Poetics of a Wall Projection

Page 1

Joseph Imhauser Poetics of a Wall Projection July 29 - September 17, 2017 Prattsville Art Center and Residency

Table of Contents Both Present and Elsewhere Nancy Barton and Joseph Imhauser

4 - 10

Taro Masushio

30 - 34

Notes on the Syntax of Art, Houses, and Space in General Nico Machida

36 - 41

Both Present and Elsewhere Nancy Barton and Joseph Imhauser

Interior #3 Legend Hill #3, 2007

I feel like in the country you can go into a house and see the natural world through the window and nothing else. Nature makes the man-made feel plastic and apocalyptic at times. When you look out at the world from the interior, nature feels like an illusion controlled by the comforts of our homes, our buildings, our cars. Being surrounded by nature is such an important part of my life. I imagine people feel similarly here in Prattsville. You can find these unregulated spaces where you can be with nature and listen and look deeper into yourself. The rural mountain town of Prattsville, NY was nearly washed away by Hurricane Irene in 2011. The creeks rose 16 feet in a few hours, dragging houses, trucks, propane tanks, and a whole trailer park down into the reservoir that sends New York City its drinking water. They are resting down there now in the soft dark mud that has settled over the remains of another village that was flooded in the last century, this time by people, during the construction of a dam that would create the northern reservoir of the Catskill watershed system. Joseph Imhauser first came to Prattsville as an Artist in Residence; walking down Main Street he said quietly, “The town I grew up in is just a little bit smaller than this.” Prattsville has a population of 200 these days, so people don’t usually talk about the idea of something smaller. There was something uncanny about the way he spoke, as if he was, at that moment, in that other, smaller place. He slowed his pace slightly, as if in recall, sensing that rural intersection between pastoral innocence and the harsher truth of sustenance—that it is rooted in dirt and blood and sometimes cruelty. Joseph’s work is most often both present and elsewhere. It offers up differing perceptions of reality and spaces to coexist. In Interior #107 Legend Hill Lace #1 (2017), a photograph of machine-made lace curtains speak of a humble, even utilitarian approach to adornment. Yet within these sparse lace panels, each stitch forms a segment of an oblique angle creating a web of vanishing points, an endless series of planes of perspective. The threads are the color of clouds and concrete, and behind the fabric there is a lightness or a landscape maybe or perhaps a barn roof. The picture offers just enough distance to let you know there is a solitude on both sides of this simple curtain, woven into a cosmology of tiny interlocking threads. Raw spaces are the first casualties of consumption and they have the most fruits to bear. Unattended, these open spaces become boundaries or walls that separate us from one another. Community requires a companionship that relies upon dedicated space and room for respect. Without access to this open and unregulated space, we get pulled apart.

In physics, topologies and metrics describe elements of a set in relation to each other. Through abstraction and archaeology, fragments and geometric forms, Joseph’s project assembles a set of maps that trace a journey from rural America along the edge of an abyss; an interior of a farmhouse bedroom caked in paint that is smeared up the walls like silt from the rivers that rose too fast and left their muddy entrails spread across floors and couches. The room in the painting, Interior #3 Legend Hill #3 (2007), looks to be a total loss, but out the window one still sees horses and a pond and sun. A lace curtain of dystopian idealism, woven from the inside out. I’m in the situations but I’m outside of them at the same time, between lives. That’s always been the case for me and has created feelings of alienation but also with the ambition to share more, to give more and shed light on the oddness of the between. The experience of being within and outside is queer, yet to be a stranger at home perhaps also allows one to be at home as a foreigner. In his travels, whether in Prattsville or Paris, Joseph has excavated the walls of timeworn dwellings, mining brittle sheets of wallpaper and layering intersecting planes of color over and beneath peeling papers and their flowering patterns. These works can be large, yet they are held to the wall with simple push pins, as open and vulnerable in the gallery as they were in their aging domestic settings. The idea that the wallpaper crumbles is important. There are some more fragile than others, but you see the signs of deterioration in all of them. You know the facade they propose is not real beyond paper and ink. These wallpapers take us past our physical reality and pull us into the psychic because they are already layered with emotions and energetic residue from their previous homes. The same way the wallpaper hides the flaws in the lath and plaster behind it, each layer of wallpaper becomes one collective reality. I like when an artwork alludes to the fact that there is something happening under the surface, the same way the wallpaper acts— as if the layers all exist within one reality and they are keeping you from something. What is that something? “In the majority of sparsely populated US counties, more people died than were born.” This is a marker of socio-economic decline that has taken root across rural communities. Prattsville has lost its share this season, two to suicide within a month. Their passing brings forth the histories of others: an aunt, a father, a brother. One woman simply says, “the mountain takes them.” There is a sense of weight and urgency to things that might seem trivial. There is pride because there is little else. Sometimes there is confusion and a desire for retribution. There can be cruelty.

