SR: I would encourage them to spend some time honing their craft and creating something special, then connect to the world by showing their work through exhibitions. Be bold, be prolific, and support your peers and the design community. A thriving design scene will bring about more opportunities for everyone.

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02/18/2011

Miru Kim

This month's featured artist is Miru Kim, a New York based artist. The interview is conducted by IAP intern, Hyeyoung Kim. This is also available in Korean here.

Miru Kim is a Korean artist based in New York. She describes herself as an urban explorer, who discovers urban ruins such as abandoned factories, tunnels, and subway stations. These explorations are captured in her series of photographs entitled Naked City Spleen. On March 24th, Kim will hold a solo exhibition at DOOSAN Gallery New York, introducing a new series of work, The Pig That Therefore I Am, which takes her on a more intimate delving of the skin and an animal’s remarkable yet little known qualities. To visit Miru Kim’s website, please click here.

IAP: You were born in the U.S., raised in Korea, and came back to the U.S. when you were a student. Did this transition change your personality? Does Korean culture still influence you?

MK: Yes. I was raised in Korea and came to the United States when I was thirteen. Moving to the U.S. made me more introverted. When I was a kid, I liked playing a lot and having fun with friends. But in the U.S., it was little bit hard to adapt to a totally new environment because of the different language. Even though I have lived in the U.S. since I was thirteen years old, I am still highly influenced by Eastern thinking and philosophy such as Buddhism and Taoism. This influence can be seen in my new series of work.

IAP: You wanted to be a doctor, and actually took a medical course. Why did you change your career path to be an artist?

MK: I’ve always loved art since I was a child. I received a lot of compliments on my painting when I was an elementary school student. The reason why I started drawing might be due to animals. I like animals a lot, so I wanted to draw them. In the middle my studies in medical school, I realized it wasn’t what I wanted to do. So I decided to go for an MFA in Painting in pursuit of what I love so much. Actually, I majored in Painting at Pratt and I didn’t work on photography at that time. One of my professors discouraged me from doing painting during a critique session. Around that time, I started discovering abandoned places like tunnels, and became very interested in taking photographs. I didn’t plan to be a photographer, but it organically happened resulting in a series of works called Naked City Spleen. In addition, I studied French and Romance Philology during my undergraduate years and I liked the French poet Charles Baudelaire. He also influenced my work and the title of the series Naked City Spleen.

IAP: You seem to be a very shy person. What make you so brave and enthusiastic when you do your work?

MK: I don’t think I’m a different person when I work. I love adventure and challenging norms, so these would be my reasons for being enthusiastic in the process of creating art work.

IAP: Personally, I was very surprised that you took a nude photo in a public place in Seoul, because Korean society is more conservative than Western contexts. Did you get permission to take it? Did something out of the ordinary happen to you?

MK: Actually, I was worried about that, too. To avoid people, I went there in the very early morning before the construction workers came to work. When I was almost done with taking pictures, they started arriving at the site. They didn’t do anything to me and nothing happened. I was sitting on the roof and thinking that people might look at me as a crazy woman who is protesting the demolition of the town. When I was working in Istanbul, I felt more scared because the security guard approached me to say something. Turkey is a Muslim country, so it seemed more harrowing to be naked as a woman in public.

IAP: In Korea, why did you pick the specific place of the demolition zone?

MK: It was hard to find any old abandoned factories in Korea because people are rapidly building new buildings and towns. So the demolition zone was rather easy to find. I think it perfectly depicts how fast the city is redeveloping.

IAP: You are going to present a new series of work featuring an animal for your next solo show at DOOSAN Gallery in March. Tell me why you started the new series and what you wish to convey to the audience.

MK: For my upcoming solo exhibition in March, I deal with pigs as the main subject. When I was in an anatomy class in medical school, I learned that pigs were physically similar to humans, especially their organs. People normally consider pigs as lazy and dirty, but their skin has actually been researched as relevant material for implants in human skin. I think the skin is a perfect organ to incorporate inner sensations and the outside world. From a psychological perspective, the skin represents the meeting point between the interior and exterior realms of the body. The body and soul are viewed as separate in the Western world, but it exists at the same time and place in Eastern culture. Based on Buddhism and Taoism, the soul intimately co-exists in both animals and humans. In this regard, to me, the mingling of my skin with that of a pig’s is the act of interacting and communicating our bodies and souls. In Fokus Lódz Biennale 2010, I’ve done a performance with mud from the pig farm. This mud also expresses the similarity between pigs and humans. In Eastern philosophy, the soil is where we (both pig and human) come from, live, and revert back to after life ends. (Her writing entitled "The Pig That Therefore I AM" is available here.)

IAP: What factors inspire you to build an idea for work?

MK: Perhaps interacting with other artists influence my art works. I actually like the Classics in the form of a book, art, music, and opera. My sister majored in Classical Art History and Archeology. Through this environment, I was always exposed to the Classics. I’ve visited many classical art museums and I’ve studied art history, too. When I was a high school student, I was fascinated with Impressionism, however, I prefer Expressionism now. My favorite artists are El Greco and the Vienna Succession artists such as Egon Schiele. Recently, I’ve been obsessed with Gustave Moreau.

IAP: Tell me a little bit about Naked City Art, which you run as an art organization.

MK: There is an event space at the top of my building. It inspired me to throw a party with people and I wanted to promote artists in New York City. That’s why I started running an art organization and hold two auctions there. Right now, I don’t have any plans for it because I’m so busy with my own works. Organizing an event and running an art organization require a lot of time and work. Since I love art, I am also highly interested in collecting art works, mostly by emerging artists and students. Currently, many artists in New York are suffering from making a living and competing with each other. It is hard to truly network and gather as artists. I’m sad because many artists used to live Downtown where I live because it was a much better environment for artists to focus on art surrounded by bohemian influence. A big part of it was because the rent was free for artists. Due to this current climate in the art world, I think that artists trading work has become a challenge, too. I hope that artists can trade their works a lot someday. I make an effort to interact with artists, but New Yorkers are always so busy, so it’s more difficult than I expected.

