Maybe in making art of resistance, we must accept and then ignore its contemporary inutility, its contemporary uselessness, its awkward, impractical, magnificent powerful pointlessness and instead communicate directly with a distant future we envision but may never see.
Read more »
What is the implication of constructing an aesthetic encounter with genocide? The still-palpable vitality of these phantomed spaces is a testimony to how large a shadow can be cast by mass murder. The dark shadows stretch on and on, but only because there is...
Read more »
The tint my hairdresser put in my hair will gradually work its way, over the years, down to the ends of my hair, and perhaps eventually it will be cut off. But IT will be in there, this morning in Berlin when I sat...
Read more »
May it be the Shechinah who dwells now at Terezin. I have nothing to say tonight.
Read more »
At the Spanish Synagogue in Prague today, extinction-porn tourists gathered round an unexpected attraction: schoolboys from Israel. “Look – LIVE Jews!!” As if a sabre-tooth tiger had appeared, or...
Read more »
On Sunday 11 July, the Oberpfälzer KünstlerHaus outside Regensburg, Germany, will exhibit my works-on-paper, and I will read from my recently-released book of photographs and a long prose poem: Schwarzer Tod...
Read more »
The painter and soul-brother-of-BumbleMoth Paetrick Schmidt and I have a month long two-person show opening this weekend at Schloss Plüschow on the beautiful Baltic coast here in Germany. Our ongoing collaborative...
Read more »
Last night I took the night train through Bavaria into Munich. I had the high bed, right at the top of the car. It was late, and we closed...
Read more »
This summer I am a resident artist in the very tiny village called Schwandorf …well, let’s just say “somewhere in Bavaria” and we...
Read more »
This morning I was taking photographs of the small tributary of the Danube that runs behind my studio, and when I turned around to adjust my films, I saw...
Read more »
Between my first and second day working at the Old Jewish Cemetery in Florence, someone came with a scythe and cut down the tall grasses – within hours the...
Read more »
Outside the gates of Florence, there is a small Jewish cemetery – crumbled and broken gravestones can be read only by a familiar eye. In this nearly abandoned and...
Read more »
