written works

”Face to Face” Ann Hamilton

Performance and series of photographs 3.5x10inches (framed 22x18 inches).



Ann Hamilton contains a small pinhole camera made from a plastic film canister inside her closed mouth; in the curve of a moist tongue, it tunnels between behind teeth. She stands or sits face to face with another. Her lips or shutters, open and expose, allowing in the outside light to react with the reflective properties of the hand cut film strip positioned within a canister. Eyes make contact, in a brief but revealing a stand still, unveiling breath and saliva. Her lips shut, conserving the material from overexposure.


Subsequently, the camera hole is covered and taken out in the dark where the film is developed. The image results in rectangular, black and white photograph 3.5X10 inches in size. The lips and the inner mouth, a thick black eye-shaped frame that surrounds the edges of the portrait. One may see a curve or the rounding of the image much like that of the Fisheye View (where the center of the photo is presumably closest while the rest recedes in distance towards the outer edges). The prints almost transpire from a matted black field, projecting outward towards the mouth, seemingly in an attempt on entering it. Through its point of view, the displaced eye seems as is simultaneously looking in and out. A persons face is in the middle-most of the frame, resembling the center of the eye or a pupil. Spirit-like shadowy figures stare back, as if in an exhale, light becomes a whisper.



This is not it.


This is a transcription. It is a theoretical experience. It is a connection of words and works that have been stolen, displaced, decontextualized and made to fit within the skeleton of a temporary, but permanent decomposing whale carcass.


It’s restructuring with scrapped rebars of ruins1. It’s “rest in peace” t-­‐shirts dedicated to those living2 on the gallows3 or dead-­‐meat rotting in Tiananmen Square4. It’s a product of taxidermy5, a remake of fallen icons6. It’s smoke rising from a Korean BBQ7.


It’s the prints made from blood in the name of honor8, mourning in a tent9, and washing ones hands with their fat10. It’s a bullet-­‐riddled car next to a police station11. It’s turning-­‐in the American Manifest Destiny for faking it12 and waving an all-­‐white American flag13. It’s drawing boundaries14 and mapping on crumbled flyers15. It’s how we couldn’t pay to see the Berlin Wall disappear16. It’s a collage in fabric, tracing, eraser and resistance of transnational histories threaded onto a child’s bedspread17. It’s objects and methods of survival18 planting the seeds on Lennon’s desk19.


Pushing the shopping cart full of pallets up a hill20, it’s a push against the gentrification of a pretty praire21. It’s 500 squatters22, a dedication to radical group23 and a portrait of gang members24. It’s building a Tower of Babel25 forty miles from the nearest city26. It’s throwing a coin in an unwishing well27 and asking, does this make me a bad person.28 It’s rewriting the word criticism29. It’s the repetition of a single voice becoming a choir30. It’s 150,000 bees in the shape of a human31, a reflection of a golden pentagon, sunken under the heat and pressure32.


It’s falling short, with access, and a broken website. It’s what is not included and why this isn’t translated in Creole. It’s not being able to live in a museum33, or carve a hole in its façade34, or build tunnels under city property35.


It’s pirated films36 and a compilation of video work lost-­‐by-­‐MOCA37. It’s a case of stolen art38. It’s access to proposals and studios. It’s an avatar39. It’s shifts in the role of curator, a response to scenarios, institutional frames, concerns and needs40. It’s a mystery. It’s joyful self-­‐defiance or cynicism41 and learning to work together42.


