015. Patchwork Reliquary
Hello friends,
Over the past couple of weeks, I've begun to collect scraps of color--a pair of green sunglasses here, a pair of yellow pants there. Perhaps in anticipation of returning to the bleak cold of New York winter, I felt as though the only way I could combat the subsequent sadness that comes with softened monochromatic skies and sharp air was to dress like a dollar store kaleidoscope.
For this week's letter, I thought I would consider patchwork not just assembled materials, fabrics sewn together as though to hide a wound, but patchwork circuits of different media, and textures, synesthetic saturations of color of the tangible and that which reaches your eyeballs mediated through the blue glow of your screens. Enjoy.
TOUCH
Just a half hour from where I live in Florida is a giant megamall. The kind you see in 80's teen movies, the kind that contain just about every kind of store imaginable, its sheer grandeur both its greatest feature and its greatest flaw (I'm thinking of the abandoned mall videos of Retail Archaeology here). The kind of mall where walking around aimlessly with plastic bags knocking against the sides of your knees feels like your exercise for the day. While I was there, I ended up in Zara (highly questionable business practices) with my family in the middle of their post-New Years sale and found this amazing multi-colored scarf. Arguably more blanket than scarf, so far its kept me nice and toasty in the frigid winter winds, and the beautiful pattern is definitely a plus.
A couple of days ago, I finally got the chance to make it to the Met and catch their retrospective on David Hockney. Like most, I was really familiar with his architectural landscapes and his series of pool imagery, so it was really great to see some of his earlier works, as well as his later brightly abstract paintings and photo collages. He's one of those artists whose work I've seen everywhere but didn't really know too much about his personal life and his development as an artist. Along with learning more about Hockney as a person, it was fascinating to learn more about his artistic practice, the process and inspiration that drive his work from posing figures in portraits or searching for patterns in the California landscape. In the bitter cold of winter, it was exactly what I needed.
Recently, through some digital labyrinth-navigating, I got my hands on Anne Carson's "Art of Poetry" for The Paris Review. At 30 pages long, this interview winds its way through Carson's various collections from her relationship to religion to the way she's engaged with the Greek language and translation since she was a child. Carson's views on poetic practice serve as valuable supplement whether you're a writer or work in other mediums (her own writing works within a hybridity of subject matter and genre). Since this interview is from 2004—I wonder what an updated version of this interview would look like and how her views might differ years later—it is currently behind a paywall on The Paris Review's website but feel free to respond to this email and I can pass along my PDF for you. When asked about her fascination with old scrolls and materials she says, "In surfaces, perfection is less interesting…All those layers add up to more and more life. You can approximate that in your own life. Stains on clothing."
While I was in Florida, I was able to go and visit the Perez Museum. This particular museum specializes in contemporary art, showcasing a diverse body of artists many of which have resided in the Miami area. I always enjoy visiting and that day was no exception. They had an exhibit on contemporary Cuban art, one on typewriter art, and a larger show titled Within Genres which showcases work that challenges and examines historical genres within Western painting such as the still life, landscape, and portraiture. I got to see works by Ana Mendieta, Henry Taylor, Tomas Esson and many more fascinating artists. One of my favorites was their exhibit on video artist Dara Friedman. Friedman's work focuses on bodily experience, from violent actions such as door slams left on loop, and secretly capturing couples in passionate embraces, to dances both within private and public space. There's an undeniable vibrant energy to her work, but more on her in a future letter. The PAMM is very near and dear to me, not to mention that beautiful brutalist style concrete architecture. If you're in the area, you must go.
LOOK
I cannot think about patchwork, without thinking of folk artist Harriet Powers. Powers was born into slavery in Georgia but freed after the civil war. In the late 1880s, she began to publicly exhibit her quilt work although, as a freedwoman, she and her family would struggle with poverty throughout her life. Both hand and machine stitched, each of her applique quilts tell a story with scenes pulled from the Bible, West African symbols and motifs, and celestial imagery. One of my favorite pieces is the one above, Pictorial quilt made in 1895-98. This work is in the collection of Boston's Museum of Fine Arts and the work's description in their online catalog includes Powers' description of each panel as she dictated to the quilt's purchaser, Jennie Smith. Third Row, 12: "The red light night of 1846. A man tolling the bell to notify the people of the wonder. Women, children and fowls frightened by God's merciful hand caused no harm to them".
A particular artist whose work I've been following for some time is British painter Cecily Brown. I love the way her pieces move between figuration and abstraction with highly kinetic, expressive bursts of color. Each brushwork is rich with influences throughout art history (Francis Bacon, the traditions of Classicism and Abstract Expressionism including artists like Rubens and de Kooning). Her paintings have a kind of controlled chaotic quality to them, intricately constructed through her gestures, and her work creates an exciting interplay between the representation of eroticism and the emotionality of color. The painting above is called Untitled from 2012. You can check out more of her work here.
I'm not an online dating kind of gal but I couldn't help but mention these delightfully wild ads from OkCupid. Part of their "Dating deserves better" campaign, the company wants to move past the expectation that the website (and online dating culture in general) is only for casual hookups by poking fun at the idea of DTF. The creators of TOILETPAPER magazine are behind these zany visuals. Upon seeing them, I was immediately reminded of the glossy, vibrant print ads you'd find in fashion magazines from the 60's and 70's. Click here to see more images from this campaign.