IAP: There are a lot of immigrant artists in New York; can you give them a piece of advice to survive in the art world?

MK: I recommend that artists study. It’s very important to improve the quality of your work. Also, New York is a place where much competition is going on. If an artist is only working in the studio by him/herself, he or she can’t survive in the art world, especially in New York. I was really introverted, but I changed a lot after I came to New York because I tried to meet a lot of people and build a network. Social networking is one of the crucial processes to cultivate in order be a good artist in New York. In addition, you should enjoy what you are doing. Enjoy, but don’t be shallow. If you are just having fun without any knowledge, people will easily catch on to your ignorance. Visit galleries to see and study the current art scene and keep experimenting on your work. Finally, learning language and writing skills are very crucial to being a good artist. Since I majored in French and Romance Philology, I write a lot whether or not it is in relation to my work. I think writing is a tool of expressing oneself, therefore, an artist should write well. Although there are a lot of artists in New York, I don’t think many artists can express or write well about themselves.

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12/14/2010

Rita Silva

This month, our IAP Intern Flavia Berindogue, a Brazilian artist and designer, interviews Rita Silva, a Brazilian artist based in New York. The interview was conducted in Portuguese and translated into English. For the English version, please click here.

Rita Silva é uma dançarina Afro-Brasileira de Salvador, Bahia que vive no Brooklyn desde 1994. É uma artista e professora de dança. Para ela, liberdade está conectada à dança. Entre suas performances estão: danças dos Orixás (Espíritos ou Divindades Africanas) na tradição do Candomblé; solo improvisações para Oshun e Oyá; solo a cappela; samba de roda; danças caboclas; além de cantar e tocar instrumentos para capoeira. Como professora de dança Rita participou do Folk Feet Program no Brooklyn Arts Council (BAC) e conduziu varios workshops de dança em escolas primárias e secundárias.

IAP: O Candomblé foi trazido ao Brazil durante a colonização, encarnado no corpo e na fé dos negros africanos. Cultuado através das baladas e cantos, era uma forma dos escravos extravazarem com as adversidades da escravidão e de recuperarem suas referências africanas. Ainda hoje, é uma cultura forte e presente nas artes brasileiras, notadamente no samba, e um dos simbolos do Nordeste Brasileiro. Como o Candomblé veio fazer parte da sua vida?

RS: Através da minha Tia Isaura que era filha de Santo do Candomblé.

IAP: Orixás significam "Espírito de Luz" e são considerados divindades do Candomblé, que representa os elementos da natureza. Quais as divindades que você representa através da dança?

RS: Iansã (Yansa), dona dos ventos e das tempestades; e Oxum, Mãe das águas doces e da beleza.


IAP: Os movimentos na dança são intensos, nos reportam aos rituais tribais. Ao mesmo tempo são muito sensuais. O corpo parece não ser apenas usado para uma expressão visual, mas parece assumir o papel de um texto, que através dos gestos narra histórias de um determinado grupo social. Qual a importância e o significado dos gestos na dança aos Orixás?

RS: Para mim os gestos da dança aos Orixás significam e representam a força e os elementos da natureza em sua forma de expressão.

IAP: Você está divulgando o folklore brasileiro para uma geração onde o consumo e a tecnologia fazem parte do dia a dia deles. Como é pensar o Candomblé, uma religião extremamente voltada à natureza, com a Modernidade? Quais são os desafios para você como professora em repassar aos seus alunos sua crença naturalistica?

RS: Eu não uso da crença do Candomblé para ensinar a dança do folclore brasileiro. Eu me expresso com todo respeito à natureza como qualquer ser humano que vive e está conectado nessa planeta Terra. No meu entendimento sobre natureza é que se não tentarmos entender que estamos vivos por que a mãe natureza existe, dentro de todos nós estaremos completamente perdidos nesse planeta. Por exemplo, se ficarmos sem beber água ou se não tivermos oxigênio para respirar, não existirá vida no corpo humano. Essa é a maneira que eu me expresso quando eu passo minha mensagem através da dança.

IAP: O Brazil é um país rico nas artes folclóricas, mas que pouco valoriza suas tradições. Assim como outras expressões folclóricas, o Candomblé não é incluído na educação como sendo uma importante referência para a cultura brasileira. Basicamente, está concentrado no estado da Bahia. Você acredita que fora do Brazil seu trabalho ganha mais reconhecimento?

RS: Para mim foi diferente. Eu sempre fui reconhecida com a minha dança folclórica no Brasil (gracas a Deus), e pela Professora Emilia Biancardi Ferreira. No Colégio Severino Vieira conheci a fundadora e diretora do grupo folclórico Viva Bahia. Fazendo parte do grupo como dançarina, tive a oportunidade de viajar por muitas cidades do Brasil, da América Latina, Europa e Estados Unidos, bem antes de vir viver fora do nosso país. No Brasil, fundei meu próprio grupo folclórico chamado Bahia Magia que sobreviveu por mais de nove anos. Viajamos muito com o departamento de Turismo da Bahia (Bahiatursa) representando o folclore da Bahia. Assim, tive a sorte de viver a minha arte e ser reconhecida em nossa terra muito antes de vir aos Estados Unidos.

IAP: Onde podemos assistir à sua performance?

RS: Nesse momento nao tenho show previsto para esse final de ano. O nosso primero show está previsto para Fevereiro de 2011.

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This month, our IAP Intern Flavia Berindogue, a Brazilian artist and designer, interviews Rita Silva, a Brazilian artist based in New York.

Silva is an Afro-Brazilian dancer from Salvador, Bahia and has been living in Brooklyn since 1994. She is a working and teaching artist. To her, freedom is attached to dance. She performs the following: dances for the orixá (African spirit or deity) in the candomblé tradition; solo improvisations for Oshun and Oya; solo a cappela; samba de roda; caboclo dances; as well as singing and playing instruments for capoeira. She was part of the Brooklyn Arts Council (BAC) Folk Feet Program as a teaching artist and held many dance workshops at elementary and high schools throughout Brooklyn.

