The Academy Blog

Arriving at the Academy

Posted on September 21, 2012

By Madeleine Hines (MFA 2014)


I’m a couple weeks into my first semester at the New York Academy of Art and since I’ve started my excitement for the two years ahead has only grown. Every morning I’m increasingly proud to walk into our building at 111 Franklin Street in Tribeca. Before I even enter the classroom, there is artistic inspiration at every turn – from weekly artist lectures and studio critiques to the students chatting outside the building or gathering to depart for a gallery opening or museum show.

Academy Facade at Night


There is so much that makes this school a truly special, but the student body is what struck me most during my first week. My classmates are brimming with talent, energy and ambition. Last Friday night, the school assembled for a gathering called “My Work and I.” Each student stood up alongside three images of their work and had a minute to discuss their background and art. The superb talent blew me away! I’ve been so impressed to learn about the diverse trajectories that led my classmates to this school. Some of them have already been showing at galleries and establishing themselves as artists in their native cities across the country and world, while others, including myself, are arriving here from drastically different careers outside the art world. While I look forward to the competitive atmosphere that I expect will arise out of such a driven and talented student body, for now I feel nothing but support and open arms. 

Such an accomplished student body would not be the reality without the amazing faculty that attracted us here. My roster of instructors this semester – Steven Assael, John Jacobsmeyer, Randy McIver, J.P. Roy, and John Zinsser – span a wide range of artistic types. I’ll describe each of them more at length in my posts to follow, but for now, just know that each of them has their own unique perspective and expertise and I’m thrilled to be learning from each them.


Here’s a glimpse at what I’m most looking forward to in the week ahead: 

1) Alex Kanevsky is visiting this Wednesday! There’s so much I love about is painting style – his loose brushwork rich color, light, and texture. Not only do I get to listen to him give a lecture, but I was also lucky enough to sign up for a 20 minute critique with him! 

2) Next Friday, our painting instructor J.P. Roy is bringing our class to his studio in Williamsburg. His work is incredible and I learned in class today that it’s all from his imagination. Crazy! Can’t wait to see it in person.

To conclude this first post, I’d like to bring up an exhibition I viewed this week at The Met, Regarding Warhol: Fifty Artists, Sixty Years.  I greatly enjoyed the show and found it very fitting to have seen a Warhol show during my first weeks here, since Andy Warhol founded the New York Academy of Art in 1982. Thanks Andy!!


Madeleine

Madeleine Hines (MFA 2014) will be blogging here throughout the year about her first year at the Academy and moving to New York City.  Check the label “First Year Experience” or “Madeleine Hines” for more posts about her first year at the Academy.

Carrara Part II: Initiation into an Ancient Tradition

Posted on September 18, 2012


June 18 – July 3, 2012, recent Academy graduate Joseph Brickey (MFA 2012) lived and worked in Carrara, Italy as part of a two-week Artist in Residence Program sponsored by ABC Stone and The Oriano Galloni Foundation, and coordinated by artist Stephen Shaheen (MFA 2005).


The Apuan Alps, where white marble has been quarried for thousands of years

By Joseph Brickey (MFA 2012)
 
Upon arriving in Pisa, Steve Shaheen was there to greet me and drive me to Carrara. From the highway I could see the Apuan Alps, with large passages of white where the mountains had been stripped bare from thousands of years of marble quarrying. 


Looming above the Italian landscape with a kind of scarred majesty, the sight seemed to strike a chord deep within me.  The swathes of white marble appeared in the distance as patches of snow, reminding me of the mountains in my home state of Utah.  But there was something further, faint yet familiar, that I felt tugging at my roots.  These white scars on the mountain face seemed to whisper me a welcome, the ageless echo of a common cause, an ancient vestige of a shared passion.  I’d come to the heartland of a people who for countless generations had shared my deep and unique love for this material called white marble.  In a peculiar way, I felt I’d come home.


After ditching my luggage at Villa Acero, we went straight to Studio Corsanini, where I’d spend the next two weeks carving my piece in marble. The workshop owned by Luigi Corsanini is well known in the marble carving world of Tuscany, Luigi himself being recognized for his knowledge of the classical tradition, as well as the quality of his workmanship.

Three generations of Corsanini stone carvers

In this modern age of power tools and technology, very few learn the old ways of working with marble. But the craft lives on in the Corsanini family, a way of life and a family tradition.  It’s a beautiful thing to see: a rare and difficult skill that just seems to be in the blood, unifying generations and preserving the mastery of an ancient method. Such a flame is easily quenched, and in the world at large it nearly has been, but it yet burns brightly in this little pocket of Tuscany, undisturbed by the changes all about.

Young Niccolo Corsanini at work

Among the dozens of marble workshops in the area, Studio Corsanini is unique in many ways, one being the way international artists work together with homegrown artisans.  Blood, sweat, and tears are not just metaphorical terms here, but the real ingredients of comradery.  Add marble dust to the mix, and you have a motley group of rare individuals becoming tangibly bound together, from being one percenters in the world to being 100 percenters in the workshop.  How fortunate that I’d landed here of all places!

Kuetani and Steve working at Studio Corsanini
Sculptor Itto Kuetani finishing his latest marble
Master craftsman Massimo at work

After selecting the stone of my choice, it was cut down to size.  This block of marble would become the island of my new adventure, the prison of my new labor, the field of my new battle.  Everything outside of it only existed to serve my life within it.  On it I would stake my claim in a tradition that makes the laborer noble, dirty work honorable, every move immortal, and—come to think of it—every failure famous!  I felt I had entered a marathon on a tightrope.

measuring the model
establishing cardinal points
Massimo blurring the divide between speed & precision
marking the marble block
marking the mastic on the model
finding point on the marble
Massimo measuring depth
the first cuts into the block
The marble block after the first stages
Check back here for more of Joseph’s reflections on his residency and first experience working with stone.

Did you miss Joseph’s other posts on his experience in Carrara? Read Carrara: The Impossible Dream and Carrara Part III: Reduced to the Dust by Marble.

Tomorrow: Academy Orientation and First Day of Class

Posted on September 14, 2012

By Ian Factor (MFA 2014)

My arrival in NYC about a week ago was interesting to say the least…when I finally found the apartment I had rented and went to open the door with the keys I had been given, none of them worked…locked out with a full bladder, double parked with a full truck. Good start, but the positive news was that my truck made it in one piece.

About 2 hours later and 3 generations of family members coming to let the “new tenant” in, they finally got the key thing straightened out, and I entered. I unloaded (the truck and my bladder) and at 10pm got in the Q-train and headed for Manhattan.

I stayed with a good friend who has a gorgeous apartment just behind the World Trade Center with great private rooftop terrace overlooking the Hudson River and NJ. 

Sunset Sails over the Hudson River from Battery Park Terrace


Sunset view over the Hudson River from Battery Park Terrace

For a few days while I searched for a bed and some basic furnishings my host of hosts allowed me to stay in his extra bedroom overlooking Battery Park City and the Promenade there. 

Here’s a quick sketch from day one:

Quick sketch from Battery Park Promenade. Statue Of Liberty in Background

Here’s a good, and disturbing story; On my LAST visit to the Sleazy’s (I mean. Sleepy’s) while I was getting the heavy handed bait-and-switch, I literally saw a bedbug crawling over the top of one of the “New” mattresses! (FYI, this was at the Sleepy’s in Sheapshead Brooklyn). I naturally and immediately pointed it out to the salesman and he quickly slapped the mattress next to the bug as it went flying into the air to land most likely on another unsuspecting sample bed. His slick and frighteningly nonchalant comment was, “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve seen that…”The difficulty in finding a bed in the city, without getting ripped off or having to drive out to some suburb of New Jersey, was profound. I was still exhausted from packing up everything in Boston and moving here, and the fatigue continued while I drove around from one end of Brooklyn to the other and took the train in and out of Manhattan, dealing with the sleaziest of sleazy bed salesmen at more than one “Sleepy’s” (Dont EVER shop there!!)

I left without saying a word. True story.

Onto IKEA, the weekend of Labor Day, probably the busiest bed and furniture shopping day of the year for students and proud (and exhausted) parents of new students heading off to school.

Chaos doesn’t describe the scene at the Brooklyn Store, the lines at checkout reminding me of my first visit to Disney World as an 8 year old…minus the rides and Mickey Mouse. IKEA Brooklyn, which is the main warehouse, the size of most large city’s airports, is daunting and overwhelming, regardless of the packs of frantic shoppers. 

Needless to say, I could write a novel about the few days spent there. 

Instead, here’s a sketch of a sleeping man on the Q-Train that sums up how the shopping left me feeling:

Man Sleeping on Q-Train – Brooklyn


Finally, as of two days ago I have a new bed. 

So today, Sunday I woke early, rode my bike down to Manhattan Beach, about a 7 minute ride from my apartment, just on the other side of Sheapshead Bay, and then rode over to Brighton Beach and down the length of the Coney Island Boardwalk, along the beach to the far end, actually the end closer to NYC. It was my first time there, Coney Island…
like another country. It was a beautiful, perfect sunny day with large gorgeous cumulus   and cumulonimbus clouds after yesterday’s double tornado touching down in Brooklyn and Queens. The language I most commonly heard was Russian, with a smattering of Spanish and a few random English words thrown in. There’s a huge Russian population here in this part of Brooklyn, a language I love to hear and not understand. Just the sound and intonation is intriguing. 

Here are a couple shots of the first riders of the day at Coney Island:

Coney Island – First Ride Of The Day


Coney Island – Wonder Wheel and The Strange Evil Cat Ride


And then on my way home I stopped here at Brighton Beach to take this one more shot:

Brighton Beach – Under The ‘Stares’


Now sitting in Starbucks, for the free internet and not-so-free cup of tea, I enter this Blog…and watch the middle school kids violently threaten the other middle school kids. Maybe we should be giving them Vodka to drink at that age instead of Coffee drinks.

Orientation at the Academy is tomorrow, studio move in is 8:30am. 
Time for a good meal and a good night sleep. 

Much more soon…

Ian
 

Ian Factor (MFA 2014) will be blogging here throughout the year about his first year at the Academy and moving to New York City.  You can also follow more of Ian’s experiences on his blog: Ian Factor’s New York Academy of Art Experience.

POST NATURAL: 2012 FELLOWS EXHIBITION

Posted on September 13, 2012

An exhibition of the 2012 Fellows of the New York Academy of Art: Emily Davis Adams (MFA 2011, Fellow 2012) , Ian Healy (MFA 2011, Fellow 2012) and Aliene De Souza Howell (MFA 2011, Fellow 2012).

 

Carrara: The Impossible Dream

Posted on September 11, 2012

June 18 – July 3, 2012, recent Academy graduate Joseph Brickey (MFA 2012) lived and worked in Carrara, Italy as part of a two-week Artist in Residence Program coordinated by ABC Stone and The Oriano Galloni Foundation.

By way of introduction, I’ve always felt I could do anything an artist aught to be able to do.  Can I draw? Sure. Give me a pencil, and I can move it in any direction. What about paint? Oh, you mean that soft, creamy stuff that comes in nice little tubes? Sure. I even know where to get special brushes so you can rub it around without getting any on your fingers. Can I sculpt? Well, I grew up playing in the mud. That’s a material I understand.
But what about stone carving, you ask? What?? Did you say stone?? You mean that material that shooting stars are made of, that sinks ships, divides the oceans, forms mountains, turns aside rivers, crushes whatever stands between it and the center of the earth?  This is the material upon which all the world stands for support. A wise man might build upon it, but what fool would try to carve it?  Even Mother Nature herself only carves by the minuscule per millennium.
That’s right, I know about stone. I’ve had my own experiences with it. I’ve climbed it, kicked it, smacked it, and stubbed my toes on it. Throughout my entire life, anytime I’ve come up against stone, it always wins. It’s just instinctive now: when we cross paths, stone always has the right of way. It’s simple, really. I’m made from the dust, the stuff smashed between the rocks, the stuff that is washed away by the wind and the rain, while the stone, well, it isn’t. 
So if you ask me about stone carving, I’m thinking you must mean the stone doing the carving on me.  What then? Into a stone box I go, unto the dust I return, six feet under a stone marker that warns the world: “This man thought stone carving was a good idea.”
So that’s where I’m coming from. At least until the opportunity came to go to Carrara.
Hence it shouldn’t seem so strange that stone carving–most certainly humanity’s first dip into the arts–feels to me more like my final frontier as an artist.  But unwittingly my creative impulse had always been carrying me closer. All along it was a natural fit for my artistic identity, the eventuality of all of my efforts and interests. But aspiration cannot live without expectation, and marble carving was on the same list as cloud surfing and comet riding. 
I had thought that turning to sculpture a couple of years ago completed my ambitions. I had used drawing materials, painting materials, and now sculpting materials. But marble was an entirely different thing. In the court of the great masters, I had tried out every seat in the house, but I had never considered actually taking the throne. Not that I don’t think big. I’m a guy who has considered planting a garden on Mount Everest, camping on the dark side of the moon, crab walking to the edge of the earth, and then rappelling down. But carving a marble sculpture?! It seemed so far fetched, so foreign, so unfathomable, that even to man prone to ambition, it remained the impossible dream.
Then came the generosity of Jonathon Tibett of ABC Stone, the groundwork of SteveShaheen (MFA 2005), and the great resource that is the New York Academy of Art. When the news came that I had received the marble carving residency, I was suddenly cloud hugging and comet kissing. Mount Everest could melt, the edge of the earth could go drop off itself—I was going to Carrara!!!
Part of my preparation was to decide on a subject and create a model to work from while there. I felt I should do something that would test me with the technique, something with nuance and detail, subtle shifts in form, demanding precise proportion and surface treatment. In short, something that would be a good test for future carving possibilities, for I felt that if the honeymoon went well, so would the marriage.
Michelangelo’s Maquette
There was no doubt that I wanted to do something figurative, but with forms conceived for the material of stone. This was new for me and my mind immediately sought answers from the great Michelangelo. I looked not only to his final sculptures but also to those sketches and preliminary works that demonstrated earlier conceptual phases.  Among his surviving works that were preparatory for his marble sculptures is a terra cotta maquette of a male torso done for his Awakening Slave.
  
Pen & Ink of Male Torso

Toned Drawing of Male Torso
This point of reference seemed to fit my native impulse, and as I began to work out my own interpretation, I felt a sort of dialogue develop, consulting the great master at every turn (and occasionally bickering with his counsel). It became a process where I either had to justify my own path or come to understand the reason for his. In the end, whether my model was a tribute or an insult to his wisdom, I’d made my case and was ready to stand by it.

 

Model of Male Torso
Now I simply had to go to Italy to make the same argument to some block of marble… and I was unbelievably excited!!!


Check back here for more of Joseph’s reflections on his residency and first experience working with stone.

Our Giverny Hamlet

Posted on September 4, 2012

August 13-26, eight Academy students lived and worked at the Terra Foundation for American Art-Europe in Giverny, France as part of a two-week Artist in Residence Program.  Daniel Bilodeau (MFA 2013), Adam Carnes (MFA 2013), Ivy Hickam (MFA 2013), Jacob Hicks (MFA 2012), Gaetanne Lavoie (MFA 2013), Robert Plater (MFA 2013), Amanda Scuglia (MFA 2013) and Valentina Stanislavskaia (MFA 2013) will continue to share their experiences here.


Tuesday, August 14:
Today I rode up a hill with a borrowed mountain bike to the edge of a farm field.  I could see little houses and valleys below.  On my way I met two horses, one black, one white. Irritated by flies in their eyes they kept nodding their heads at me.  I patted their warm brows.  A young French girl, who must have stepped out of a painting, walked over to me calling out the horses’ names.  She was rosy cheeked and wore a dress the color of the sky.  I spoke to her in my broken French and she patiently waited to understand.  When I said “Je suis Américain,” she smiled.  She lives in a house down the way.  I wished I could paint her.  I said “À tout à l’heure” and hopped back on my bike.
An attempt at a landscape was made farther on up the hill.  A sweaty brow and spilt water decided when it was done. I had fussed with it too much and the lights were muddied.  But with renewed excitement for watercolor and landscape, I decided I would try again the next day for I’m out of practice in plein air and I knew that’s how the day’s painting would go.

 


  


After first week’s crit, leaving Le Hameau

The studio area the Terra Foundation gave us for the two weeks is called “Le Hameau.” The studios are said to have a lot of soul.  They are rich in history; Lilla Cabot Perry, Frederick Carl Frieseke, Mary Wheeler, and Richard Miller all painted here.

“Lady in a garden,” Frederick Carl Frieseke


The interior of my studio is always cool inside because of its thick walls.  It has an old fireplace and touches of paint from previous residents. I’ve contributed gesso marks to the floor and a large branch from a berry bush cut and left by the gardener.  The gardens hiding to the right of the building are a little wild; not too perfectly kept and lovingly overgrown. 





The Wonder of Giverny

Posted on September 1, 2012


by Amanda Scuglia, MFA 2013

Last semester I was selected to participate in an artist residency at the Terra Foundation for American Art Europe in France! The New York Academy nominated eight students and one professor to travel to Giverny for this incredible opportunity. Jean-Pierre Roy, Jacobs Hicks, Ivy Hickam, Robert Plater, Daniel Bilodeau, Valentina Stanislavskaia, Gaetanne Lavoie, Adam Carnes and I arrived in Paris a week early to do some research. We visited the Louvre, the Centre Pompidou, the Musee D’Orsay and a few contemporary art galleries. We also fit in some tourist stuff- like picnics at the Eiffel Tower, shopping at the Sennelier store, waiting in line and eventually getting to see the catacombs, partying at the Sacre Coeur, flea marketing, etc. After all that inspiration, we knew it was time to get to work.


When we all arrived in Giverny, we were greeted by our guide Miranda. She was extremely knowledgable with an absolutely delightful personality. Immediately the group was very taken with the place. We all arrived feeling very, very grateful.

The town, with less than 500 residents, was full of charm and covered in flowers. We had extremely comfortable living situations as well as generously sized studios (equipped with an apple orchard!). A chef prepared our dinner and dessert and delivered it daily. We all met for lunch everyday, which was provided by the Impressionist Museum cafe. When we weren’t in the studio working, we were taking day trips to new landscapes, exploring surrounding towns by bike, or plein-air painting.



One of the coolest experiences from Giverny was Monet’s house and gardens. It was gorgeous, but crowds of tourists filled it everyday. As a courtesy, they closed it to the public one evening, and allowed us entry so that we could paint peacefully.


We formed friendships and bonds that otherwise might not have happened. We learned so much about each other’s work as well as our own. And we got to see how this place had changed our work. It’s a short period of time that none of us will forget. I cannot thank the Academy and the Terra Foundation enough for the opportunity.



Impression, Soleil Levant

Posted on August 30, 2012

August 13-26, eight Academy students lived and worked at the Terra Foundation for American Art-Europe in Giverny, France as part of a two-week Artist in Residence Program.  Daniel Bilodeau (MFA 2013), Adam Carnes (MFA 2013), Ivy Hickam (MFA 2013), Jacob Hicks (MFA 2012), Gaetanne Lavoie (MFA 2013), Robert Plater (MFA 2013), Amanda Scuglia (MFA 2013) and Valentina Stanislavskaia (MFA 2013) will continue to share their experiences here.


Over the course of two weeks I was lucky enough to join a group of gifted artists led by Professor Jean-Pierre Roy, Daniel Bilodeau (MFA 2013), Adam Carnes (MFA 2013), Ivy Hickam (MFA 2013), Jacob Hicks (MFA 2012), Gaetanne Lavoie (MFA 2013), Robert Plater (MFA 2013), Amanda Scuglia (MFA 2013) and Valentina Stanislavskaia (MFA 2013), on a residency in Giverny, France, the residence of revolutionary seer, Claude Monet.  
Monet was wholly indebted to phenomenological truth, more than he was indebted to pre-conceived standards of art affixed to institutionalization.  He was never to give himself over to the ways in which he was taught to see-though he was clearly taught, from an early age, the precedence of French academic art.  History is opened when placed in the hands of someone willing first to learn, and then to seek change.   
Initially to him, I assume, it must have seemed ludicrous to speak the visual language of established artistic tradition and call it mimetic truth– as it seems ludicrous for any member of contemporary life to refer to a Cimabue painting as the realistic mirror of the human eye to the exterior world. 
Traditions are born.  They swell, grow roots, share excitements, age, and then must be upended, just as the dilapidated building, whose structure was once perfect, must be demolished and rebuilt.  To upend institutional thought is to teach us our thoughts want and will always focus on progression.  We are taught ideas as if they are unchangeable, but to triumph is to change.
So Monet goes outside, to a garden, and decides to paint the arc of time by way of color and movement.  He dabs in the changing light against a white linen the optical equivalencies of water, weeping willow, chapel, haystack, human–knowing those containing lines of structure are the lies of his mind wanting to create demarcations and separations.  What he comprehends is the melt of visual unity.
He calls a work Impressionist Sunrise, and his critics poke fun and name his friends and followers “Impressionists.”   The sonorous bell of the word rings, and the way western society sees again moves.  A new cathedral of thought slowly builds awaiting its fall.
It is necessary to love the modes of thought that shape us, that come before, and to thank them.  It is our duty to shape new modes of thought.

A Place of Beauty

Posted on August 27, 2012

On August 13, eight Academy students arrived at the Terra Foundation for American Art-Europe in Giverny, France to begin a two-week Artist in Residence Program.  Daniel Bilodeau (MFA 2013), Adam Carnes (MFA 2013), Ivy Hickam (MFA 2013), Jacob Hicks (MFA 2012), Gaetanne Lavoie (MFA 2013), Robert Plater (MFA 2013), Amanda Scuglia (MFA 2013) and Valentina Stanislavskaia (MFA 2013) will share their experiences here throughout their residency.
Giverny is a place of beauty. Replete with trees and flowers, filled with fresh air, the lifestyle in this small French village is at once both simple and sophisticated.
On the day of our arrival we were met at the train station in the neighboring town of Vernon by Miranda, our hostess and facilitator. Taking us into Giverny, she introduced us to the area and took us on a tour of the grounds. We chose rooms to live in, studios to work in, and bicycles with which to explore. Miranda has been truly kind and helpful to us. As a group we walked, visited Monet’s outdoor grave, and ate our first residency meals.
Monet’s gravesite
When I woke up yesterday I just lay there for a while listening to the birds sing. Eventually, there came the charming and unexpected bbbaaaaaa sound of a sheep bleating. It is kept nearby with emu and ostriches. We began the day with a trip to the Impressionist Museum right here in town. We had a nice guide who had a strong accent and a good command of English, but had probably never addressed a group of people for a long time in the language before. Her voice would begin to shake with nervousness, and we would seek to ease her with approving looks of interest and comprehension. The collection was great and unexpected. Afterwards, we moved our bicycles then went into Vernon by van to satisfy outstanding needs for supplies and personal snacks and wine. We had a lot of fun with french words, the radio, and potato chips in unfamiliar flavors such as roast chicken with thyme, cheeseburger and kebab. 
Today we went to Monet’s house and garden first thing. Monet’s extensive collection of Japanese woodblock prints was superb, and the garden beautiful. Best for sure is the large lily pond surrounded by so many beautiful trees and flowers; featuring two little bridges. I remained in this area for a long time, as it grew more enchanting as I stayed longer. I made two little drawings. As tourists passed me, they commented in a variety of the world’s languages and about fifteen different parties took my picture, which was funny.
We are well taken care of here. The food has been excellent. In the morning there are various breads and cheeses and jams and fruit and of course, Nutella. For lunch we all meet at 12:30 in the museum cafeteria where we have a variety of fresh options including a new plat du jour and desert du jour each day. Chicken, pork, fish,french sauces, big salads. It is delicious fare, and comes with beer or wine or orangina, etc. and a desert from a long list of temptations including chocolate lava cake and numerous flavors of amazing ice cream. Add to it espresso or cafe creme, and it is a satisfying but lengthy operation; taking nearly two hours each day. The dinner is equally good, delivered by a chef to our fridge and only requiring that we set the table and heat it up in the oven. 
Everything in this picturesque village is very attractive, well attended by tourists, and well kept. I’m looking forward to biking around and exploring the natural outskirts some more. My studio space has an old European personality and opens into a beautifully manicured group of apple trees. I share it with Jacob, and we will be spending a lot of time in there. 
There is a great sense of appreciation amongst the group, and we all look forward to the nourishment, creation, and building of fond memories promised by an experience such as this.

Summer of Prisms

Posted on August 23, 2012

June 1 – July 31, 2012, four Academy students lived and worked in Liepzig, Germany as artists on an 8-week Artist in Residence Program.  Brian Dang (MFA 2013), Robert Fundis (MFA 2013), Elizabeth Glaessner (MFA 2013) and Noelle Timmons (MFA 2013) have continued to share their experiences here.




By Noelle Timmons (MFA 2013)

As all humans experience their lives through the bubble of their own environment, we as artists, and especially students, also get to see our artwork through the said bubble. So, luckily for us, and all other thinkers and creatives, we basically get double-bubble-exposure—we create work that exists within our environment and we process it in a way that is conducive and representative of it. Of course this is nothing new. But, when you are so completely cut-off from your bubble, for the first time, in regard to your art-making practice, when you’ve been dropped from outer space and find yourself in the most East-of-East-Germany-Leipzig, with absolutely nothing familiar around, your bubble is understandably popped. And now it’s been replaced with something different: a prism.



The prism is Leipzig, it’s the Spinnerei, and our entire abroad experience. It’s not as constricting and suffocating as the bubble; it’s multifaceted for more variety and interpretation. But, the prism makes everything seem crazy, kind of Twilight Zone. So I began to see the art world differently, to see some of my favorite artists differently, and of course, to see everything I painted, drew, and scribbled differently. It took time to see my work through this prism. It especially took time to figure out which version, which plane of the prism, I wanted my art to sync with, if any. But the most monumentally difficult thing was to become so comfortable with the new-ness and large-ness of the prism, that I saw myself, and my artwork, in spite of it all. To not get overwhelmed, to not loose sight of my core intuition and creative drive (to not runaway with the German circus), that was the real challenge of the brilliant Leipzig prism.


And so we were free to experiment, to make things we never would or “could” make in New York. We received insight from fellow residents and artists, insight so new and fresh, and sometimes severe, that we were again faced with the warped prism. This residency was enchanting, confusing, and at times, downright maddening (communal living was, ahem, new, for all of us). But I feel lighter, more free, inspired, and confident in my art practice than I ever have. I don’t think I shattered the prism; I still imagine it and let myself sit uncomfortably in it for a moment. But there was a moment in late June, and another in late July, when I just seamlessly wandered out, found myself painting, and knew I had gotten what I needed from Leipzig, from the residency, from the prism of our new space and environment.