Installation: selection of 50 archival inkjet prints from 150 found images Courtesy of the artist
While living in Berlin in 2007, the artist Marc Adelman noticed that many of the profile pictures on a local internet-dating site for gay men had been photographed at the city’s imposing Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. The photographs juxtapose casually posed, flirtatious figures with the severe abstract forms of the memorial. Adelman assembled 150 of these found photographs in grids that correspond to the memorial’s own serial columns.
I don’t think this is what they meant when they were talking about creative problem solving.
I have no idea what happened to me, or anybody else, in 2011. There’s a sharp memory of my second son’s birth in January, followed by a four-month haze of sleepless panic, and then… nothing. My job—like all news jobs nowadays, save for a few atavistic holdouts—works relentlessly at the mind, hammering it into a frictionless thruway for data, a machine-tooled aluminum tube for information to sluice through at maximum efficiency. Nothing lodges. All is evacuated to make way for the unceasing torrent of new stories being pumped into my cortex. My cache has been flushed.
Happy birthday, Rodney Dangerfield. We sure do miss you.
Chris Burden Meets Regis Philbin
PHILBIN: Why did you allow yourself to get shot?
BURDEN: It was a piece of sculpture, and it was the best thing I could think of doing at that time. That’s why I did it.
PHILBIN: [laughs] Chris has got me here. We’re gonna—hang in there Chris, and we’re gonna solve this together. As a piece of sculpture…
BURDEN: Right.
PHILBIN: You allowed someone to shoot you?
BURDEN: Right.
PHILBIN: With a gun?
BURDEN: Yeah.
PHILBIN: And in your mind, that was the sculpture, the result of you being shot.
BURDEN: No, just the moment when I was getting shot was the sculpture, just that instant when the bullet traveled from the gun into my arm. And then after that, it’s all over. That was the sculpture; it was less than a second.