All actions, from the revolutionary act to the everyday act, fall into the same spectrum. We cannot be sure in the moment what makes a revolution and what is an everyday act. You could wake up one morning and drink your first cup of coffee like you always do, but let’s say this time it’s poisonous - now suddenly drinking coffee becomes a revolutionary act. This act forces you to embrace both the accidental and the responsibility and causes you to remember what’s important to your body as well as your heart and soul. We face so many illusions every day; love and growth are what we need to find within ourselves to overcome those illusions. In Interior #118 ACT (2017), Joseph finds a fragment of wallpaper whose pattern shows a wall, which is, in turn, covered in green patterned wallpaper. Its homey cheerfulness creates a deceptively simple design that doubles its complex reality. On the pattern of the wallpaper, two muskets hang over a stone hearth. On this wallpaper fragment reads one word inscribed in thin handwritten capital letters: “ACT”. This work is time-sensitive. It exhorts its viewers, who are living in a period of political upheaval, to act swiftly and to protect—the environment, the disenfranchised and those who would become victims of violence and prejudice. This vernacular country hearth, with its guns, harbors menace also. Seen from a different subjective position, the piece doubles in meaning as well as form. From an opposing political perspective, this call to action could be read as a call to bear the very arms it shows us. The piece shifts us away from the idea of vigilante justice through abstraction. Planes of copper and violet fields of color pull the sensibility of the work back from that ledge while the tension and choice lingers for the audience.

Previous: Interior #107 Legend Hill Lace #1 (detail), 2016

Previous: Interior #44 Corse, 2012

Interior #40 Blue Portal, 2012

Interior #68 Invisible Walls #1, 2014

Interior #57 Stained Glass Black Hole, 2013

Interior #8 Margaret Behrens #3, 2008

Previous: Bird Migration in the Americas #2, 2012, Interior #63A (Barfusstr. #20), 2013; BarfusstraĂ&#x;e studio, Berlin, 2013

Core #11, 2016

Space Model #24, Invisible Layered Corners #2 #3, 2017

Expand Collective Awareness, 2016

Genesis, 2015

Dizzied and aghast, I recall a scene from a book I once read as an impressionable teenager; a fisherman casts a line into the ocean – only there is no hook at the end to catch the fish. But the moment the bait hits the smooth surface of the water and submerges into the opaque and voluminous depth of the ocean, the trianglation forms emptiness. Here the script turns on itself, and displaces the existing course of flight. The fish must not be caught.

Joseph Imhauser’s walls are like the ocean, existing not as a totality filled with subjects and objects, signs and referents or what-haveyou – but rather as a place waiting to be ravished of its promiscuous anima. He paints the walls while avoiding actually painting them - the tautological act of painting a wall on a wall pronounces its synthetic facture, negating any claim to the real. They are fraudulent – for a reason; so a fiction can be enacted. But the paintings conceal this negation beautifully; there is an abundance of gestural marks; the lines, the colors, and the wallpapers - the built-in aestheticism reassures us with the aureate and flowery impressions of dusty rose, baby blue, avocado green; “there is something there” (one might even say there is something else there – an arrow, not a point) – an alluring rendition of perspectival multiplication, dimensional ambiguties, and loose geometries; a wealth of interpretative reservoir for the Epicureanism of the voracious voyeur. The surface is sublime. Bliss. But I’m drawn to the works’ tidal expanse of interiority - where I sense a kind of cataclysmic implosion.

We are to be both deceived and convinced. The beautiful exterior is an unreliable guide, liberated from the compulsion to indiscriminately illuminate anything and everything, it produces the dark corners of myths. No explanations would be necessary. In the 2012 piece, Interior #50 (80 Washington Square), the flooring extends onto the walls. The walls double, triple, maybe quadruple and more – a failing arithmetic, or a witchy-alchemy? And in one corner is a line of undifferentiated quanta of colors. Energy.

I am reminded of Stanley Brouwn’s Walking through Cosmic Rays, where there was “nothing” in the exhibition. Nothing, of course, is emptiness. But then there is this thought “Form does not differ from the void, and the void does not differ from form. Form is void and void is form; the same is true for feelings, perceptions, volitions and consciousness” from the Heart Sutra. Cosmic rays, or muons, subatomic particles that penetrate matter and normally invisible to human vision, were used in an attempt to map the interior of the Egyptian Pyramids in 2016.


