Welcome to the fifth edition of Assembly. We are a student-run online art journal, celebrating SUNY New Paltz students. To accomplish the giant task of producing an issue in a single semester, we self-select into teams that include editorial, communications, submissions, and graphic design. This year, Assembly is a client of SUNY New Paltz Design Lab. We are thrilled with this new collaboration.
This edition did not start with a theme, as our past editions have. We thought it might limit the range of artworks to be submitted. No surprise, we received the largest number of submissions ever. The artwork we received has blown us away and Assembly is proud to offer this platform for student artists. We have accepted photos, videos, paintings, and drawings, as well as metal, ceramic, wooden, and mixed-media sculptures from these artists, not to mention a smattering of written works. We are grateful for everyone who submitted their work and those who helped our team along the way.
The experiences we’ve gained in crafting this journal are invaluable to us in our various degrees and career paths ahead. We hope you will also take a look at our previous issues to see more of the work by New Paltz students and alumni. Assembly is ever-growing and we thank you, reader, for your interest in our journal.
—Mandy Fetterman | Creative Writing BA
Natalie Barrientos...20–21
Anna Bertrand...78–79
Heather Bissett...46, 127
Sophia Bon...22
Jody Borhani-D’Amico...7
Ben Bryant...98–99
Ripley Butterfield...63, 80–81
Jameison Caywood...72
Joseph Cartolano...100–101, 166–167
Abigail Comisky...104–105
Jackie Conley...70
Ellie Cromling...34
Alana Cummings...54–55
Leda Diaz del Valle...13
Minh Doan...47
Dumitru...134–135
Mandy Fetterman...12, 102, 109
Teisha Haff...165
Edgar Hartley...90–97
Adam Holland...66–67
Sebastian Hudson...128–129
Margot Hulme...45, 155
Gia Hunter Leigh...28–31
Mack Ingrahm...152–153, 156
Beth Itzla...33
Ella Joy...154
Ariana Kata...108
Emilie Kim...170–173
Ryan Kraus...124–125
Marvin A. LiTrenta...6, 164
Riley Lowndes...50–53
Grace Mahanna...144–145
Irena Marsalek...73
Emma McGrath...24–25
Kaydi McInerney...118–119
Joey McLaughlin...69
Tierney O’Brien...131
Allison O’Connor...168–169
Katie Ondris...26, 132
Jolie Orbeta...106
Ismene Roque...162
Delilah Rose...107
Elizabeth Ruggiero...35, 62
MJ Shepard-Nusbaum...103, 120, 122–123
Liz Shumek...64–65
Mell Sperling...83
Victoria Stiver...27
Mia Toledo-Ferraro...121
Caden Tyler...71, 82, 130
Grace Van Pelt...126, 146–147
Eva Wallace...8–11
Mars Weigley...44, 157
Caelen Williams...32, 68
Xindha Yaeger...163
Jordan Yarusso...74–77
Nia Zar...23
Ruby Zuckerman...148–151
Interviews
Mya Bailey...84–89
Joel Olzak & Vernon Byron...110–117
Lucifer Kern...136–143
Wren Kingsley...36–43
Brianna McQuade...14–19
Ankita Sunuwar...56–61
Bridget Vasquez...158–161
gazing somewhere
June 2024
marvin a. litrenta
Ebony pencil
24”x 30”
faith’s prison
evawallace
3/8/2024
brass and surgical steel
cold connection
1.75” x 1.25” x .25”
the death moth
evawallace 4/10/2024
Copper, nickel, brass, silver and ammonia patina
3.75” x 2.5” x .5”
The Death Moth, also known as the death’s-head hawkmoth, is an enchanting insect with a skull pattern inscribed on its back to ward off predators. Throughout history, these creatures have been used as symbols for the afterlife, death, and transformation. Only through death can new beginnings come and can one undergo transformation. The caterpillar must cocoon itself to become more beautiful than ever before. I believe that we can all learn from this lesson: To let a part of ourselves die is to make room for a new, even more fulfilling life.
mandyfetterman 2/23/2023
Charcoal 18’’ x 24’’
leda diaz delvalle
Charcoal/Conte Crayon
an interview with brianna mcquade
byheatherbissett
HB: Describe your culminating show or thesis work as a New Paltz student. What drove this work conceptually?
BM: My thesis work at New Paltz created a space for me to research humor and pain, and how those feelings influence the formation, development, and expression of self. I took a lot of primary forms of research methodologies to delve into the complex relationships between contrasting emotions tied to compulsive behaviors and intrusive thought patterns. Through examining my personal psychology and creating imagined worlds with recurring symbols, I employed levity as both a distraction and a narrative tool in my exhibition.
HB: Why did you use the material/ mediums you did?
BM: I use clay as a material because of its ability to freeze feelings in time, and further allowing these feelings to take up physical space in the world as an object. The process
itself reflects my relationship with control and risk—clay is constantly changing, moving between soft, moldable phases to something rigid and final. For me, it mirrors the way I process emotions, going from something formless to something I can grasp. The balance between unpredictability and the risk that comes with working with clay and control is key in my work, and it helps me dive deeper into the psychological themes I’m interested in, giving me a way to hold onto thoughts or feelings that might otherwise slip away from my memory.
HB: How did it feel to finish your thesis?
BM: I don’t know if I have the proper language to describe exactly how I felt upon finishing my thesis. Finishing my thesis was intense, both physically and emotionally. I had been so dedicated to creating a body of work that felt truly authentic to me, something
that spoke to everything I’d been researching and exploring for the past two years. When the exhibition finally happened, I felt this overwhelming mix of adrenaline and anxiety that ran its course through the opening and lingered for days after. I couldn’t really step back and feel proud because I was so caught up in how others might see the work. I had spent a year materializing these ideas, and the vulnerability of putting it all out there for people to interpret weighed on me a bit.
HB: What did you learn from the show and your final critique?
BM: The critique was nerve-wracking, but it also brought some really interesting perspectives, as I value my professors’ and cohort’s insights so much. I was so kneedeep in the work that it took hearing other people’s thoughts to really step back and see it with fresh eyes. I had been so consumed by the process that I couldn’t view the pieces from a distance anymore. The critique pushed me to think about my practice in new ways, which I am really grateful for. I feel very lucky to have had those challenging and thought provoking conversations.
HB: How was your summer? What has felt important to you during the past few months? (art or nonart related).
BM: This summer has been a time of transition for me, especially after finishing my MFA and moving back home from New Paltz. Adjusting to life outside of the academic environment has been both exciting and challenging. In terms of what’s felt important, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the intersection of my art practice and personal psychology—how my work is really a way for me to process emotions, anxiety, and the compulsive thoughts that drive a lot of my creative decisions. Even without a consistent studio space, I’ve been thinking about the ideas I explored in my thesis and how I want to continue that research.
At the same time, I’ve been focused on staying open to opportunities that will allow me to grow, whether in a gallery or assisting in teaching environments. It’s been a period of recalibration, trying to figure out how to maintain the momentum from my thesis while being flexible with whatever comes
next, even though that sometimes makes me feel really uncomfortable. That push and pull has been something I’ve been navigating all summer, and it’s definitely impacted how I’m thinking about my work moving forward.
HB: What are you doing now? Where do you work?
BM: I’ve been working as a studio tech at Suffolk Community College, which I really love because it keeps me involved with ceramics and the students’ enthusiasm. However, it’s been tough because I haven’t had as much time for my own studio practice. Balancing my job while navigating what comes next has definitely been on my mind. In addition to my role at Suffolk, I’ve also been working as an artist’s assistant. It has been an amazing experience. I’ve learned so many valuable things from working closely with a practicing artist, and I feel really grateful to be in an environment where I’m constantly learning. Between both positions, I’ve been able to expand my understanding of the art world from different perspectives, which has been really rewarding. It’s helping me stay motivated and feel like I’m still growing, even though I’m not in graduate school anymore.
HB: Has it been hard to find time for art after graduating?
BM: Even though it’s difficult, it doesn’t make me want to stop making work. Finding a way to see things completely through has been really important to me, and I think that’s one of my strengths—staying determined even when the conditions make my goal a challenging one. I’ve always been committed to pushing through and finding balance, and this experience has only made me more resourceful. I’ve learned to adapt, and I’m confident that, even though things feel hectic right now, I’ll keep making time for my own work.
HB: Does your thesis still feel relevant to your current artistic goals?
BM: Absolutely. My thesis still feels incredibly relevant to my current artistic goals. The themes
“...personalpsychology,humor,andthe relationshipbetween control andvulnerability...”
I explored—personal psychology, humor, and the relationship between control and vulnerability— are things I’m still thinking about and expanding on in my practice through odd objects and sculptures that feel nostalgic to me. Even though I’m not in an academic setting anymore, the research and ideas I developed during that time continue to drive the work I’m making now.
In fact, stepping away from the intensity of grad school has given me more space to consider how I can refine and expand on the work I made during my thesis. I still feel connected to those ideas, and they’ve become a foundation that I’m building on as I move forward.
HB: Any advice for current art students/students in your program?
BM: My biggest advice for current students is to stay open and curious throughout your time at New Paltz. The school and art facilities provide you with a really unique opportunity to dig deep into your work and explore ideas that excite you. School is the time to experiment, so don’t be afraid to take risks and push your practice in new directions—even if it feels uncomfortable. Making wrong decisions are just as helpful in learning as making right ones.