[by Cristy Almaida]



1Gavin Perry, Untitled 2014, 2 Cheryl Pope, One of Many, One 2014, 3 Kalan Sherrerd, World 2013 – 2015, 4 Guo Jian, Mock Tiananmen Square, 5 Violet Forest, Bass Cat 2015, 6 Luke Jillian Mayer/ Lucas Leyva and Luther Campbell, Life and Freaky Times of Uncle 2012, 7 Jason Hedges, Korean BBQ North VS South 2015, 8Pip Brant Hasenblut Series, 9Christina Pettersson, Mourning Tent, 10 Orestes De La Paz, Making Soap 2014 11Charles Linder, Ghostang, 12 Elisa Harkins, FAKE 13Frances Trombly, American Flag, 2012 14 Doğan Arslanoğlu, person pointing, place unknown, 2:57, orange glow, 15 Beatriz Monteavaro, Mother Superior Jump The Gun 2014, 16Kevin Arrow, Es gibt nur ein Berlin(There is only one Berlin) for Ida Siekmann 2014, 17 Gardner Cole Miller, Contact Zones: The sleepover; or isn’t this what you’re supposed to do? 2015, 18 Khadine Caines, Survival Instinct, 19Alex Yudzon, Desk 2014, 20 Barry Fellman, Wynwood Sisyphus, 21HICCUP-­‐ Hialeah Contemporary Art Project 22Seth Tobocman War In The Neighborhood 23James Concannon, Basing Street and Lancaster Road, London. 1968 2015, 24Michael Vasquez, Stash House 2009, 25Alejandro Bellizzi,, Art Babel 2015, 26 Sofia Valiente, Doug / Miracle Village, 27 Kubiat Mnamdie, Unwishing Well 2015, 28 Violet Forest, Does this make me a bad person? 2015, 29 Rob Goyanes, I will not write criticism. Or will I? 2015 30 Sleeper, The first time 2015, 31Jeroen Eisinga, Springtime 2010-­‐2011 32Sinista Kukec Zenithsluths 2014, 33Proposal by Misael Soto 34 Proposal by Eddie Arroyo, 35Propsal by Eddie Negron, 36 Magdiel Aspillaga & Ernesto Oroza "Marakka 2012”, 37Barron Sherer, I See A Selection From The Permanent Collection 2015, 38Autumn Casey, It’s a long way to the top, 2015, 39Adrienne Rose Gionta, Elizabeth 40 & 41Andrew C Horton, Meta-­‐Gallery, Iteration 2 42? Thank you Shaun Wright




Regarding Juana, a portrait by Jessie Liano, 2015

written by Cristy Almaida, 2016

Sixteen lamps

In absence of the shade the harps intend to hold

and the hands which rose the crests from the troughs

One, a familiar gold-trimmed painted flora stemming from where no one knows

Perhaps from within it holds the memory in a glass vacuum,

Where pinks bloomed to pale

White walls bleed out, fade to the brilliant scene

That rushes though strangers in streets

The path reweaving with frequency, rounded and valued,

And off the peaks and valleys it goes

Into the barn of the illustrated homestead,

Chipping at the paint that misses edges where texture bends

Into the the four-to-a-room, shared tv, nursing home eternity

Where it freckled and tarnished within that all too short time,

Reflecting a pale yellow porcelain smiley

Polished in parts the brass was kept

Like the urn above the mantel

Its pleats at the base, until the ground it meets

Scattered over a sand-blasted plaster cast turquois ocean

In this requiem, its thoughtful steps keep it from shattering

And is it a matter of the sun?

Whose energy is spiraling in tubes

The inert gas entering and escaping through resistors, insulators and eyelets

Sending in lightspeed, stretches, surges to this point of contact,

Where it all switches, twists into a fixture

Thrown to its finial, In a portrait

Dissolved in light of it all


Bill Bilowit invited me to operate/interact with Jessie Liano’s portrait of Juana at Context Art Miami as a part of Way Point - a portraiture series regarding Miami International Airport workers. 


The 16 lamps were spread out a foot apart, on the floor, in three rows of five.  Guests of the exhibit would suggest someone from their life, and they would be portrayed by my meticulously weaving in and out of the grid of lamps, switching them on and off. Engaging and internalizing for two hours around thriftily, acquired lamps at the bend of a corner.


Some turned on lamps for themselves, some for those that stand reliably/relatedly/relatively next to them, some to those far away, some to those who didn’t make it, from cancer or car wrecks, some “too young”, some “too old”. Some pressed within a turn, imagining lives and where all waypoints stretch.