IAP: The Candomblé was brought to Brazil during its period of colonization, incarnated in the body and faith of the Africans who were brought to the country by force. Worshipped through dance and song as a form to overcome the adversity of slavery and reclaim Africans references, it is still a strong culture, influencing Brazilian art forms such as the samba. How did the Candomblé become part of your life?

RS: I began through my aunt Isaura who was a Saint's daughter of Candomblé.

IAP: Orixás mean "Spirits of Light" and are considered deities of Candomblé representing the elements of nature. What deity do you represent in your dance?

RS: I dress for the divinity Iansã (Yansa) who represents winds and storms; and Oxum, mother of sweet waters and beauty.

IAP: The movements of the dance are very intense, at times reminiscent of tribal rituals, but at the same time very sensual. The body does not only express a visual action, but it seems to assume the paper of a text, where through the gestures it tells stories of a social group. What is the importance and significance of the gestures in the dance?

RS: For me the gestures of the dance for Orixás represent the power and the elements of nature in its expression and form.

IAP: You are spreading Brazilian folk arts to a generation in which consumption and technology are part of everyday life. What are the challenges for you as a teacher in passing your beliefs about nature through forms such as Candomblé to your students?

RS: I don't use the belief of the Candomblé to teach the dance of the Brazilian folklore. I totally express with a respect for nature as any human being that lives and is connected with the Earth. In my thoughts on nature, if you don't understand that we are livings creatures due to the fact that Mother Nature exists, then we will be completely lost in this planet. For example, if there is no water or oxygen, there will be no life in the human body. This is the way I express and this is the message I try to pass through the dance.

IAP: Brazil is rich in folk arts, but the country does not give a real value to these traditions. As with many other folk arts, Candomblé is not included in school education as an important part of the Brazilian culture. This tradition is basically concentrated in Bahia state. How were you able to receive recognition for your work?

RS: I had a different experience. I was always recognized as a dancer of Brazilian folk arts in Brazil, and also recognized by the prominent teacher Emilia Biancardi Ferreira. At Severino Vieira School, I met the founder and director of the national folk group Viva Bahia. I became part of this group as a dancer and I had the opportunity to travel with Viva Bahia to many cities in Brazil and other parts of South America as well as Europe and the United States before I left my home country. In Brazil, I established a folk group called "Bahia Magia" that survived nine years. We traveled to many places with the Bahia Tourism Department (Bahiatursa) representing the Bahian folk arts. Thus, I had the luck to show my art and be recognized in Brazil before I came to the United States to live.

IAP: Where can we see your performance?

RS: At this moment I do not have show foreseen for this end of year. Our upcoming show will be in February 2011. You can contact me at silvarita8@gmail.com.

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10/20/2010 Mathilde Roussel Giraudy Mathilde Roussel Giraudy,ça pousse!. Soil, wheat seeds, structure from recycled metal. This month, our IAP Intern Flavia Berindogue, a Brazilian artist and designer, interviews Mathilde Roussel Giraudy, a French artist based in New York. IAP: You are an artist who has worked with different media, but in most of your work, vestiges of your childhood in France are always a constant. Do you think your distance from your home country brought to you the reminiscence of traditions and moments from your past life? Sometimes we understand places more clearly when we move away from them. MRG: Being away from my country inevitably made me wander in the memories of my past in France. I find inexhaustible inspiration in my childhood, it brings back to life elements that define my identity. My work drawn from my memories is also tightly woven to my present life in NY. In my dreams, I travel back to France and it allows me to explore my memories and past emotions in a very abstract and symbolic way. I think about jumping in the giant pile of wheat seeds as if they were oceans. I recall breathing the perfume of the fresh washed sheets, billowing in the wind. But there are holes in my memories. I try to catch these thoughts of the past, and as a reminder, I make artwork intended to awaken some personal emotions in other people's minds. Sculpture helps me to recreate the past in a metaphorical way. I seek to translate the experience of being away from home through the psychological impact it has on the body, the objects, and their absence. IAP: In the urban frenzy of contemporary life, we are often so hurried that we lack a consciousness in what we do, what we consume. You grew up in a farmhouse in France, where natural foods and resources were part of your everyday life. How is your work and your life in New York City now informed by this upbringing? Perhaps we can discuss your work ça pousse! (it's growing!), in which the body is used as a reference between man and nature, to reflect on this. MRG: Growing up on a farm in France made me conscious of the importance of our relation to the land. Being aware of the provenance of food was evident. The natural world, ingested as food becomes a component of the human being. Living in a city like New York makes things more difficult. People don't pay attention to what they eat because there is an effort to make. But there are more and more solutions against this problem. A lot of people are now growing their own food, participating in food coops, and buying at the farmers markets. Through ça pousse! anthropomorphic and organic sculptures made of soil and wheat grass seeds, I strive to show that food, it's origin, it's transport, has an impact on us beyond its taste. The power inside it affects every organ of our body. Observing nature and being aware of what and how we eat makes us more sensitive to food cycles in the world - of abundance, of famine - and allows us to be physically, intellectually and spiritually connected to a global reality. IAP: In your works, the body seems to be used as support for your memories. Is the body used as a form to confess, to demonstrate your past experiences? MRG: The body is very important to my work. It is a language, every part of it reveals thoughts and feelings. It can be fragmented, metamorphosed. The mental is never independant from the body. Our body carries all the invisible marks of our past experiences. It reveals the most universal of human existence. I try to express what resides inside the body rather than outside. IAP: Embroidery is a beautiful old French tradition. Floating Memory is a work where you used hand stitching sewn by your grandmother. I believe it brings to the spectator reminiscences of their own memories. We all have some object that bespeaks of the past, but maybe we don't give a real value to it until it is exposed to our eyes, or until some story is told about it. Could you talk about this work? MRG: My grandmother always had a fabric embroidered handkerchief with her. She kept it in her sleeve or under her pillow at night. In her generation, it was part of women's dowery thus a mark of their identity. She gave me a few I kept as a precious heritage from her. After she passed away, I stitched together the 40 handkerchiefs I had inherited and made it float in the air in homage to her. It creates a map of her life. Natural holes in the fabric from the wear of time serve as metaphors for memory and the little scars accumulated over a lifetime. Mathilde Roussel Giraudy,Floating Memory, (exhibited at the 2009 Dumbo Art Festival, Brooklyn). Fabric handkerchiefs, thread, fans, 8x14 feet. Photo © Matthieu Raffard. >back to top

08/25/2010

Tattfoo Tan

IAP Program Officer Karen Demavivas interviews Tattfoo Tan.

