Saturday, April 21, 2007

Culpable--First Reception

Cat men

The turnout for my show last night can only be described as abysmal, but I sold 8 pieces outright, with two ore promised to people when they get the cash, so who the hell cares how many people turned up?

I did the only sensible thing after the show, and got wasted at the tiki bar next door with my friends. I have this funny habit when I get drunk. Inebriation turns me into an overprotective mother hen, and I become overly concerned about everyone's wellbeing. I take it upon myself to make sure the passed out girl gets to bed, and that she doesn't fall asleep with her shoes on. I prevent my loquacious friend from insulting the doorman, or sleeping with the married girl. And then I sober up and stop caring about people and whether or not they sleep in shoes.

Cubes, skeleton, and self portrait
The next reception for it will be even better, and I'll have five new pieces that I intend to finish by then.

Jason and fawn
For the opening, I made a sign and framed it, and hung it on the wall. It read "You may gently interfere with their lives." Giving people permission to touch art started out by just making them nervous, and eventually grown men were lying on the floor talking to inanimate objects.

I had set up all my creatures in two opposing armies, facing off across the room from each other. Everyone after than placed them into little groups, and made sure each creature had a friend. I tested this by placing a few in corners on their own, and sure enough, the next person immediately cooed over them in concern, and either brought another guy over to keep them company, or ushered them into a larger group.

on the floor

(thanks to Jeff and Jefferson for the photos)

3 comments:

shula said...

Hilarious.

Feltbug said...

Your work is amazing !

Urban Vegan said...

Congratulations! Pretty darn good for a first reception. You should try to get a show here in Philly--we have many galleries.

I love your work--and I like the idea of inviting people to interact with it. Art, by my definition anywaC, is supposed to make you feel a little uncormfortable, a little "stretched."