One Year with NURTUREart (2013/14) by NURTUREart

2013 / 2014

What three words do you associate with NURTUREart? Data from a survey carried out in the months of June and July 2013. The bigger the words, the higher their frequency in describing NURTUREart.

Introduction 04 Liz Sweibel: fragments of our own 09 The Psychic Triangle 15 Alina Tenser: Hip Openers 23 One Trace After 31 Jenny Santos: The Thing That’s There But Isn’t 39 To begin, at the beginning 45 #ArtistsBeLike 51 Mary Kate Maher: Braced Position 57 Videorover Season 7 61 Videorover Season 8 67 Multiplicity: City as Subject/Matter 73

Introduction by Marco Antonini NURTUREart’s 2013-14 season has been equal parts evaluation of what we have accomplished so far, consolidation of our human and material resources, and tryout period for present and future program ideas and strategies. After years of escalating success and increasing visibility, we sat down and finally took advantage of a wealth of data: internal and external surveys, and outcome and visibility assessments that have been periodically collected since before my tenure with the organization. Our growth and success are now facts and figures that we can not only keep in mind as personal and public accomplishments, but also use to decide what the most positive and wise future course of action will be and what the future of NURTUREart will look like. A few facts, none really new or unexpected to us, stood out quite prominently, and are worth highlighting at a time when little non profit organizations and multi-million-dollar budgeted museums are often being lumped together in calls

for public accountability, transparency and ethical treatment of their employees, volunteers, collaborators and audiences. Our signature open calls for artistic and curatorial project proposals (which jointly generate over 70% of NURTUREart’s programming) are free and open to all who wish to apply. Our Online Registry for Artists and Curators offers an equally free and accessible online platform, fostering artistic discovery, curiosity and research while encouraging cultural operators and art lovers alike to keep their minds open to the new and the unexpected. NURTUREart’s remarkably diverse and sometimes pleasantly idiosyncratic program of exhibitions, projects, talks and publications is largely shaped and defined by such accessible and transparently managed tools, and translates into diverse and inclusive exhibitions. NURTUREart programs, exhibitions, events and publications are planned with quality and relevance always on the

radar. This means that a few select exhibitions and publications are curated inhouse. Artistic and curatorial authorship are not outdated concepts to us and we strive to keep the level of our programs as high as possible, encouraging vision and originality and pointing to interesting new directions. To achieve this, we present projects that periodically expand and redefine the scope and reach of our work. This year was a revolutionary one in this sense. Our 2014 summer program, Multiplicity: City as Subject/Matter presented an international survey of artworks sharing an interest in the politics and poetic potential of contemporary urban environments and exposing the irresistible pull of the similaritiesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;intercultural meeting points, common problems, goals and dreamsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; around which people converge. Multiplicity featured a wide-ranging selection of works exploring culturally and geographically distant urban spaces, was curated in collaboration with a network of advisors based in Belfast, Hong Kong,

New Delhi, New York, Tel Aviv and Tirana, and presented as a series of four consecutive exhibitions hosted by NURTUREart, Mixed Greens, INVISIBLE-EXPORTS and Union Docs. Multiplicity was the result of more than one year of work and brought an unprecedented level of international exchange and cooperation to NURTUREart and to all participating venues, resulting in unprecedented critical attention. The exhibition was favorably reviewed in the New York Times (a first, for us), Modern Painters, Art F City, the L magazine and many other blogs and publications and will be followed by a dedicated publication. As foreshadowed by the consistent quality of our exhibition e-books and a few previous experiments with the printed page, the production of books conceived as stand-alone critical tools has also been a new focus. This is why we decided to publish Golden Age: Perspectives on Abstract Painting Today. This book of essays and interviews serves as a critical tool for artists, curators and

>ÀÌ ÛiÀÃ > i Ì `i> Ü Ì Ì i VÀ Ì V> > discourse surrounding the contemporaryy return of abstract painting to the fore-front of artistic practice. Golden Age al-lowed us to further expand our research,, practice and commitment outside the e gallery, to connect with the artistic com-munity surrounding us, and to steer a public debate on abstraction painfullyy >ÀÀi` LÞ L> > Ì iÃ > ` Ã « wV>Ì Ã Ã of all sorts in a more meaningful and in-formed direction. All in all, it’s been a great 2013-14 season n and, as usual, one of the highlights wass sharing the road with the best possible e board of trustees in the world, a staff ff Ì >Ì ÌÀÕ Þ > ` V Ã ÃÌi Ì Þ vii Ã i > Ài-sponsible and committed team, and volunteers that always surprise and humble us with their generosity and resourcefulness. As a team, we set up an amazing > ` ÃÕÃÌ> >L i Ü À } i Û À i Ì the past 4 years and this process has led not only to the success and recognition that NURTUREart has already been consistently enjoying, but to new and maniv ` « ÃÃ L Ì iÃ° / > Ã Ì > v Þ Õ v À your continuing support. As always, we owe it to you, and hope that you will not Þ ÃÌ>Þ ÕÀ «] LÕÌ ii« i Þ } the ride as much as we do.

How Do We Use Our Exhibition Budgets? The allocation of exhibition budgets for the period January 2011 - December 2013 ÀiyiVÌÃ Ì i iÝVi«Ì > « ÀÌ> Vi Ì >Ì Üi ÀiyiVÌÃ Ì i iÝVi«Ì > « ÀÌ> Vi Ì >Ì Üi place in providing artist and curatorial fees.

How Many? NURTUREart created visibility

Gender Balance. Artists and curators

and professional opportunities for a total of

involved in NURTUREart exhibitions and

206 artists and 20 curators between January

education program activities in the period

2011 and December 2013. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s circa 70

January 2011 - December 2013.

artists and 7 curators per exhibition year.

Liz Sweibel, What We Do to Each Other, 2012. Wood, paint, dimensions variable.