IAP: You began as a painter and it was through color that you came into food. Beyond conventional matters of still life, how did this connection translate into activism?

TT: The switch from a studio to post studio practice was a simple transition for me. I saw a disconnect between art and the public. I wanted an art form that is more connected to life itself; an art form that resonates with the public; an art form that communicates a message that is not only intriguing and beautifying to look at, but spreads a bigger message that is beyond the wall of the gallery.

In the search to eat healthier myself, I created Nature Matching System, which is a colorful grid that was inspired by the skin colors of fruits and vegetables. They get their colors from phytonutrients, which are compounds that play key roles in health and reduce the risk of heart disease and cancer. This project was manifested as two murals in DUMBO, Brooklyn and Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan. A free table mat was distributed to remind users to take their daily dose of color as they sit at the table for their daily meal. Now that all the table mats have been distributed, I have a screensaver of these colors to download from my website www.tattfoo.com, which continues the above efforts.

IAP: Where you live on Staten Island has the fastest growing population among the five boroughs with a recent influx of a diversity of immigrants. Can you share how your work has engaged with the concerns of these newcomers?

TT: In general, Staten Island is often neglected in policy dialogue, conferences and events due in part to its geography, low overall population density, limited public transit system, and unfamiliar neighborhood characteristics. Thus, public programs and initiatives that might apply to other New York City neighborhoods are rarely extended to this borough. Compared to the rest of the City, the borough offers less social services and outreach to recent immigrants and low income families. Some consistently voiced concerns are a lack of youth programming and activities.

My work engages with the borough's low income neighborhoods of St. George, Stapleton and Clifton/Park Hill. A recent influx of Hispanic, West African, Eastern European, Caribbean and Middle Eastern immigrants to these neighborhoods has both complicated and diversified the food landscape. For instance, while ethnic food stores proliferate, access to quality and affordable produce remains a concern. The neighborhoods of Stapleton and Park Hill are served by only a small number of food retailers and supermarkets that are particularly difficult to access on a regular basis, which negatively impacts the food purchasing habits of residents. Citizens rely primarily on public buses with limited routes and schedules. Additionally, there is only one Greenmarket serving these neighborhoods and the entire borough of half a million people.

These immigrants' lack of access to good quality, healthy food is linked to the global crisis of industrial food production and distribution, which in turn, negatively impacts health. The economy is linked to the dependency of agro-business on oil and pharmaceuticals for the cheap production of food-like substances. The food industry uses more fossil fuel than any other sector of the economy. Contributing to the fossil fuel costs of the food system are: gas-powered farming equipment; chemical fertilizers made from natural gas; pesticides made from petroleum; gas-powered food processing machines; oil based packaging materials; and refrigerated transportation.

Our access to food directly impacts our health with healthcare quality declining and insurance costs escalating. Chronic disease due to the subsidized production of corn and soy products has needlessly been on the rise in our children for years, and has put a strain on our medical system. We need education regarding the real price of sustainable, healthy food. Our food system is at a critical point: we either reconnect to local resources, or we risk the health of ourselves, our communities, and the land. In response to the scare of tainted food supplies, our food production and delivery systems need to be re-examined and overhauled.

I engage immigrant communities through my project Sustainable. Organic. Stewardship. or S.O.S. It is a multi-faceted and year-long horticulture and cultivation project that includes social, cultural and artistic practices. Activities include panels, workshops, and tours. By acknowledging the shortage of food on a global scale, we look at how we eat, what we eat and how we can grow our own food. We seek to understand the origin and politics of food and labor. Through this project, we search, relearn and revive the lost knowledge of natural apothecaries, herbalism and foraging.

IAP: You are now working with a local laundromat in your neighborhood as part of your residency at the Laundromat Project. What participatory activities have you carried out so far?

TT: Every other Saturday from June to August this summer, I have been holding workshops at Victory Laundromat as a way to provide green alternatives and create change in my neighborhood on Staten Island. There are many immigrants from the West Indies (such as Trinidad) and Latin America here. I've engaged my neighbors in how to compost, raise egg-laying chickens, exchange organic seeds, and recycle plastic bottles as planters for their flowers and other plants. I've also led a bike tour through the area's community gardens. This week, I'm showing people how to make seed balls out of a mix of organic seeds, dirt, clay and water. They end up looking like little chocolate truffles which you can throw into any lot or garden where they flourish into a diversity of flowers.

IAP: What were your neighbors' reactions?

TT: People's reactions have been positive and spontaneous. They get into the process, especially children who really have a lot of fun with it. In the composting workshop, they really loved the worms. I just want to plant green seeds in people's consciousness so they know that they have the power to green up the neighborhood. I also want to provide them with tools to make greener choices in their lives.

IAP: As an immigrant among immigrants in your neighborhood here on Staten Island, how do you find living here and how do people treat you?

TT: It's very diverse, which is one of the reasons I wanted to live on this part of the Island. There are a variety of ethnic foods here: Jamaican, Trinidadian, Polish, Mexican, and Sri Lankan to name a few. I am very open to trying different kinds. I also appreciate the diversity of languages you hear in this area. As for how people treat me, well, it's New York, everyone pretty much comes from everywhere else. People just embrace you.

IAP: You've collaborated with many artists who have a similar sensibility to your work. In what ways would you like to engage more with food activists outside the art world?

