Senior Studio

Goodbye Ohio (Part 2: Goodbye Senior Studio 09)

2009-05-08T13:01:00.001-07:00

Come by Fisher tonight for Hilary Zarabi-Aazam and Sarina Roma's show, the final Senior Studio show!

It's been fun, and now it's just about over. But look how cute we were!

Goodbye Ohio!

2009-05-05T20:15:00.000-07:00

Some images from my show.

Lauren

John Choi and Antonio Papania-Davis' Senior Studio Show: Transverse

2009-05-04T17:49:00.000-07:00

in Fisher Gallery at Oberlin College

Distance

It is a distance that is ever present and constantly growing or closing. It may be the distance between the doorsteps of our homes and the hotel reception or between the workplace and the arms of family. It may be an hour or a day to that familiar beach, bus, or couch or it may take months and years to find a certain finally. The distance between our houses and our homes, between our dreams and our realities, between our words and our meanings; these are lengths we traverse daily under and among the traffic of colors, clouds, and sunlight.

A destination to which we are constantly departing, arrivals that are continually moving one month or city away, these are the distances in which we linger, in which these photographs dwell. They recall the sublime, the mundane, the familiar and the far. The titles, placed ambiguously between each piece, do not commit to one image or the other. They are given the freedom to move in between. They hint at possible cities of destination and departure. Sometimes they suggest the viewer on the ground and the location from which the planes are sighted. They serve as cues and invitations to intertwine one's own places and events far or near to themselves.

– John Choi

Beijing.
A hard summer to breathe. A friend I miss.

Milton.
After a match under the sun
we lay on the grass exhausted
agreeing on memories and the shapes of clouds.

Boston.
Boarding school
on the other end of the country.

Bellevue.
Sitting down at the park
I watch a plane and imagine its window views.
My dog watches birds and who knows
what he is imagining.

Hawaii.
Coming up for air, I see the sky
and the beads of water fall off my goggles.

Northridge.
Looking up from the playground
I imagine my mom returning
with each one that flies eastward.

Mexico.
Our teacher points out the figure of a lying woman
across the top of a mountain ridge and recalls a story of the gods.

Cleveland.
The red eye flights welcome my landings with sunrise, sometimes.

South Africa.
Living with Korean Buddhists.
Watching stars fall every night
and meditating before the sun rises.

Seoul.
Crossing the Pacific Ocean,
looking for a peninsula of relatives.

Costa Rica.
The waves wash over the shore until the water
is thin enough to mirror the sky.
I watch one person leaving behind
a trail of footprints in the rain, slippers in hand.

New York.
There is one person in this city I come to meet.

Texas.
Where I gazed at passing aloe fields and warm waters of the gulf of mexico.
Where my parents divorced without my knowledge.

Los Angeles.
A close friend called me and told me
he had an hour in the city.
I drove for thirty minutes
and we sat down for a drink
before he caught his transfer to Korea.

2009-04-29T14:21:00.001-07:00

2009-04-29T14:15:00.000-07:00

2009-04-29T14:09:00.000-07:00

2009-04-29T14:07:00.000-07:00

2009-04-29T14:06:00.000-07:00

2009-04-29T14:02:00.000-07:00

Amy Giovanna Rinaldi and Misha Davidoff's Final Show

2009-04-29T13:59:00.000-07:00

2009-04-27T15:49:00.000-07:00

2009-04-27T15:47:00.000-07:00

2009-04-27T15:41:00.000-07:00

2009-04-27T15:39:00.000-07:00

2009-04-27T15:38:00.000-07:00

2009-04-27T15:35:00.000-07:00

Art for softness, for hardness.
For translation.
For communication of things that don’t fit into text,
Of nuance and complicated feeling
Of everything in between.