For me, being in the ceramics program taught me so much about timing, patience, working with people, and the value of sharing space and ideas. Embrace that, because relationships you make in your time will carry you far beyond your time in school. Something that’s really special about ceramics is the community. The ceramics studio at New Paltz is such a unique environment and a place that promotes connection and collaboration.
Lastly, I think that being a good studio mate is just as important as prioritizing your own work. Stay involved as much as you can, and take advantage of the interdisciplinary learning that happens in the studio—you’ll learn just as much from your classmates as you will from your own practice.
left hungry
natalie barrientos
May 8, 2024
Gouache and Colored Pencil
35” x 24”
Eat or be eaten. My piece depicts feminism as a complex charcuterie board, filled with different fruits and animals that hold symbolic meaning to the piece. The center of the drawing features a swan’s head, illustrating how femininity is viewed with a sense of elegance and grace, with a pomegranate used to portray the messiness of the feminine experience. While working your way outside the center of the board, the animals symbolize regrowth, fertility, protection, and the loss of innocence that comes with aging. A charcuterie board is a presentation to eat off of, such as how I view exhibiting and demeaning my feminine experiences.
stiff curtain sophiabon
2023
Anthotype, Textile, Found and collected objects
29” x 29” x 4”
turbulence
A Stewardess
stumbling across
oases abroad i cross the globe
Finding solace in new worlds daily
Mine to absorb Yours to exude. i sponge myself across the simple scope of the unfamiliar i soak it in you become part of me.
None i could see from close
But out of the small ovular windows across the dingy airplane preparing to head back without lingering an extra moment to get acquainted with our New Home physically Temporary yet permanent in Heart.
nina
zar
i loved the turbulence on my flights away going back to god knows where next
We take off the Plane shakes Hushing the Whimpering Mouths huddling in masses turning away from their home for a new one elsewhere.
We shake and jolt almost as if the Motherland Herself is seizing us back “I
Won’t Wither. You Best Not Forget Me. I Am You. And We Are Forever Now.”
The plane shakes i feel Her encompassing.
birth control blues
emmamcgrath
December 2024
Ceramic, watercolor, metal earring hoop
38” x 17” x 10”
This sculpture serves as a self-portrait, representing my internal struggle with the emotional and physical toll of being on a birth control pill that negatively impacted my well-being. Through the figure’s posture, I express a profound sense of defeat, exhaustion and disconnect from my own body. The choice of blue - a color long associated with sadness and isolation - and a matte surface, reinforces these feelings of withdrawal and emotional strain. This piece embodies my frustration with women’s reproductive care, and it speaks to the broader societal issues surrounding the lack of understanding, empathy, and adequate support for women who are facing the overwhelming decisions related to their reproductive health. With this sculpture, I aim to provoke reflection on the burdens placed on and carried by many women, whose struggles with reproductive health and care are often minimized or misunderstood.
brain fog
katie ondris
I see a wall in front of me. It stands high as the sky, tall enough to laugh at mountains, and I now understand why God destroyed Babel. On the other side of this wall is what I have grown to love so dearly. It is what I am, who I am, and suddenly, impossibly, I cannot reach it.
My memory of it is fading and being replaced by the stones in front of me. My memory of myself is fading.
The wall turns youth into elderly. I sweat blood and tears trying to ignore it. I try to speak. I try to think. But, standing in the face of endless dread, of doom tall enough to shadow the world, how can I be expected to even breathe? I know more and more of blockades and less and less of language.
Emanating from the wall is exhaustion. A misty haze that bogs down every cell in my body, turning me heavy, turning me corpse-like. I become numb until I become nothing.
Above me, there is a window. It used to be easy to jump and climb to its ledge. It would show me abundance and life. I would see the world glisten and I would paint new brush strokes onto the canvas, making it mine. I could open the window and run through every field, climb every tree and carve my initials on the highest branch.
The wall has grown taller now, though, or I have grown smaller. The window is out of reach. The window mocks me, because while my fingertips brush its sill, while I am so close to the vision it yields, I cannot hoist myself up. I cannot see.
Worst of all, the world can see me. The world sits by the window every second of every day, looking down upon me, seeing a zombie where an angel once lay. I wonder what would be less tragic: for the world to recognize me, to see that I have faded, or for it to never know that I once was full.
victoria stiver
March 2024 Mixed
07/18/2024
anger to power
giahunterleigh
Photography
8” x 10.5”
giahunterleigh
07/18/2024
Photography 8” x 10.5”
that setting sun
caelenwilliams
Laughter in my eyes, I sit back, smug. I’ve won again, of course.
He admits defeat, shaking his head with a smile.
Our other friend snorted, ignoring he tried to take over, before he realized the game was already won.
In this memory, I cannot recall if it was night or day. It is bright regardless; Painted, at nostalgia’s direction.
It is a year and a half later. I don’t speak either’s name. My hair is blue; I am afraid of the sound of drones.
I am playing another game, a different one,
with a different group of friends. “What is your greatest fear?” I stare at the card, beginning to write “fascism”
Before changing my answer to “regret,”
A far more palatable response.
I push down the ever-lurking thought, I think you knew me at a good time.
Had I known I would age ten years in the span of less than two, I would’ve played every game of chess when it was requested.
My worries back then seem so pleasant now.
In the dark, I worry I’m getting used to being silenced.
9/1/2024
Screenprint on paper 9.5” x 11.5”
the subconcious mind
elizabethruggiero
04/10/2024
Oil Paint and Molding paste 14” x 15”
an interview with wren kingsley
byripleybutterfield
RB: Why did you choose New Paltz? How did you use your time as a student there?
WK: I came to New Paltz after taking a gap year living abroad in Denmark. As the pandemic started, I knew I didn’t want to go to college more than a few hours from home. My sister was a senior at New Paltz, so it was an opportunity to pursue an affordable education, not too far away, while being in the same pod as my sister.
I didn’t know what I wanted to study. I knew that I wanted to learn a lot, and I wanted to find a way to help change the world. I had been steeped in climate change narratives, and I didn’t know the path I was going to take or what difference I would be able to make, but I knew I was always going to be an artist. New Paltz was the best art school in the SUNY system, so it checked most of the boxes.
I was a Bachelor of Science in Visual Arts (BSVA) student, with an anthropology minor. At first I was an environmental studies minor,
but those classes were very geography-based. It was a lot of mapping and earth science, not sustainability, and what I wanted was an education about people and culture and sustainability inside of a social context.
I read Braiding Sweetgrass in one of my anthropology classes, and learned about environmental anthropology, and that was great.
RB: How was the BSVA experience for you?
WK: Somewhat disjointed. I was an internal transfer into the program because I was an undecided freshman, so I couldn’t start my Foundations classes until my sophomore year. That put me two years ahead of my peers in those classes, because most of them were freshmen coming straight out of high school. A lot of them lived on campus. I found the lack of a “home” at school was really taxing.
But I really enjoyed how I was able to specialize in an area. I took a
lot of woodworking classes, and woodworking does not fall into any of the other art majors. I also took printmaking classes often. I was able to dabble in a lot of studios, which was important to me.
So: no formalized home, but I was finding my own home in the woodshop and the printmaking studio, and later in the sculpture studio. Then, gearing up for the BSVA capstone in your last semester, you’re told: “Here are your colleagues in the Visual Arts program!” It’s like, what? Who are these people? All
of my colleagues are the people I’ve been doing work with in my studios.
In other parts of the school, like in my anthropology classes, you’re expected to know how to write papers in Chicago Style and APA. A lot of visual arts students haven’t written essays since high school! The lens I had going into classes where I’m generally the only art student was refreshing. I was always being stimulated by different environments on campus. It was so important to my growth as an artist who is particularly interested in integrating creative thinking in applied fields.
RB: How did you put together your BSVA show and your honors thesis, and were they linked?
WK: In order to have a really phenomenal show as a BSVA capstone, you need to be producing quality work throughout your whole time in college. You can’t expect to do it one semester, you can’t expect to do it in two semesters. During my last semester I barely spent any time making artwork because I was doing so many other things. I didn’t have room for
more studio classes. Throughout my studies I spent a lot of time thinking, what is the work I want to do? It was really important to me to have a cohesive body of work that represents what I’m interested in, represents my style, and the themes I like working around— which are broad.
I took Media Interventions with Professor Jill Parisi, which offered a very sculptural approach to printmaking. My guiding question for that class was “How do different materials interact with each other?” One project, my little hanging beasties, each have a wood turned body connected to handmade abaca paper using reclaimed copper wire. They are squid-like, plantlike objects that hang in space in a very animated way. That work
pulled from my sustainability education and my concerns about ocean life and toxicity. It was an art object that was capable of having a conversation with the audience.
I’m really grateful to have had the opportunity to pursue a thesis project in the Honors Program. Such a myriad of things all kind of converged in my honors thesis project. I had been volunteering for years doing garbage and recycling pickup and coordinating at the Finger Lakes GrassRoots Festival of Music and Dance, I had been a sustainability ambassador, and I happened to attend this conference in Syracuse in the fall, where I learned about this stewardship program. Through that program at Syracuse University Center for Sustainable Community Solutions, I received the education I needed to bring to school classrooms. For my thesis, I worked to design an outreach program to a group of New Paltz Middle School students for the Climate Club. I designed four modules on sustainable materials management outreach. We talked about recycling and composting, we took a tour of the transfer station, and we wrote letters to
representatives about the Better Bottle Bill, and the Climate Change Superfund Act, and the Climate Change Education Bill. Running parallel to all of this was the Eddy. I wasn’t taking any studio classes my senior year so I had zero space on campus for my work. I’m very grateful that Professors Emily Puthoff and Michael Asbill invited me to be an artist-in-residence for Eddy in the sculpture program. That was a blessing from the universe. I spent a lot of my time there working on my honors thesis project, designing modules and outreach material. For the BSVA capstone you need to give an artist presentation, and I feel like my thesis presentation was my artist presentation. That work I was doing as an education coordinator was the work. That is me as an artist: going into the community and uplifting and empowering people to get creative and curious, to show up and ask questions. I’m really grateful that Michael gave me that time and space, especially in the Off The Wall class, to really lean into that side of myself as an artist. Socially engaged art is a real thing. I’m not avoiding the act of making.