Liz Sweibel

fragments of our own

September 6 â&#x20AC;&#x201D; October 4, 2013

Sliding Beneath the Surface by Maysey Craddock The past only comes back when the present runs so smoothly that it is like the sliding surface of a deep river. Then one sees through the surface to the depths. In those moments I find one of my greatest satisfactions, not that I am thinking of the past, but that it is then that I am living most fully in the present. For the present when backed by the past is a thousand times deeper than the present when it presses so close that you can feel nothing else, when the film on the camera reaches only the eye. But to feel the present sliding over the depths of the past, peace is necessary. The present must be smooth, habitual. For this reason—that it destroys the fullness of life—any break—like that of house moving—causes me extreme distress; it breaks; it shallows; it turns the depth into hard thin splinters. Virginia Woolf “A Sketch of the Past,” 1939-1940

Woolf’s words situate our experience of time in a linear way, but allow for movement, perspective and change. If we sit in stillness, our minds and voices quiet, we open ourselves to the richness and nuance of memory. Conversely, upheaval and the friction of hurry blind and deafen us and pull the horizon uncomfortably close. With a quietly penetrating visual language, Liz Sweibel’s work taps into deep currents of shared experience. Her sculptures, drawings and installations mine the interstices. In her exhibition fragments of our own, Sweibel invites us to consider the unseen waters flowing beneath the surface of every moment. Subtly human and mutely resonant, her delicate and oblique constructions invoke the unspoken, hidden, suppressed and forgotten. We enter a conversation imbued with silence and hovering in stillness. Sweibel’s work does not romanticize or re-create a lost past, but rather insists on the value of what remains by illuminating fragmented glimpses into the depths. It amplifies and interprets echoes and the lines connecting them, creating

a new present within a palimpsest of historical accumulation. It delves into the traces of what was to make meaning of what is. Sweibel’s work challenges our notions of visceral and monumental space. Despite its diminutive scale, it has a forceful presence. The formally beautiful, dense compositions of wood, with their rich pigment and subtle patina, hold their own. Materially resourceful, Sweibel establishes a dialog between the tactility of rescued materials (strips of wood, bits of wire) and the readable surfaces of the architectural environment: an arc of old tile in the floor or an expanse of wall left to speak for itself. Clustered together, gathered in pairs and small groups, Sweibel’s sculptures are arranged with expansion in mind. Negative space is electrified and charged with meaning. In conversation with their environment, they are more than what they seem to be. They also call on other voices to join the conversation—personal and collective, past and present.

Collaborating with an already present visual terrain, Sweibel manipulates material and space, configuring and reconfiguring them into a personal language that pulls us deep into subtle but strong currents. Like Woolf, Sweibel wants us to slow down, dive in and expand out again. Her work is a new language—deeply private but viscerally accessible—for forgotten or unrecorded landscapes and disappeared histories.

Above: Untitled (#16 on wall; from wall out: #8, #3, #5, #4, #1, #23, #24, #6, #2), 2012-2013. Wood, paint, table, dimensions variable. Opposite Page: Untitled (splinter installation #1), 2013. Wood, paint, dimensions variable.

Matthew Jensen Kelly Lynn Jones Jenn Kahn Jeremy Miranda Caleb Nussear Joey Weiss Natalia Zubko

The Psychic Triangle curated by Jessica Cannon

October 11 â&#x20AC;&#x201D; November 8, 2013

The Psychic Triangle by Jessica Cannon The Psychic Triangle refers to the ambiguous territory between humans, the natural world, and the designed world. Through various forms of design such as object making, resource extraction, and designed systems of power, humans have assumed an outsize role in shaping the natural world while simultaneously awakening to a destructive aftermath. The artists in The Psychic Triangle are exploring the unfamiliar terrain where distinctions between nature and design dissolve into one another. From this uncertain place their diverse studio practices are mining a new consciousness—one that is defined by the inseparable coupling of power and anxiety. Matthew Jensen, Jeremy Miranda, and Joey Weiss use surrogate figures to articulate the alien qualities of natural and designed spaces. In The Return, Matthew Jensen depicts a plant growing atop a mossy beige carpet, within a Coast Guard barrack that has been uninhabited for over a decade. Its leaves stand at attention beneath a hole in the ceiling where water seeps through. Jeremy

Miranda’s painting, Dead of Winter, also imbues plants with figurative qualities. Set in an environment that is formally divided between an outside seascape and a minimal modern interior, the plants bask under the orange glow of a heat lamp. The plants’ dependence on an artificial sun mirrors the ways that human survival is also wrapped up in designed objects. Alternating between night and day, interior and exterior, Joey Weiss’ video Shadow McDonalds offers a poetic creation myth for prosaic spaces. Set against various shadows, the block walls, trimmed shrubs, and mismatched chairs that populate Shadow McDonalds take on a character that transcends both nature and design. Jenn Kahn and Natalia Zubko reconstruct the natural world by using designed objects as sculptural material. Jenn Kahn’s work, Pack of Gray Standing Wolf, features a horizontal arrangement of identical porcelain wolf figurines atop a floor-level plinth. Huddled together in a long line with chests pointed out, these symbols of the wild are in silent confrontation with the viewer. Through Kahn’s in-

stallation the wolves reclaim their iconic power while occupying a vulnerable position at the viewer’s feet. Natalia Zubko’s Cabinet of Little Systems displays small Haeckel-like specimens made of everyday materials. Circles collected from paper hole punches are carefully arranged like fish scales. Q-tips are intricately woven into a semi-circular dome reminiscent of coral. Zubko’s works quietly allude to the ways that discarded human objects are transforming the natural world. Both Caleb Nussear and Kelly Lynn Jones depict sublime skies interrupted by technological objects. In Drones II, Caleb Nussear’s sometimes-blurry mountains channel the history of Romanticism into a virtual landscape surveyed by drones. While the aerial perspective reveals a particular orientation to the landscape, it is unclear if the image is translated from the site itself, or from a digital feed thousands of miles away. Through a process of mark making and erasing, Nussear’s graphite drawing articulates the inherently nebulous qualities of drones, which augment the physical presence of humans in the air while surveying and enacting violence against those on the ground. Kelly Lynn Jones’ 1986 is an arrangement of found images of the Challenger launch layered on top of each other in a column. The blue

hues are reminiscent of the New York sky that was present on September 11, 2001. For those who witnessed these events the sky is no longer a thing unto itself but also a backdrop to human experiences. The Psychic Triangle is an evolving territory where the human scale is in constant flux. At a time when natural gas mining is causing small earthquakes and mechanical levees are promoted as a salve for rising tides, humans are caught in a paradox between dominance and vulnerability. For the artists in this exhibition, this particular consciousness represents both a strange condition and an opportunity. In approaching this terrain from various perspectives, they resist declarations and locate the self amid ideas and forms once thought to be separate.