The physicist, Bruce De Palma, was often derided for his theorization and invention of the n-Machine, which effectively generated energy from nothing; the ultimate renewable energy source. Paramahamsa Tewari, following De Palma’s footsteps in using the gyroscope machine, states “The energy-balance shows that the output exceeds input by 3690 watts, which is in violation of the law of conservation of energy in this specific experiment involving electro-magnetic induction effect.” Dubious, but no, that does not matter. There is something in nothing, however violent it might be. Let me return to the fish that was never caught. The fish was never there, yet because of my writing “the fish” it verifies its existence. The myth is a temporal confusion, a time machine which is also a genesis, the linearity of time is fucked, and the future seeps in and merges with the present. Imhauser’s words; “another time on top of time appears.” I’m teased. Like the future soiling the present, whatever is beyond the walls seeps into our vulnerable consciousness, unbeknownst and formless. A soft, delightful perversion. Is this the oceanic? Mother. Spasm and birth. And so I ravish the space that is not there but must be there.

PS When asked about the hook, the fisherman answered, “It helps me think.”

Taro Masushio

Invisible Layered Walls #15, 2016

Notes on the Syntax of Art, Houses, and Space in General Nico Machida

What follows are a few notes on reading space semantically, and on the differing implications of this procedure for art on the one hand and architecture on the other. These notes are organized around the observation that the “semantic turn” in discourses on art, architecture, and urbanism (roughly datable to the 1960s–70s, the immediate prehistory of postmodernism) has thus far been taken for granted as a transdisciplinary keyword without much sustained attention to a structuring question: What does a semiology of space do for art that it cannot do for buildings, and vice versa? On one side we will consider architect Jan Turnvoský’s 1985 essay “Die Poetik eines Mauervorsprungs” (whose English translation, “The Poetics of a Wall Projection,” gives this exhibition its title), as a model for analyzing the syntax of architecture.1 On the other side we will take up artist Robert Smithson’s 1967 essay “Towards the Development of An Air Terminal Site” for its discussion of the “syntax of sites” in relation to artworks.2 And because this is ultimately a text about art, we will mobilize this comparison to set forth a few ways in which artworks engage with and intervene into the syntax of everyday space. What is the historical background of such an impulse? During the 1960s–70s, various discourses sought to re-describe space as the product of a predictable yet malleable syntax. In the work of numerous artists, architects, planners, academics, and critics, surfaces and volumes (both projected and real) became a language that organized the production of artworks, buildings, sites, cities. Structure, in other words, became an aesthetic, in a radical translation of linguistic theory into the production of form at various scales. Such diverse semantic analyses as urbanist Kevin Lynch’s categorical elucidation of urban circulation patterns; architects Robert Venturi, Denise Scott-Brown, and Steven Izenour’s visual cartography of Las Vegas as a systematized landscape of symbols; artist Carl Andre’s syntactical re-description of sculpture “as place”; critic Rosalind Krauss’ mapping of oppositional terms to re-describe the categorical relationship between sculpture, architecture, and landscape have been grouped by scholars under the vast conceptual banners of systems thinking, ecological theory, or, simply, postmodernism. Yet, as has only recently been articulated, the broader context of this simultaneous address to the syntactical logic of space in several aesthetics-based discourses was not only a general move towards interdisciplinary practice during the 1960s (what Jack Burnham famously called “systems aesthetics.”). It was also a specific response to the scale of real-time spatial remodeling launched by vast postwar infrastructure and planning projects, a fundamental historical revision of the syntax of space itself.3

Greenpoint studio, Brooklyn, NY, 2016 Interior #94B (20 rue Cuvier), 2015 Interior #100 (250 Greenpoint Avenue), 2016 Interior #101B (2455 County Route 2), 2016