LISTEN
Podcast-wise, I finally gave My Favorite Murder a second try over break and I've been keeping up with it ever since. The first time I listened to it, I realize now, I didn't really have the attention span for a conversational style of podcast (I usually prefer more narrative storytelling ones). If you're not familiar with My Favorite Murder, each week the hosts get together to share crimes that have caught their attention. Some are gruesome, some are downright strange, but Karen and Georgia do a great job of balancing humor with history. If you're just starting to dip your toes into the world of true crime or looking for something outside of what you usually listen to, this is a great place to start.
In the winter, I tend to always find myself in a kind of musical slump. Unless I'm sent things, I don't actively seek out new music. Yet every once and a while, I find something that snaps me out of my winter blues. LSDXOXO recently released a compilation mixtape titled Body Mods, pulling sounds from Kill Bill to Depeche Mode. They've described the album as a "moodscape for those listening, involving some of the influences I've used for my debut effort" and as a "mixtape between me and my demons", soon to be followed by a full-length album. LSDXOXO is an amazing producer, experimenting within the techno and bringing to new life to a genre that sometimes falls into the trap of homogenous sounds. I can't wait for the release of their new album but until then, I've got this mixtape to keep me energized whether I'm walking to the grocery store or killing time waiting for the train.
And I can't close out this section without mentioning Crawl Space by Tei Shi. While I'm familiar with her older work, I finally gave her debut album a listen until over winter vacation after its been sitting in my to-listen list since the summer. Tei Shi dances between genres, from tender-hearted R&B to bouncier pop, and her delicately composed, sultrier beats are infected by surprising samples of childhood recordings and off-pop additions such as horns and guitars in certain tunes, producing an emotionally and musically rich body of sound. So much of this album deals with conquering fears and overcoming tribulations, a kind of confidence-heavy piece that came to me at a time when I needed it most. Definitely give this soothing album a listen. To start, I'd recommend "Creep" and "How Far". You can check out the album here.
LICK
I have a soft spot for tattoos. Tattooing is an art form that has always fascinated me, the ways in which designs can come alive across ink and skin. The Instagram account that has been feeding this guilty pleasure is si_si_oui_oui. This account reposts unique designs by tattoo artists from around the world (and properly credits them, I might add). I've been introduced to new artists to follow and exposed to all kinds of stylistic designs from minimal line work to experiments in bright colors to large scenes intricately detailed across the landscape of the body. A great source of inspiration whether you're scared of needles or not.
Something that has been both visually and auditorily pleasing to watch is COLORS. Each week, the studio uploads live performances by emerging musicians with their own colored backdrop. Depending on the artist and the emotional weight or genre of their music, the chosen color (whether that's your rich burgundy or banana yellow) act as a kind of framing space both reflecting and enhancing the sensory experience of music consumption. COLORS showcases artists across genres (and chromatic spectrums) There's a raw intimacy to these stripped-down, no-frills performances. I'm not usually a fan of watching recorded live performances, whether that be shaky concert footage or content uploaded by a specific venue or organization, but they've got both a great ear and eye for music. You can check out all of their videos (and find some new music) here.
If I'm going to talk about patchwork, I can't go without mentioning Camille Henrot's Gross Fatigue. Her work is a kind of practice in digital stitching, overlapping videos and images across different layers of screens. In this piece, she attempts to tell the story of the universe's creation, carrying a kind of historical burden herself, through a spoken word poem that winds its way throughout the 13-minute video. Photographs from museum collections are interspersed with clips from the Internet to scenes filmed in mundane locations such as pet stores. As though she's attempting to digest the sheer excessive quantity of this information, the video teeters on overwhelming, images and videos crashing into each other across the digital landscape with brightly colored euphoric overload. You can watch clips of the video, cut with clips of Henrot being interviewed, here.
My latest source of makeup inspiration has been Juliana Horner (aka claropsyche on Instagram). They are a visual artist who frequently uses makeup as their medium. Their work is delightfully ethereal, always playing with color and optical illusions. Like a brush-wielding space fairy, I always love to see what they come up with next. Go check out their work—like this optical illusion piece done in collaboration with the Peabody Essex Museum or this crazy rainbow mouth—you won't regret it.
I'm not usually a big phone games person. I tend to lose interest after a while or I simply forget that the game is even there. But recently, I've been enjoying Blendoku (I'm always a sucker for a good puzzle game). In order to beat each level, you have to arrange the colored tiles into a gradient pattern of correct color order, with each level getting progressively more elaborate with each color range. It feels very short and sweet, not the kind of game where I get bored of it after a while. Seriously, a great distraction if you're looking to procrastinate or kill some time while you're stuck waiting. You can download the original game here or its sequel here.
CLICK
Nuar Alsadir's essay, "At the Peephole", managed to unsettle me the first time I read it. Alsadir concerns herself with art, spam emails, and a kind of Internet voyeurism found in fetishistic porn and violent images. Alsadir focuses on race, the way in which one becomes Othered through a digital gaze, especially the alienation she feels living in America yet her Iraqi heritage remains ever present in personal and cultural observation. She concerns herself both with active and passive surveillance, the way in which our data becomes an automated reflection, and the way we unconsciously view, even curated, ideas of ourselves and other people. "Bookmarked tabs are the most personal myth we prepare for an imagined Other," she writes, "not necessarily the sites most visited, but the ones we identify most with ourselves, the outwardly directed persona we'd tolerate another person apprehending if they were to catch a glimpse at our screen". There are descriptions of sexual violence, just so you're aware.
Now for 3 patch-like poems (sort of), if you don't mind.
The first is "Woo Woo Roll Deep" by Angel Nafis. For a poem that's literally just about friends getting together and hanging out, this poem bites with a kind of tender wit. Nafis brings each person to life, the dynamics of friendship, each person bringing their own strengths and vulnerabilities as they come together. There's something so beautiful about picturing all of these characters together in the same space, laughing and joking, taking care of one another, and burning sage or sharing dreams. "shit. We always down for the miracle / The regular-as-fuck dawn making brand new / the farm of our hearts". Check out the work here.
Then there's
"Entry 038::After Ash Wednesday>>Moon Quincunx Pluto" and "Entry 045::Reemerging///Full Moon in Virgo" by Sade LaNay in the newest issue of AADOREE. I'll be honest, I wasn't very familiar with their work going into these poems but I couldn't help but get sucked into their winding poetic prose narratives and erasure forms. They jam images and emotions together, a kind of violence swells across their language from a jaw aching from a tooth extraction, accidentally hurting their brother, and what it means to confront trauma. Just a heads up, there are descriptions of abuse so keep that in mind.
Lastly, I'd like to include "Mad" by Jane Wong. Like a kind of linguistic patchwork, Wong punctuates her poetic form with voids: "Their soft speckled bodies, a minutia of buzzing dandelion seeds, have already ___ you in the neck." She leaves in an element of the unspoken, just enough to alienate you within her poetic landscape. She moves between the personal and the distant, implicating the reader with these blanks to fill as the narrative unfurls. This is a poem best read, not described, and I urge you to take a look.
To conclude, let me insert in this essay on the artist, Amy Sillman titled "The Labour of Painting" by Paige K. Bradley. Bradley does such a lovely job of negotiating the various moving parts at play in Sillman's mixed media work. A purely materialized painter, Sillman moves away from the conventions of conceptual and minimalistic work, fixated instead on the manipulation and smeared corruption of painted abstraction. "The proof is in the paint", Bradley describes it best. There is a kind of scribe-like quality to her work (Sillman herself describes her work artistic practice as closer to writing), as though in a moment of motion or comic amusement. Using rich arrangements of color, Sillman brings her experimentation on the canvas onto screens, creating digital animations with voiceover courtesy of poet-collaborators. Her brightly colored pieces have a kind of vibrant plasticity, animated even when dried into static forms. // When I think "patchwork", I think of two things. The first is my grandmother's ability to always fix every tear where they appear on my clothes, and sew every patch I collect onto my collaged denim jacket with such precision that you cant even see the stitch marks. That skill of always knowing how to mend or hem or attach, like a softened appendage, the materiality of fabric back onto the body is something I'm trying to learn from her, trying to put that knowledge of repair into practice beyond whatever cloth I hold in my hand. To embrace both the chaos and the cleanup, and to be more comfortable with wearing these exposed stitches as a part of material living, exposed vulnerabilities, the chaotic mishmash of interests intersecting within my brain, and all.
Secondly, I think of the origins of the phrase, "It costs an arm and a leg". Out of all of the sources this saying could possibly come from, you can trace its origins back to an American magazine around World War II, first used to describe soldiers with amputations before it took on lighter, colloquial significance. That being said, I prefer the folktale origin. It was believed that in the tradition of court painting (from the Renaissance onwards), if you wanted to include your limbs in the piece, the price was raised depending many limbs you wanted in the frame. While the latter story has been repeatedly debunked, there's something about that idea of charging by the limb that made we wish that system was true.
And, on that note, as I'm beginning to fall asleep at my laptop, I'd like to close out this letter before it begins a keyboard smash from where my droops. Until next time.
Love,
Ellie
P.S. I know I've been gone for the past couple of weeks. This semester has brought significantly more work to juggle than I anticipated and that ended up overwhelming my other priorities. My absence was rather abrupt and I do apologize I had not made any kind of announcement. I hadn't forgotten about this baby, just that it became harder and harder to find time to finish it. Going forward, for the next couple of months at least, you won't hear from me as often as I (and probably you) would like but I'll try to post as frequently as I can. I'm a big believer in quality over quantity, and I'd rather wait to share my longer, more coherently themed letters than frantically try to finish something at the last minute. I thank you for your understanding.
P.P.S Tomorrow (or I guess it would now technically be today seeing as I'm writing this at nearly 2 in the morning) is my birthday! I'm working on a special letter as a mini-celebration of the occasion (21 things for 21 years) so keep an eye out this week for a little gift in your inbox.