Spangles, gullies, trenches at Highgate Bathing Ponds

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Spangles, gullies, trenches at Highgate Bathing Ponds



Ode on a Grecian Holiday Sophie Jung Sir You Will Doubtless Be Astonished + We Need To Talk About Neil Laura Morrison Calvin & Carmel Calvin Laing Up for the Down Stroke Ciarรกn ร Dochartaigh


Ode on a Grecian Holiday Sophie Jung


Look I was in Greece, right And I was in this villa, right And the villa was pretty smart, right Built by this French Designer from the 60s Only he built it 2 years ago Only he started 7 years ago Can I do sth with those numbers? Later He came round In his 83rd year (that’s those numbers plus one put next to one another. Just saying) And he’s as hot as a dog they say He brought this essay by Stravinsky on musical composition and read it to us as we lunched In French And we all nodded. And his voice was sonor And he now dates his Thai masseuse Who does not speak a word of anything anyone understands Except the Thai. But there are none on the island. Touch is something, though. And that helps. Since he had an accident at one point in his life. I can tell you he’s elegant, his corset is made out of calf leather from Venice. The Villa looks out onto the sea. The sea has been there forever. It’s clear and it has a lot of funny fish. I’d have seen them if I’d gone swimming but I stuck to the pool. I don’t trust salt. It fools you. You go: Oh, that looks blue and refreshing and then it’s savoury. Savoury is not my idea of refreshing. Minty would be. Eucalyptus. Something like that. He also brought his dog Lilliput. Though it’s not particularly small. It’s very dirty, which conceptually I liked amidst the drapings of Hermes towels. But which I didn’t like practically. I still don’t. I stroke her, cos she’s too cute not to touch. Then I wash my hands cos she is filthy and she smells.


Then I stroke her again, cos she followed me to the sink. Then I smell the stink – And so it goes And so are hot days spent in the villa. And by the villa As the dog follows you to any nearby place, too. For example the village party Where all they serve is meat. On a stick, mate. And they say there is traditional music. The servants. And it turns out synthesisers are the new traditional. And I love them, so that’s good. We wait and we wait and it turns out we wait for the village to come back from church. And I wish I’d known that cos I’m a culturally curious one. And I’d have gone to immerse myself, too. Be the spirit with us all. But then they all came and the sweet sweaty place filled up. It was outdoors. But Greece is hot. And I waited and waited for the dancing to start, because what’s a traditional Greek party without the dance. And old and young, as they say, danced. Suddenly. In One Big Circle. If only it was that easy, I thought to myself. And then there was this perfect girl with pink jeans and a white crop top. Everybody danced but that wasn’t the point cos she was the point. EVERYBODY’s point. For example the guy-next-to-us-with-his-middle-aged-wife-looking-grumpy-for-a-reason’s. His smartphone did a diagonal move down and around every time the pink bum swayed our way. Za Za Zoom And his wife’s face dropped. No wonder I thought No wonder we all thought. But I wasn’t angry at the girl. She was a goddess. And that’s what I came to Greece for, the real thing. They come from Mount Parnassus to dance. What a hip movement, I’m telling you. Like the waves of the sea. But sweet so as to confirm my initial aquatic assumption.


Proves me right. Served them, right. And the next day the servant told us there were many many fights Between couples Between men Over her. Under her breath. But of course. How could there not have been. And one day we went on a yacht. And the servant went fishing and came back with something we weren’t allowed to eat. But we didn’t know. And we ate it and it was delicious. And we were saving some for the next day. And the police never came even though his mate joked Saying they’d come to ask for him. And the servant grew pale. And we all laughed. And he did, too, eventually. But he didn’t look happy. And one day I went down to the cliffs and posed for photographs in my Monet swim suit. And I sang love on the rocks so long and so loud till the photographer got the joke And laughed a little. But I wore red lipstick so I couldn’t laugh cos it’d have gone on my teeth. I smiled. Knowingly. The lyrics could have meant something could not have. And then he went skinny dipping while I couldn’t get off the rock and I had to sit and watch. I don’t mind. Although I wasn’t particularly invested, either. There were many bees. And other things. It was buzzing 100% It was buzzing 100%, 100% of the time. Not one quiet second. That’s Greece. That’s what they don’t tell you at the travel agents. But then I booked online. And online they tell you a lot of things.


So much so that you can’t listen anymore. But then the book I read was a novel set in Greece, from the 60s. You probably know it. And it said the landscape is intoxicating. And I nodded, as I understood what he meant. But I was not affected to that degree. The 60s were a different time, mate. I thought to myself. Like who would have ever thought I’d be reading you on a Kindle. The thing with eBooks is you never get how far you’ve got. Every page is like the next. Is the next and one before. Index index sameness calls it magnetic potential And then someone on the island told me that The Magus is a really long book with hundreds and hundreds of pages. And as my days were not like my device Meaning I can actually see their stack get thinner n thinner I knew I wasn’t gonna finish it in the few days I had left. So I gave up and started drawing instead. For what it’s worth. You’ve got to say thank you to people when they let you stay in their house. But my monetary possessions are limited. You may be fooled into thinking I lie As I own a Kindle. But that was one foolish afternoon and Argos. So I drew pictures for the owners. But then messed them up, sadly. So I gave them the only photo of me drawing on the outdoor sofa in a straw hat And a long flowing dress Drinking lemonade. That conveys the feeling accurately. Lemon is savoury. Lemon is sweet. Lemon is imported from other places. Greenhouses. The island is the greenest island in Greece and imports are taxed. And yet. The world is One Big Mystery sometimes. That conveys the feeling accurately. And the men played backgammon a lot.


I didn’t because I can’t. Left and right and right and left, it’s all so confusing. I tried. One has to try everything once. Like the cheese pie. Like the ouzo. Like the moussaka The protected species that are a delicacy. Like the lifestyle of the wealthy. I tried and failed a little. I think it wasn’t noticeable.


Sir You Will Doubtless Be Astonished + We Need To Talk About Neil Laura Morrison


+ Sir,--You will doubtlessly be astonished at receiving a letter from a person unknown to you, who is about to ask a favour from you; but from the sad condition in which I am placed, I am lost if some honourable person will not lend me succour: I wonder if it would be possible to get your autograph ?I am a huge fan of your art. I collect artists autographs and it would be wonderful to add yours to my collection. That is the reason of my addressing you, of whom I have heard so much that I cannot for a moment hesitate to confide all my affairs to your kindness. In this cruel situation, having mention of you by a relation of my master’s [...] I beg to know if I cannot, through your aid, obtain the casket in question. I could then supply my immediate necessities and pay my counsel, who dictates this, and assures me that by some presents, I could extricate myself from this affair. Thank you so much, Neil Wheatley, 2 Common View, Main Street, Grove, OXON, OX12 7JQ, United Kingdom ++ Thanks for your email which I found extremely interesting and boring at the same time (but that’s just me).. It makes me nervous. Is this a TRAP? I hope not, Neil. :) I sympathise with your plight. Robert Mugabe is indeed scum, and I for one would like to stab that bastard 419 times in the back! My apologies for my language Neil, Mr. Mugabe makes me feel this way. I’m not a famous artist. How did you become such a huge fan? What are the logistics of getting my autograph to you? What would I use? Pen, paper, the royal mail?


+++ I don’t mean to make you nervous, I am just a collector. I have collected artists autographs for over 20 years, graduate, famous in every disciplineHaving contacted our family attorney this morning and told him your full willingness to assist my family for investment and he promised to contact you today. sir i will like you to come to Lagos here for this - with you here it will be easy by mail in whatever format you wish would be brilliant. I have attached a couple of photos of autographs that I took for an article in autograph quarterly, a hobby magazine. I came across your work and really enjoyed it. ++++ Thanks, Neil. Sorry about the phone thing. The number is actually a forwarding number, and automatically gets switched to my answer service if I am unavailable. I do a lot of travelling in my business and so I am never in one location for very long. The number I quoted previously is my direct number, but as I say if I am busy the answer phone will automatically take the call. My apologies over this, but I am an extremely busy man, as well as a transvestite. Where did you see my work? I am flattered but curious to know. Why do you want to collect autographs? What do they mean to you? Please will you confirm to me what dates you would prefer me to travel to Oxford so that I can try to book a flight for a suitable date and also find some nice mini skirts. +++++ Just online at the moment. As valet-de-chambre to the marquis de ------, I emigrated with my master, and that we might avoid suspicion we travelled on foot and I carried the luggage, consisting of a


casket containing 16,000 francs in gold and the diamonds of the late marchioness – Hopefully I will see it in real life, myself and my partner do go to many galleries and exhibitions.I have always collected something. I love art, from classical art through to modern, and performance. So this ticks two boxes. The autographs interest me in firstly being a collection, and secondly I find them to be of interest historically. I hope that makes sense. They mean a lot, from the time invested in the hobby, to the non replaceability of some of the autographs. I got Damien hirsts years ago when he wasn’t massively well known. Thank you. Neil. I do understand it is an odd request. ++++++ I am a kind man. Please don’t tell me of the widow’s suffering as it makes me sad. I am torn between not doing the deal, going to Lagos, or having the meeting with the diplomat somewhere else. Let me pray on it. it does make sense... i don’t think it’s an odd request. i think it’s interesting and nice. how many autographs do you have? are they archived carefully in plastic wallets and things or stacked in boxes on top of one another? Are they all photographed and in digital files? Sorry for the questions, I just can’t help asking. also, my friend got an email from you too. We studied together, but we’ve also been in several exhibitions together, I wonder what that connection was… +++++++ i am very sorry to use that arsh words on you. please forgive me and lets be one as before. Archived in files, some are photographed, not all. Very much a work in progress, I have over 2000 , so very time consuming to photograph. I will get there. All are logged and recorded. I have photographers, sculptors, performance artists, ceramicists, painters , quite a lot of different art forms. I think at some point it will be of historical importance, I seem to be the only person collecting artists autographs, so I really have no idea. I can find very little reference material. Please though, help the widow as you have promised earlier. she is even arranging on how she will come over very soon. Do sir keep the secret to the deplomat that


the content is not money, so that they make not raise eye brown on you ok. ++++++++ How are you today, i guess nice and splendid as usual? 2000 is a lot! have you been doing it a long time? what other things have you collected? +++++++++ I greet you in the name to now just inform you that I have sent information to you with the picture of myself having the fish in one hand, wine bottle in another hand and bread on my head. Did you receive it ? I sent it to you on 21st January. I have been looking forward to receive your kind e-mail. 20 years I’ve been collecting bookmarks, stamps when I was young. But just artists autographs now, art is a huge passion and i find it very interesting. I am trying to get graduates autographs, I think it would be fascinating to have and to follow the careers. I have been to the shows and they are astonishing. To see such art is brilliant, especially at such an early stage in their careers. Neil



Calvin & Carmel Calvin Laing


So. Every day on my way to work I pass this hole in the wall, Everyday on the way to work I pass this hole in this yellow wall, Everyday to work I pass this hole. Everyday on the way to work I pass this hole near the ground to the left in the yellow concrete wall. So. I’m kinda thinking about it, I’m not sure what it is, I’m like, eh It kinda looks like a cat hole, But, It’s poorly filled with mixed pebbled concrete, what’s that about I’m thinking and why is it even there. It’s the only hole on this entire quarter of a mile stretch on this vibrant yellow concrete slab wall. It has this not so perfect vertical rectangle cut out of it, which must be a cat flap thing, It must be. It must be something. So. Everyday, Everyday I’m passing this. The original image is actually a photograph of the eh emmm hole, which is framed with a gradation of the colour yellow (identical yellow as on the wall) to black, and from black on the bottom to yellow at the top. It just made sense. It was really nice, it just kinda, worked. So. Anyway, yes. Early last winter, Erm you know, I was on Bethnal Green Road with my girlfriend and decided to go to McDonalds, we must have been hungover or something, as we wouldn’t normally go to McDonalds you know, we aren’t usually those kind of people. It was just the desperate situation, you know, like you’re travelling somewhere that is nowhere, something like that. So. Anyway. That’s not the point. We were in McDonalds and we saw Rene and Carmel, our neighbours sitting in a group with a large bunch of older ladies, retired I presume having a gathering, a nice cuppa and a chat. We decided to get our food and sit with them. It became so clear. It just became so clear. Chatting about cats and cat chatting, Cats about chatting,


They like cats those ladies, It began to click √ The hole in the wall, the hole in the yellow wall, poorly filled up with pebbled concrete. I began chatting to Carmel, this old Irish lady, one of our neighbours as you know. She is lovely, but it is hard to totally follow and hear what she is saying, kinda like ‘oh well, the cats came out, this and that, Tom and Jerry, but one was too small, then we couldn’t have the hole, so we filled up the hole....’ We did begin chatting about the hole in the back wall, which turns out to be hers. Obviously. I couldn’t grasp exactly what she was saying; there were too many stories that just didn’t make sense. She would casually tangent from the point or the original question I had asked. How did they manage to drill into this solid concrete wall and make this peculiar hole. I knocked on it once. Solid. I just don’t know. So. Anyway. The hole, and the neighbour, yeah. So, erm You know. I get myself together to arrange a meeting to discuss what this is, this being the hole that is. Originally at this point, I introduce this video of Calvin & Kedleston where I’m running but not really running, but kind of running down this long never ending alleyway outside our houses, but not an alleyway kind of more court yard or something, but not quite a court yard, an indoor/outdoor kind of corridor space. So. I was invited to Carmel’s house, well not invited as I initiated this. I invited myself right. I can now at this point find out in greater detail the scenario and Alexa Hare could do the filming for the faux style documentary she was making. Hitting two birds with one stone. We managed a meeting and a cup of tea. I take the original image with me, well not image, photograph or more a sculpture actually.Yes, a sculpture. The piece I was talking about earlier with the yellow gradation to black, or black to yellow. And of course some biscuits, well not biscuits, cookies for the tea, not cookies, but something like that. Carmel comes out with some crackers. The height of the wall wasn’t always the height of the wall. The council built the walls slightly higher to stop trespassers, anti social behaviour and burglars, Safer I guess. Problem. Cats could no longer get back into the garden once the cats jumped over the wall.


They got stuck. Stuck on the other side. The other side of the yellow concrete wall. So. They (Rene and Carmel) note Rene is Carmel’s neighbour who also has a cat, or two, I can’t be sure; it’s hard to keep up. Rene had written to the council for the welfare of the cats and how it concerned them. For the cats could get back in. The builder (a nice man, states Carmel) drilled the hole in the wall or out of the wall for the cats to come in and out as they pleased The cat passed away sadly, Tom I think, Or maybe it was Jerry, Not sure. A new cat came along, Jerry, a kitten actually. The kitten would continuously go through the hole. Problem. They didn’t want the Tom to go through the hole, as there was a road on the other side. Dangerous. Then, on a cold wet January morning. Carmel and Rene mixed up pebbles with concreted and poked it through with their fingers. A small gap remains at the top of the hole but you can’t actually see it unless you crouch down and truly look at it. This gap looks like a shadow from my standing height. We then exited Carmel’s And thanked them.


Up for the Down Stroke Ciarรกn ร Dochartaigh


‘And the rest?’ ‘And the rest?’ ‘Say it one more time.’ ‘Say it one more time.’ ‘2 times.’

‘Did you just call and respond to yourself?’ ‘I do this when I’m upset’. ‘You can’t call and respond to yourself.’ ‘I do it when I’m lonely’, ‘Shit, I do it pretty much all the time.’ ‘I even did it when they lowered my old man into the ground.’ #Cue rim shot (Clyde Stubblefield) -------------------------

‘Ok, so what Key do you want to do this in?’ ‘I usually do it in the morning.’ ‘So it’s a tone lower.’ ‘But that was in the key of F.’ ‘Yeah exactly!’ ‘What?’ ‘So’... ‘Ok so what key then?’ ‘Ask the drummer.’ ‘Ask the drummer, if he can play in the key of F?’ # Cue ghost notes

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A few weeks ago I met Patrick. *Pause 0.5 sec


Patrick wears a silver bracelet on his right wrist. He wears a navy coloured silky bandana with a pen firmly inserted in it, right above his left eye; I’ve never once seen his hair. #Cue rim shot

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‘Don’t you mean 4 / 4?’ ‘You mean the augmented fourth?’ ‘Oh no, that’s the devils music.’ ‘Ok, lets change it to 4/2.’ *Pause 0.8 sec.

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At some point Patrick moved to New Jersey for a few years where he worked at a carpet factory. There he noticed Americans went crazy for his accent, coming back from lunch break with loads of phone numbers for potential weekend dates. *Pause look around (1 sec) -------------------------

Patrick climbed the pay scale and was put on the phones by the sheer force of his accent’s powers. He hated New Jersey. #Cue rim shot

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His mother lives somewhere in Central Florida, I told him she would be considered a Snowbird by locals. Some times I stare at Patrick so much he starts looking like Trevor Nelson. He has strong arms although he’s not necessarily athletic. It looks like he worked out quite a bit on his upper body strength at some point in his mid twenties


He began telling a story during the entire carpet-folding marathon. The client, an Iranian version of Marlon Brando would sometimes interrupt Patrick to tap the rugs with his bare feet and get the perfect fold. Everyone kept folding, listening to Patrick in the background as if his voice carried the necessary rhythm to slot the rug into its perfect pleat. By then, Patrick started recounting Danny Ray’s arrest in 2009, for possession of crack he was 74 years old. His luck had taken a turn for the worse, you know after 40 years doing the same job then suddenly you are out of work because your boss goes and dies. I am not your valet.

‘And now of course he (Prince) is going around saying the Internet is over, that the Internet is dead’. ‘What does that even mean? ‘Like it’s a thing, with a life span?’ ‘The Internet is never over it’s bigger than all of us.’ ‘Not to mention the dark net, the deep net.’

Patrick said he doesn’t even believe in Backmasking anymore and had recently tried to get the CEO of the old record company to agree to reverse the material. Declaring the Internet over and abandoning sexual expression. ‘Sex and the Internet can never be separated they need each other’.

At this stage the client was gripping the mothballs, dropping them one by one across the tapestries punctuating Patrick’s account of the array of memorabilia in room 1002. He had all five of us pulling in unison with the extraction fan and once again removing his shoes and tapping the corners of the rug to get the sections perfectly aligned. Patrick had stopped talking to focus on the precision demanded of us, surprisingly though the client insisted on hearing the rest of the story. We talked about the dirty dozen, 12 Angry Men, The Magnificent Seven, District 9, and Capricorn One.

Patrick enjoys putting on accents, he did Dallas very well, tried some New York set it in a diner, a plummy South English accent and did his mother’s Jamaican when she’s pissed at him. He once raised the pitch of his voice to sound like a geezer.


Walking into climate control level 2 he joked about someone he had met in Kentucky that sounded exactly like Foghorn J. Leghorn. #Cue rim shot (Upsetting Dub 1.15 seconds) -------------------------

‘I said to him,’ ‘You sounded like Smiley Culture earlier’ He laughed telling me Smiley Culture lived on his street and that he was a Police informant. #Cue rim shot

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The police came around to question him one day; at some point he went into the kitchen to make them tea and stabbed himself to death. #Cue rim shot

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Patrick didn’t understand why Smiley Culture wasn’t handcuffed and had the opportunity to make them tea, #Cue rim shot



Spangles, gullies, trenches at Highgate Bathing Ponds, has been collated By Ciarán Ó Dochartaigh on the occasion of the exhibition Upward Inflection, NURTUREart, New York March 2015. Sophie Jung (b. 1982, Luxemburg) studied at the Folkwang in Essen, the ZHdK in Zürich, The Rietveld Academy in Amsterdam and is currently doing a part-time MFA at Goldsmiths, London. Recent shows and performances were held at ICA (UK), MUDAM (LU), House for Electronic Arts (CH), S.A.L.T.S. (CH), Ceri Hand Gallery (UK), State of Concept (GR) and Oslo10 (CH). Currently her solo “New Waiting” is on show at Temnikova & Kasela in Tallinn (ES). Sophie’s writing has been published in PALE Journal, Hoax Publication, Paperwork Magazine, Journal of Visual Arts Practice, Intellect and Fiktion.cc In 2013 she received the Edward Steichen Award, Luxemburg which allows her to spend six months at ISCP, New York. Laura Morrison is an artist based in London. Her recent work has been shown at The Conch at South London Gallery, London (2014), Concerning The Bodyguard at The Tetley, Leeds (2014), Proxy Special at Platform Arts, Belfast (2014), Vivian, Cape Town at CANAL and Furnished Space, London (2013), How To Read World Literature at The Public School, New York (2013) and in a two person show at Void Gallery, Derry (2013). Her writing has recently been published in Journal ‘…Ment’. Forthcoming exhibitions and publica-