The student voice is so important to make any change inside of this institution, and I was a really loud voice. And once I’m gone I’m gone.
It’s been awesome to step away, truthfully. Now I get to live my life, and I don’t have to live the life of every person on the SUNY New Paltz campus. I can slow down and return to center. But recently I’ve been reengaging with some of the work to build out sustainability education. I feel very called to that front.
RB: How was your summer? What did you do?
WK: It was my second year doing waste management for the Finger Lakes GrassRoots Festival of Music and Dance, and I was doing more coordinating this year, which was really cool. I applied to a job opening for the Tompkins County Department of Recycling and Materials Management and got that job in August, so I’ve been doing that since August. It was a really great summer. And now I’ve got a full time job!
RB: Would you talk a bit about what you’re doing there?
WK: I am an assistant recycling Specialist for Tompkins County. I like to say that I am a diversion specialist, so not boots on the ground picking up garbage or managing recycling operations, but designing and curating programs, and doing a lot of grant work on food waste reduction. There’s about nine people in the office, and many of them have been there for at least ten years, so I’m working with experts in the field of waste management. We are involved in outreach to restaurants and local farms, meeting people where they’re at to help them find ways to reduce the waste that they are creating. Eventually I’ll get to do in-classroom work with kids in schools, and to design my own programs. It’s a full-time job with full benefits.
Coming out of a visual arts program, I am so lucky to be qualified for this job. The only reason I’m qualified is because of the work I did for my honors thesis project. And the two years of work at the GrassRoots festival, progressing from volunteering to coordinating
and managing the program. That, and my outreach with middle schoolers, had almost nothing to do with my SUNY coursework.
Waste management is one of those fields that I never really thought to enter as an artist. Who knew I’d be coming out of art school saying, “I want to work at the garbage center?” But there’s something just so real about garbage. The first year at GrassRoots may have planted that seed of how different materials communicate with each other. Imagine having a bag full of recycling, and it’s mostly recyclables - clean bottles and cans and stuff like that – that somebody has thrown a whole boat of fries and ketchup into. Being with the ketchup on those recyclables, you realize that those materials do not enjoy each other. How funny is that? We humans are the ones who choose to put things together. Take my sweater. I think it’s wool, but what if it were wool and polyester? Once you blend fibers like that, if it’s a wool or biodegradable fiber, when you add a synthetic you’re destroying its capacity to compost. That is a serious act, to destroy the compostability of an object. I think it’s sinful, borderline sinful.
We have created the objects in our environment. We keep forcing these materials to live together, despite whether they are happy doing so or can live a long healthy life.
RB: What is your art practice right now? What does it entail?
WK: I have a group of friends who are all local to Ithaca. We all happen to be young women who grew up together, went our separate ways, and have been pursuing art. Now we’re all living in Ithaca, with full-time jobs, and wanting to commit to artistic practices, but what does that look like? My friend and I recently hosted a printmaking workshop at my house for 12 people. We all have backgrounds in different kinds of skills, so it’s grounded in skillshare. I have oodles and oodles of yarn, and all I want to do is share that because there’s too much. We had a felt-making workshop and used the yarn as a base to felt on top of. It’s using our resources to build up a community. And it’s been very fulfilling. We generally meet on a weeknight from six to eight, and we’ll often do it in a public space.
Someone is leading the workshop, but none of us are like “workshop leaders.” We are just artists, and people who are crafting together. We’ve been talking about formalizing it, and about what the future of our little collective is. We’re looking at buying land together in years to come, and thinking about how we want to show up in the world. I don’t like Instagram as an artist. I don’t like being on the internet in that way, and I’m not interested in making work to sell it to people. I don’t want my work to be “consumed,” I want it to build an environment, so that the art is really the act of coming together and sharing creative energy, resources and knowledge.
We call ourselves “Caravan.” We’re still workshopping the name a bit, but that’s how we refer to ourselves. It’s mobile, we’re moving around and we don’t have a home but we show up in different places. We’re asking ourselves, “What is the role of an artist in
creating the world?” If we want to create an ecosystem–“eco” meaning economy, “eco” meaning ecology–what can we do to come together and create value? Doing events at the local bookstore, or using our library, which has a great maker space. We do lots of mutual aid and it’s really fun to be a part of. Everyone involved is very clear about when we are at capacity, as full-time workers, and what we are capable of doing. There’s a lot of practice in being a human being that we get to do together.
I’d also add that as an artist I’m at a point where I’m throwing everything at a wall, and seeing what sticks, you know?
marsweigley
Spring 2024
Welded Steel
13” x 10” x 8”
untitled
margothulme
2024
Pen on paper, wool yarn
3”x 5”
indoctrinated heatherbissett
I was born a sin
Or so that’s what I’ve been told
Rather, what has been indoctrinated into me
God is love
Until who you love
Is someone you can’t
Perhaps they think there is a circle
A circle of God’s love
I can love anyone
In the circle
The second I stepped out
I lost his love
But gained my own
Or so that is what I have been told
Bamboo is a highly regarded plant in Vietnam, known for growing in clusters that form dense, layered structures, symbolizing complexity and depth. This imagery parallels history, with its many narratives unfolding in intricate layers over time. Bamboo also embodies the resilience and courage of the Vietnamese people, having played a significant role in folk tales and serving as a tool of
bamboo
minh doan
2023
Acrylic, Pencil, Sharpie, charcoal, collage, and photo transfer 22”x 30”
defense against invaders. Historically, it was used to construct walls, spears, and sharp stakes. Notably, bamboo was the primary weapon of Thánh Gióng, a legendary folk hero. I like to think that bamboo passes its memories to the next generation, sharing its stories across time—a vision I imagine unfolding in this painting.
literary lamp
mandy fetterman
5/10/2023
Wood, Ink
5’’ x 5’’ x 10’’
This is a laser-cut lamp full of quotes from my favorite literary works, with the added phrase “original art.” This is obviously a reference to making art based on other people’s creative works and calling it my own. Even the letters of the “original art” are taken directly from the quotes of better literary artists, the positive letters created by cutting out the negative shapes of the quotes.
garden mandala
riley
lowndes
2024 Micron pen on watercolor paper 9” x 12”
riley lowndes
2024 Watercolor, Micron pen, on watercolor paper 9” x 12”
weaver mandala
death’s gift
riley
lowndes
2024 Watercolor, Micron pen, on watercolor paper
5” x 7”
cardinals and wild raspberries
riley lowndes
2024 Watercolor, Mircon pen on paper 12”x 16”
7/27/2023
the dancer
alanacummings
8/28/2023
Digital Image
an interview with ankita sunuwar bydumitru
Ankita Sunuwar is a New Paltz alum with a remarkable story to tell. She was born and raised in Kathmandu, Nepal, and graduated from a Nepalese university before attending New Paltz. Her work brings ancient Nepali techniques into the contemporary sphere, creating works where modern artistic ideas exist in harmony with traditional themes and imagery.
D: How were you introduced to art? What inspired you to study and make art?
AS: I am born and raised in Nepal, where art is everywhere. The gods we worship are art, and the temples, architecture, and nature surrounding us are filled with beauty and creativity. As a child, I began creating my own toys by cutting and painting paper, bringing my imagination to life. That’s how it all started for me. Later, I joined the art club in school, which gave me the space and encouragement to explore my creativity further.
D: What was the first medium you began to work in?
AS: I started with watercolor as my
first medium. Later, I explored tattooing and began learning Paubha using gouache. During university, I expanded my skills to include oil painting and digital art as well.
D: What themes and messages do your artwork often explore?
AS: My artwork is strongly connected to Nepalese culture. In my paintings, I use Paubha, a traditional ancient Nepali art style. When I create digital characters, they are also inspired by people and stories from the Nepalese community.
D: Do you consider your work to be political?
AS: Yes, I believe art is always political. It reflects society, culture, and personal beliefs, and can challenge or support the way we see the world. My work, rooted in Nepalese traditions, also carries messages about identity, culture, and history, which makes it political in its own way.
D: What role does your faith play in your art?
AS: My faith plays a significant role in my art. It deeply influences the themes, especially through using traditional Nepalese practices like Paubha motifs, which
is often linked to spirituality and the depiction of deities. My faith helps guide the messages I want to share, connecting my work to cultural and spiritual beliefs.
D: Do you have an audience in mind when you’re working? If so, what audience are you addressing with your art?
AS: Honestly, my work is for anyone who is open to it. I don’t create with a specific audience in mind, but I hope to reach people who appreciate culture, tradition, and the stories behind the art.
D: Has life and education in America changed your art in any way?
AS: Yes, life and education in America have changed my art in many ways. Being exposed to diverse cultures and artistic styles has broadened my understanding of creativity. I’ve learned to appreciate the different ways people express themselves and their experiences. This exposure allows me to blend my roots with new influences, enriching my work. The multicultural environment here inspires me to explore themes of identity and community, helping me grow as an artist and express my ideas in fresh, meaningful ways.
