So, I'm not attempting to argue for one side or another in this post. Just thinking about somethings and asking questions. I recently read a Hyperallergic article about a controversial nude piece up in a downtown Manhattan gallery, Rivington Design House. It got me thinking about nudity in the art world. My initial thought was "Yea! Finally an image of a nude man instead of a nude woman!".
The nude male photograph in the front window of a Manhattan gallery (Image Courtesy of Claire Voon).
Now introducing...drum roll please...HYPERLINK!!! A group of artists, of which I am a part, who originally know each other from Colorado, have started an art collective thing. We've named the group Hyperlink because we're trying to "physically enact the way the internet has shaped our experience as artists". For now, we are using Chicago as our "homepage" city, and we have set up gallery space in the Zhou B Art Center.
Every month will feature a different show, with the opening reception
held on the the third Friday. With every show that is done we aim to incorporate homepage based individuals. An artist in
Chicago may be asked to curate or collaborate on a show. An art
historian may be invited to write a review or conduct an interview. We
are really hoping to use the space to connect with and learn from
artists who are outside of one's own physical space (Colorado). I am so excited to be involved with such a dynamic and rich group of artists! Let me introduce you to the crew.
Is this home? What is home? A colleague of mine asked us what each of us associates with home. Since then the idea of home has been an unpacked suitcase in the closet of my mind. I've been in Colorado for the last two weeks and most of the time stayed at my family's house. Is that my home? No. I love it there, but it is my parent's home.
What and where is my home? Do I, can I have only one home? I know a house is not my home. I'm not crazy about the house I live in now, but it is where my home is. It is not my home, it is where my home resides.
I'm warning you now. This is going to sound very mushy. I was in Colorado for my wedding. At one point during a conversation I remember being asked why I love the man I was about to marry. I find that an almost impossible question to answer. I can name a bazillion things I love about him, but none of those are exactly why I love him. I felt any answer I gave would take this unmeasurable feeling I have for him and reduce it down to one thing that can fit in a jar and hold a label.
So, the closest answer I could come up with that was true and did not reduce what I feel for him was that he feels like home.