With sincere gratitude to Dr. David Brody, Professor and Director of the MA History of Decorative Arts Program at Parsons The New School for Design, and Dr. Clive Dilnot, Professor of Design Studies in the School of Art and Design History and Theory at Parsons The New School for Design, for generously offering feedback in the development of this exhibition.

Above: Caleb Nussear, Drones II, 2011. Graphite on chalk paper, 50x52 inches. Opposite Page: Natalia Zubko, Cabinet of Little Systems (detail), 2009-2011. Plexiglass cabinet of mixed media sculptures, 15x12x8 inches altogether.

Above: Jenn Kahn, Pack of Gray Standing Wolf (detail), 2013. Found objects and wood plinth, dimensions variable. Opposite Page: Jeremy Miranda, Dead of Winter, 2013. Acrylic on panel, 10x8 inches.

Alina Tenser

Hip Openers

November 15 â&#x20AC;&#x201D; December 12, 2013

Interview with Marco Antonini Marco Antonini: How do you envision the life of an artwork that you created beyond the studio, in real life or even in someone else’s life? Alina Tenser: I am rarely attached to work after it has been shown; there is a natural removal that happens. It is not necessarily a rejection but I just don’t feel involved with it anymore. This specifically happens with the physical sculptures more than the videos. Perhaps there is a more intense involvement with the physical forms while I’m making them as well; I am usually more dissatisfied with them. I am very curious about how other people live with my work; it never occurs to me while making it that someone would “live” with it… I hardly ever live with it myself. I only deal with work in the studio, and live with it in a platonic sense when I am not there. MA: How does this, uhm… platonic relationship actually influence the finished piece? Do you spend a lot of time imagining and planning your work or do you

mostly make it in the studio? AT: I spend time imagining and writing about work that I’m working on all the time, but I’m usually more attached to a piece during its early developmental stages. I don’t necessarily know how the finished piece will look, or even what it will be about; it feels like a song that you can’t get out of your head, and maybe you don’t even know the words to, but makes you feel very good every time you sing it. MA: When did you start working with green screen and chroma keying, and what prompted that decision? AT: I started working with green screen in late 2011. I was in graduate school at Virginia Commonwealth University School of the Arts, which has an incredibly strong sculpture department, and I felt the need to talk about form in a new way. The first video I made was of my hands touching one of my sculptures. The way the viewer experiences the form was

through my fleeting moments of contact. I made several of these hand videos and at the time referred to them as “sculptures” because they were so much about form, making, and contact with material. It was actually really great to make these videos while surrounded by a group of astute makers that could think about dimensionality in such depth. Form, making, and contact are still prominent concerns in my videos, but I think more about directing and the choreography of how objects and body cutouts appear in the video. I’ve become more interested in how the body articulates form. MA: How were your experiments in those directions received in school? Was there any positive or negative feedback that helped you further define the work at that early stage? AT: For the most part the videos were received with support. I definitely made a couple of crudely keyed out videos, mostly due to my inexperience with lighting and editing, so I got a little bit of hesitation from my peers about where this work might be going and my technical abilities. Corin Hewitt was one of my advisors and he encouraged my initial interest in video being another avenue

for investigating form. Ester Partegas was my thesis advisor and both her and Corin encouraged the autobiographical part of my work. More specifically, my son, Nikolai, was 10-months old when I started grad school and I was trying to figure out my motherhood and my direction as an artist simultaneously. There are a lot of body and reproductive references that happen in my work and it took me a while to be confident with my own imagery. MA: What is the difference between making and showing? And between making and making believe? AT: I try to not be very judgmental when making, letting myself make dumb things and muck around in uncertainty. What I show is edited, not the pieces themselves but the selection or grouping. A big part of my practice is about what is not shown. I don’t consider it refuse; it is a necessary support system. MA: Do you consider the props you create and use in your videos “sculptures”? AT: They are made like sculptures. Some have utility in mind. I don’t refer to them as props because they are not fake or

faux in any way. The video is used to assist in experiencing their form in what I think is a more enhanced or autonomous way. The sculptures are what carries the video, whereas props usually tend to assist a narrative or a scenario. MA: I see. I think I thought of props because I carried a mental image of your studio sets, with the abandoned, inactive objects resembling some sort of tableaux… you sent me pictures documenting some of your studio settings, stills of your green screen “performances” and even studio object arrangements and texture. How do these images fit in your practice and do you envision showing them (if at all)? AT: That’s a part I am still trying to figure out. I know that the objects, costumes, and set will never be shown with the videos. But I have considered showing them alone at some point. I also really like the video stills, keyed out and not. It is a very difficult logic to arrive at and I like how bizarre these are without the larger context. It’s like an “if aliens landed, what would they think” game, but for people. MA: There is a constant tension between inside and outside in your work, how

does that translate in the different languages of 3D sculpture and video? What are the inherent possibilities and limits of both media? AT: I like this question. There is constant reciprocity between void and form in the work. In the videos I am sometimes able to have objects have a simultaneously convex and concave state. Basically, cupped forms that have green screen exteriors and visible interiors start to look like protrusions when translated into video. It was something I was excited to find out when making the Pong With Herself video, in the spring of 2012, and have been investigating ever since. The way physical depth and dimensionality translate to video is endlessly surprising and interesting to me. I would say that’s one of the strongest drives I have in making videos right now. MA: To what degree are craft and finish important to you, and why? Is your creative process leading you in new directions and/or to further experiment with new ideas and materials these days? AT: The recent work has more fluidity between object, performance, and video. Some of the sculptures I make start out