D: Describe the Paubha art style.
How does the process differ from the average painting?
AS: Paubha art is an ancient Nepali painting, used to depict deities, mandalas, and religious scenes from Hinduism and Buddhism. It is highly detailed, follows strict iconographic rules, and uses natural pigments like gold for divine figures. The artwork is flat, symbolic, and spiritual.
D: Do you have any original characters you like to return to often? If so, what are their stories?
AS: I’d say, for digital. I really enjoyed working on the game Zambala with BlackBox animation studio; it featured a wide range of characters, including a yeti and a snake goddess. Each of them had unique stories and abilities, making the project exciting and dynamic to develop. I loved the working
environment there; everyone was very motivating. I often think back to how much I loved the place, people and creating those mythological and mystical figures.
D: What was your proudest moment as an artist?
AS: I was proud to do my MFA show, which was full of Nepalese paintings that showcased the tradition and culture of my heritage. I built everything myself for the show, from the artwork to the presentation, and it was a moment where I felt truly connected to my roots as an artist.
D: Describe your culminating show or thesis work as a New Paltz student. What drove this work conceptually? Why did you use the mediums you did?
AS: Showcasing Nepalese art was my goal, and that’s one of the reasons I came to the US. I believe Nepalese art, particularly paubha, deserves recognition. Conceptually, blending paubha with contemporary styles was a real challenge, especially because no one locally really knew about it. I wanted to build a temple space for my MFA show, filled with paintings,
to immerse the audience in the experience of Nepalese art. I even built the gajur, which is the top of the temple, to complete the structure. This setup was a key part of conveying the spiritual and cultural significance of the artwork.
D: What did you learn about your own artistic practice through the making of your MFA thesis?
AS: Through the process of creating my MFA thesis, I learned how deeply connected I am to my cultural roots and how important it is for me to share that with others. Blending traditional Nepalese paubha with contemporary art pushed me to rethink how I approach storytelling through art. It also taught me patience and precision, as I was working within strict traditional guidelines while trying to innovate. The experience showed me that my practice is not just about creating visuals—it’s about preserving and promoting heritage.
D: Having graduated, what are your goals? Where would you like to take your art?
AS: Having graduated, my goals are to continue promoting Nepalese art, particularly paubha, on a larger scale. I’d like to bring more awareness to this tradition through exhibitions, collaborations, and perhaps even educational workshops. I also want to expand my tattooing career, incorporating elements of paubha into my designs. Ultimately, I aim to fuse traditional techniques with contemporary media, reaching global audiences while staying connected to my roots.
D: Do you have any advice for people studying in the programs you’ve completed?
AS: Absolutely! My advice for those studying in similar programs
is to stay true to your vision and embrace your unique perspective, even if it feels different from the mainstream. Collaboration with peers and faculty can lead to new ideas and approaches, so don’t hesitate to reach out. If you’re rooted in a traditional practice, find ways to innovate while respecting those traditions; this balance can create exciting work. Be open to feedback, but also trust your instincts; it’s essential to remain connected to your artistic voice. Stay curious and explore new mediums and techniques, as curiosity fuels creativity. Finally, document your process in a journal or portfolio to reflect on your progress and articulate your artistic journey. And please reach out to professors from different departments. I got a lot of help from Professor Michael Asbill from the sculpture program for my thesis. I am forever grateful for that! Above all, enjoy the process of learning and creating!
elizabethruggiero 10/02/2023
Paint 18” x 12”
the saint of south brooklyn
ripleybutterfield
The Saint of South Brooklyn jostled her foot where my cheek lay resting broke our Venus in two hoops and crosses I knelt a while longer my knees well studded with pebbles I dug those pebbles in my knees (once standing all turned around looking at outlines of weeds and dove underbellies) It happened! the imprints peep It happened!
11/2019
adam holland
Oak tree stump, steel rebar, plaster
3’ x 4’
how much love i contain
caelenwilliams
2/27/2023
Digital
joeymclaughlin
Digital art seasons
Sept 2024
love mice! jackieconley
I have been fighting a battle with ongoing chronic illness for most of my life now. Recently, I had a flare up that left me mostly bedridden for two days straight, barely able to move my joints, only able to lay and feel the pain coursing through my nerves. While I was laying in bed, I could see myself in my mind’s eye, twisted and immobile like a chalk outlined body.
Each color within this painting holds a different meaning for my pain. Red is the pain I feel in my bones and joints, yellow is muscles and organs, and orange is all pain related to my mental illness.
smile through the pain
cadentyler
4/28/2024
8” x 10”
Acrylic
May 2023
Mixed media on canvas
36” x 42”
how did you know you were a god
irena marsalek
i knew it when she let me touch her and my bones did not snap - there were only the swallows perched over the horizon, poised for migration, and the psalm of fear they whispered while i laid my hand atop her chest, listening to the world pulse in tandem to our trepidation. still, i held on, and my back did not break with burden, so we kept pretending we were loving without a black hole forming inside us.
heritage flash
jordanyarusso 4/19/2024
Ceramics
9” x 10 1/2”
jordanyarusso
3/2/2024
Ceramic
4 1/2” x 3 1/4”
western brew
support and growth
anna bertrand
2024
24” x 30”
stopping time
anna bertrand
2024
24” x 30”
Reconstructed, Pierced is a modular steel sculpture of an acorn with about the size and scope of a large human breast. The piece consists of a detached acorn cap and nut. Both are vessel-like forms. The acorn is smooth and shiny, with a barbell piercing adorning its nubby bottom.
My work memorializes breasts lost to cancer by unearthing our associations with them. Nursing and motherhood are supported by the reproductive significance of acorns to trees, while sexuality and deviance are connoted by the pierced “nipple.” Viewers touch and rotate the sculpture as they investigate it, imparting the thin steel with body heat. Between ourselves, the “natural world,” and manmade objects, there are tensions and intimacies to be felt.
reconstructed, pierced ripleybutterfield
2024 steel
8” x 6”
cadentyler
6/18/2024
Watercolor, Acrylic Pen
9” x 6”
death spiral
fruits of gender
mellsperling
In this piece I used fruit as a symbolic medium to explore my gender. Some of the fruits in this piece are meant to represent how I was raised female and still feel feminine at some times. Some of those fruits include the papaya, strawberry and peach. The other fruits that I included were more to represent myself and how I don’t always see myself as female. Those fruits are mainly the lime and orange slices.
6” x 6” x 13”
an interview with mya bailey
bymandyfetterman
MF: So what was the main focus of your senior year? How did it feel to accomplish your academic goals?
MB: My time at New Paltz was a bit rushed. I was on campus for two years, and I graduated in two and a half years. That in itself was an accomplishment. When I realized that I was in my final classes, it felt unreal. I don’t want to say it was like this pressure coming off my shoulders, but it felt like it in the moment. After graduating and turning in final papers, after like a
week, I was like the pressure is on now. This is just the beginning of it. There’s definitely more I want to do academically. I knew this was just the first step into that. So I would say “surreal” is a culminating word for what would be considered my senior year.
MF: What was one big thing you learned while in college?
MB: I kind of hate how accurate it is, but I guess the biggest thing is opportunities really do come from who you know, and networking is
really important. I feel like that is an invaluable experience I got through work-study positions at New Paltz and just really trying to immerse myself into the campus and the town alike. It also really came in handy when working with Assembly - knowing who to talk to, knowing who to turn to. Just having a straight network as much as you can in college is so, so essential. It definitely will follow you into a professional life which I don’t think I was expecting.
MF: How was your summer after you graduated?
MB: It was awesome. I took a good bit of time off. I guess it kind of felt like a year off. My last semester was remote, so I feel I had a year-long summer, in a way. A lot of it was preparing for graduate school; I’m getting my master’s right now in decorative arts, design history, and material culture at Bard Graduate Center so it was preparing materials for that, trying to get up on reading, trying to make sure that I knew what I was walking into. I don’t feel like
feel like there’s ever really a sound way to do that, but attempting is always a good way to start. I made sure I had time to travel. I took a road trip once a month for four months and just got anywhere I could. I feel like there is nothing more valuable than a first-hand experience.
MF: What has felt important to you during the last few months? It can be art-related or not.
Definitely community. I feel and I’ve been told that I have very emotional responses to things and I feel like that shows a lot in artistic endeavors I’ve partaken in, and it shows extensively in my academic career, and what I choose to write about, what I choose to pursue research-wise. It’s cultivating community, grounding community, because it’s just such an insane time right now, and it’s always been an insane time, but I feel like to be a young adult in this moment—to be anyone with any kind of consciousness of this moment—I feel like it is absurd not to be absolutely aware and contributing to the well-being and the lives of those around you as much as you possibly can. This, as well as just constantly centering the will of others and trying to be there and be a part of something beyond yourself.
MF: What are you doing now? Where do you work?
MB: I have a handful of jobs. That is something I also did in New Paltz; I always had three or four jobs going on. I just finished doing private tours for the Museum of Art and Design at Columbus Circle where there is the Sonja Clark We Are Each Other exhibition. That was a really good opportunity to talk about these intersecting thoughts and places around black identities, around hair, around textiles, and all of these having the ability to hold memory and hold power. I’ve had a long-term position as a research and editorial assistant for the black novelist Lesa Cline-Ransome, and she focuses on discovering and displaying stories about untold black histories.
“...thereisnothing morevaluable than first-handexperience.”