tions include: Bottom Natures at Café Gallery Projects, London, commissioned texts for zine, Wet Knickers, and Christiane Pooley’s forthcoming exhibitions in Oslo, The Video for I Want Your (Hands on Me) at Kerlin Gallery, Dublin, Open Sessions at The Drawing Center, New York and an essay for the Re-Animation Library, New York – all 2015. She studied at Chelsea College of Art and Design and Goldsmiths, London. Calvin Laing (b.1988) currently lives and works in London. He was a participant in the New Work Scotland Programme at Collective Gallery where he had a solo show in 2013. Selected group shows include: WADE IN Formalism Refreshed, Eastern Edge Gallery St John, Canada, 2015. IMAGE MIRAGE IAMAGE, Moana Project Space, Perth, Western Australia, 2014. Calvin & Office, Art Licks Weekend, Global Internet Talks, Studio Parlor London, 2014. Trolley of Folly, Bruno Glint, London, 2013. Hunky Dory, Karlin Studios, Prague, Czech Republic, 2013. Meet The Locals, Artima Gallery, Reykjavik, Iceland, 2012 and upcoming show, Linking, Linking Arms, in the Pig Rock Bothy Project Space at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art Edinburgh, 2015. Graduating from Edinburgh College of Art in 2011, working with the relationships of video, performance and documentation, Laing has work in public collections including Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art.


Ciarán Ó Dochartaigh was born in Derry and is based in London. He obtained an MFA at Goldsmiths College, London, 2010-2012. In 2013 he was awarded an individual artist grant for the inaugural City of Culture Derry. Recent Selected shows include Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, CCA Derry and Lismore Castle Arts (concurrently), March 2015. Proxy Special at Platform Arts, Belfast (2014) Concerning the Bodyguard at The Tetley, Leeds (2014) Vagabond Catalyst arts Belfast (2014) Emergencies are Unusual and Rare, Golden Thread Gallery, Belfast, (2013), Instances of Agreement, Kao Yuan art center, Taiwan (2013) Chisenhale’s 21st Century program (2012), Young London V22 London (2012) Vagabond Catalyst arts Belfast (2014) He has served on the board at Void Gallery, Derry and is a member of the curatorial committee and is taking part in the Lux critical forum (2014-2015). He was invited to participate in ‘The Conch’ at the South London Gallery (2012).

NURTUREart Non-Profit, Inc is a 501(c)3 New York State licensed federally tax-exempt charitable organization founded in 1997 by George J. Robinson.

Upward inflection was originally commissioned for Concerning The Bodyguard at The Tetley, Leeds. Curated by Laura Morrison.

NURTUREart is grateful for significant past support from the Liebovitz Foundation and the Greenwall Foundation, and to the many generous individuals and businesses whose contributions have supported us throughout our history. Finally, we would like to acknowledge the artists who have contributed works of art to past benefits— our continued success would be impossible without your generosity.

This exhibition has been generously co-funded by the British Council.

NURTUREart receives support from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, including member item funding from City Council Members Stephen Levin and Antonio Reynoso, the New York City Department of Education, and the New York State Council on the Arts. NURTUREart is also supported by the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Arts Council of Northern Ireland, British Council of Northern Ireland, Harold and Colene Brown Foundation, Con Edison, Czech Center New York, Edelman, the Francis Greenburger Charitable Fund of the Jewish Communal Fund, the Golden Rule Foundation, Greenwich Collection Ltd., the Joan Mitchell Foundation, the Milton and Sally Avery Arts Foundation, the Walentas Family Foundation, and the Wolf Kahn and Emily Mason Foundation. We receive in-kind support from Lagunitas, Societe Perrier, Tekserve, and Volunteer Lawyers for the Arts.



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