as stand-alone pieces one day and start to resonate better in video the other (and vice versa). Some get made as props or Ü Ì Ì i Ìi Ì v ÕÌ ÌÞ] i }Àii ÃVÀii Ã i ÛiÃ À ` iÃ] > ` i ` Õ« w ` } Ì >Ì Ì iÞ >Ài] >VÌÕ> Þ] ÃVÕ «ÌÕÀiÃ° i incidental sculpture, there is a forwardÌ } V w`i Vi Ì i > ` Ü i > } Ã iÌ } Ü Ì > «ÕÀ« Ãi° ` ½Ì }iÌ L }}i` ` Ü VÀ>vÌ À w Ã ] ÜiÛiÀ ÕÃÌ Ã>Þ > > ÃÕV iÀ v À ÃÕÀv>Vi° i Ì Ì >L ÕÌ Ü ÃÕÀv>Vi > ÜÃ > L `Þ Ì ÌiÀ>VÌ Ü Ì Ì i Ü À Æ v À iÝ> « i] Ì i Ü>Þ ÌÀ> Ã ÕVi VÞ] y>Ì iÃÃ À ÀiyiVÌ Û ÌÞ ÃÕÀv>ViÃ >««À >V Ì i Û iÜers’ body: one lets in, the second bounciÃ L>V ] > ` Ì i Ì À` > ÜÃ Ì i Û iÜiÀ Ì feel the contours of their own form. MA: What is failure to you? When is an >ÀÌÜ À Þ ÕÀÃ À Ì iÀÜ Ãi® v> i`¶ Ƃ/\ ÃÌ } ` Ü À >Ã Ì Ài>V > « Ì of failure; sometimes there is a graceful ÀiV ÛiÀÞ° > ÕÀi w Ã i` Ü À Ã L>Ài and honest, I understand it most in sculptural terms— >ÌiÀ > v> ÕÀi Ã Ã V Þ > ` clumsy. I believe in paying attention to failure because it is bare and active, it is always in a state of wanting to change. / i Ü À Ì >Ì }iÌÃ Ã Ü Ã i` Ìi` v> ÕÀi°

Elizabeth Orr Carlos Reyes Claudia Weber Geo Wyeth

One Trace After curated by Alison Burstein

January 3 â&#x20AC;&#x201D; January 31, 2014

Notes on Traces by Alison Burstein As a complement to One Trace After, this text rearticulates the exhibition’s central proposition in a different form. Where the exhibition suggests that a visitor’s encounter with an artwork or group of artworks in a gallery always results in a partial impression—limited by the physical and discursive contexts framing it— these pages explore how this condition of incompleteness impacts the project of documenting an exhibition. Recognizing that it is not possible to comprehensively portray the artworks and their relationships to one another as they exist in the exhibition, this publication instead brings together a series of traces that take the form of words and images documenting moments from One Trace After’s conception, development, and realization. The contents of the exhibition’s publication (http://issuu.com/nurtureart/ docs/onetraceafter_ebook_final2/1) offer insight into these phases of the exhibition’s evolution from the perspectives of its contributors—the curator, the artists, and the writers. To shed light on One Trace After’s conceptual underpinnings, I

have incorporated quotations representing the thinkers and theories that motivated my investigation of traces. The artists have selected materials that uncover aspects of their creative processes by directly or abstractly illustrating the research, ideation, or creation of their works. As reflections on the exhibition in its fully realized form, four unique press releases are included within; composed by me and three invited writers, these texts were released weekly during the exhibition’s run. And for the final element, images of the gallery installation and the individual artworks as they first appeared punctuate these pages. Between the publication’s covers, these components are fluidly mixed together: a flip of a page results in a shift in moment, voice, reference, or mode of representation. By compiling the traces without regard for chronology or typology, the exhibition’s publication prompts the reader to peruse it according to his or her interpretative sense, whether that means following or straying from the given order. In doing so, the reader

can develop his or her understanding of the exhibition not only through the traces captured on the pages, but also through the connections that he or she > iÃ LiÌÜii Ì i ° 7 Ì i>V « Ìi Ì > vviÀ } > ` ÃÌ VÌ «iÀÃ«iVÌ Ûi Ì i iÝ L Ì > ` ÌÃ >ÀÌÜ À Ã] Ì Ã publication invites visitors to multiply the meanings and narratives associated with One Trace After, turning the document’s incompleteness into an indication of its unfolding future rather than a product of ÌÃ wÝi` À } °

Geo Wyeth, Den, 2013. Performance.

Above: Elizabeth Orr, Steak (detail), 2014. Digital video, a/v equipment, wood, wheels, digital prints, dimensions variable. Opposite Page: Claudia Weber, Take the Day Off (detail), 2013. Archival pigment print, 70 x 44 inches.

Jenny Santos

The Thing That’s There But Isn’t

February 15 — March 16, 2014

... by Kim Smith They Sit Together on the Porch They sit together on the porch, the dark Almost fallen, the house behind them dark. Their supper done with, they have washed and dried The dishes–only two plates now, two glasses, Two knives, two forks, two spoons–small work for two. She sits with her hands folded in her lap, At rest. He smokes his pipe. They do not speak, And when they speak at last it is to say What each one knows the other knows. They have One mind between them, now, that finally For all its knowing will not exactly know Which one goes first through the dark doorway, bidding Goodnight, and which sits on a while alone. Wendell Berry

As Robert Edmond Jones states in his book The Dramatic Imagination, “The loveliest and most poignant of all stage pictures are those that are seen in the mind’s eye”. He continues: “The theater we know occupies itself with creating stage ‘illusion’. What we are now interested in, however, is not illusion, but allusion, and allusion to the most magical beauty”.

So then, we can consider scenic design in theater as a marker, a prop, and signifier of the content that is implied and further projected as a rich visual display within the viewer’s mind. This setting is often a place filled with memory and truth, lies and misconceptions, the formulated and the experienced. In the mind’s eye, rife with nostalgia, perhaps the porch is a setting of relaxation, conversation, and reverie. Opening to the outside world, the porch frames the horizon and the sky. The taste of sweet summer air. Dancing fireflies. A mint julep or evening smoke. Cuddled in an old rocking chair with a book, or swaying on a porch swing. This is a place that embodies leisure and the summer ideal: the ability to take comfort in idly watching the day pass by. An architectural trope, the porch has a rich history and place in our culture. The porch functions as an in-between space. This place,

not entirely private, though still nestled in the safety of home, is the space between the outside world and the domestic interior. It is a place of viewing and a place to be viewed, both a stage and a seating area. While on the porch, you are both a spectator and an actor.