I love working for her. I met her when I was working at the Dorsky at New Paltz, and that was really a moment of knowing the right people, and being at the right place at the right time. My most steady job would be visitor experience at Cooper Hewitt at the Smithsonian Museum of Design, another great place just to network, to talk to anyone and everyone that comes up to you; it doesn’t matter what capacity. I just recently started a position as a grant writer for institutional development at our Graduate Center, which is where I’m studying.
MF: What kind of art do you do? Or is history more your thing?
MB: History and writing have definitely become central to what I do and central to my identity. I started at New Paltz not sure if I wanted to pursue a BFA or if I wanted to pursue making art, which is definitely something I did more so in high school and then definitely still in my spare time while in undergrad. I was doing a lot of mixed media around what it feels like and what it looks like to grow up in an Afro-Latina household. Some
of that work has been featured in the third issue of Assembly. I also have some artwork published in Yale’s art and art history journal called Asterisk*. It’s something I would like to revisit. A lot of what I was making visually and artistically has transferred into my research interests now and a lot of the work I aim to write now is still trying to humanize and showcase these experiences that often go untold or are told as a monolith. You know, the black experience is going to look and feel different to every individual, what happens and who perceives it. So it’s really the same thing but it kind of transferred in mediums.
MF: How much of this have you done after you graduated? I know some of it was while you were still in undergrad.
MB: [Art making] was kind of like a hard stop after graduating because you’re losing studio spaces,
materials, losing time. The second you’re out of school it’s like there’s a shock factor of, like, there’s no sturdy schedule anymore, I don’t need to be anywhere at a specific time, especially when you’re coming out of it you’re looking for a job now. If it wasn’t a priority of what’s going to sustain me and further me—at least professionally—that’s where my mind was at immediately coming out of school. It got set to the side and it’s something I would absolutely love to pick up again when I feel like I’m in a more stable position to do so. I think I’m past the point of wanting to make art to understand and visualize what I was feeling, which is why I went into it. I feel like being in graduate school now and being able to emotionally approach my academic career has kind of lent itself to taking the pressure off of what I was seeking through visual art. I think I would really like to enjoy making just for the sake of making now, so maybe one day soon, but it hasn’t been anything too present in my life at the moment.
MF: I know you talked about all the jobs you have, but how does your degree specifically contribute to your everyday life?
MB: I love that I did art history. I was really nervous to go into it at first, but it lent to so many transferable skills of how to write for a specific audience, how to discuss and read parts of history with a specific lens because I don’t see history as authoritative. There’s always some bias in how it’s written and how it’s presented and that’s really lent itself to me, like exploring things through a multitude of lenses, being able to talk to different audiences, being able to engage in the same narrative but with a different perspective each time, and you come to a different conclusion and a different community each time you do that. I feel absolutely thrilled in my choice of art history and I was worried about it being too broad when I went to it and now I’m in this master’s
program that is even more broad than just studying art history and you start to realize all of it is interconnected in some way. It really just depends on your personal drive and what you’re passionate about and being able to prove that you have honed and mastered in a professional role the skills that can present themselves in a specific degree.
In Welsh mythology, Annwn represents the land of the dead and is detailed in the first branch of the Welsh myth cycle, the Mabinogian. We have died countless times in our many countless reincarnations. It is nothing new to us, yet many fear it as though it were an ultimate ending. Impermanence is the nature of the samsaric existence we experience day to day. Each moment dies and passes away, giving rise to a similar new experience dictated by the energies of past moments of thinking. Nothing new and everything new.
gates of annwn, state II
dreamwalk
obscuration
the path to rainbow body
edgarhartley 2024
Collagraph embossment with hand-applied pigments
45” x 17.5”
In Tibetan Buddhism the concept of the Rainbow Body speaks to the end process of de-obscuring thinking until the five wisdom lights shine brightly and unimpeded by conceptual elaborations. This image intimates the shining through of those spontaneously present wisdom lights: mirror-like wisdom, equanimity wisdom, the wisdom to accomplish for the benefit of all beings, wisdom of the essence of the phenomenal world, and the wisdom of discriminating awareness. Rainbow Body is associated with complete enlightenment and ensuing miraculous activities for the benefit of all beings.
Historical recreations stand as a powerful way to display a reimagining of the beauty of the past. Exekias was a potter from ancient Greece renowned for his detailed amphoras. This vessel takes inspiration from this talented ancient potter, as well as the ability for an amphora to tell a story. Amphoras told a variety of stories, from gods and demigods conquering their foes to everyday life of ancient Greece.
drilled
mandyfetterman
Whereas Noé was dragged away from me
Whereas I told Mom I’d make good choices
Whereas you were coming at 7 and then 8 and then 10 and then 12
Whereas it was a fucking water bottle
Whereas I fell out of my seat because you were trying to outspeed our saviors
Whereas everyone needed the bathroom, but they refused
Whereas we sang 99 bottles of beer on the wall in the patrol van
Whereas drilled into my eyes the flashes of phone flashlights and helicopter search lights
Whereas drilled into my ears I still feel terror when I hear that girl scream SHAME!
Whereas drilled into my heart is the number 133
star fish
mjshepard-nusbaum
2024
Digital Collage on Kozo 11”x 17”
“Kick Face!” was a big passion project for me and derived from a phrase I would constantly say as a kid as I attempted to kick tall adults in the face. It was a goofy memory that I wanted to work into a project that had all the visual elements of pent up aggression being released and the relief it can cause when finally letting it go. But
the motion of the piece is where it all ties in, bringing you to laugher as you remember to not take it all too seriously, but validating the process of all human emotions regardless.
egg
delilah rose
daylight screams body of dreams fear sucked off fuck off i'm born anew from walls cracked through brain and body attune feminal melody to be my boon
hibiscus shells fall from my felled cocoon from film of white caged within sight and coming to mind this thought of mine to stay asleep swallowed down dark deep deprived of me cursed to wait-eternal in shallow sea
a bluebell tomb is all I see
Febuary 2024
Cut paper
18” x 24”
ariana kata
110 Joel’s “Economic Pressure”
an interview with joel olzak and vernon byron
bydumitru
On September 13, 2022, workers employed by the Dia art foundation voted overwhelmingly in favor of unionization and won their first contract in 2024 with the United Auto Workers union. Two people involved with this success are SUNY New Paltz graduates Joel Olzak and Vernon Byron. Joel Olzak graduated in 2020 with a major in sculpture, and Vernon Byron is studying for their master’s in digital design and fabrication. Joel was employed as a gallery attendant at the museum, and Vernon works in security. Here they share their perspectives and experiences with the unionization process and offer words of encouragement to readers interested in careers in the arts field who feel a strong sense of solidarity.
D: Why is a union at Dia important?
We think it’s important to have a union everywhere. All workers are entitled to and have the right to be in a union that fights for their rights in the workplace. Actually, Dia was somewhat late to be unionized. MoMA has been unionized since the late 90s, and I think they had some collective action even earlier than that. The Met’s been a union for even longer. The Whitney, Guggenheim, and Brooklyn Museum all started the process in recent years, just ahead of Dia.
“Naked Truth,” a public art installation by Vernon which “explores what lies beyond the real estate market and the continuous acquisition of value which are neighborhoods”
D: What problems does the Dia, and the museum institution, have in its treatment of its workers?
Dia largely has the same problem as every other cultural institution funded by billionaires: low pay. Seriously; one of the board members is a Samsung heir, worth two-anda-half billion dollars. Another is
one of the Murdochs. Dia has an endowment comparable to a small college. There is money, but the priority isn’t the people working there; it’s following their mission statement of commissioning and acquiring more art. (which isn’t a problem, as long as you’re first ensuring that the people who are critical to carrying out that mission can live comfortably). The institution itself basically ignited an entire cycle of gentrification in Beacon, Newburgh, and the surrounding area, so that should be the priority.
D: How did the Covid-19 pandemic impact your treatment as employees?
Vern: From my perspective working as security, they added a bunch of responsibilities to my role which previously hadn’t been a part of it, with no change in compensation up until a certain point. My hours also changed drastically, and I had to take it or leave it. The pandemic gave us some leverage, since they needed us for more responsibilities, but it also took away leverage, as we were stuck within these new parameters. I also had to return earlier than other employees even though the museum was still closed for a period, which added a lot of complications to my preexisting role.
Joel: I will say, to be fair to Dia; from what I heard they were very responsible to their workers at the very beginning of the pandem-
ic, furloughing workers with pay, while the museums were closed. I started working at Dia in early 2021, so the museum had been reopened, and mask mandates were still very real and enforced. It made visitors harder to handle, and a few openly hostile. It didn’t seem like management cared that much about it, although our security team took it seriously, obviously. Of course, it’s always going to be more difficult to be a hospitality worker when you and the visitors can’t see each other’s faces. It was a strange time.
“Solidarityisempathy, butit’sempathywith alayerofactionbuilt into it.”
D: What was the moment in your own life when you realized organizing is important?
Vern: At least since 2015 there had been the thought of unionizing, but for some reason we had it in our heads that we wouldn’t be able to do so because of some supposed legal barrier, but that was a misinformed idea. So even several years before the pandemic, it was important. My experiences in the Hudson Valley had involved organizing, whether it be community-based projects or for a period sharing a studio space with several folks, which required us to self-organize. I think organizing just ends up becoming a necessity when you work with other people.
Joel: I feel like I’ve always kind of known. I grew up in a very pro-labor household and read Howard Zinn’s “A People’s History of The United States” when I was maybe 14 or 15. So when I was approached to join the union organizing committee I was immediately on board. I think in the conversations I started having with all my coworkers I started to really understand the importance of organizing. The excitement and energy there was really satisfying.