TT: As far as collaborating with artists, we recently hosted a roundtable conversation about urban gardening at Arario Gallery on July 22, 2010. These meet-ups usually result in more collaborations with all parties involved. It forms a rhizomatic network of like-minded advocates.

When it comes to engaging food activists outside the art world, I find it's more successful when they reach out to me and we can then figure out how to collaborate and help each other. The challenge is that we are all busy in our own kinds of duties. If food activists feel that a project needs an artistic view and they reach out to me, then great; otherwise, it just doesn't click in some sense. It's about needs; we all have certain skills that need to mesh.

IAP: What are your upcoming projects?

TT: I have been paying attention to bicycles around me when I'm walking about in New York. Last year, I saw a bike repair vendor in the Bronx near East Tremont Avenue and today I saw another one on Houston Street and 2nd Avenue. Bike culture is growing; can this small industry grow? It seems like the mobile repair shop is to serve those who are at the poverty line. This idea peaks my interest to investigate further into the cargo capability of a bicycle and how this may help in finding one's livelihood. In India, there are vendors that use a bicycle to make a difference in their lives. Velocommerce is all about the mobility of property and it challenges notions of ownership and private capital. It is special because it exists at the intersection of entrepreneurship, mobility, sustainability, grassroots innovation, cultures, and local, decentralized economies. I am trying to figure out how I can adapt this concept in my art practice. How about becoming a GREENwala (i.e. a green vendor)?

I will be debuting my S.O.S. Mobile Classroom project at Farm City Fair on September 12th, 2010. It consists of a multi-usage cargo bicycle, which acts as a mobile classroom with green education tools when parked in the street or doing a workshop in a school or community event. It will be a catalyst for an interesting green conversation and spreading the message. This mobile classroom will engage visitors by doing workshops and providing a real to life scale model of what a mobile garden and a compost bin would be by hauling all the necessary equipment along.

In September, I am also scheduled to finish my public art project S.O.S. Pledge, which is commissioned by Percent for Art Program, Department of Cultural Affairs, City of New York and School Construction Authority. S.O.S. Pledge is an appropriation of the Pledge of Allegiance with a green mission. The gold-painted text is etched on Carrara Venatino Marble mural that is 10 feet high and 27 feet 9 inches wide. This work will call upon young students to be green stewards when they attend school every day. It provides an understanding of what we can do and change in our own lives: each of our individual actions are small, but our collective impact is big.

IAP: What are some ways that the public can find out and engage more with the intersection of art and food activism?

TT: They could always subscribe to my email blast and come to an event and network.

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6/11/2010

Hai Zhang

NYFA Immigrant Artist Project interviews photographer Hai Zhang

IAP: Tell us a bit about your life's path: Where did you grow up and when did you first come to the US? What was that experience like? What were your biggest struggles upon arriving?

HZ: I grew up in Kunming, a tourist town in southwest of China. After high school, in 1994 I left my hometown to Chongqing for the college where I studied architecture. I came to the US for graduate school and landed in Troy, Alabama on Jan 3, 2000. I don't think my experience was that much different from many other Chinese students' although I guess Alabama was a little bit more extreme. The feeling was kind of mixed and complicated. The rural setting of the town compared to how the US was portrayed in the media was the big impact. And the other interesting thing was that in Troy, where I attended business school, I was seeking some change in my life, but I didn't know why. Obviously, the change didn't go very far, after one semester, I went to Miami and back to architecture. Apart from the struggle in language, I think the other biggest struggle was to balance my existing mindset and the wide-open opportunities I had to explore the new world. Maybe I didn't realize this struggle, but when I recall my memory, I think it was the biggest one. The struggle turned to a tremendous opportunity for me to do a photographic project, To Kill A Mockingbird.

IAP: Did you already think of yourself as an artist, and specifically a photographer, when you came to New York? Did that artistic identity complicate or ease your transition in any way?

HZ: No, I didn't consider myself as anything when I came to New York in 2001 after graduate school in Miami. I visited New York twice before I moved and fell in love with the diversity and art scenes in this city. [...] However, I didn't photograph that much until a few months before I moved to Washington, DC at the end of 2002. And on the contrary, for that specific moment, photography helped me to create my own nesting world which was alien to the reality, although they were always related.

IAP: How did you move from architecture, in which you hold a master's degree, into photography? Does your background in architecture continue to influence your artistic practice?

HZ: I guess everyone deserves the second chance in the life. I started taking photographs intensively in 2003 when I was in Washington, DC and met with a great photographer, Hector Emanuel, who encouraged me to keep shooting. And I started to create a little website to show my pictures to my friends. I was working on photography and architecture simultaneously for a long while. Photography does offer me more opportunities to explore the world and to know more stories, which also demands more dedication, energy and time. So at the beginning of 2008, photography won the lead. And yes, my background in architecture definitely influenced my sense of space and environment. But I think the influence isn't unilateral.

IAP: Many of your projects involve both domestic and international travel – what are you looking for when you travel to these new locations to shoot?

HZ: To explore the new places and new things is always one of my best interests. It is an incredible feeling when I discover something through my own eyes. I would like to leave the place to unfold itself. However, I'd also like to visit the same place and same person several times. I am looking to better understand the place and people. Stories are always what I am very much interested in hearing.

IAP: Clearly architecture plays a role in your most recent project on people's housing in China, which you will be presenting at the Brooklyn Library next week. How were you able to fund this project? And given its socially critical nature, what, if anything, do you hope to see as a result?

HZ: It is a project of 2008-2009 Rafael Vinoly Architects Research Fellowship. We won the fellowship through an open call for proposals at the end of 2008. So the funding for the research activities during the year of 2009 and sometime of this year was from the fellowship. They are very open to the different research approaches. So we have been able to combine photography, architecture and several other aspects together. We are very grateful for this fellowship that made the project possible. I worked on the project with my research partner, Marcel Baumler who is currently in Shanghai and collaborated with Guochuan Feng on the Shenzhen part.