(Enter JENNY SANTOS: the director, creator). SETTING: Art gallery. Enclosed. Trapped. Unnatural. Indoor. Artificial. A simply constructed front porch, presumably an extension of a home, opens up to face a solid, white wall. As an installation artist, Jenny Santos utilizes context to reimagine the content of such a space. Santos is a builder, both literally and figuratively. She assembles her materials to fabricate metaphor. Her connection with the literal world is one of suggestion and symbol. There is hollowness to this construction that subtly reminds us that it is just thatâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;a construction. In this, it is also a gesture of failure. The obvious inability to recreate what we hold dear about this sacred

space leaves us with only an idea of such an experience. After all, is that not what art is: a modifier for another experience? The Thing Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s There But Isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t offers a hollow shell of an experience. Based on an idea embedded with memories so rich and vast, this installation diminishes this understanding through the enclosure of the gallery and the stage-like scenic flats. In denying us the full physical experience we associate with the porch, Santos enunciates this lack and asks us to consider our failed ideals. As viewers, perhaps this juxtaposition reminds us of our entrapment: enclosed in the gallery and confined to the city. The urban grit, the claustrophobic surroundings, and the obstructed horizon encroach upon our ability to experience the natural world. We are denied the luxury of space, of gazing out unto an untouched landscape, and the quiet peace that a rural or suburban (or anywhere but here) kind of place can offer. As we perch ourselves on this porch, we are reminded of our place and the physical nature of all that we are missing. We are left on this porch, a place of reminiscence and contemplation, to gaze out at the vast whiteness of the gallery wall and consider all that we have and all that is lacking.

Jenny Santos, The Thing Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s There But Isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t, 2014. Mixed media, dimensions variable.

Megan Broadmeadow Mike Calway-Fagen Pascal-Michel Dubois Katalin Hausel Mikael Kennedy Tommy Kwak Phuc Le

To begin, at the beginning curated by Sam Perry

March 28 â&#x20AC;&#x201D; April 25, 2014

Come Home by Sam Perry Artists, like numerous other vocational beings (basketball players, archaeologists, tornado hunters) are often led far from home in search for a more nurturing place for their practice. For many, this inspiration is in New York City: an immigrant town with a quintessentially migratory art world to match. You can see, or vividly imagine, a mass exodus around Christmas time when artists and other creative types go home to their families, with stories and anecdotes on and about “The City”. At that and other times of the year, all of us in the arts sector become storytellers. Modern day bards, as well as central characters in our own literary drama, we carefully craft and fashion our narrative, leaving out the embarrassing bits, embellishing the good ones, decorating the air around the dining table, the fireplace, the stove or porch. The thematic framework of To begin, at the beginning was born from observations by (and on) expatriate writers, particularly those whose stories, characters and plots are steeped in hometown histories and lore. James Joyce, whose entire catalogue is

based in and around the city of Dublin, Ireland, is a perfect example. His writing is unmistakably “Dublin”, from his descriptions of people to the settings they inhabit. Anyhow, Joyce left Ireland before he began to pen these stories, and only once did he make a brief journey back there before his death. For many expatriates, trips back home can be a somewhat abrasive or emotionally and literally explosive experience. Marco Polo, who left his hometown of Venice at the age of seventeen, didn’t arrive back until he was forty-one, only to find the place in the midst of a bloody war with Genoa. He was immediately captured and taken prisoner. After his release and the end of the conflict, it’s a little surprising or perhaps not surprising at all that he decided to never leave Venice again. To many in the U.S.A. the notion of homecoming might evoke the annual tradition of parades and college football games; to others, the Protestant Church and its welcome back ceremonies, held for former members or pastors.

The subject of homecoming is bound to inspire a wide range of reactions, producing interpretations as varied as the ideas and inclinations as each individual on Earth, all of us informed by a wealth of different experiences on what “coming home” actually means. This variety of interpretations is reflected in the work of numerous emerging contemporary artists, wherever in the world they may find themselves; the rapturous feelings that homecoming can provoke, manifest themselves to equally diverse creative ends. The exhibition’s participating artists each speak about, amongst many other things, literally or mentally returning home. While Phuc Le works departs from a reunion with both his father and the place in which he grew up, Mike CalwayFagen articulates on his unavoidable attachment to Tennessee, while PascalMichel Dubois revisits abrasive school memories in his native France. Megan Broadmeadow’s St Winifred’s Return is a video work recounting the return of Saint Winifred, a Welsh mythological figure, to a modern version of her hometown in rural Wales. Of the ever-growing collection of Mikael Kennedy’s celebrated Polaroid works, taken whilst travelling, it is the somewhat rare images from his Vermont

homecomings that resound with the most effect. Katalin Hausel’s sculptures abstract her own sense of place, exploring the ways it shapes her identity and self-perception. Geographically ambiguous, the forests surrounding Tommy Kwak’s childhood home instills a universal enquiry into an aesthetic of absence and paradoxically, anticipation for the unknown. Edward W. Said stated that those who create art should be “Unhoused wanderers across language. Eccentric, aloof, nostalgic, deliberately untimely…”1 Yet exilic living, the willing or un-willing to live away from our place of origin, seems a necessity for many artists. In parallel, whether with abrasion or celebration, to return, to come home seems important as it is ritualistic. 1. From Reflections on Exile and Other Essays, Harvard University Press, 2000.

Alongside The Loneliness of the MiddleDistance Runner, Flux Factory, NYC (2012) and Cities of Ash, g39, Cardiff, UK (2014), To begin, at the beginning forms part of a trilogy of exhibitions that draw upon literary tendencies and observations as a base influence, showing work of emerging artists from the US and the UK.

Above: Mike Calway-Fagen, The Ever Expanding, 2011. Photo on vinyl, 48x108 inches. Opposite Page: Tommy Kwak, Tree (Hoge Veluwe, The Netherlands,) 2012. C-print, 30x40 inches.

Project Curate 2013- 2014: Tinia Albert, Cesar Beltre, Ramon Capellan, Kayla Gamble, Angel Montes, Angelica Ortiz, David Ortega, Gesifed Paucar, Destiny Perez, Charisma Rios, Yunior Rivas, Madelyn Santiago. Teacher Partner: Denise Martinez. Project Curate provides a class of advanced art students from Juan Morel Campos High School an opportunity to experience contemporary curatorial practices by working closely with a professional curator for an entire school year, culminating in an exhibition at NURTUREart Gallery. This year their mentor was Loney Abrams, Co-Director of hotelart.uss and ThereTherebiz. biz. Project Curate is part of NURTUREartâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Education Program, dedicated to nurturing and enriching the next generation with its unique arts programs that connect professional artists and curators with students and teachers.

