ICA Foster Prize Exhibition
November 11, 2008 - March 1, 2009
There were two entrances to my space.
Andrew Witkin with the help of Aaron Luckman, Aaron T. Stephan, Adam Wells, Alissa Farber, Alvin Krakow,
Amy Baker Sandback, Amy Witkin, Ana Tiscornia, Andrea Anastasio, Arielle Saiber, Asher
Thal-Nir, Barbara Krakow, Benjamin Chaffee, Beth Kantrowitz, Bill Arning, Bill Thompson,
Brendan Greaves, Bronlyn Jones, Carla Herrera-Prats, Carole Anne Meehan, Cary Leibowitz,
Celia Pym, Charmaine Wheatley, Chris Boulter, Damon Bishop, Dan Scholnick, Darren Foote,
Dave Greenblatt, Dick Albright, Dirk Adams, Donald Judd, Douglas Weathersby, Drew Volpe,
Eazy-E, Ellen Berkman, Emily Isenberg, Gertrude Matz, Hannah Barrett, Hannah Burr, Heather
Pesanti, Ignacio Prado, Jamie Horgan, Janet Moore, Jen Mergel, Jeremy McDonnell, Joakim
Schmidt, Joe Meyer, Joe Scanlan, John Dewey, Jordan Rosenblum, Jon Witkin, Josh Falk, Julie
Garfield Reich, Kat Parker, Kate Shepherd, Katie Auffinger, Katie Rashid, Kellam Scott, Kelly
Sherman, Kiki Smith, Kimon Kirk, Lara Burakowski Cocken, Laurel Sparks, Larissa Harris,
Lauren Fensterstock, Lia Davis, Lila Kanner, Liliana Porter, Luigi Anastasio, Luke Fishbeck,
Manuel De Santaren, Marsha Ginsberg, Marvin Hagler, Maryellen Latas, Megan Riley, Megan
Sullivan, Michael Bernstein, Michael Heizer, Nancy Holt, Natalia Porter, Nell Gould, Nick Terry,
Nina Felshin, Pablo Colapinto, Pancho Mattoras, Patricia Reville, Paula Witkin, Peter Flaherty,
Pieranna Cavalchini, Randi Hopkins, Rebecca Ratzkin, Richard Serra, Rob Weiner, Robert
Bauer, Robert Smithson, Robert White, Roger Witkin, Russell LaMontagne, Ryan Cross,
Sanjay Dalela, Sara Petras, Sarah King McKeon, Sarah Thompson, Shellburne Thurber, Stacie
Slotnick, Stacy Hill, Stephen Prina, Stephen Romansky, Stephanie Theodore, Suara Welitoff,
Susan Philipsz, Susan Sakash, Tatyana Gubash, Three, Tim Howard, Tim Obetz, Tim Peterson,
Topher Cox, Toru Nakanishi, Victoria Goldman, Walter De Maria, Wendy Tronrud, William
McCarthy & Yves Klein, among others
untitled, 1990 -
over one hundred and seventy-five framed photos, drawings, collages,
etchings & silkscreens, twelve cotton and burlap packing blankets, eight notebooks with
assorted photos tipped in, two bath towels (used from 1990 to 2007) hung on hooks, two
alabaster and grit spheres, two magnifying glasses, two pieces of candy, two mirrors, two
water glasses, one framed impression of Yves Klein’s “Le dimanche, 27 Novembre 1960 /
Le Journal d’un seul jour” from 1960, one present, wrapped in craft paper and sealed with
drafting tape, one empty metal frame and accompanying custom-cut matboard, one carved,
sanded and tumbled block of alabaster, one pair of safety glasses, one glass jar with coins,
one pencil sharpener, one spool of thread, one wine bottle, one compass, one watch, assorted
unframed drawings, sketches, plans, writings and newspaper clippings, assorted pods,
plastics, metals, rocks and fabrics, assorted photographs (some mounted on cintra), assorted
drafting tools and supplies, a number of boxes, numerous drawings, tickets, clippings and
other small papers, selected rolls of adhesive tape, several electrical diagrams, several rubber
bands, various unaltered found papers, some plumbing elements, collected found objects,
baltic birch plywood and stainless steel square-head screws, stained papers, foamcore,
matboard, portfolios & plexiglas, among other materials that will be altered, rearranged, added
and/or removed periodically
At 3:30 on January 18, 2009, Joey Meyer will perform
At 3:30 on January 25, 2009, Kimon Kirk will perform
At 3:30 on February 1, 2009, Stephen Prina will perform
At 3:30 on February 8, 2009, Lucky Dragons will perform
The show is made up of a group of elements that are best explained by 'walking you through the space' in a digital sort of way ... so here goes, starting from the entrance 'at the top' of the diagram above:
untitled, 1990 -
two bath towels (used from 1990 to 2007) hung on towel hooks
approximately 36 x 16 x 5 inches
untitled, 1992 -
baltic birch plywood, stainless steel square-head screws and alabaster
approximately 30 x 60 x 108 inches
Yves Klein
"Le dimanche, 27 Novembre 1960 / Le Journal d'un seul jour", 1960
newsprint on newspaper, framed
28.5 x 21.5 inches, framed (approximate)
untitled, 1992 -
twelve cotton and burlap packing blankets, baltic birch plywood, stainless steel square-head screws and ink on paper
installation dimensions variable, with two elements:
1) approximately 28 x 72 x 32 inches
and
2) approximately 16 x 28 x 16 inches
Paper on the table has the following text printed on it:
•
I met him a little under two years ago.
We got along very well from the beginning.
I visited him several times in Europe.
He was very generous to me.
He took me around, explained everything, translated anything.
I think he saw himself as my mentor.
He also saw how the relationship was more dynamic.
This summer I met his brother.
This summer I have spent a considerable amount of time with both of them.
His brother has HIV and some serious complications because of it.
His brother has been living with intense pain for two years.
His brother is stabilized in some ways, but the stability is at a level far less than what he was used to.
It is very painful for him to go about his daily life.
My friend and his brother are twins.
I want to say they were twins, but they still are.
My friend is full of life, knowledge, generousity, compassion, love and inquisitiveness.
His brother is full of pain.
They are both beautiful caring sensitive men.
I told my friend that I was interested in taking a portrait photo of the two of them.
As soon as I said it, I realized it was perhaps inappropriate.
Part of the beauty in his brother, to me, is the waif-like quality of his current appearance.
This can be mistaken for a purely cold appreciation of the death-be-upon-him look.
It is not.
It is an appreciation for the strength with which his brother has fought a war within his own body.
It is an appreciation for the strength with which he thinks and feels and fights every day.
It is an appreciation for the resulting reaction that his appearance has taken and the strength it signifies.
This is hard to convey between languages.
I think my friend was actually pained by my interest in the physical presence.
It, perhaps to him, is a reminder of how their lives are not now what they used to be.
I left it up to my friend to decide whether he thought his brother would have interest.
I am not sure if my friend is thinking about his brother's thoughts on the matter or his own.
My friend has been asked by his brother to help him die.
This process involves many things and is very difficult for my friend.
My friend's brother engaged me in a conversation about pain, suffering, and dying.
Three of us were with him: my friend, a friend of his and myself.
We sat at a table in front of a window, eating breakfast as he was talking.
He was wearing a white t-shirt and a white sarong.
The window he was sitting in front of let in the whitest most pure light.
It illuminated him.
As he was talking, we ate.
As he was talking, I wished I could photograph him.
As he was talking, I felt shame for thinking of art when this man was talking about pain, suffering and death.
He was talking with such forcefulness, such determination, but also with such serenity.
It was not the time or place to be thinking about art but the topic, his appearance, his clothing and the light all kept me thinking about art.
It was so clear to him what he was talking about that I began to feel it was ok to think in terms of documents.
He was an artist.
There were remnants of this practice everywhere - pigments, palettes, paintings, etc.
At the moment that I became more comfortable with my thoughts on photographing him, he spoke of his final performance.
Initially, I was horrified.
It felt so petty.
It felt so weak.
It felt so weird that he would think of pain, suffering and death in terms of art.
It made me question my thoughts on my thoughts of the situation, which I had found beautiful enough to photograph.
He explained his mentality of his death as a performance.
Abstract but to the point, it made sense to me.
It was saddening because I could see the pain on my friend's face.
I had no interest in photographing that sadness.
text on the wall is a list of friends' birthdays with an image on the back that is not legible:
untitled, 2001-
ink on two sides of a piece of paper
11 x 8.5 inches
untitled, 1996 -
two magnifying glasses, two pieces of candy, two mirrors, one present, wrapped in craft paper and sealed with drafting tape, one empty metal frame and accompanying custom-cut matboard, one pair of safety glasses, one glass jar with coins, one pencil sharpener, one spool of thread, one wine bottle, one compass, one watch, assorted unframed drawings, sketches, plans, writings and newspaper clippings, assorted pods, plastics, metals, rocks and fabrics, assorted photographs (some mounted on cintra), assorted drafting tools and supplies, a number of boxes with numerous drawings, tickets, clippings and other small papers, selected rolls of adhesive tape, several electrical diagrams, several rubbed bands, various unaltered found papers, some plumbing elements, collected found objects, baltic birch plywood and stainless steel square-head screws, stained papers, foamcore, matboard, portfolios & plexiglas, among other materials that will be altered, rearranged, added and/or removed periodically
36 x 72 x 32 inches
untitled, 1998 -
approximately 175 drawings, etchings, silkscreens, photographs, collages, and writings, among other works on paper, all framed and supporting
one sheet of 3/4" baltic birch plywood
approximately 20 x 132 x 24
and then coming at the same piece (untitled, 1998 - ) from the other entrance to the space:
and click here to see images from the four performances:
Kimon Kirk (with Ben Keyes), January 25, 2009