Cities are composed of architecture and artificial spaces. However, in their complexity, they are much more than buildings and so-called forward-looking images. Their essence is made up of the people who shape them. Thus, from the very beginning, I wanted to focus on the people. We aim to represent different voices and perspectives and pus the people into the forefront of the discussion. We hope the project can stimulate more social debate and bridge experience in China from a local and social point of view to a wider audience. To talk at the McKinley Park Library in Brooklyn to the community of Chinese immigrants there is a great opportunity for us to start engaging a broader audience. We are also working on the publication with the Rafael Vinoly Architects Research Fellowship and expecting the book later this year.

Come see Hai present his project at the McKinley Park branch of the Brooklyn Library on Thursday, June 17th at 3 pm - See the Headlines section for details.

Visit Hai Zhang's website: www.oceanmate.com

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5/14/2010

Nicolás Dumit Estévez

On April 15, 2010 I, Nicolas Dumit Estevez, collected a jar of water from the river of the borough I call home and mixed it with sixteen drops of Holy Water. One drop for each year I have been visiting and later living in the Bronx: 1994-2010. I then poured the contents of the jar into the currents of the river, thus blessing it.

Nicolás is a Bronx-based artist working in performance art, public interventions and art in everyday life. Many of his projects involve extensive research and lived experience, making reference to ritual and history as well as the intricacies of the contemporary social context.

IAP: How important is your background - namely, your Dominican origins - to your work?

(This next response is taken from from an interview between Nicolás and Linda Montano - read the full text here.)

NDE: In my case, Dominicanidad (Domincanness) has meant undertaking an on-going search of all of the elements that inform who I might be. I am Dominican because I am a: New Yorker, Bronxite, Lebanese-Dominican, Dominican-York, Lebanese, Catalan, Venezuelan, Haitian, African, New Berliner, Spaniard, and who knows what else. I came to the realization that I am engaged in an undertaking that can bring my identity to some kind of dissolution or collapse. This process I am pointing to has brought me at times to an uncertain territory. I am up for this. Better there that than spending life in a prefab Lalaland.

IAP: How have you addressed these matters through your work?

NDE: During 2008-09 I journeyed from my home in the South Bronx to my birthplace in Santiago de los Treinta Caballeros in order to trace and confirm any genealogical roots that I or my family may possibly have to the neighboring Republic of Haiti. I resort to legal and medical procedures such as record searching and medical tests, as well as to subjective personal accounts. My journey includes visits to Moca and Guayubín where I reconnect with some of my maternal and paternal family members. Borderless [the project's title] was a private action, formatted as a bi-national public intervention that dismantles the often-unsuccessful search for a Spanish (i.e. Caucasian) heritage by Dominican society at large, and its rejection of an indelible African background of which Haiti serves as its constant reminder. I go to great lengths to prove what most Dominicans would prefer to bury as deeply as possible: any relationship with our neighbors.

IAP: How does the action pictured above - "The Blessing of the Bronx River" - tie into your ongoing project Born Again?

NDE: I was born in Santiago de los Treinta Caballeros in the Dominican Republic and lived for fourteen years in Manhattan. In 2004 I moved to the US mainland [aka the Bronx]. Born Again is a Bronx-wide participatory social sculpture leading to two exhibitions in the Bronx, dealing with the perceptions and misperceptions by locals themselves as well as by non-residents that have since the 1960's shaped significantly the identity of the inhabitants of the borough. Born Again brings to light some of the most debated topics in our nation: immigration, race, class, governmental and environmental neglect, social inequality and the resurgence of cities with the subsequent impact of gentrification and the displacement of its long-term residents. Equally relevant is Born Again's interest in bringing to the forefront the subject of assimilation into the US and the dated metaphor of this country as a melting pot.

The final live aspect of the Born Again will be a public ceremony for which I invite two prominent Bronx native residents, William Aguado and Susan Fleminger to baptize me as a Bronxite in the waters of the Bronx River. This passage marks my formal transition from Lebanese-Dominican to Dominican York (a Dominican who had settled permanently in New York City) and my birth/rebirth as a native son of the area of the borough that, since my arrival in the US, has provided me with a steady income, a solo exhibition and a place that I call home.

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4/2/2010

Tamara Kostianovsky

Immigrant Artist Project interviews Featured Artist and 2009 NYFA Sculpture Fellow Tamara Kostianovsky

IAP: Tell us a little bit about yourself.

TK: I was born in Jerusalem, Israel in 1974 to Argentinean parents who returned to Argentina a few years after my birth. I received a Bachelor's degree from the National School of Fine Arts "Prilidiano Pueyrredón" in Buenos Aires. In the year 2000, as the big default of Argentina's economy was about to take place, I had the opportunity to travel to the United States to study art. I received a scholarship from the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts in Philadelphia and graduated with an MFA in 2003. In the past five years, I received grants from the Pollock-Krasner Foundation, the Pennsylvania Council in the Arts and the New York Foundation for the Arts.

IAP: Coming to the US was not the first time you migrated across national borders - Do you still consider yourself Israeli, and Argentinean, and American? Or some or none of the above?

TK: I was only two years old when my parents decided to move back to Argentina from Israel. I spent my most important formative years in Argentina, therefore I consider myself Argentinean.

IAP: How does this series of migrations in your personal background come through in your work?

TK: I think that the changes of residence put me in an eternal outsider's position. I'm not from here, nor from there, and that gives me a certain objectivity that allows me to look at things from a distance. In the recent years, I have used starting points in my artwork that have to do with specific aspects of my upbringing in Argentina, but in the process of working with them, I tried to turn these into images that aren't specific to any one culture but can reflect something universal, such as the concepts of migration, violence, and the relationship that we have to our bodies today.

IAP: There's a lot of meat – real and faux – in your sculptures, as well as other non-traditional materials. What led you to use these materials? What can you do or communicate with these materials that you couldn't achieve with, say, plaster or stone?