Mikkel Carl Mitchell Charbonneau Emily Clayton Andrea Crespo Justin Kemp Michael Pybus Paul Wiersbinski

#ArtistsBeLike curated by Project Curate with Loney Abrams

May 2 â&#x20AC;&#x201D; May 23, 2014

#ArtistsBeLike by Loney Abrams #ArtistsBeLike is an exhibition co-curated by 12 individuals born after 1997, after the advent of the internet. The first wave of digital natives are now coming of age and are consuming, producing, and connecting at high speeds. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s no surprise that market analysts, media theorists, sociologists, and art professionals alike are paying attention to those who grew up online. When I was asked to participate in Project Curate, I felt as if I was gaining access to privileged information, tapping into the mindset of a generation who would soon become the next wave of emerging artists and curators. I began the semester by asking the class whether they knew what curating was. No one seemed to have a clue (one student, thinking about the root of the word, figured it had something to do with curing people of illness). Then I asked if anyone had ever made a Tumblr or a blog, a playlist or a Soundcloud track, a Facebook photo album, or a Youtube playlist. As I expected, everyone raised their hand. While the act of

curating summons a deep understanding of contemporary artists and trends, it also requires the ability to make connections between disparate points. And for those of us who spend a lot of time on the internet, consuming vast amounts of informationâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;editing, rearranging, and redistributing that information comes quite naturally. Whether or not the students knew much about contemporary art, they did, in a sense, already know how to curate. Throughout the year, I asked the teens to post images and videos of art they found online to our class blog. The result was a mashup of content from widely differing sourcesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;traditional figurative painting sat in between branded advertisements, amateur drawings, anime screen grabs, and inspirational sayings. On the internet, there are no white walls, no museum entrances, no barriers between what is art and what is not. To the students, whether something was intended as art was less important than whether something was real or fake, entertaining or boring, worth reblogging or ignoring.

After discussing the ways in which online communication affected our relationships, avatars constructed our identities, and digital images confronted our notions of reality, we put out an open call asking artists to submit work that offered new perspectives to our conversation. After seeing how open the kids were to discussing just about anything found online, I was surprised by how hesitant they were to accepting non-traditional media as art. As soon as we switched contexts, from blog to gallery, and began discussing the exhibition as an IRL space, the teencurators started to restructure their selection criteria to reflect a generalized view of what they imagined exhibitions should look like. They had trouble accepting digital images, experimental music videos, web performances, or even found object sculpture as art, and instead leaned towards traditional media like paint on canvas or black and white photography. Relocating from the screen to the gallery was a more difficult contextual shift than I had anticipated, and I started encouraging the kids to use the logic they employed to navigate the web, to select artworks for the exhibition. We stopped talking about what was art and what was not, and instead focused on which pieces initiated the most engaging dialogue in

the classroom. We made maps and flowcharts, using hashtags to summarize concepts and tag clouds to group artworks together. The result of our investigations is an exhibition that I believe to not only be the consequences of a class assignment, but a visualization of surf logic, and the manifestation of the teenage thought process informed by a life online. The exhibition wasn’t just the end product. It was also the means to creating new content that reflected the student’s habitual desire to produce and share. During the opening, our teenage curators took over NURTUREart’s social media accounts and live tweeted the event. They took pictures and used hashtags, relocating the exhibition back to the screen. After noting that most of the work we had discussed was in the form of documentation online, we decided to use the installation shots of #ArtistsBeLike as an opportunity for intervention, making our own versions of the exhibition by inserting found images into the photos. What started as a discussion of online media materialized into a gallery exhibition, and then ended up right back to where it started: on the internet.

Andrea Crespo, B.R.O.-Xplode, 2014. Video, TRT 7:47.

Justin Kemp, Proclaming my love at a scenic overlook on top of a mountain, 2010. Performance documentation (detail), 24x18 inches.

MaryKate Maher

Braced Position

May 30 â&#x20AC;&#x201D; June 5, 2014

Braced Position/ Forced Posture Braced Position investigates formal combinations in which objects are positioned in coercive relationships with each other. One element supports the other, sug}iÃÌ } > Ìi Ì>Ì Ûi LÕÌ Ü À } v Õ `>tion. Sculptures reference natural forms: À V Ã] V Õ Ã v >ÀL i > ` Ü `Æ L>Ãi materials serve as surrogates, describing an underlying relationship of forms. Inlaid ovals of out-of-focus space become moments of visual vibration, resisting the `iw Ì v v Ài}À Õ ` À L>V }À Õ `] both animating and obscuring the surface on which they are placed. Things pretend to be alright, to be acceptable, to blend in. They do their best to accommodate each other. There is an intimacy Ì Ãpi LÀ>V } > ` «Õ } L>V against a type of structural apathy. In the concurring performance, Forced Posture: extension of the studio body, a large, unwieldy object is moved from one location to another by hand and body alone. This act is similar to the > iÀ Ü V Ì i >ÀÌ ÃÌ ÛiÃ Ü À the studio: propping and pushing, hoisting objects that are too heavy to lift by

sheer might. The artist’s body instead Ü À Ã >Ã > Ã « i >V iÆ iÀ L `Þ Licomes a lever, a pulley, a tripod, allow } Ì i Û iÜiÀ Ì Ü Ì iÃÃ Ì i >Ü Ü>À`] vulnerable, Sisyphean moments usually hidden behind the studio walls.

Mary Kate Maher: Braced Position and the performance Forced Posture: extension of the studio body were presented as special projects in the occasion of Bushwick Open Studios 2014, between May 30 and June 5, 2014. The performance was held on Sunday, June 1 at noon, and took place between the artist’s studio and NURTUREart Gallery.

Videorover: Season 7, screening at UnionDocs.

