A black figure lying face down in the snow. A blue chair slowly descending from the sky.
Oddly shaped, trapezoidal, storefront windows, the floor elevated a few feet, windows on two sides framed in red, with the entrance to the gallery between them. They were a remnant of its previous existence as a shop, still retaining the old woodwork and glass. The walls had been painted white.
So I made the floor white, covering it with flour.
I thought to create a nearly still image, something that would change very slowly over the course of the evening of performances. The audience would be watching other works in the gallery, and only see the changes in my work when they came out to take a break or leave. The public passing by the windows also saw the performance.
I was lying face down on the white floor in one window. My arms and legs were outstretched, as though I might have fallen from above. I was still. Only occasionally did I adjust my limbs.
Over the course of the three hours, a pale blue wooden straight backed chair slowly descended from above in the other window. Its descent was nearly imperceptible. Lit by pure white light, it hovered in the air above before finally settling to the surface.
This was the first of three related works that I did at Rapid Pulse:
still. missing in 2012
still. waiting in 2015
still. here in 2019