TK: A few years ago, reflecting upon Argentina's history, I realized that most Argentineans were exposed to the recurring cycles of bloody rule and violence prevalent since the country's independence from Spain. I soon understood that when violence is commonplace it becomes accepted, even expected. I also recognized that violence is often the disease of a society, and not that of an individual. After this realization, I started seeing the skinned and dismembered bodies of cattle that circulate daily through the meat markets in Argentina, not as symbolic of national pride and collective identity (as commonly perceived by the locals), but as ghosts or sacrificial lambs of a direct or indirect violence that reigns in the country. I thought that being bombarded with this violence would help me understand it or give me a thicker skin against it, so I started collecting photos of carcasses of livestock. By 2007, my studio was covered with hundreds of images of gutted pigs, butchered cows, and skinned animal heads. Around the same time, I was trying to give away some clothes that I no longer wore, but unlike the need for goods of all kinds that many experience in South America, very few in the East Coast of the United States were interested in these kinds of donations. I decided to make naturalistic sculptures of slaughtered cattle out of all of the red, white and cream-colored clothing I had. After I ran out of colors, I cannibalized the rest of my wardrobe to finish the series, which was eventually exhibited in 2008. The sculptures made out of recycled clothing allude to meat as flesh. Through the use of clothing, the animal bodies somehow become "human". The sculptures carry the heavy weight of death, political torture, violence, and war.

IAP: When and where can our readers check out some of your work? – any upcoming shows in the area or elsewhere?

TK: Some of my most recent works will be shown at the Scion Foundation in Los Angeles, CA during the summer. I have some work up at the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco and a small collection of early works is now showing at the Jersey City Museum. Some recent pieces will travel to Basel this summer, but I'm really excited about a solo exhibition I'm getting ready for that will take place in Milan, Italy in 2011.

Visit Tamara's Website: www.tamarakostianovsky.com

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3/19/2010

Golnar Adili

Immigrant Artist Project speaks with 2009 NYFA Printmaking/Drawing/Artists Books Fellow and NYFA Mentor Golnar Adili

IAP: Tell us a little bit about your personal history – where did you grow up? When did you come to New York? How has this influenced your work?

GA: I was born in Virginia and we moved to Iran when I was four shortly after the 1979 revolution in Iran. I pretty much lived there until I was 18 with my mother. My father who was a leftist had to flee Iran two years after the revolution due to the regimes intolerance of political diversity. I cam to the US to go to college. I came to New York in 2004 after graduating from University of Michigan. It was instantly home. The energy here is very reminiscent of Tehran.

IAP: You're trained as an architect. How did you transition into visual art? How does that training influence your current artistic practice?

GA: To go into architecture for me was not a well researched step. I was surrounded by architect friends who were really amazing people. My father was a trained architect as well. I intuitively chose to study architecture, and I think this was a great idea for me. I think that architecture education is priceless. It gave me a systematic thinking over which I organize my emotional ideas for my work.

IAP: You're going back to Iran soon. Why now? Do you plan to work on your art while you're there, or bring home any raw material (in the metaphorical sense, probably) that could become part of future work?

GA: I just came back from a one month trip to Iran. My relationship with Iran is complicated like many other Iranians who have left due to the oppressive nature of the regime. I go back as much as I can to stay connected. I would love to spend more time, or perhaps live there soon since I am at a place in my life where I am craving to reconnect to my roots, people and culture. When I was there, I did not have time to make art, I only soaked it all up. My work is heavily autobiographical which allows me to ponder on the longings created by all the separations I have endured due to the political situation in Iran. So Iran and being Iranian is an integral part of my work.

IAP: Do you have any ongoing or upcoming exhibits or events our readers can check out?

GA: Yes! Please come to the Lower East Side Print Shop on the 24th of March. I am in a group show called Out of the Chaos and Darkness. The work presented here is a series I'm working on currently.

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2/19/2010

Jessica Kaire

Jessica Kaire, Plush Knuckles (from the CONFORT series). Photos by Eduardo Benchoam.

Immigrant Artist Project had the chance recently to interview Featured Artist Jessica Kaire. Here's what she had to say:

IAP: Tell us a little bit about yourself

JK: I'm the product of immigrant Syrian Jews, the Guatemalan civil war of the '80s and a North American education. The role of art has transformed from an instinctive language into an engine for revisiting my background as well as a means to break free from my comfort zones. I explore basic needs such as esteem, love, belonging and safety through an object-body relationship. Currently, my main focus is transforming art spaces and artworks into therapeutic ones for myself and the viewers, who in turn become users.

IAP: What's the story behind the "Confort" series? What does it have to do with Guatemala, where you're from, and New York, where you live and work?

JK: "Confort", pure anglicism, represents a fictional brand of objects that are meant to offer a sense of protection for the user/buyer, the same way a safety blanket does for a child. The project speaks of a culture that has learned to adapt to violent climates instead of reacting against them. Even though New York's issues about safety are of a different character from those of my hometown, I begin to see a strong resemblance in regards to people's response and how easily, say a year from now, walking through a full-body x-ray machine at the airport may become as casual as breathing.

IAP: Describe the experience of moving to the US: When and why did you come? What were your initial impressions? What was most difficult? Did you know you wanted to work as an artist here in New York?

JK: After interrupting my education and leaving New York in 2003 due to a raise in tuition at Hunter College, I returned to Guatemala. I began to get involved in the local art scene and to develop close relationships with other Guatemalan artists as well as showing my work at spaces such as 9.99/proyecto, XVI Bienal de Paiz and Centro de Formación de la Cooperación Española. These experiences and connections became a strong platform for maturing as an artist.

In 2008, I became a US resident and relocated to Brooklyn. I chose New York because of its urban infrastructure and high rate of artistic activity. Having been raised in an environment with strong influences from the US, the cultural shock was somewhat less intense. My struggle has been most related to maintaining the strong bond that I have with the Guatemalan community through live chats on skype and facebook while building new relationships here.