Alison Ballard

Joy McKinney

Rachelle Beaudoin

Mores McWreath +

Bianca Boragi

Cathy Park Hong

Javier Bosques

David Politzer

Jonathan Johnson

Michael Szpakowski

Tamara Johnson

Sam Winks

<QJCT -ƂT

Magdalen Wong

Season 7 curated by Nicholas O’Brien

December 15, 2013 - June 6, 2014

Videorover, Season 7

Videorover, NURTUREart’s dedicated video program, aims at becoming an everexpanding forum for emerging and underrepresented artists working in video. The seventh season of Videorover featured a variety films and video works loosely connected by curator Nicholas O’Brien’s invitation to consider “winter” (as a season and as an expanded notion) as overarching topic. The coldest of the seasons, “winter” can actually signify a multitude of cultural, social, and historical conditions, often requiring moments of solace and self-reflection. The artists presented in this program offer diverse approaches to dealing with the cold and isolation that this contemplative time can bring. While some artists point to the absurdity of hyper-consumerism that plagues the holiday season, others point to an underlying lonesomeness that comes from the high potential for prolonged cabin fever. Wry humor, coy performance, subtle narrative, geographical juxtaposition, affectionate documentation, and evocative sound are pervasive among all selections, used to break through the sheets of ice

that wrap this time of year. O’Brien has put together a program to bring about a hopeful warmth not just to battle the impending chilliness, but also to light the fire of a collective hearth. Videorover: Season 7 was presented as a one night screening event at UnionDocs in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, as well as on rotation in NURTUREart’s main gallery space from December 16-23, 2013. About the Curator: Nicholas O’Brien is a net-based artist, curator, and writer whose research revolves around the exploration of digital self and the relevance of landscape representation within network culture. His work has appeared internationally in Mexico, Berlin, London, Dublin, Italy, and throughout the US. He has also been featured in several publications including ARTINFO, Art F City, Sculpture magazine, Dazed Digital, The Creators Project, ilikethisart, Frieze d/e, the Brooklyn Rail, and the New York Times. He is currently living in Brooklyn working as a visiting professor and gallery director for the Department of Digital Art at Pratt Institute.

David Politzer, still from You Are Listening To Metallica Because, 2010-11. Video, TRT 06:57.

Joy McKinney, still from Touch Me, 2013. Video, TRT 02:53.

Magdalen Wong, still from Lite, 2010. Video, TRT 04:22.

Videorover: Season 8, Part #1 installation view. L to R: Victoria Keddie, Brendan Lee.

Dave Greber 5QĆ&#x201A;C 3WKTPQ

Victoria Keddie

Alona Rodeh

Derek Larson

Raul Valverde

Brendan Lee

Adam Douglas Thompson

Beatriz Meseguer

Season 8 curated by Rachel Steinberg

June 13 - November 21, 2014

Videorover, Season 8

The works in the eighth season of Videorover explore the idea of video as installation, highlighting the immersive potential that time based media hold. Through audio and visual tools and using the body as a reference point, this exhibition aimed to interrupt our exteroceptive senses. For three weeks in June, Videorover: Season 8 took over NURTUREartâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s main gallery space; opening in shifts for a series of three consecutive installations. Each installation featured three of the selected artists, to allow for the works to expand in the space, while still in dialogue with the larger group of works. The first selection opened on June 13, and includes works by Victoria Keddie, Brendan Lee, and Adam Douglas Thompson. Through dissection, reconfiguration and layering, their works harness the resonant fields of energy in the spaces they represent. This first selection tends to derail our intuitions, shifting between analog and digital tools, architectural models, or layered renderings. The transmission of physical and imagined/perceived space within these works is not what it originally

seems, inviting a deeper look. On June 20, the second installation opened, featuring artists Beatriz Meseguer, Alona Rodeh, and Raul Valverde, whose works are centered on conditions of light and absence as a common ground. Architectural in nature, the focus of this group turns to the empty gallery space, where small interventions create chaos in the truancy of human interference. Here, the unnoticed subtleties of a gallery become the center of our attention. The resulting calm is enveloping, shifting our perspective to the architectural. The third and final installation, which premeired on June 27, 2014, involved artists Dave Greber, Derek G. Larson, and Sofia Quirno. Relating again to the idea of reconfiguration, this time through humor, these works transformed the gallery into an almost unrelatable space. Deeply rooted in the uncanny, these works borrow from the sensibilities of painterly abstraction to create a space of overwhelming stimulus. Confronting us with a cocktail of comic absurdity and

Adam Douglas Thompson, Gallerie Effacement, 2014. Digital video, TRT 07:45.

mundane but somehow chaotic repetition, we are presented with the more vibrant potential of video. On the occasion of the third opening, NURTUREart presented: OTHER AUTHOR] > Ûi «iÀv À > Vi LÞ iÀi ° Larson and his puppet, which narrated a story in front of projected video. The puppet wears a white oxford shirt, no pants, } Ã V Ã > ` Ü>ÌV iÃ Ì i Û `i vÀ its laptop. The video is of two young men

Û } Ì i -Ü ÃÃ Ƃ «Ã >Ã Ì iÞ i Üi>Àing only white oxford shirts, no pants, high L >V Ã V Ã > ` V>ÀÀÞ } >«Ì «Ã° / iÞ½Ài Ãi>ÀV } Ì w ` Ü iÌ iÀ Ì iÞ >Ài LiÃÌ friends or the same person. The puppet watches and wonders if this was a video i½` Ì> i v Ì i ] À v i Ã i v Ì i men in the video, or both of them. This project was created while in residence at the European Graduate School in Saas Fee Switzerland.

Above: Installation view from Videorover: Season 8, Part #3. Dave Graeber (front), Sofia Quirno (back.) Opposite Page: Videorover: Season 8, Part #2 installation view. L to R: Beatriz Meseguer, Raul Valverde, Alona Rodeh.

Multiplicity: City as Subject/Matterr is an n international survey in surv vey off artworks sha sharing hari rin ng an interest in the politics and poetic potential of contemporary urban environments, exposing the irresistible pull off the similarities—intercultural meeting points, common problems, goals and dreams—around which people converge. The project was presented in New York as a series of four consecutive exhibitions exhibitions hosted by NURTUREart, Mixed Greens, INVISIBLE-EXPORTS an a and d Union Docs in the Summer of 2014.

Installation view from Multiplicityy (Part 2, Mixed Greens Gallery.) L to R: Alice Schivardi, Seher Shah, Irgin Sena, Jan Pfeiffer, Ƃ Ã } "½ i À ] À i Ã ° Ƃ Ã } "½ i À ] À i Ã °

Nadim Abbas, Erik Benson, BroLab, CPak Studio, Endri Dani, John Duncan, Yael Efrati, Todd Shalom (Elastic City), The Extrapolation Factory, Vibha Galhotra, Darren Goins, Michael Hanna, Meg Kelly, Nicholas Keogh, Alban Muja, Aisling Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Beirn, ,CP 2HGKHHGT 5CUEJC 2QJĆ&#x192;GRR )KIK 5ECTKC +TIKP 5GPC Alice Schivardi, Seher Shah, Sasa Tkacenko, and Amir Yatziv.

