Poster's made for the Emerald of Siam, 2013, shows still pending!!
Monday, April 15, 2013
Protest Event at WSUTC
These are images of a protest event held at Washington State University Tri-Cities, hosted and organized by myself, and the Humanities Club @ WSUTC
Whimsical, riveting, humorous, logical, and otherwise..all inputs were welcome.
Whimsical, riveting, humorous, logical, and otherwise..all inputs were welcome.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
A Very Cool Art Project
Fifty-Five Honey Locust Trees,
There are a group of Chinese Elms in eastern Colorado that I think frequently of. They grow at the former site of the Amache Internment Camp. My grandmother told me that when they arrived at Amache, the land was barren and empty, and that those interned in the camp had planted the trees that now stood. Knowing this, when you look at the trees you see the history of the place and the people who were once there. But the trees have no plaques. And if you don't know this, they are just trees in a landscape.
The day after Sandy hit New York City I rode my bike with some friends through downtown Manhattan to look at the aftermath of the storm. After biking over the Brooklyn Bridge we made a brief stop at Zuccotti Park. During the previous months I had been collecting the fallen seed pods from the fifty-five Honey Locust Trees that decorate the park. The storm had brought down most of the pods that were still hanging on the trees.
To germinate a Honey Locust seed you have to mimic the digestive process of an animal. This can be done using hot water or sandpaper. The tree has co-evolved with animals for the dispersal of its seeds. An animal eats the pod (which is also edible to humans). The outer layer of the seed is broken down in the animal's stomach and intestines. The seed is defecated on the ground. A tree grows.
I am thinking about the temporality of a tree. And the tree as something present, as able to bear witness (fifty-five Honey Locusts bearing witness). The slowness of their pace is not subject to the world of the instantaneous and the immediate that we live in. Their rhythms are seasonal, following the sun. These trees can live up to 150 years, longer than any of our lives, but relatively short compared to other trees. When an #OWS hashtag is no longer trending, they will continue to grow slowly in time.
At the Clocktower Gallery I have begun to germinate the seeds, and to take care of the little trees. At the end of the residency the trees will be taken to Franklin Street Works in Stamford, Connecticut, by a Metro North train from Grand Central. Each tree will be carried by one person. They will first be carried to Zuccotti Park to see their parents, and then to Grand Central (contact the Clocktower Gallery if you would like to carry a tree). In Connecticut they will continue to grow during Franklin Street Works' summer exhibition. In the future, when they are ready to be put into the ground, they will be donated to various organizations and individuals.
I imagine 150 seasons for these trees. 150 times their leaves turning a golden hue. And those who will witness this.
Fifty-five Honey Locusts bearing witness. And their seeds. The trees will be planted without plaques.
http://artonair.org/residency/david-horvitz-fifty-five-honey-locust-trees
There are a group of Chinese Elms in eastern Colorado that I think frequently of. They grow at the former site of the Amache Internment Camp. My grandmother told me that when they arrived at Amache, the land was barren and empty, and that those interned in the camp had planted the trees that now stood. Knowing this, when you look at the trees you see the history of the place and the people who were once there. But the trees have no plaques. And if you don't know this, they are just trees in a landscape.
The day after Sandy hit New York City I rode my bike with some friends through downtown Manhattan to look at the aftermath of the storm. After biking over the Brooklyn Bridge we made a brief stop at Zuccotti Park. During the previous months I had been collecting the fallen seed pods from the fifty-five Honey Locust Trees that decorate the park. The storm had brought down most of the pods that were still hanging on the trees.
To germinate a Honey Locust seed you have to mimic the digestive process of an animal. This can be done using hot water or sandpaper. The tree has co-evolved with animals for the dispersal of its seeds. An animal eats the pod (which is also edible to humans). The outer layer of the seed is broken down in the animal's stomach and intestines. The seed is defecated on the ground. A tree grows.
I am thinking about the temporality of a tree. And the tree as something present, as able to bear witness (fifty-five Honey Locusts bearing witness). The slowness of their pace is not subject to the world of the instantaneous and the immediate that we live in. Their rhythms are seasonal, following the sun. These trees can live up to 150 years, longer than any of our lives, but relatively short compared to other trees. When an #OWS hashtag is no longer trending, they will continue to grow slowly in time.
At the Clocktower Gallery I have begun to germinate the seeds, and to take care of the little trees. At the end of the residency the trees will be taken to Franklin Street Works in Stamford, Connecticut, by a Metro North train from Grand Central. Each tree will be carried by one person. They will first be carried to Zuccotti Park to see their parents, and then to Grand Central (contact the Clocktower Gallery if you would like to carry a tree). In Connecticut they will continue to grow during Franklin Street Works' summer exhibition. In the future, when they are ready to be put into the ground, they will be donated to various organizations and individuals.
I imagine 150 seasons for these trees. 150 times their leaves turning a golden hue. And those who will witness this.
Fifty-five Honey Locusts bearing witness. And their seeds. The trees will be planted without plaques.
http://artonair.org/residency/david-horvitz-fifty-five-honey-locust-trees
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
No Code, Part 7
The technology I am
most recently excited about is an illustrator tablet. While I do fine
art using traditional techniques of drawing and paint, the immediate
results of digital drawing accommodates the immediacy that surrounds
me.
While I tend to have projects strewn about me at all times, it is
a relief to use creative technology within limited space and time
constraints. However, I do not see digital art completely peeling the
paint off of a gallery wall any time soon. Nor projecting a 3D image
in place of a sculpture. There are still so many institutes of
emotive thought that cannot be recreated by some technologies.
Although, the use of digital technologies in conceptual art,
community art, performance art, and interactive art, is something
that is truly unique and fantastic. Art as always cannot be tamed.
There is no code.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)