Visit Jessica's website: www.jessicakaire.com

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1/8/2010

Signe Baumane

Signe Baumane (2007 Mentor), still from Birth, animation 12 min, 2009

12/11/2009

Scherezade Garcia

Scherezade Garcia. Cathedral/Catedral. Inflated inner tubes, gold paint, milagros and safety ties

Dominican-born, New York City-based artist Scherezade Garcia describes her installation Cathedral/Catedral (pictured above):

"The piece" Cathedral/Catedral" is part of my new body of work. I created a soft large-scale sculpture by stacking together inner tubes dipped in gold paint, resembling a floating altar and evoking universal migration stories. The inner tubes are attached together by electrical ties, sometimes in distress allusion to pain and suffering. This piece is pregnant with 'milagros' or prayers in different languages, referencing the diversity of origins on the journey in search of paradise."

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11/27/2009

Rune Olsen

Rune Olsen. Priceless (2009). Graphite, Archival Masking Tape, Blue Mannequin Eyes, Aluminum Foil, Wire,Steel, UV-Resistant Acrylic Medium + Homemade Tattoo and Black Polyester Rope. Courtesy of the Artist and Samson Projects

Rune is a 2009 fellow in Sculpture from the New York Foundation for the Arts. In 2010 he will serve as a mentor to an emerging immigrant artists as part of the NYFA Mentoring Program. Based on real and recorded images, his life-size sculptures of people and animals examine the interplay among desire, power and society. Rune Olsen's work has been exhibited at Exit Art, Smack Mellon, Kunstnernes Hus (Oslo) and in the pioneering exhibit The Sex Lives of Animals at The Museum of Sex in New York.

Born in Norway, with an MFA from Goldsmith College in London, he moved to New York ten years ago without professional connections or a network of friends: "The first five years in New York I was in a complete culture shock. My ambition, economic situation and understanding of the New York art world did not match with reality. Through NYFA's mentoring program I want to share my experiences and give practical advice to other artists."

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11/13/2009

Carmen Lizardo

Carmen Lizardo, Untitled (From the series "El negro detras de la oreja" 2009 ), Plexiglas faced Digital C prints

Carmen was born in La Romana, a small town in the Dominican Republic. She immigrated to the US at the age of nineteen and worked in computer science until an aptitude test at the Brooklyn Library directed her fatefully towards art school. She holds a BFA in Photography and a MFA in Digital Media from Pratt Institute.

Regarding her work, Carmen states: "For me, the parallels that exist between the particular to the universal drive my work into a self-exploratory medium. This subject matter extends from private concerns to widespread social issues, by being an immigrant of color, face-to-face with the troubled history of civil rights in the United States. Reflecting upon my own citizenship in the US has made me question the relationship between citizenship and race, engaging me in the construction of a story[...]"

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10/30/2009

Madeleine Debure and Jeanne Verdoux

Madeleine Debure and Jeanne Verdoux, My tongue nicely packed in food wrap. Ink, pencil and tape on paper, 10x17 in., limited edition of 10, 2009

Madeleine and Jeanne met through the 2009 NYFA Mentoring Program for Immigrant Artists and have since worked on collaborative pieces, including the one featured above. Here is what they have to say about their work together:

"Collaborating with Madeleine Debure, who I met through the Mentoring Program for Immigrant Artists, has allowed me to expand my medium from drawing to typography. When I read Madeleine's poem, strong typographic images came to my mind. We work together to transform them into their final shape. We are planning to work on a series of poems as well as bilingual books."
-Jeanne Verdoux

"Working with Jeanne allowed me to discuss the content of my poem in a new and refreshing way. I loved the way she was able to enrich it with her own imageries. I believe strongly in the gallery space as being a unique and indispensable forum for the written word."
-Madeleine Debure

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10/16/2009

Angie Drakopoulos

Angie Drakopoulos, Negentropy I, 2007, 24x18 inches, Mixed media and acrylic paint layered in resin on Plexiglas

Angie Drakopoulos is an artist living and working in New York City. Her work is inspired by current scientific research that examines the connection between consciousness and the physical universe. The work explores ideas of energy fields and particles that assemble and move away from randomness or disarray into order.

Drakopoulos participated in the 2009 Mentoring Program for Immigrant Artists as a mentor to Miki Katagiri, a Japanese artist living in Brooklyn. About her experience with the program she says: "It's taken me many years of living and working in New York City to figure out how to best present my work and learn about opportunities that are available to visual artists. It was extremely rewarding to pass this knowledge directly to a fellow artist. New York City is a challenging place to be and it's easy to become isolated, especially for immigrants. Working with someone from a different culture, with no formal art education, also gave me a refreshing perspective of the art scene. The Mentoring Program creates a unique nurturing environment for artists to come together, exchange ideas and support each other."

Visit Angie's website

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10/2/2009

Laura Baker

Laura Baker, Playa Cascajo (2009), acrylic on canvas

Laura is a Colombian born painter who participated as a mentee in the 2007 NYFA Mentoring Program for Immigrant Artists. About her mentor Saya Woolfalk, Laura says she was "a mentor who not only helped me become organized with all the business and marketing aspects of making art for a living, but also helped me to think about my work's direction through constructive criticism [...] After I did the mentorship in 2007 I had a show at Allegro Gallery in Ciudad de Panama, Panama and since then I have constructed a great relationship with the gallery. I am now getting ready for my first solo show in 2010 with them." The above image is from her solo show.

www.laurabakerstudio.com

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9/18/2009

2009 Mentoring Program Participants

This month we feature a group of artists - brought together by last year's Mentoring Program - with an upcoming show at the DUMBO Art Under the Bridge Festival, September 25-27.

The Map is not the Territory is a serendipitous meeting of artists whose works span disciplines, form and perspective. The title, taken from the quote by Alfred Korzybski, explores the idea that we are not defined by our geography or our art, but rather are a composite of the conversation it insights. This exhibit features the work of artists (both mentors and mentees) from different countries who participated in the 2009 Immigrant Artist Mentoring Program at the New York Foundation for the Arts (NYFA). This show has been about breaking down boundaries and creating a community of collaborators beyond nationality, perspective, and artistic medium: The Map is Not the Territory is the product of that collaboration.

Opening Reception: Friday, september 25, 6-8 pm, 111 Front St Gallery 220

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