D: What does “solidarity” mean to you?
Solidarity is empathy, but it’s em-
pathy with a layer of action built into it. It’s not quite enough to feel what people are feeling, you have to be there, shoulder-to-shoulder with them, trying to work out the situation.
D: What are the benefits of organizing amongst coworkers as opposed to petitioning through the existing power structure?
Well, there are basically no benefits to petitioning change solo. As soon as at least two people are bargaining together, they have legally protected rights, so you can’t legally be fired for it, and if you are, the National Labor Relations Board will investigate and if they find it was illegal you’ll get your job back with back pay. And of course, the more people organize, the more leverage you have. Under a union contract, you have conditions that are stipulated. Management can’t change those; can’t cut your pay or benefits, which they can all do normally. Without the organizing, there wasn’t any real
D: How does the process of unionization work?
Essentially people started talking about unionizing and formed an organizing committee. They reached out to Local 2110 for help with the process, and that’s when things became a bit more formalized. Of course, this was all in secret at first, until we started doing a temperature check--talking to all our coworkers to get an idea of how they felt about a union. Eventually, once we were confident that a supermajority would likely vote for a union, we started collecting signatures. You need at least 50% of people at a workplace to sign that they’d approve of a union before you can contact the NLRB and ask to hold an election. Of course, you want much more than 50%, and I think we were closer to 70% of workers that signed. Then the voting process, which was quick by comparison. The final vote was 101 for, 1 or maybe 2 against. But even after winning the union it was an equally long uphill battle to win a contract. We were quite close to going on strike towards the end.
D: What sort of difficulties did you face?
There were a few. Other than the Dia itself, one of the main difficulties was the people who were interested in the union, but only for the purposes of counter-organizing a completely unrelated union that they thought would be better. We got past that and won a contract, but the pangs of individualism were the biggest difficulty, both from within and from the institution- because the institution basically functions as an individual in this process.
D: What impact did the local community have on the process? Did the process bring you together with new people?
There was a lot of support from the local communities of Beacon and Newburgh, since they could see the need for the role of a union. As for meeting new people, with Dia there are so many colleagues spread across Beacon, Chelsea, and the sites out west (the caretakers of the Spiral Jetty and the Lightning Field for instance) that we never would have met if not for the organizing committee.
D: Moving forwards, what are the union’s goals?
Getting better benefits and pay, more transparency in the policies that the administration makes, and encouraging the higher-ups to better understand how the galleries function from a gallery attendant’s perspective, so they can make better informed curatorial choices.
D: How has this experience changed you? In which way?
Vern: It showed me the power of collective action, which I had seen in my experiences working in Newburgh and other places, but it’s more evident when it’s concentrated in a specific workplace where you’re all experiencing similar troubles. Even though we were all siloed into our departments in the organization, organizing dissolved these barriers, some of which we never realized we were placing ourselves.
Joel: I better appreciate the power of unions. I think the whole process, being a very social thing, was really important for that strange, coming-out-of-quarantine time during the pandemic. It felt possible to make connections with new people again.
D: What advice do you have for professionals in the art world looking to advocate for their rights as a worker? Which fields do you think need unionization that don’t have it?
All art fields need unionization, because the art world is so unregulated-- even more so than any other securities or investments. I’ve seen, at least for certain industries such as art handling, that the unions have a huge impact on wages, allowing people to make a thriving wage that lets them live comfortably even in metropolitan areas. In education, unions can be even stronger; at the college level unions are especially important with such a disparity in wages and working conditions.
D: Does your own practice as an artist intersect with your union efforts and activism?
Vern: A lot of the projects I do involve collective action, and I’ve tried my best to make it worker positive. In my biggest projects I have made sure that I can offer a stipend or some sort of financial compensation to the people I work with, since at this point that is the sincerest form of return; if you’re using people’s time and creativity they should be compensated.
Joel: It certainly does now. My art has always been about labor, in a way. But it’s mostly been about
the labor of craft, of individual efforts. Now I’m starting to incorporate labor union narratives into my work, collectivist ideas. I produced a piece for the staff show at Dia earlier this year, which was just appropriated text on a leaflet; I wanted them taken and distributed. (Economic Pressure, see photo.) It was also site reactive, reacting to a Bruce Nauman piece (Body Pressure, 1974), that used
to sit about 1,000 feet from where the staff show was. Rather than the piece, I’m critiquing the institution that displays the piece, by using his format; a paper printout that was given away to visitors. The site needed another narrative, showing that the people working in the museum are as important as the artworks shown there.
Vernon’s vinyl mural collage for the ADS Warehouse in Newburgh
line on body
kaydimcinerney
December 2023
Metal- brass, copper
5” x 4” x 4”
geographic tongue
mia toledo-ferraro
October 2023
Brass, copper, thread, steel pin wire
3” x 3.75”
decomposition I
mj shepard-nusbaum
Digital print on mulberry paper 9” x 13”
city of lights gracevanpelt
x 4”
earth’s embrace
heatherbissett
2023
4” x 6”
As a functional potter, my work is deeply rooted in a reverence for the earth and the simple beauty found in nature. Each piece I create is a reflection of the intimate connection between clay and the natural world—a connection that I believe to be grounding. I portray this through natural earth-toned glazes.
Through my pottery, I hope to offer a moment of reflection, inviting people to appreciate the beauty of everyday objects.
Clay, glaze
Digital Drawing
sebastian hudson
2023
20” x 15”
This is my first-ever collage piece, that I started originally to practice doing collage. However, the background I chose -- a chapter from an old history book called “The Practice Of Capturing Wives”-- inspired me to create something from my past that was beautiful out of something that was tragic. The silhouette of my wedding dress is shaped by pieces of my actual divorce papers, and the bouquet is crafted from wedding photos. I am a strong believer in beauty coming from sadness, and I hope this piece showcases that.
cadentyler
August 2024
Mixed media collage
21” x 15”
the practice of capturing a wife
Combining my desire to make clothes and my desire to make armor, my steel corset was born. “Corsette” is about femininity, defense, and the body. Much like a corset made of fabric, the steel shapes my body in a way that reflects the modern beauty standards. It constricts my movement, and it acts as armor as a solid structure that protects my torso from outside forces.
Corsets were worn by women to shape the body and yet my piece is partly designed based on armor traditionally worn by men. The piece reflects gender roles that we’ve seen in history and still see today through playfulness and juxtaposition.
May 2024
Steel and ribbon
Height- 10.5”
tierneyo’brien
memory
katie ondris
My mother sits beside me as we stare at the mess of ricotta and eggplant in front of us. We do not speak. Speaking would be too overwhelming. Her dish is half-eaten, sad, and mine is nigh untouched. The texture repulses me. I scrape the eggplant around, tomato sauce making the white plate look bloody, the cheese imbuing a fleshy character to the food. My mother turns; I do not look at her. I do not need to, for I already know her eyes are boring into mine. I feel it underneath my skin. It turns me into a beaten dog, pathetic, tail between its legs. My mother is no longer my mother. My mother is nowhere near comfort.
“You don’t like it?”
I finally meet her eyes, brown seeming red amidst rage. I go over all of my possible responses and deliberate between all of the values I had been taught. I see it simplistically—
honesty is the best policy stands contradictory to treat people with kindness. But I am a blunt child, just as I am a blunt woman. Just as I am a blunt man. Just as I am a blunt little girl.
So I shake my head in shame and she snatches the plate away from me.
“I worked all day to make you happy,” she sneers. “You wanted this. You wanted this. You asked for this. And you tell me you don’t like it. Ungrateful little bitch.”
I mutter an apology. She leaves the table. She does not return and I do not move. *
Ten years later, my mother asks me what I want to eat. Respectfully, almost timidly, I ask, “Can I please have eggplant parmigiana?”
She nods, smiles, and agrees. Today the cheese does not invoke fleshiness, but fluffiness. The sauce is not blood, but a blurred painting of poppies in
the field of herbed breadcrumbs that coat the vegetable. My mother looks at me and I feel real. I feel grown although I am young. I feel parent although I am child.
And I wonder why my mother has reduced herself. I wonder why my mother exists in extremes, only as either wolf or rabbit, only as either beast or Bambi.
She prepares the dish that I feel guilty for requesting, and I enjoy every bite, and I wonder why my mother could never be a mother. I wonder why my mother could never be real.
I wish I could tell her that she is allowed to be abundant. I wish I could tell her that I love her, that I give her permission to abandon
motherhood. I would abandon daughterhood for her. I was never was a child, anyway.
I want to see my mother run through meadows like a wild horse. I want to see her burst through clouds and fly free, a dove above the skies, uninhibited by shame. Although I am a hypocrite, asking her for the thing that I do not want, I do not need her to cook for me. I do not want to burden her anymore.
Still, I wonder why I ever felt like a burden at all.
the traveling harvester and the place to carry
x 34”
an interview with lucifer kern
byripleybutterfield
RB: Why did you choose New Paltz? How did you use your time as a student there?
LK: I was a sculpture major at New Paltz and completed my Bachelor of Fine Arts there. I’m not going back for my master’s unless somebody else pays for it!
A lot of my work focused on preservation of trans and queer bodies. I used wax as the primary vessel for that work. I learned all of the wax stuff I know from
the lovely sculpture studio technician, Kelly McGrath. That’s encaustic sculpture; encaustic is sort of a process of painting with wax.
I have a really funny story about why I chose New Paltz. I remember going to open house with my mother, and being so overwhelmed and stressed out that I was crying in the quad outside of the Fine Arts Building. She was like, “Why did we even come here if you’re not going to look at the studios?” and I was like “Okay…” So we went and toured around. I remember going into the sculpture studio–and I know people think it’s very asylum-esque, very hospital-like, a little scary, but I have been in those sorts of environments before and the smells and everything are really familiar to me. I thought: This is what I want to do! I want to use tools!
“Idoalittlebitofpoetry,andfindingthose words can inform the materials I use and the feelingthatIwant to evoke.”
RB: How was your experience in the sculpture program, generally?
LK: I would say that my experience was very, very terrific. I have been a person who does not necessarily assimilate to different situations easily, but I like to think I’m pretty easy to get along with, and I like to make friends, so, it was easy in that regard. It’s been great to grow alongside my professors. I always
felt like it was a place where I could do whatever the heck I wanted without judgment. They might not understand what I was doing, but they were kind of like: “If that’s the direction you want to run, we’ll help you to the best of our abilities.” When I met my mentor, Kelly McGrath, I found a medium I really enjoy working with, which is mold making overall.
I also appreciated that we were trained in technical skills. Emily [Puthoff] and Michael [Asbill] were great about making sure we had
the foundational knowledge that sculptors need to develop their work. Opening us to the basics of mold making, woodworking, and welding was really beneficial because you get a little taste of everything, which gives you some confidence that, with this knowledge, you can figure out how to do pretty much whatever you want to.
RB: Describe the process of developing your thesis show.
LK: The way Michael encouraged us to do our research was to look at our past work, and see where the thrulines are. I call them “proclivities.” Like, I have a proclivity to using vaguely religious imagery. I think about the beautiful interior decorations of religion: with that much power came that much beautiful art, which required immense technical skill. Think of a Catholic illuminated manuscript; fancy gems and metal, beautiful lettering. All of that is super high technical stuff, but it’s such a beautiful art object. A lot of my work was about being queer, and it was combined with that visual language.
Eventually I was trying to figure out what materials I wanted to use. I was playing with metal, playing with leather, playing with wood. I think it was Richard Serra who did this list of verbs like “to push,” “to pull,” “to lift,” and did a bunch of works on those. I picked out juicy
little words that I liked, because I do a little bit of poetry, and finding those words can inform the materials I use and the feeling that I want to evoke. I figured out that I really like doing tiny, specific work. Not necessarily the most neat and tidy, but intricate, tedious work. I had this tiny piece of wax that was cast from a mold of a Barbie doll’s thigh, and I started taking gold thread and a hot wax tool and slowly pressing it in. I started doing all kinds of lines and designs. I remember when Michael and Emily came to me, I was like, this is all I have, I’ve been playing with wax all week. He picked up the little piece I made and said, “I think there’s something here!” That is pretty much what my thesis ended up being.
RB: Can you describe your Spring 2024 thesis show at the Dorsky Museum of Art, made of each other, for those who weren’t fortunate enough to see it?
LK: It started from this statue called Sleeping Hermaphroditus based on Greek myth. The figure has what we consider male genitalia as well as breasts, and the face of a woman. The bottom half, torso, and hips point one way, while the top half is facing another direction. It’s kind of a weird position, but from one side you see one sex, and on the other side you see the other sex. I just thought it was really neat, and interesting how that statue has changed context like a motherfucker over the years.
I think finding an entry point, or a familiar language, is really important in sculpture. Everybody is familiar with Greek marble statues and what they look like. It’s an easy access point which a lot of people recognize as sculpture. I made body casts of some trans people in my community using alginate, which is the stuff they make your teeth molds out of at the dentist. I painted beeswax on the inside of the mold. I didn’t create one cast of an entire person, but did lots of different people, using different body parts so that I could make a complete sculpture in the shape of Sleeping Hermaphroditus. Then, I pressed gold thread into it in all the places where there would be body hair. There was leg hair, butt hair, armpit hair, pubic hair, and head hair. It was very stylized, beautiful body hair, and the figure lay on a pillow made from satiny, shiny fabric. It was set on
a plinth made to look like marble with keyed out sections at the bottom. Essentially, it was supposed to look like a monument.
RB: How was your summer?
LK: Over the summer, I was working for someone in a field that I have some background in but not a ton. I gave him the context that I didn’t have a ton of experience, but that I was willing to learn and do the work. There were so many times when I would ask a clarifying question, and he would be upset that I didn’t know. To make a long story short, I would try to find solutions for things I didn’t know how to do in a way that I could understand how to do it. I
would do my best to work around it and ultimately to get the job done. By the end of this period of employment, it was obvious that if I didn’t do it his exact perfect way, it wasn’t going to work, even if the result was the same. He told me one time that I didn’t want to try or to persevere. That was kind of insulting to me.
Keep your expectations realistic. I mean, shoot high, you need to be uncomfortable to grow. I’m a believer in that. But I also believe that the first time you try something you should not expect to do it perfectly. Expect a certain degree of trial and error.
RB: Would you share a bit about your current job?
LK: Currently, I work at Workshop Art Fabrication in Kingston. We make contemporary bronze sculptures for various artists. I got that job after I quit the other job because I knew I deserved better.
I was searching NYFA and other sites, and I applied for this opening. I had done bronze casting before at a summer camp on a much smaller scale, and I interviewed and was hired. I work in the
finishing department currently, so I’m mostly grinding down welds. The large sculptures aren’t made in just one piece–we just did one that is 26 feet tall– and when things get assembled like that, my job is to make it look like the welds aren’t there. It’s interesting camouflage work.
The power of the resume is very important. Other people’s social and artistic credit means a lot, if they will vouch for you.
Artists have a lot more transferable skills than you imagine. You need to have the confidence of a straight white man. Even if you don’t know about the field, as long as you want to learn and you care about doing a good job, people will recognize that. There’s always things like studio assistantships (granted, nine times out of ten they just want somebody to talk to) but there’s all kinds of different jobs. I see a lot of merit in getting an art education. I also fully believe in having an unrelated job and having a studio practice on the side.
RB: What does art look like for you post-grad?
LK: A fun thing about your thesis is that you will figure out why you did certain things after you are done, and after you have written your paper. I believe every work has a thruline. I was thinking about how I might progress my work or make iterations of it. I thought about our dear professor Michael’s work, to preserve the ash tree, and realized, oh shoot! What are some properties of wax? Well, it’s a preservative. What other things are preservatives, or will last a very long time? I eventually got to plastic, and that’s where my work is going.
I’ve been collecting Monster High dolls recently—we all have our ways of coping after school. When dolls are packaged in boxes, they have a plastic setting behind them. There’s a part that their head fits into, and it kind of looks like a nimbus, which is the halo in religious paintings. Plastic is going to be around forever, so I was thinking about plastic material culture and how I don’t mind that my work in wax might disappear into the earth. I was kind of interested in the shape of the plastic, and I’m
collecting and thinking about materials that last forever. What objects do we keep around forever? Statues, family heirlooms, a good pair of boots; I’m thinking about how objects endure time. I haven’t made anything yet, because I don’t have a studio right now.
RB: Any advice for current sculpture students or art majors?
LK: There is a reason you’re making art; you’re not just doing it because you like to do it. As an artist, you have a certain little creature that lives inside your chest that will crawl its way out if you don’t let it out gently. There has to be something inside of you. Follow that urge or gumption. There’s always a reason you do something.
Flowers and plant material, natural dye, eco printing 8” x 10”
October 2023
Digital photography
rubyzuckerman
rubyzuckerman
October 2023
Digital photography
tailspun
mackingraham
May 2024
Oil paint on stretched canvas 24” x 36”
summer time
Maybe there’s some truth in the summertime. Some truth in the child that becomes the drip drop of the ice cream on the pavement.
Maybe there’s some truth in the rocking cradle of tempo–with slow summer days and harmonic summer nights.
Maybe there’s some truth in the accompaniment; the fragments of jazz and rag. The chorus of baby cries and textured attention.
Maybe there’s some truth in the words of the wind. The connection of opera and ease, doubt and symphonic harmonies.
And I wonder if the up in time has become what living grows as. One of these mornings I’ll run and run and run, being sure to tie a little string around my pinkie. For if I start to lift off I would hope a large tree takes notice, and wraps its large branches onto the ball of twine. Keeping me anchored.
Yes, maybe there’s some truth in the summertime. ellajoy
untitled margothulme 2024 Stoneware fired 9” x 5” x 3”
mackingraham
May 2023
x 42”
40° 16’ 13.3” N
81°14’ 27.1” W
marsweigley
Spring 2024
Patinated copper and bronze riveted together.
6” x 2” x .5”
In crafting this brooch, I write a love letter to the place that shaped me. Camp was my sanctuary, a haven where I forged lifelong friendships and discovered my true self. This piece embodies that safe space, designed to be carried with me wherever I go. The metallic topographical map reflects the landscape of my childhood, imprinted with natural materials and friendship bracelets that symbolize the bonds formed there. Each rivet marks a meaningful location, anchoring me to the memories and connections that continue to inspire my journey. This brooch is a tribute to resilience, belonging, and the enduring spirit of home.
an interview with bridget vasquez
byjoeymclaughlin
JM: Tell us about your work.
BV: I assemble amalgamations of the body and nature, intertwined with references to relationships and daily life. Animalistic forms, their historical and cultural contexts aid my world-building. Influenced by SFX makeup and opposing textures, I emphasize movement, narrative, the stretch and pull of flesh, paired with saturated hues and bold graphics. Contorting and fusing bodily elements within the frame, I project new sentient beings and nurture their immense hybridized mass. I create stimulating biomes to house these creatures and support the shifting pressures of their bodies. Extracting from familiar connections, my work embodies topics of denial, grief, transformation, and parasitic tendencies.
