Trump Tower Writing

 ©2017 David Curtis

20 June 2017 NY, edits 27 June 2017

unspeakable things

“His anus smell like an old dollar bill” -Catherine Wagner, White Man Poems

Could (the) first family be anymore clearly an expression of predator capitalism? 

Are markets mostly what is left of democracy?

We are allowed limited access to this public garden today, limited in that if any of us starts singing, for example, we will be asked to stop, (refusing to stop we will be asked to leave). I am told (indirectly) if we need to go to the toilet, we will be accompanied by security persons, in number, who will witness us urinate (as they pretend to wash their hands).

(What then is activism during this administration?)

This (writing) is something I can do. Writing is inherently unspoken (non threatening to my suburban location). To remain polite, an extension of all movement in the city. (One is expected) To remain within acceptable levels of movement and expression. If I remove my clothing for example, the security guards will remove me. If I sing, removal, admonishment and/or then removal.

The heavily armed man carrying two Starbucks beverages. A show of commerce and weapons. We can come in but only here (the garden), now and in specific ways. I am a guest in this space. It was agreed to (the garden), a condition of the specter of the tower, incremental maintenance of one German named family as a brand. The presidency as a brand. The art of the deal artifice.

Is the president legitimate? Is this really public space?

Branded space, branded Trump, branded Starbucks. There is no ceiling here, no obvious security cameras. The opaque spandrel panels, the subtlety of a blue shirted maintenance worker, tipping the metallic tables and chairs to spill the nuisance waters.

As long as we play by the rules it is seemingly polite.

(There is no Bloody Mary available until after 11am.)

When will we be allowed to speak of what remains? The left assumes Trump can be removed when he cannot be reached for discussion? Even he disputes the validity of the election results. His version is perhaps that he would have had more margin except for the illegal votes cast. In his mind he clearly must be the winner because obviously the Clintons are corrupt.

No word of the hundreds of lawsuits against his actions, only how anything potentially effects his family business. The 1970s version of interior design that receives us. The flesh stone, the plated substitutes for gold, the multi levels of visible inclined transport. If you agree to allow this branding, you too can participate, receive momentary access to ascendancy. Be elevated for this specific moment as a concession for the implied monetary dominance his family projects. A projection of a fictional outcome. If one plays by these rules, one family projects its name on to surfaces of earth. The public is allowed this token concession.

Our group today is all white. We are two male, four female. We are two couples and two singles. One of us is an employee, so to speak, of one of the couples. I am a partner to the employee to one of the couples. I am half of one of the couples. At the moment there is no visible presence of security. The constant exhaust fan buffers the street sounds. If we (announcement: 4 minutes) remain in this space the constant fan noise would eventually degrade our ability to hear.

(in Casino, Joe Pesci and Robert De Niro meet in the desert with their hands covering their mouths so as not to be surveilled)

Understand, speech is to be limited. Nearly all restaurants do this. The omnipresence of music (despite your choice, against your will) an effect being to limit speech, limit cross speech (cross hearing) reduce the range of any one voice.

David Curtis, NYC

©2018 David Curtis

Dark Gallery at CAC

plan diagram on site photo, ©2005 David Curtis

David Curtis curated a sound installation during the 2005 season. Collaborators contributed sound pieces that were played in the space as they recycled. The duration of each piece was unique so they were overlapping in constant random manners.

Sometimes the gallery sitter would forget to turn on/restart some or all of the devices, or perhaps would do so intentionally to have a moment away from the sounds.

The show was accessible to blind audiences.

In the gallery talk DC said his intention was sound mixing in 3d in real time.

The whims of the gallery sitter and variables such as: volume control, device failure, power outages, or street sounds invading the show, made it constantly changing. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBsjLXcLYas&t=75s