Liminality (from the Latin word līmen, meaning "a threshold" is a psychological, neurological, or metaphysical subjective, conscious state of being on the "threshold" of or between two different existential planes. The liminal state is characterized by ambiguity, openness, and indeterminacy. Liminality is a period of transition where normal limits to thought, self-understanding, and behavior are relaxed - a situation which can lead to new perspectives. People, places, or things may not complete a transition, or a transition between two states may not be fully possible. Those who remain in a state between two other states may become permanently liminal. Plants such as seaweed (between sea and land) and mistletoe (between earth and sky) are not only liminal themselves, but are used in liminal rituals such as healing. One could also consider seals, crabs, shorebirds, frogs, bats, dolphins/whales and other "border animals" to be liminal. It should come as no surprise that these liminal creatures figure prominently in mythology as shapeshifters and spirit guides. Wounds are liminal in that a wound is in constant flux, either getting better or getting worse. It is a site of healing or infection (or both, simultaneously). Menstruation is a condition in which (like a wound) the boundary between the inside of the body and the outside of the body is broken. . Noon and, more often, midnight can be considered liminal, the first transitioning between morning and afternoon, the latter between days. Sex is a liminal act. Doors, windows, springs, caves, shores, rivers, volcanic calderas, fords, passes, crossroads, bridges, and marshes are all liminal. Major transformations occur at crossroads and other liminal places, a t least partly because liminality -- being so unstable -- can pave the way for access to esoteric knowledge or understanding of both sides. Liminality is sacred, alluring, and dangerous.

2009-04-27T15:33:00.000-07:00

RH Factor

2009-04-21T14:18:00.000-07:00

The first video I've ever made! Oh gosh.

So much thanks to Will Bangs for the music.

-Savannah

Squaring Off

2009-04-20T09:58:00.000-07:00

Senior exhibition of Nick Wirtz and Noah Kalos

I could go on about the chairs I have seen, part 2

2009-04-14T18:03:00.000-07:00

I could go on about the chairs I have seen, Helen and Cara

2009-04-14T17:44:00.001-07:00

Some scenes from Cara Turett and Helen Stuhr-Rommereim's final show, which opened Friday, April 10th, 2009.

Thanks to Seth Schneer and John Seyfreid for the beautiful photos!

SEAM

2009-04-13T20:28:00.000-07:00

Savannah Mirisola-Sullivan: SEAM

2009-04-13T20:16:00.000-07:00

Arm Vein Detail

Chest Vein

Wrist Detail

Knee Detail

Skull Detail

Skull Sampler

Knee Sampler

Rib Cage Sampler

Pelvis Sampler

Installation

My grandmother passed away this fall. We had received the phone calls, the emails, the letters. In theory, I was expecting her death, but I was not prepared for my reaction to it. Instead of mourning, I hoarded. Things that were not important during her lifetime suddenly became excruciatingly dear to me. It became essential for me to keep her old socks, her gloves, her shirts that I had never seen her wear. I needed to physically hold on to her.

What do we leave behind when we die? This question plagues me. I sit around wondering about it, warm in my grandmother’s wool socks, aware of the time passing because of her watch on my wrist. This question was born originally out of the change that has become so constant in the last four years of my life. After living in the same house for thirteen years, I suddenly became nomadic: four years, eight homes. Just as my world shifted when my grandmother died, my departure from each place has been a real and dramatic change. Home and the self have been the variables; my body, the constant.

I am interested in the corporal. I miss my grandmother’s bodily presence, and it is my own physical being that carries me from place to place. The act of sewing has become a way to preserve my body in order to ensure that I have something to pass on when I pass on. Craft evokes feelings of familiarity and homecoming; anatomical drawings produce the opposite: sterility, unfamiliarity, alienation from the physical self. By combining the two, I am creating nostalgia for the physical body.

Nick Wirtz' Show

2009-04-13T16:24:00.000-07:00

Artist Statement

I would posit that the comic, as a modern art form, shares notable historical similarities with film, the other narrative medium of the age. Both have struggled for legitimacy as an art form, but I believe that comics now lag behind. There are precious few works in the comic world that are recognized for their vision, and even fewer of these are known for their artists, and I do not believe that this is due to a lack of recognition, but a lack of vision.

But, I hope for a change in the medium. In the same way that image in film is as important as the dialogue, I believe that comics, as a visual narrative medium needs not a hierarchy of aspects, but a more thorough and even synthesis. I believe that the comic medium needs a shift towards Lazslo Moholy-Nagy’s concept of the Typophoto. He envisioned an experimental medium in which text and image were not only equally relevant to communication, but were inseparable and, in some cases, indistinguishable from each other. I strongly believe in the spirit of his proposal. In short, it is high time that the visual language of comics evolves.

