BEWARE OF DOG @ HPP
David Rothenberg: Untitled Produce, August 01 - September 15, 2024
Untitled (Apples), 27x40 inches, and other selected works from the series Untitled Produce
Untitled Produce is a series of photographs of the fruit and vegetable displays of the produce markets ubiquitous to the borough of Queens. The project examines a very specific and frustrating kind of space; the no man’s land for items that tumble down from overstocked produce displays and accumulate behind a market’s exterior windows. These vitrine-like photographs — of unintentionally generated still life subjects — were collected over the span of several years on daily walks throughout the borough. - David Rothenberg
David Rothenberg is a photographer and educator living in New York. In recent years, Rothenberg has made his home borough of Queens the subject of several major projects. His project, Landing Lights Park was published as a monograph by ROMAN NVMERALS and was named by TIME Magazine as one of the best photography books of the year. Rothenberg was the recipient of the PHOTO 2021 x Perimeter International Photobook Prize for his book Roosevelt Station. Rothenberg’s photographs have been published in The New York Times, Hyperallergic, Libération, Die Zeit and The New Yorker. His work is in the permanent collection of the Museum of the City of New York and numerous library special collections including the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, MoMA, and the Amon Carter Museum of American Art. Rothenberg received an MFA from Bard College and a BFA from Parsons School of Design.
__________
Previous exhibitions:
Alan Ruiz: Density, Jan 16 - May 19, 2024
WS-C1-5R6A (2023)
One-way glass, aluminum composite panel, aluminum extrusions, hardware, existing architecture.
Density consists of two works at 47-11 Vernon Boulevard in Long Island City, New York. WS-C1-5R6A (2023) occupies the storefront window of the building that exists at this address. WS-B46-L4 (2024) confronts the entirety of the building on this lot, as well as its immaterial limits, through a one-year lease of the property’s remaining air rights. Both areas – the window at street level and the space over the building – are defined by legal as well as social contracts that give them shape and inform the way they, in turn, reproduce the contours of public and privatized space. Such techniques of spatial partitioning structure relations of authority in everyday life. They participate in infrastructures that determine access and exclusion and often become fundamental to a group’s social production. They generate forms, environments, practices, and modes of perception that exert a normalizing effect, where the new and old are not only intermingled but wrestle for vertical authority.
Techniques of partitioning rely on standards—standards that are often perceived as benign (if they are perceived at all), as merely ways of establishing efficiency, compliance, and repeatability. Standards, either through soft law, zoning, or exterior building envelopes, may serve the ideal-ego of a dominant group, where obfuscation masquerades as transparency and organizational inclusion efforts produce wider forms of alienation.
Though standards and the socio-spatial choreographies they engender may appear functional and rational, they can also serve as covert social defenses, embodying the hardly conscious, irrational forces of a dominant group. Standards may be designed to ensure commensurability and safety within and across systems, yet, they can also be deployed to enforce homogeneity and exclusion, keeping the perceived dangers that evoke anxieties, such as difference and dissent, at bay.
- Alan Ruiz
_________
DW Fitzpatrick: tighten the belt, sweeten the pot
Photos: Ryan Page
tighten the belt, sweeten the pot
2023
74 X 40 X 14 inches
Everyone agreed when I suggested I write a thing. I said I would write a thing, and all nodded in agreement. Later that day, much too close to bedtime, I looked at a blinking vertical black line on the computer screen. I think it’s called a curser. I just looked it up- it is a cursor. I spelled it wrong. I do love a Freudian slip! Aren’t they the best? Idioms are great too. Birds of a feather, and all the others. Wikipedia says there are more than 25 million idioms in the modern English language.
My original intent was to title this new sculpture: “tighten the belt, sweeten the pot”. I still kind of like it, but not 100% sure. For now, it’s an open question. There is the obvious reference as the sculpture is belted. Right there, we are in a good place- because ‘belted’ is a great word.
I have recently lost weight (like 15lbs) due to not eating any carbs or dairy for 30 days. I have literally tightened my belt. Wikipedia says this idiom comes from the depression era. People at that time had less money, ate less food, lost weight and then had to tighten their belts. That is, men tightened their belts. Due to so-called you know what and you know who for years and years and years; women people weren’t able to easefully wear pants until the 1960’s in America. Wild!
And here we are with a yet-to-be-titled sculpture. Back to the bloody, stinking, winking, blinking cursor!
I think the whole thing might be a call to arms. Not that kind of arms. More of the human arm, with hand attached, doing things. I do know Montgomery Clift wore a gun belt extremely well in Red River. Hello! Glad to bring Monty into the room.
It’s more of a bundle of tools. A this and a that. A gathering up and getting to business. There is plenty to do and appreciate. With this flotsam and jetsam, situated in the most crafted, exquisite environs I could build, for your consideration.
DW Fitzpatrick
April 2023
_________
INAUGURAL EXHIBITION
James Hyde: Five Frescoes
Photo: Lucas Bourgine
Listed in clockwise order from the upper left
Fresco on styrofoam
12 x 9.5 x 6 inches
Part 2, 2002
Fresco on styrofoam
14 x 18 x 10.75 inches
Part, 2000-2021
Fresco on styrofoam
12.5 x 13.25 x 8.25 inches
Part 1, 2002
Fresco on styrofoam
15 x 10 x 7.5 inches
Part (scrubby), 2002-2021
Fresco on scrubby pads and concrete
8 x 10 x 11.75 inches