©2018 David Curtis

orangutan WH webcam 24/7


CREDIT: NATURE PICTURE LIBRARY / ALAMY STOCK PHOTO

Sasha Grey, Neu Sex signing

sample from book cover

Sasha Grey, Neu Sex book signing at Martha Otero 5 May 2011
It’s difficult to imagine a more appropriate or intimate setting for this signing:
Correct neighborhood, residential scale, eye level hedges, serious door man…
Inside three smallish white rooms, share a continuous gabled ceiling, a small crooked line of interested humans, wait for autographed copies from the artist, Sasha Grey.
I glance around the room, but the cueing for the signing takes precedence, I get in line.
My peripheral vision and hearing realizes it is her or something like her, in a black full length dress.
I’m having difficulty focusing due to the heat and humidity, compounded by the gallery lights. It’s 90 degrees F. in West Hollywood today.
Then I actually look at her. Until now she has been a series of virtual images. So it is a bit odd to compare both printed photos with a live human, without really getting a good look at either.
But this is a book signing. I wait my turn.
Nearer the table I blurt: “Do you take plastic? Checks?”
Agent: “No, cash only.”
DC: “How much are the books?”
Agent: “$40”
DC: (to guard) “Is there an ATM nearby?”
Guard: “I don’t know, around the corner, at the gas station, down Melrose, there’s a (bank name) across the street”
(I leave for 15 minutes then return)
DC: “I would like to buy one book, please.”
Agent: (takes cash, slides book to SG)
SG: “Hello, what is your name?”
DC: “Hello…David…I am envious of your book.”

SG: “Oh, (writing) I think I messed up your name.”
DC: “That’s OK, I need a new name anyway.”
SG: (laughs)
DC: “Are you happy with how the book turned out? (I haven’t seen it yet)”
SG: “Yes”
DC: “Is this wall (painted wall behind SG) part of the show?”
SG: “Yes, it’s by the artist James Jean”
DC: “Jeans?”
SG: “Jean, he did the paintings of me in the other room.”
DC: “Are you still looking to hire a photo assistant?”
SG: “Eventually.”
DC: “I’m from LV, I’m sharing some space in Holsum with some people,
an architect, an art director and some artists/representatives.
Las Vegas has about 25% vacancy now in commercial so there are some deals.
(DC hands SG a card)
Well, thank you. Congratulations on the show.”
SG: “Thank you.”
(dead link to martha otero website)
I should perhaps discuss the actual work being shown at some point.
The photographs are self-described obsessive documentation of the artist during her porn mode.
She documents behind the scenes intimate moments existing separate from the scenes viewers are likely to consume in the porn films…cleaning up what looks to be vomit off the floor… a funny face in between shots.
In her book she observes that “men are incredibly insecure when it comes to their sexuality”.
There is a central piece on the main gallery wall, milky white with grayish impressionist solo figure.
I keep revisiting it for some reason.
To the left, a multi-colored work with a carnival theme insists repeated views.
I’m glad to see the works on walls but perhaps happier they exist now in a book to be revisited. I am glad to have visual confirmation that the artist is flesh and blood.
David Scott Curtis, 5 May 2011 from Las Vegas, NV

024_14a
SG at signing, video by DC

Guggenheim Forensic

I visited the corpse

wall trusses during construction, photo by David Curtis
forensic annotations

of the Rem Koolhaas designed Guggenheim Hermitage Museum in Las Vegas over the (native american genocide) weekend.

When this project was originally designed and constructed, I was a senior professional for the executive architect TSA of Nevada (the Stubbins Associates).

The internal truss (fully clad, both sides in 1/2″ corten) was fully suspended from the underside of the hotel tower. It has been reconfigured, if not completely removed.

Retail shops have been inserted into what is left of the corten shell.

A Hugo Boss store at the north end features one of the remaining exposed corten partitions. The remnant of the stone fireplace from the previous VIP lounge remains, a feature element in the new store.

On the exterior, nearly the entire work has been obscured by vinyl supergraphics of celebrity chefs.

Near the porte cochere, some corten remains visible as does a sliver of window, the laminated glass pin at the partition foot. The former, full height sliding glass and steel door is visible. A smaller, perhaps exit door has been cut in to it.

The (3) former rotating display walls are gone.

Vestige end display cases of glass occupy what would have been the ends of the rotating walls when paused in the East West direction.

One of the cases features a head shot of Grace Hartzel, perhaps a highlight of the remodeled interior.

On a positive note: The removal of the fully suspended East truss partition likely avoids an eventual structural collapse that the corten might have enabled. See also: rust is a thing.

And no, I did not work on this remodel.

I worked on the former museum from schematic design through construction admin. I flew to Rotterdam to provide assistance during the completion of the construction documents. I sketched all the roof details on the plane in pencil. I still have them.

I also served as a Gallery Educator for the Museum after it opened under Anita Getzler.

© David Curtis 2018

%d bloggers like this: