79. Feverishly
How we download. Upcoming shows, storyboarding, an intimate look at sketches. Humanness, and the necessity of inefficiency.
…at a performance of Dr. Caligari the other day, a shadow shaped like a tadpole suddenly appeared at one corner of the screen. It swelled to an immense size, quivered, bulged, and sank back again into nonentity. / For a moment it seemed to embody some monstrous, diseased imagination of the lunatic's brain. For a moment it seemed as if thought could be conveyed by shape more effectively than by words. The monstrous, quivering tadpole seemed to be fear itself, and not the statement, "I am afraid." In fact, the shadow was accidental, and the effect unintentional. But if a shadow at a certain moment can suggest so much more than the actual gestures and words of men and women in a state of fear, it seems plain that the cinema has within its grasp innumerable symbols for emotions that have so far failed to find expression.
—Virginia Woolf, “The Cinema”
The weather turned sharply here in NYC after Labor Day. As temperatures drop, I hope to slow down a little under the protection of darker, shorter days in which my work seems to thrive. Seasonal depressiveness is a tax that I’ll eventually assuage in front of a fire somewhere with a mug of rooibos; or at a favourite corner table, radiator-side, where I can steep in a murmuring of adjacent voices.
After a brief lull, my schedule has been straining again. I want to taste, be with, write, do everything, while still cooking meals for myself and maintaining muscle, a clean house. It’s been a challenging negotiation.
Despite constantly feeling a lack for time and continuity, I’ve been producing. Things have been fruiting the past few weeks, and I’m taking things down as fast as I can.
Before we get to what that looks like, a few announcements.
Savored Connections · Exhibition
I’m proud to be a part of a new group exhibition by the Korean American Artist Collective. Repetitions, a triptych of mounted watercolors, will be on display in Savored Connections until October 11th. The paintings will show alongside other works reflecting on Chuseok, a Korean holiday celebrating the mid-autumn harvest.
Please join us at Hana Makgeolli, an artisanal Korean rice wine brewery based in Brooklyn, NYC. Opening reception will be this Saturday, September 14th, 4 to 6pm.
Artist statement:
Our lives are filled with repetitions. Celebrations like Chuseok, as well as smaller ceremonies like the daily meal, become rituals through repeating. We repeatedly come together to form bonds; storytelling is a kind of repeating; connections are borne of repetitions, as is resilience. Repeating leads to movement over space and time, or could be stuck in place. What and how we repeat says much about volition, agency, and choice. This triptych of watercolors on wood panels is inspired by my mother’s hands when she was falling ill from a life of repetitions. Unable to stay still, hands in a sort of supplicatory attitude both prayer and desperation, she continued. The paintings are production artifacts from an animated vignette (time-lapse process video on Instagram), each pose representing a single frame; twenty-four composing one second. Slight imperfections in the exhibit items—in the form of offsets, palimpsest, and torn paper—are evidence themselves of repetitions, marking their place in a larger iterative process.
See you Saturday.
Animation Speakeasy · Screening & discussion
I’m thrilled to share that I’m going to be a guest at Animation Speak/Easy, Vol. 11. Previous guests have included Oscar nominees like Amanda Bonaiuto, American animation icons like Emily Hubley, and the hosts themselves are acclaimed artists in their own right. It’s an incredible honor and privilege to be invited.
Join us Wednesday, September 18th, 7pm, at Rullo’s Bar in Brooklyn, NYC. Drinks, films, and conversations will be had. RSVP to attend (scroll down).
See you next Wednesday.
The Resilience Issue · Magazine launch
Artist and photographer Julia Parris is celebrating five luminous years of Analog is Heavy as well as her latest magazine launch, The Resilience Issue. I’m humbled to be featured in the show and publication—a long labor of love by the artist. Join us for opening reception at Temple Gallery next Sunday, September 22nd, 1 to 5pm.
See you two Sundays from now.
In the studio
As for what’s been going on the past few weeks within these four walls…
I spent not an insignificant amount of time preparing work for the upcoming Savored Connections exhibit. The process of priming the wood; fixing and adhering the paintings; pressing, buffing, and mounting the panels; waiting for things to cure between each step; exacted mistakes and required patience. The experience was educational and I learned a lot.
I’ve also been neck-deep in ink and paper for animation sequences: transcribing ideas, sketching, framing, arranging.
I hope reviewing the following fever shots feels as though you were hanging out with me wordlessly while I work, looking over my shoulder. Because things are at a delicate stage, and I’m sharing more intimately than usual, I’ll be doing so just with Members for now.
Members, please read on. For you, I also close with Provisions, or what I’ve been taking in for inspiration and energy. Plus, thoughts on Ted Chiang’s recent contribution to The New Yorker about A.I. and art, and why I feel that my largely logicless process reinforces my humanness.
For long periods nothing, a struggle to keep the muscles warm; pale pictures coming in dribs and drabs. Abruptly and overwhelmingly: a deluge of images for days on end, at all hours. Half of these glimmers I lose—heartbreakingly—because they continue to arrive at night.