JM: What was the drive for your concept and its thesis?
BV: As an artist, I liked the idea of working on large canvases and moving my body around. It got my body physically active in a way that isn’t far off from exercise, ya know? I love working big, a lot of times running out of room on the canvas, and it got me thinking of parasites and how they take over vessels and large hosts through all the line movements. That’s how it kinda felt! It then got me thinking of parasitic creatures and monsters and the works so I made my thesis about my own horrifying creations taking over large canvases. I used Adobe Illustrator and acrylic paints to combine my use of color theory to make my work more psychedelic to project away from just being flat out creepy. My thesis then began to grow into this Frankenstein’s monster-esque collection of designs that would fit right into nightmare territory and horror.
JM: How did it feel to finish your thesis? What did you learn from the show and your final critique?
BV: I remember when I first finished, it felt rather more melancholic than I was expecting. You would think it would feel triumphant or at least have a sense of pride -- which, don’t get me wrong, was there, but there was much more exhaustion. It was hard to feel celebratory just because there was a constant feeling that… it was over, you know? I remember coming home tired and yet it in
equal parts didn’t even feel like the end. You know how when you end school yet you’re in that mindset of waking up early? That was me, but it took a while to make it feel like an intrinsic reward and have it catch up to the extrinsic. But if you’re asking me now, I am of course very proud yet a bit sad that my life as a college student has come to an end. But then again, I’m also rather happy since it’s a sign that I’ve gained experience and grew up from when I first started.
In retrospect, I didn’t like myself or my work during my time as a student (as most do), but with time those feelings go away and you learn to just embrace yourself. Strengths will create flaws, hence why no artist out there is perfect, but every artist has their own perfect and it was my job to accept it and have the world see it for itself (sometimes, it’s not about seeing the world but having the world see you), and that’s what makes it beautiful.
JM: How was your summer? What has felt important to you during the past few months? What are you doing now? Where do you work?
BV: After I graduated this year, I did side hustles of work for myself and planned on going to markets for the upcoming holidays so I could sell. I went back on Google to look for jobs over the summer. I was fortunate enough to find two! One of them is a studio job I take
on the weekdays, in particular, scenic painting. As for the weekends, I actually knew someone who works at a museum. I was able to network with the guy and eventually found myself working as an assistant on the weekends! It doesn’t feel so much like a job, but at least it’s a job, ya know, so I can always be on the grind for work. So basically my weekly schedule consists of no days off with one job taking over my weekdays and the other I have on weekends, which I honestly don’t mind, I know you said the job market is tough, like it must be for a lot of people. It wasn’t just hard work, I was very
“...haveagoodgroup offriendstosupport you.”
lucky to get in, and every day since I’ve been grateful to keep my jobs and have two of them since August as much as I want a day off. But believe it or not, the few times I get a day off, I sometimes feel like I just end up wasting it or that it feels so slow. Once I started to have no free time, I felt a sense of flow to consistently be on edge and still find opportunities for more jobs. It’s like a never ending game to make life a bit more interesting.
JM: Any advice for current art students or painting BFAs?
BV: I believe that before or after you graduate, every student should have 3 things: a website, a portfolio, and a name on social media. That way, anyone knows where to find you and can quickly identify the type of work you have. They don’t really need to ask all these questions when they meet you; it saves you and the employer a lot of time that they certainly appreciate. I have 2 jobs related to my life of work, and both of which I looked up via Google as opposed to job sites such as Indeed and Linkedin.
BV: I was very persistent during my time as a student and after, and I believe that is a key word for success in this line of work. Some days may seem bleak and pointless as an artist but you cannot expect success to come right out of the gate. You have to keep trying through networking and con-
stantly applying even if you keep failing. Network, network, network. Not just finding the right people to help you move forward your career, but also having a good group of friends that will support you. There are days where you have self-doubt but more days where your friends doubt you back or someone out there finds your work more incredible than even you thought. You have to remember all those all-nighters (that I’m sure all studio artists are familiar with) as motivation that you deserve a spot in the art world and anyone of any background will love what you do. So no matter how tired you get after a long day’s work on projects,
essays, and whatever job you may have, save at least a little bit of energy for socializing. You never know who out there can help you out. It’s all just a matter of finding them in the first place, so as much as you want to stay in bed on your time off to watch a show or have a bit of time to yourself, you also have to be wary of spending it towards more work that progresses into where you go.
fish
xindhayaeger
Spring 2024
Ceramic 12” x 4” x 4”
August 2024
Photoshop 13” x 8”
marvin a.litrenta
teisha haff 2024 Oil on canvas 30” x 24”
temple of dendur cabinet
josephcartolano
December 2023
Ash and walnut wood
24” x 10” x 8”
The ethical issues related to museums have always left a lasting impact on my opinion of these spaces. Museums should be a place where people are able to learn about different cultures, ideas, and art. But, museums can also be a place that puts pride in colonialism, stealing, and misuse of sacred objects. I have always loved ancient Egypt. As a kid, going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and seeing the stunning artifacts from the New Kingdom and the gold idols from a pharaoh’s tomb brought me such excitement. However, it is now difficult to look back on a lot of these memories fondly knowing how these artifacts were stolen from burial places that were meant to lay untouched.
As many countries call out for artifacts to return from museums such as the Met and the British Museum, it is important to hold value in pieces that have been gifted from one country to another. When Egypt donated the Temple of Dendur to the United States in 1965, it served as a cornerstone of the Egyptian exhibit at the Met. Now, it serves as a cornerstone for what museums could be, a place where countries collaborate and share art to create productive spaces of learning. That is why the Temple of Dendur is my favorite exhibit at the Met and serves as the cornerstone piece in my cabinet honoring this beautiful exchange of art.
untitled
allison o’connor
September 2024
Darkroom print (Left) 8” x 10”, (Right) 8” x 9”
무엇을 먹을까요 ?
무엇을,
(what should we, what should we eat?)
emilie kim
2024
22” x 38” x 23”
White stoneware, underglaze, glaze, Egyptian paste, acrylic paint, disposable chopsticks, coffee stirrers, kitchen twine, parchment paper, LED lights
Being bicultural means to navigate multicultural experiences, walking on the line of societal conformity and individuality. My conflicting experiences prompt me to question my Korean-American heritage, exploring its bittersweetness.
Drawing from the landscape of my body and the reservoirs of my memory, I sculpt layers of my identity, utilizing contrasting forms, colors, and materials. The layers construct the intertwining narratives of my existence, represented through physical and imagined environments. I explore the passages within my mind, gathering fragments of the past, finding comfort in familiar views and allowing vulnerability in openings.
As I build vast and miniature worlds primarily with clay, I unravel the sometimes appreciative, at other times critical, intricacies of identity and the challenges of authenticity as a Korean-American by translating the intangible through the tangible. Fragile and durable, malleable and stubborn, clay speaks of my identity, forever changed and forever changing.
Submissions
Heather Bissett
Margot Hulme
Dumitru Mahoney
Mars Weigley
Caelen Williams
Editorial
Heather Bissett
Ripley Butterfield
Mandy Fetterman
Dumitru Mahoney
Design
Charlie Barnes
Miles Mastropietro
Joey McLaughlin
Xindha Yaeger
Communications
Sabrina O’Shea
Grace Van Pelt
For three years now, Assembly has been produced in the context of a unique seminar course. The journal is an experiment in that we follow a non-hierarchical production model with an emphasis on collaborative, discourse-driven decision making. To be honest, it can get a little messy. Each member of an issue’s cohort self-selects into one of four teams: Communication, Editorial, Submissions, and Design. The Communication crew handles Instagram, manages email correspondence, and updates our Hawksite. Editorial reviews all written content related to the journal. Each member of the Editorial staff also conducts at least one interview. The Submissions team is tasked with the massive job of organizing the call for works and gathering submissions for our group vetting process. This year, Assembly teamed up with SUNY New Paltz Design Lab to generate our posters, freshen up the website, and lay out the journal.
The vetting process takes at least three weeks and is surprisingly arduous. Each member of the Assembly team gets a vote on every submission. The selected works are then printed and carefully arranged for the Design team. When the journal reaches completion, SUNY New Paltz students have carried every aspect of production.
The Assembly crew for Issue #5 would like to thank the previous Art Department Chair Thomas Albrecht for his unwavering support, and the current Art Department Chair Lynn Batchelder. We are also enormously grateful for the support of Jeni Mokren, the Dean of Fine and Performing Arts. We want to thank Associate Professor Amy Papaelias for all her incredible work with Design Lab. Lindsay Lennon in the Fine and Performing Arts Dean’s Office prepared our submissions platform, and took on the huge task of proofreading the current issue.
Michael Asbill, Assembly Advisor and Assistant Professor of Sculpture
Back cover imagery by Gia Hunter Leigh
Anger to Power 2024
Photography 8” x 10.5”
Front cover imagery
Letterpress Wood Type Print
Inside cover imagery by Marvin A. LiTrenta
Gazing Somewhere 2024
Ebony pencil 24” x 30”
The fifth Issue of Assembly Art Journal was designed by Charlie Barnes, BFA Graphic Design, and Xindha Yaeger, BFA Graphic Design. Created in InDesign, type set in Roslindale Display Condensed Bold and ITC Franklin Gothic Std Book.