Multiplicity curated by Marco Antonini in collaboration with: Catalyst Arts, Hila Cohen-Schneiderman, Khoj International Artistsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Association, Eriola Pira, and Magdalen Wong.

Part 1: NURTUREart. From July 11 to August 25, 2014. Part 2: Mixed Greens. From July 24 to August 24, 2014. Part 3: Invisible Exports. From August 1 to August 27, 2014.

Installation view from Multiplicity (Part 1, NURTUREart Gallery.) L to R: Endri Dani, BroLab, Nicky Keogh, Erik Benson, CPak Studio, Vibha Galhotra.

Above: Jan Pfeiffer, Beyond Control, 2014. Wood, paint, cardboard, spotlight, video. Opposite page: John Duncan, image from the wÀiÃ ÃiÀ iÃ] Óään° ÌÞ«i «À Ì°

Aisling Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Beirn, And Other Storys, 2006 - 2014. L to R: Derry Diamond, Storys excerpt, Tower of Silence, NY Nicknames. Mixed media.

Darren Goins, Workout A (Dance), 2013. Digital video with sound, TRT 5:09 min.

Installation view from Multiplicityy (Part 3, INVISIBLE-EXPORTS Gallery.) L to R: Nadim Abbas, John Duncan, Yael Efrati.

Cities unite by bringing people together; sometimes they divide

for exactly the same reason. They are both abstract ideas and physical places, strategically sited to coincide with natural resources or created to materializ ze pure pu theory. the heor ory. y A city cit ity is a pla lace e ffor or individualism and exchange, materialize place solitude and commun nal living. lilving. Its name n me can engender ideals, both na communal successful and ffailed, ailed,, ris sin ng to rep prese s nt something beyond its own rising represent history and present/future r tensions and d aspirations, a total larger than the sum of its parts.

Cities contain multitudes that, as powerful and creative collective i Ì Ì iÃ] } Ûi vi Ì Ì i Õ Ì « V ÌÞ Ì >Ì Üi >Ûi ì Ì wi` >Ã Ì i V Ài Û> Õi i Ì Ì iÃ] } Ûi vi Ì Ì i Õ Ì « V ÌÞ Ì >Ì Üi >Ûi ì Ì wi` >Ã Ì i V Ài Û> Õi of every urban community. This force induces daily struggles and concerns, dreams as solid as concrete pillars, yet soft as grey matter: resources as w Ìi > ` Õ ÀiÃ Ûi` >Ã Ì i Õ > `° -ÕV ÀiÃ ÕÀViÃ V> Li i Ì iÀ ÛiÃÌ }>Ìi` > ` > ` >``ÀiÃÃi` >`` ` ÀiÃÃi` >Ã > Ü i À LÀ i ` Ü Ì ì«i ì Ì ì«i ì Ì ideas and images, personal concerns and local struggles that, although unique, will necessarily inform each other, presenting p esenting macroscopic pr similarities.

Cities are structured around largely internalized foundational ideals,

inviting (or inciting) contrasting notions of what sharing, protection, tolerance, competition, access, visibility, circulation, expansion, V Ûi i Vi] iÝV > }i] ÃiÀÛ Vi] «À wÌ > ` «À `ÕVÌ Û ÌÞ >VÌÕ> Þ i> ° i> ° This multitude of possible readings adds up to a global urban vocabulary stradd dling geographical and political boundaries. In this sense, Multiplicity straddling strives to present images and d ideas as different and distinctive as the urban contexts that originally inspired them, embodying the internal contradictions and boundless potential of small and large, young and old, meticulously planned and chaotically sprawling cities worldwide.

Irgin Sena, It started started started somehow (zoo), 2013. HD video, sound, dimensions variable, TRT 16.15 min.

Gigi Scaria, photo documentation of Someone left a horse on the shore, 2007. Digital print on archival paper, dimensions variable.

NURTUREart’s gallery attendance has been liter> Þ Ã ÞÀ V iÌ } Ì i «>ÃÌ Ì Àii Þi>ÀÃ° / Ã }À>« considers data relative to attendance of our exhibitions, special events, Videorover, Muse Fuse and education program gallery events between 2011 and 2013. The percentage increase in the three year span has been v £ x]{¯°

NURTUREart Non-Profit, Inc is a 501(c)3 New York State licensed federally taxexempt charitable organization founded in 1997 by George J. Robinson. 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. NURTUREart is grateful for significant past support from the Liebovitz Foundation and the Greenwall Founda-

tion, 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 benefitsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;our continued success would be impossible without your generosity.

Book Design: Marco Antonini and Ido Michaeli. Editing/Copyediting: NURTUREart Non Profit Inc. Images on pages 72, 74/75, 78, 80 by Etienne Frossard. Images on pages 22, 28 and 29: Andre Ramirez. All other Images, courtesy the artists and/or NURTUREart. Heartfelt THANKS to our volunteers: Douglas Campos, Virginia Cimino, Sarah Hart Corpron, Julia Foxworth, Jacqueline Kuper, Tzu-Huan Lin, Ido Michaeli, Julie Moon, Clayton Skidmore, Alissa Valeri.

Staff: Marco Antonini, Executive Director and Curator Louise Barry, Development Director Cody Rae Knue, Education Coordinator Molly Oâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Brien, Education Director Rachel Steinberg, Assistant Director

2013/14 Board of Trustees:

Inner Circle:

Karen Marston, President Carol Salmanson, Vice President Larry Mascera Heather Bhandari Deborah Brown Katherine Chapman Ian Cofre Liz Dimmit Asya Geisberg Christopher K. Ho Elliot Lable Renwick Paige Benjamin Tischer

Brooklyn Fire Proof Alma Egger and Orlando Diaz Ann and Lee Fensterstock Francis J. Greenburger Marianne and Ted Hovivian Deborah Brown and Eric Ploumis Sergio MuĂąoz Sarmiento

Advisory Board: Catherine Hannah Behrend, Bill Carroll, Christine Dobush, Ann Fensterstock, Susan Hamburger, David Harper, Jennie Lamensdorf, Julie McKim, Sarah Monteleone, Fraser Mooney, Lee Pacchia, Alexander Palmer, Alexander Rahul, Sara Reisman, Richard Stewart, Katarina Wong.