“…culture and nature are intermeshed and mutually constituting.” – Nicole Boivin
Excited to be taking part in an outdoor art exhibit happening this June 26th, on the site of a former cement mine surrounded by industrial ruins in the Catskill region of New York.
Here are the details:
IN:SITE is a summer-long outdoor art exhibit at the Century House Historical Society (CHHS) on the Snyder Estate in Rosendale, NY, home of the Widow Jane Mine. Curated by Jenny Lee Fowler and Natasha Maria Brooks-Sperduti, fifteen artists from the Northeast present site-specific sculptures and performances engaging the location’s rich natural and industrial histories.
Show runs 6/26 through 9/9/2016, open 7 days a week sunrise to sunset
Opening: Sunday, 6/26/2016, 1:00 pm – 4:00 pm
Closing: Saturday, 9/10/2016, 2:00 pm – 5:00 pm
Where: Century House Historical Society (CHHS), at the Snyder Estate, 668 NY-213, Rosendale, NY
My contribution will be a short visual history of the site in the form of a visitor’s booklet. There will be lots of other work on display too: sculpture, dance and sound installation, all engaged with the mine and environs as a living presence. Take a look at the artists’ profiles and past work at : http://insiterosendale.com/
Photo: room-and-pillar mining (detail of illustration of F.O. Norton Cement quarries at Binnewater, Ulster County, NY). Courtesy of Century House Historical Society.
” People use the world and its material richness to think with, not just to re-create thoughts they already have…
…Thus, Barth emphasized human engagement with, as opposed to distanced contemplation of, the material world as critical to the process of meaning production.”
– Nicole Boivin on the work of anthropologist Fredrik Barth in Material Cultures, Material Minds
With legs like wire
Snaking towards the belfry
Freedom god damnit
The fossiliferous bloom
Trains my attention to the knots in my back
and the orogenies
I sprint towards the funnelesque point of entry
but too big to enter
and causing a sprain.
By day, the city is made of flesh and stone.
It is a binary field of openings and constraints.
It is produced and programmed by a social order in which phenomena—whether the rise of a new parking garage or the opening of a soup kitchen—have contingent but no less definite sets of meanings.
It stares back, and it anxiously resists a sense of play,
The temporal signature of the daytime city is flux.
The nighttime city is a web of electric lights.
It invites stochastic, incidental correspondences of subjective meaning.
When I was a child, my mother warned me that there was a giant gorilla living in the blue lantern at the top of the Industrial Trust Building. I worried that the beast might wake in a thrashing rage at any moment.
It is half-blind, and lends itself to imaginative re-inscriptions.
The temporal signature of the nighttime city is the flicker.
The electrified horizon stands in for the now-starless night sky as a fount of myth—a sort of technological surrogate for the dimming cosmos.
One time, a friend asked me for a ride to “some hipster church” in Providence that she had just started attending. She brought her own incense, intending to give it to the Christians to burn during the service. At the time I thought her unsolicited offering was naive and maybe a bit too forward. I figured that these people, being religious, would have a certain fixed way of doing things, not open to improvisation by newcomers.
Now, thinking back on episode, I am in deep awe of her gesture. I wonder what would a society knit together by such loving improvisations would look like.