I chose the mode of adaptation as an experiment in passing down a text. When one retells something, it is naturally transformed: tthere is another voice and another experience added to the narrative. Ray Bradbury’s work has always affected me on a very visual level, and it was this personal visual experience that I attempt to evoke in my retelling of his work. What I connect with are his worlds, his atmosphere, his pacing, and I want to pass on this experience. The text creates the narrative, and the images make the world.

Note: These are intended to be included in a collection of somewhere between half a dozen and a dozen short stories, making a rough chronology of humanity, from the late Nineteenth Century onward.

Images from "Kaleidoscope"

Pages from "The Scythe"

Installation Photos

Hannah's Senior Studio Show SEAM

2009-04-11T13:08:00.000-07:00

the first show!

2009-03-11T11:26:00.001-07:00

here are a couple of stills from me and meena's show. we did it!!

a show!

2009-03-02T14:42:00.000-08:00

Hi!

If any of you are in New York this Thursday (probably you will not be) you should go to this (where my fly calendar is currently located)--I won't be able to be there but if you go I would love to hear about what it is like. Maybe someone could go dressed like a locust?

The opening is from 6-8 on Thursday but the show will be up until March 29. The address 111 Front St. #228 in Brooklyn. The telephone number of the gallery is 212.255.6651 & the website is www.airgallery.org.

-Cara

Sarah and Nanette in Instanbul

2009-03-01T09:11:00.000-08:00

translationandconversion.com

Translation and Conversion:

A Meditation on the Everyday in Three Parts

Nanette Yannuzzi-Macias ● Sarah Schuster
İz Öztat ● Ian Warren ● Suat Ogut

with Amy Giovanna Rinaldi, Sarah Krugman, Hilary Zarabi Aazam.

March 3-20, 2009 Play Gallery
Istanbul, Turkey

The quotidian is that which binds the enormous to the infinitesimal,
the obliterated to the revered.

The central dilemma of Translation and Conversion: A Meditation of the Everyday in Three Parts, exists within the enactment of a series of performances that speak of our desire to celebrate the liminal, repetitious, and hypnotic actions of the quotidian as they unfold within the home. At the same time we're inviting viewers and participants to question why this historically idealized icon the home, a witness to generations of collective dreams and desires, has become the site of an increasingly stealthy and pervasive anxiety.

How does the notion of home—as the necessary architecture of human existence—reflect the social and political policies that shape it? Is it possible to empower this space by recognizing its unique qualities and therefore its potential? As the media funnels fear into every aspect of contemporary life, is there a space that we can consider private? Is home an action or intention? What we're discovering through this work is that the everyday, as seen through the lens of the quotidian, is not some notion of idyllic bliss but rather a powerful indicator of the health of a species—a barometer of its external skin.

2009-02-28T09:44:00.000-08:00

Hey all-
I am still searching for onion skins. So, please collect them the next time you cook, and leave a small pile in my studio.

Bat for Lashes. Whats a girl to do

2009-02-26T22:44:00.002-08:00

Love this video. Hope you enjoy it ( be patient).
Pipo

re: moca video

2009-02-26T22:44:00.001-08:00

>

i'm pretty sure this here is the first one to go up but there are tons of them now!

picture everyday

NYC's Valentine Weekend

2009-02-26T22:28:00.000-08:00

If you did not go to NY these were what you missed: good food and SST and Photo Lovefest

We saw this at Moca

2009-02-26T22:21:00.001-08:00

From the trip to Cleveland.

Pipo

I NEED YOUR BROKEN FURNITURE!!

2009-02-26T09:28:00.001-08:00

Hi Senior Studio 09!

If any of you have any broken wood furniture (like bed frames, chairs, dressers, desks, shelves etc...) please please let me know and ill pick it up from you. Im sure your basements are just full of things like that. SO PLEASE PLEASE LET ME TAKE IT OFF YOUR HANDS.

Love,
Cara