Brown Bag Bed

The bed is made.  Homing pigeons always return home.  Brown Bag Bed is an art project where I collected pigeon feathers to make a work consisting of an upended steel bed frame, pigeon feathers, paper bags, newspaper, foam, and wood.  The feathers are collected from New York City parks, playgrounds, walkways, and bridge tunnels.  These are the city’s in-between places, home to pigeons and street people.  We are surrounded by these spaces, yet for many they don’t exist. It is an unusual juxtaposition of the city: people living in public spaces, and pigeons leaving their feathers. My art is connected to these in-between, sometimes invisible parts of the city. The feathers were collected inside small brown paper bags, the kind used to conceal the label while drinking.  One bag is used for each day of collecting feathers.  Some bags have more feathers than others have because on that day there were more pigeon feathers found.  

 

 

Ladder Tree

A wooden ladder chained to a sidewalk tree is an unexpected urban image that haunts me.    The ladder is appendage to the tree, linked and marked by the chain. It is a kind of street discovery and these photographs try to make some sense of the relationships of the image.  It implies a private enterprise within a public space.   A working class signal of hopefulness describing something about the street, and neighborhood.    The ladder is (probably) not about climbing the tree, but rather needing its secure presence in order to exist.

There is a binary and tertiary relationship stabilized by the chain.   The photographs reflect this relationship thru steel reinforced frames and stands.  This representation which plays with presentation and methods of suspension is an over-emphasized gesture reflecting the complexity of the image.

 

 

MEXICAN IN EVERY KITCHEN

These graphite drawings depict kitchen exhaust hoods – the overhead stainless steel kind used for venting hot air and smoke from grills in commercial kitchens. Responding in part to the “Americana” of Richard Prince’s Car Hoods, only these "Hoods" examine the America of immigrant workers, specifically Mexican “cocineros” who staff nearly every restaurant kitchen in New York City. Beyond the American trope of wide open vistas and unlimited potential, I want my work to clear the air, by showing a close up view of America grounded in a hard reality hidden to most.

Graphite stick, prismacolor, and repeated text lines are the compositional means used to shape the drawings. Layers of graphite signify the shape, texture, and mass of the hoods. The letters are crowded on the page to reflect the working conditions of the subject. Cruciform shapes recall spiritual symbols of Mexican and native cultures, citing the Catholic religion, or the four corners of the earth. (Malevich meets the Navajo Dine)

My Mother’s family emigrated two generations ago from Mexico. Our family crossed at the Texas border, lived in Colorado, and then eventually settled in California. In the 21st century this frontier passage is an ongoing story – an immigration struggle, and a life struggle that continues to unfold every single day. Constantly redefining itself, this fluid America is history made as we speak. The kitchen workers I see remind me of this ongoing effort, and the layers of inherent meaning. The Hood drawings symbolize the hidden layers of struggle inherent in the complex lives of kitchen workers.

Minority workers directly impact the economy. Employing the financial advantage of a readily available, low pay work force, most New York kitchens are staffed by immigrants. This workforce, if not already accomplished, often develop a high skill set to perform the work. Frequently employed in highbrow eateries, kitchen workers earn less than living wages, and exist at the edge of poverty. Essential to America’s prosperity, the standard of living of this hidden working class is ignored.

During the Presidential race, prior to the Great Depression of 1930, Herbert Hoover included in his campaign slogan:

"A chicken in every pot

A car in every garage"

This was the Republican Party’s promise that average Americans could and should have a middle class life. Hoover’s words hold an enduring myopic optimism with a dubious caveat: provided there is a ‘Mexican in Every Kitchen’. In other words America needs the hidden working class of immigrants, undocumented, and under-recognized workers to provide the backbone of this economy’s labor needs. This effort, this toil – is work that nobody else wants to do, and is routinely completed with a salary and working condition that citizens here would not tolerate. These drawings show a link between America’s insatiable need for growth and prosperity supplied by an immigrant labor force. American would not have it’s ‘chicken in every pot’ without the hidden working class to provide it. This is the America that I see.