Towards Infinity collage

It’s Time To Stick Together |60 Years Of Collage In America
Includes collages by Beverly Brodsky

The Robert Berry Gallery
Curated by Peter Hastings Falk
Opens AUGUST 10TH 2020

At: Robert Berry Gallery
robertberrygallery.com/artists

Inter-Connected collage 30″ x 22″

Hampton Virtual Art Fair
Beverly Brodsky exhibiting with Quogue Gallery

Sept 2 – 7 Labor Day Weekend

More info art: robertberrygallery.com/artists“>H amptons Virtual Art Fair.com

photo: Barry Hetherington

Free !! showing of solos (in progress and in red costumes) that will also become a duet, in a beautiful natural setting by our magnificent Hudson River. Masks and social distancing will enhance the event.

Who: Choreographer – Beth Soll Dancers – Abigail Dias and Beth Soll. Scenery and lighting by you know who.

When: Thursday, September 3 at 9:45AM. The SHOW is about 25 minutes long–at most.

Where: Someplace between 12th street and 10th street on the grass by the river. Directions below. It won’t be hard to find us.

What: We will show two independent solos, and then we’ll perform them at the same time. We will not have done them together for a few weeks. Will it work? Come and see!

Why: Viewers contribute to and complete dances. We love having you around. Kids are welcome! Ultimately, we’re going to make a film with a simultaneous showing of the two independent solos. Film artist: Ethan Mass.

Why so early? Sorry about that. It’s a space problem. Please be on time: 9:45AM.

After 9 or so, the place starts filling up with parents/babysitters/sunbathers on the grass. AND after about 10:10, there’s too much sun for dancers or audience members.

Suggestions: Bring something sit on. There will be dew and . . .? It’s cooler by the river than in other places. Insect repellent is a good idea.

Directions: Basically, you’ll be going toward Westbeth. Take the subway to the 14th street ACE stop. Get out at the downtown end of the train. Walk down 8th Avenue and turn right on 12th Street. Walk West to the River until you get to the light on the highway. Loooong light. Cross the street. By the river, walk South until you see two dancers in red. I will also send an email that morning once I know where we are.

You can also cross the highway at 11th, but then you’ll have to walk north to see where we are, and if you don’t see us, then you’ll have to walk South.

Reservations? Not possible. We expect 0-10 people, but you never know. Only come if you feel like it and then sit 6 feet from others. We’re going to dance that morning even if there are -3 people there, UNLESS IT’S RAINING, in which case we’ll cancel and reschedule later.

Questions:
bethsbron@gmail.com Company info: bethsollandcompany.org

Beth Soll, PhD, is the Artistic Director of Dance Projects, Inc./Beth Soll & Company. With her company, which was formed in 1977, she has performed in many U.S. cities and abroad. She has received numerous grants and awards from the NEA and from state, civic, and private sources. She has taught dance courses and directed dance programs at high schools, private studios, and universities, such as MIT, where she directed the Dance Program for 20 years, Boston University, The Boston Conservatory, UC Santa Barbara, Hofstra University, The New School, and Manhattanville College. Her book, Will Modern Dance Survive? Lessons to be Learned from the Pioneers and Unsung Visionaries of Modern Dance, was published in 2002.

Carver Audain, Set-a-Spell US Idiomatic, Countrified, 2018. Found flag, rocking chair, cinder blocks. Photo: Jia Li.

September 10, 2020–January 17, 2021
Opening: Wednesday, September 9, 2020, noon–10pm
Artists: Michael Asher, Carver Audain, John Steuart Curry, Sam Durant, Jimmie Durham, Andrea Fraser, Dan Graham, Renée Green, Calla Henkel / Max Pitegoff, Mike Kelley, Caitlin MacBride, Jill Magid, Ken Lum, Adrian Piper, Martha Rosler, Cameron Rowland, Robert Venturi / Denise Scott Brown, Jessica Vaughn, Marisa Williamson
Curator: John Miller

With Lost in America, Neuer Berliner Kunstverein (n.b.k.) presents a group exhibition of works by American artists from 1938 to the present which sharpens our understanding of the current political situation in the USA. The exhibition revisits American history with investigations of the influences and developments that have shaped the identity of the United States through its specific national and political economy—in particular the institution of slavery and its tragic legacy in terms of culture and everyday life. A central theme is the examination of racism and its role in a neoliberal agenda that significantly influences social discourses and political decisions. Lost in America is concerned with the ideological formation of modes of production and urban planning, architecture, and design, and with the overarching institutionalization of discriminatory dispositives. In doing so, it ultimately highlights the inherent potential of conceptual art practices to expose and critique the structures that underpin society.

Hans Haacke. 20 Years of “DER BEVÖLKERUNG (To the Population)” at the German Bundestag. A Project Documentation.
September 10, 2020–January 15, 2021
Opening: Wednesday, September 9, 2020, noon–10pm
Curator: Oliver Schwarz

On the occasion of the 20th anniversary of DER BEVÖLKERUNG (To the Population), documents, drafts, and archival materials on the genesis and reception of Hans Haacke’s once controversially discussed art project will be displayed at Neuer Berliner Kunstverein‘s Showroom. The artist designed this participatory project in 1998 at the invitation of the German Bundestag for the northern atrium of the Reichstag building. After a fierce debate in the Bundestag, his proposal was accepted by a narrow majority in a roll-call vote; the work was inaugurated on September 12, 2000. Haacke drew inspiration for his work from Bertolt Brecht’s essay “Five Difficulties in Writing the Truth” (1934). His dedication DER BEVÖLKERUNG (To the Population) is a direct reference to the inscription “DEM DEUTSCHEN VOLKE” (To the German People), which was mounted on the gable of the west portal of the Reichstag building in 1916. Using the same typeface as that on the west portal, the dedication DER BEVÖLKERUNG has beamed towards the sky in neon letters from the bottom of a wooden trough for the last 20 years. Upon the artist’s invitation, more than 400 members of the Bundestag have each scattered a hundredweight of earth from their respective constituencies around the dedication in the trough. A wild, untamed biotope has sprung from the seeds already present in the soil.

Poster and banner campaign in the public space
On the occasion of Berlin Art Week 2020, n.b.k. is initiating the presentation of Hans Haacke’s work, Wir (alle) sind das Volk (We (all) are the people), 2003/2017. The work will be displayed on the facades of select partner institutions in Berlin. Originally designed for a public ideas competition in Leipzig, Haacke’s work takes up the slogan of East German demonstrators from 1989 in order to emphasize solidarity among all people, including migrants and refugees. Exhibition venues: Akademie der Künste at Pariser Platz, Gropius Bau, KINDL – Center for Contemporary Art, Haus der Kulturen der Welt, Volksbühne Berlin, and other partner institutions.

More information at Neuer Berliner Kunstverein

HOW I FORGAVE MY BROTHER
Medium

(This was first published in The Jewish Journal)
“Why do you want to be alone with me?” Irwin wrote back.
Although it was an email I could hear and feel his anger.
“I’d love you to voice Dad’s WWII letter for my film,” I wrote back.
He instantly replied, “I’m sorry I signed the release. I don’t want to have anything to do with your film.”
Before I finished reading his response, my head started to throb, something, which hadn’t happened in decades.
Why was Irwin saying this and now? I was just about to finish my movie, a deeply personal documentary I had spent the last three years working on; the one that I had 250 backers for; the one that I got sick while making due to reliving the trauma; the one that I poured my heart into with one motivation to help others.
I was scheduled to go to his house for brunch. I was hoping to record him then. Now, I was afraid to even see him. For sure he’d bully me, something he’d done continuously since we were kids. He was my big brother. Aren’t big brothers supposed to protect you?
I needed him in the film. I couldn’t entirely remove him. He’d given me a beautiful interview, which was filled with empathy, something I had never experienced from him before.
The next day I woke up sick. I had no appetite and couldn’t stop vomiting even though I had nothing to throw up. My head was throbbing and the room was spinning. Fear was seeping out of every pore of my body.
I hadn’t felt this way since I was child living at home. In seventh grade on the way to Hebrew School in a carpool of kids, I mentioned I had a headache. They all asked me what was that. I had thought everyone had headaches.
Huddled over the toilet, I knew I had to cancel my plans for the day. I was supposed to meet a backer of my film who lived in Scarsdale. She had mailed me a letter sharing the trauma of her childhood.
When I pulled myself together, I called her. The phone rang with no answer. She didn’t have a mobile and was picking me up at the train station two hours from then. I had to go. I couldn’t leave her waiting for me with no way to reach her.
As I sat on Metro North with a plastic bag in hand just in case I started retching again, I looked outside the window. I kept asking myself, why did Irwin now tell me he didn’t want to be in my movie.
I knew I hadn’t forgiven him yet. My work had been focused on my mother and I had succeeded to forgive her.
There was much to do to finish and release my film especially as the producer, director, editor and distributor.
I postponed the emotional work I would need to do in order to forgive Irwin. It would take time and digging, both of which I didn’t have.
As I gazed at the moving landscape, the answer came to me. Don’t wait. You must forgive Irwin now.
I decided I’d go to his house for brunch but I wouldn’t go alone. I was so afraid I would crumble from his hectoring. Irwin was an extremely private person and I knew he’d restrain himself in front of a stranger.
I asked a buddy who was Irwin’s age to come along. We stopped on the way for me to fetch fresh bagels.
As I stood outside ringing his doorbell my stomach turned. My mission was to get in and get out of his house as fast as possible. I wasn’t going to bring up my movie, just talk about world affairs.
Irwin’s future wife answered the door. Behind her leaning on the spiral staircase was a life size mounted portrait of Irwin wearing a suit, yarmulke and tallis from his Bar Mitzvah in 1959.
“Why’s that there?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. He wanted you to see it,” she responded.
Both curious and worried what I was walking into she led the way to the kitchen where Irwin was waiting. I plodded to him and kissed him lightly on his cheek and introduced him to my friend.
Being around Irwin was never a warm, loving experience. It didn’t take much to unleash his anger. One time I was visiting for a holiday gathering during the day. I had to be back in Manhattan for something I was participating in by 7 PM. He was settled on the couch with some of his guests watching a ball game while the rest of the family was scattered in the kitchen and the backyard. I had to get to the train station. Not wanting to disturb anyone I asked if someone had a phone number for a taxi.
Irwin started screaming. “This is not about you. You can’t wait until the game is over and I’ll take you.”
He was so loud that everyone heard him, perhaps his neighbors, too. His wife ran in startled. Just another offense on my growing record. I never knew what I would do that would piss him off. Frequently, it felt like just my presence annoyed him.
Now, there was something so critical, something I couldn’t give in to, something he couldn’t control, my film. I had to make the best possible movie without his involvement.
Our brunch was going well. Just as we finished and were ready to say good-bye, Irwin directed us to follow him to his finished basement.
Sitting on his desk he pointed to his baby book from 1946. He was the first born of three. As I went through it, gently turning each page, I marveled at each item that was cut, placed and pressed on these pages — his hair, baby announcement card, and ribbons. Mom had written down everything in Irwin’s book. As I hemmed and hawed, my big brother started singing, “I’m the Prince. I’m the Prince. Your next movie is going to be about me.” He sang this over and over again.
That was all I needed. My prayers had been answered. Prior to this, Irwin was my brother whose life was filled with riches — partner of a law firm, a gorgeous house, fancy cars, many friends, a loving wife, children and grandchildren. Now, I saw his pain. I didn’t know what caused it, what happened in his childhood, but I saw him as a wounded child desperate for attention and love. This gave me the ability to forgive him.
My friend commented in the car on the way home. “Boy, your brother is a narcissist.”
Two years later Irwin was diagnosed with metastatic cancer. Three years later he passed away. It was devastating to watch his body deteriorate and see him in so much pain. He fought to the end, still controlling everything. The day he returned from making his funeral arrangements, I was visiting. For the first time in my life, I was invited often and was thrilled to be there to give him my love. I wished I had a magic wand that could heal him. As he withered away, my heart ached. Irwin was taking his rage to the grave. I was losing my brother, my emergency number, the only person who never missed sending me a Valentine’s card and the one who no matter what happened I knew he would be there for me.
I was now so grateful for the email Irwin sent me years prior, as it was the trigger, which allowed me to forgive and love him no matter what he said and did.

FINDING MY HAPPY PLACE
Adirondack Daily Enterprise
I’m a New Yorker — a Manhattanite. After spending four months in my apartment sheltering in place, then witnessing the looting by opportunist and career criminals of businesses that were barely surviving due to being closed, it was time for me to leave my beloved city and get into nature.

I leased a condo in Lake Placid, rented a car and hit the road.

As soon the mountains became visible, I pulled over and got out. I stood like a kid in a candy store taking it all in. As I gazed at the overwhelming beauty of the peaks, my eyes welled up. I felt alive again. I could breathe the uncontaminated fresh air.

During the rest of my drive, I passed lakes, rivers and waterfalls. Turning into Lake Placid, emerging from the horizon was the 1980 Olympic ski jump set against the green pastures. I wanted to stop at almost every turn to take a photo.

It was July 4 weekend, and although Lake Placid had canceled all its events including Ironman, concerts and even fireworks to avoid pulling in crowds, the streets were filled with people — many tourists, all eager like myself to leave their homes, cities and confinement and get to nature, where they could enjoy the freedoms and recreation. Most of the people were wearing masks in the streets, and those who I asked who were not turned out to be visitors.

Having been here over two weeks, I’m in awe of how this area has managed COVID-19 and the respect the community has for each other. I’ve never felt safer.

Mayor Craig Randall commented, “We’re a resort community and want visitors and locals to feel comfortable and welcomed, but no one wants to see a spike of COVID cases.”

Since March 14, the county of Essex, with an approximate population of 39,000, according to the mayor, has had only 53 people testing positive, in which 15 are prison inmates. All have recovered. (Editor’s note: Those numbers are out of date. As of Monday, Essex County reported two active cases of COVID-19 and 72 total cases since the pandemic began in March: 56 of whom tested positive and another 16 suspected positive from a time when testing was scarce. Of the test-positive cases, 16 were inmates.)

As I started my daily walk around Mirror Lake, I discovered a happy place to work in the morning — sitting on an Adirondack chair in the covered bandstand, facing the windows looking at the lake. It didn’t matter if it rained, as I was protected.

When hunger struck and I wanted a snack, I packed up and found the Adirondack Popcorn store on Main Street, which sold many flavors. I ordered sweet and salty. The server was behind a plexiglass divider when he handed me my selection. Then he slipped underneath the divider an open, flat, plastic container for me to put in my credit card.

“Oh, you’re going to touch it, now?” I asked in my smartypants New York City voice.

“We have a protocol. I’ll clean it afterwards.”

He did just that. Sprayed it with disinfectant, put it back in the container and slid it to me.

Next he passed under his clear barrier, the credit card slip for me to sign with a pen.

“Oh, now I have to touch this pen?”

I was sure he was about have enough of me.

Kindly, he responded, “We clean them in between each person.”

I left with my delicious box of popcorn and moseyed on down the street while window shopping.

A couple of days later, I found myself at a restaurant, which came recommended, called the Cottage, right on the lake, where I sat outside. When I asked to see the menu, the masked waitress pointed to the framed QR code sitting in the middle of my table.

“Do you have an iPhone?”

“Yes”

“Just aim your camera at it, and it will direct you to our website with the menu.”

I was impressed and wondered about the patrons who didn’t have a smartphone.

The waitress explained, “We do have some paper menus. It’s just that in the beginning we ran off 500, as we throw them away after each person uses it, and we were killing a lot of trees.”

“This is brilliant.” I responded as I then looked down at my phone to read the menu.

A few days later I decided to take a stroll and enjoy the sunset by the lake. As I sauntered into town it was close to 9 p.m., and my stomach was growling. I hadn’t eaten dinner. The restaurants had stopped serving when I noticed Chinese take-out was open. The kitchen was behind and under the menu on the wall. They had built a plexiglass divider with a tiny sliding window.

When I ordered, the woman on the other side in the kitchen responded and her voice came through a little speaker that was right in front of me. Clever, I thought.

“How long will it take?” I asked.

“Fifteen minutes.”

I set my timer and headed out. When I returned, I was waiting by the window for my food when the women’s voice came through the speaker.

“It’s in the box.”

“What box?” I asked.

She pointed to a large wooden box that was placed between the inside, where she and her cook were, and the side where I stood. I lifted the door and discovered a brown bag with my pad Thai in it.

“Ingenious” I thought.

A few days later, I discovered the Adirondack Mountain Coffee Cafe, a gem located in Upper Jay. As it was in the 90s, I chose to sit inside where there was air conditioning. The waitress asked me to sign their contact tracer. This was the first time in months that I was eating inside a restaurant. My eyes welled up again with joy. I felt safe and happy.

If I could spend the rest of COVID-19 time up here, I would. As I will be leaving and heading south to help my elderly mother in Florida, which has now emerged as the global epicenter of the coronavirus, I wish their leadership and residents could follow the proper protocol. I look forward to the day this virus is behind us.

GAYLE KIRSCHENBAUM Emmy award winning filmmaker, TV producer, TED speaker, writer, photographer with a wanderlust. Teach forgiveness as seen in my film LOOK AT US NOW, MOTHER!

—

“Even with an ocean between us, and a stay at home order, we can still groove together. Each musician – one live take!”

NYC recording artist Valerie Ghent was scheduled to be in France in May and on tour there in July. As lockdown kept all musicians indoors, in early May Valerie and her bandmates in France, Jérôme Buigues, François Gomez and Fred ‘Diego’ Alfonsi, decided to make a live recording of one of their most popular tunes, Get Funkay. Recorded in the South of France and NYC, each musician recorded one live take, videoing at the same time.

What do you do when you’re stuck in NYC and your band is in the South of France? “Make a live video!” Valerie exclaims with a smile. “We wanted to capture a real-time, live feel, no overdubs or punch-ins. It’s the way I make all my records, bringing great musicians together to record live. Though we couldn’t all be in the same room, or even same continent, we can still make music together! I was jumping around the house all day, playing with Fred, Jé and François was the most fun I’d had since being confined at home in early March.”

In April 2020, Jérôme started a video series of “Lockdown Sessions” with French musicians. Get Funkay is the first international video in the series. Get Funkay was written by Valerie and Jérôme a few years ago – and first released on Valerie’s album, Velours. It’s a fave at all their live concerts. “We wrote Get Funkay in about 20 minutes, the lyric/melody came to me while walking home one day, I heard this guitar riff in my head. When I got to France I sang it to Jé and he brought it to life!” Valerie explains.

“For this version, I was super excited that Fred could record drums at his home studio – Fred and I played together in Cannes, he’s great! – and François Gomez (bass) is the best, part of my band whenever I play in France. Jé surprised me by adding in the breakdown we play at concerts, and a killer guitar solo – and then sent the tracks to me in NYC to add vocals/keyboards in my home studio. What you see and hear is my first take! It felt like we were all together again. Keeping it live, fun, stripped down, and real. We hope this version of Get Funkay brings a smile and makes you wanna get up and move!”

More info at:Valerie Ghent.com

As artists, we had reasons we already felt were relevant in making “GANG” as concept, theme, content creation and final works.
We do not support violence & unfortunately our content continues to be relevant in 2020 forward. “Gang”’s content reflects a repeating situation of oppression, divisive politics.
The divisive nature of the current presidential seat is disgusting.
He is a danger to everyone.

THIS CANNOT HAPPEN EVER AGAIN.
OUR UPSIDE DOWN BLACK AND WHITE FLAG REPRESENTS THE CURRENT STATE OF AMERICA.
WE ARE NOT OK WITH THE CURRENT VIOLENT, DIVISIONIST, LYING, WHITE HOUSE ADMINISTRATION.

WAKE UP!!! THIS IS NOT GOOD!!!

THEY ARE BREAKING DOWN OUR UNITED STATES OF AMERICA & DESTROYING OUR RESOURCES, OPPORTUNISTIC BRIDGES AND GLOBAL REPUTATION EVERY DAY.
THIS IS NOT ENTERTAINMENT OF LOSS AND STRUGGLE, THIS IS REAL AND ENLIGHTENING TO A REPEATING REALITY!!!
ALLOWING IT IN AMERICA CREATES SIMILAR EFFECTS OF DISSONANCE & MISMANAGEMENT AROUND THE WORLD.

OUR RESPONSIBILITY AS INDIVIDUALS IS TO BE GOOD PEOPLE & HELP EACH OTHER!!!

OUR ARTISTRY IS HERE TO STOP DISCRIMINATION & VIOLENCE!!!

LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL.

LCKYxKXXNYCxBONNIEBLUExKBM GANG GOLDMASTER T11 G

Produced by: @LCKYNYC
VIDEO & MEDIA BY @LCKY.IMG
Video & Studio recordings: 10/31 – 11/04 2019
LCKYNYC, RRNYC, B&BMG

LYRICS BY:

@KXXNYC
@Bonitaazul
@BOYOKY22

STYLES BY:

@angrm_tokyo

THANK YOU:

@meganoke
@boyoky22
@delnyc
@brianayoga
@westbeth_artists_housing

Westbeth volunteers: Blanka Harper, Mar Reagon, Samantha Hall, Halina Warren, and others, plus Erik Bottcher, Chief of Staff for Speaker Corey Johnson

NYC Council Speaker Corey Johnson’s office distributed 2,000 pantry boxes to homebound seniors and families across Council District 3.

IAC and High Line together purchased $50,000 worth of Fresh Direct boxes filled with groceries.

Volunteers from an effort launched by Johnson’s office will deliver the boxes to residents. Volunteers called thousands of seniors to check that they had supplies. The boxes will also go to public housing complexes and other affordable housing buildings for distribution.

“When times are tough, New Yorkers come together and help one another,” Johnson said.

– Beth Dedman
Read complete article in AM New York

l-r Blanka Harper, Halina Warren, Samantha Hall, and Mar Reagon

At NYCHA Fulton Houses with volunteers and Westbeth ladies preparing 200 Trader Joe’s pantry bags containing a total of 600 meals for seniors for COVID relief.

Lorraine O Grady ART IS…Line of Floats 1983-2009 (Detail)

Lorraine O’Grady’s Art Is … (1983/2009) was a joyful performance in Harlem’s 1983 African-American Day Parade. O’Grady created the work as a rebuttal to an acquaintance’s assertion that “avant-garde art doesn’t have anything to do with Black people.” Putting avant-garde art into the largest Black space she could think of—the million-plus viewers of the parade—she sought to prove her friend wrong.

As the nine by fifteen foot antique-styled gold frame mounted on a float moved slowly up Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard, framing everything it passed as art, O’Grady knew she had resoundingly proved her acquaintance wrong. She watched the fifteen young actors and dancers dressed in white frame viewers with empty gold picture frames to shouts of “Frame me, make me art!” and “That’s right, that’s what art is, We’re the art!” She would later conclude, “[Art Is …] was to be about art, not about the art world … rather than an invasion, it was more a crashing of the party.”

Alexander Gray Associates offers these groupings of available prints from Lorraine O’Grady’s Art Is … as representative of the artist’s celebrated series.
Please note, prices are subject to edition availability.

See the entire Lorraine O’Grady’s ART IS