For example, Smithson developed the term “syntax of sites” in relation to his 1966–67 work as artist consultant on the preliminary engineering of the Dallas-Fort Worth Regional Airport, the largest airport ever conceived at the time and a potent symbol of the broad redrawing of land and air-based transportation networks then underway. Engaging with schematic proposals to transform a Texas prairie into a global infrastructural node, as visualized in the airport master plan, Smithson detected the terms of a radical revision in the conception of space. He abstracted the airport project into a historical rule, reading it categorically as the manifestation of the new scale and logic of spatial production. The syntax of sites described a revelation of the cultural surface of the earth as an artificial, rule-bound construction. Massive infrastructure projects such as the Airport were revising the fact of the earth, in other words, inventing a new type of site that in turn prompted new modes of representation. To Smithson, this widespread cultural process was not only technical, but also structural in the most basic sense, both a projection of future space and an exposition of the fundamentals of spatial production: “Points, lines, areas, or volumes establish the syntax of sites,”4 Smithson wrote in 1967, based on his sense that now “all air and land is locked into a vast lattice.”5 He proposed art as a means of both representing and structurally intervening into this new condition of spatial production: Before infrastructure was a utility, it was pure aesthetic potentiality, a vast earthwork. Though Turnovský came of age intellectually during the 1970s, in rough simultaneity with the appearance of Smithson’s realized works, his 1985 essay “Poetics” is a conscious historical return, not only to the postmodern architectural moment of Venturi’s writing and the work of Aldo Rossi and Peter Eisenman, but also to a much deeper--and specifically fin-de-siècle Viennese--intellectual history encompassing Sigmund Freud, Karl Kraus, and Adolf Loos. Put succinctly, this latter body of criticism involved extrapolating a set of theories from extended observation of minute detail. Freud’s dream-work, in which a key mental image unlocks the dimensions of an entire critical schema, is perhaps the most famous example of such a method. Yet Turnovský’s late contribution to the mode brings in the semantic lessons of these decades in aesthetic theory and criticism as well: The Mauervorsprung of his title appears as a minor architectural detail of the breakfast room in Vienna’s Stonborough House, originally schematized by architect Paul Engelmann for Margarethe Stonborough-Wittgenstein and her family yet primarily designed by the client’s brother, philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein.

Most strikingly, Turnovksý reads this detail not in situ, as if he were standing before it (it is not clear that Turnovský has ever visited this site, in fact), but rather as it appears in Wittgenstein’s floor plans. And there it appears, in an overall plan that reads with a remarkable degree of spatial intelligence, as a sort of glitch in the system of rooms and walls, a “sub-concept.”6 It exists in order to deliver the appearance of symmetry in the room interior, yet is structurally insignificant. It negotiates, rather awkwardly, the meeting of two masses within Wittgenstein’s parti. Turnovský extrapolates from this single architectural detail a theory of the visible and invisible negotiations between program, tectonics, and aesthetics at play in the house as a whole. It is a revelation of the site’s “potential ambivalence,” which is to say the potential precariousness of any two spaces meeting in order to be joined.7 In his text, Turnovsky returns to the Mauervorsprung again and again, obsessively, in order to re-describe and reanalyze and reinvent it. By essay’s end, we have the sense that Turnovský is returning to the Mauervorsprung in order to extract that which it has repressed (for architecture): The fecund aesthetic object, perfectly distilled. With these two cases now (provisionally) in place, let us venture the following observations: Perhaps semantic thought at times allows the critic of buildings to further objectify and aestheticize her subject, to specify its nucleus, as if through a camera lens. On the other hand, reading art semantically puts the artwork into more intimate contact with the political, social, and historical production of space, something art has strongly desired since the 1960s at least. The first impulse is one of consolidation: this is the key detail, here is the building’s meaning. An inversion, then, the container that is architecture having become graspable. The latter is syntactical in the sense of forging structural links, or correspondences, within a system of sites. Joseph Imhauser’s art does this kind of work--to bring incommensurable spaces into something like an enfilade of accumulation. Its spatial politics are bound to the wall. After Smithson, it sees art as both window and map. After Turnovský, it sees architectural detail both in profile and en face.8

Jan Turnovksý, The Poetics of a Wall Projection (London: AA Publications, 2009). Robert Smithson, “Towards the Development of an Air Terminal Site,” in Jack Flam, ed., Robert Smithson: The Collected Writings (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996). 3 See Julian Myers, “Earth Beneath Detroit.” In Philipp Kaiser and Miwon Kwon, eds., Ends of the Earth: Land Art to 1974 (Munich: Prestel, 2012). 4 Smithson, 55. 5 Ibid., 54. 6 Turnovský, 36. 7 Ibid., 85. 8 Ibid., 106. 1 2

Installation view: NYU MFA 2012, 80WSE Gallery, New York, 2012 Interior #50 (80 Washington Square East), Recipes #3-6, 34 Cannonball Fruits

Interior #93B (2455 County Route 2), 2015

Interior #94B (20 rue Cuvier), 2015

Interior #105B (2455 County Route 2 #3), 2016

Interior #56 Galaxy #1 #2, 2012

Interior #119, 2017

Interior #61 Alex, 2013

Interior #120, 2017

Interior #118 Act, 2017

Published Works:

(Front Cover) Poetics of a Wall Projection Installation view, 80WSE Gallery, New York, 2012 Ink on paper Interior #50, (80 Washington Square East), 2012 8 x 8 inches Recipe #3 #4 #5 #6, 2012 Private collection 34 Cannonball Fruits, 2012 Interior #3 Legend Hill #3, 2007 Invisible Layered Walls #15, 2016 Acrylic, c-print and oil on handmade paper Pencil on paper 4 x 6 inches 50 x 65 centimeters Collection of Marcel Musters, Amsterdam Interior #107 Legend Hill Lace #1, 2017 Dye-sublimation on aluminum, Ed. 2/3 Cultivate Focus (detail), 2017 24 x 20 inches Chromogenic print on metallic paper, Ed. of 3 16 x 20 inches Interior #44 Corse, 2012 Mixed media on paper Greenpoint studio, Brooklyn NY, 2016 6 x 12 inches Interior #94B (20 rue Cuvier), 2015 Interior #100 (250 Greenpoint Avenue #1), 2015 Interior #40 Blue Portal, 2012 Interior #101B (2455 County Route 2 #4), 2016 Mixed media on paper mounted to wood 10 x 8 inches Interior #93B (2455 County Route 2), 2015 House paint on wallpaper, pins Interior #68 Irridescent Walls #1, 2014 46 x 90 inches Acrylic and Gouache on paper 11 x 10 inches Interior #94B (20 rue Cuvier), 2015 House paint on wallpaper, pins Interior #57 Stained Glass Black Hole, 2013 108 x 148 inches Ink and colored pencil on paper 8 x 10 inches Interior #105B (2455 County Route 2 #3), 2016 House paint on wallpaper, pins Interior #8 Margaret Behrens #3, 2008 83 x 121 inches Mixed media on paper mounted to wood 16 x 16 inches Interior #56 Galaxy #1 #2, 2012 Mixed media on paper BarfusstraĂ&#x;e studio, Berlin, 2013 9 x 12 inches Interior #63A (Barfusstr. #20), 2013 Interior #119, 2017 Bird Migration in the Americas #2, 2013 Gouache on wallpaper Colored pencil and gouache on National Geographic map 9.5 x 11.5 inches 42 x 30 inches Interior #61 Alex, 2013 Core #11, 2016 Mixed media on paper Ink on watercolor paper 7.5 x 13 inches 16 x 20 inches Interior #120, 2017 Space Model #24 Invisible Layered Corners #2 #3, 2017 Gouache on wallpaper Dye-sublimation on maple plywood, ed. 2/3 3.75 x 10.5 inches 16 x 24 inches Private Collection Collection of Nancy Barton, New York Interior #118 Act, 2017 Expand Collective Awareness, 2016 Gouache on wallpaper Gouache and ink on paper mounted to wood 6 x 11 inches 10 x 8 inches (Back Cover) Genesis, 2015 Interior #121 Green Portal, 2017 .gif transferred to UHD on monitor, Ed. of 3 Gouache on wallpaper Continuous loop, dimensions variable 13 x 11.5 inches

Joseph Imhauser b. 1981 Sedalia, MO Education 2013 Post-Graduate Fellow, Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne, Paris, France 2012 MFA, NYU Steinhardt, New York, NY 2005 BFA, California Institute of the Arts, Valencia, CA 2002 AA, State Fair Community College, Sedalia, MO Solo Exhibitions 2017 Poetics of a Wall Projection, Prattsville Art Center, Prattsville, NY 2014 144 Gross, Nowhere Kitchen, Berlin, Germany 2011 Living Room with Twelve Corners, Popup Projects, Los Angeles, CA how ounces become tons, curated by Ann Chwatsky, Puck Building, NYU Wagner School of Public Policy, New York, NY Group Exhibiitons 2017 Intoto 5, organized by Thomas Fougeirol, Passage de la Fonderie, Paris, France The Book of the WORD, curated by Michael Petry, Helsinki Contemporary, Helsinki, Finland State of Wonder, Agencia de Arte at Corredor Cultural Roma-Condesa, Mexico City, Mexico 2016 Collectiva #3: Todo en Orden, curated by Lara Balderrama, Celaya Brothers Gallery, Mexico City, Mexico Rican/Struction: Abraham Cruzvillegas y Amigos, Galería Agustina Ferreyra, San Juan, Puerto Rico Anti-Aufklärung II, Point Éphémère, Paris, France 2015 Cabinet de Curiosités Pt. 3, editions antoine lefebvre, Paris, France A various sundry of itemized gifts, organized by Pepe Dayaw, Teatro Munganga, Amsterdam, Netherlands EXIT: Cartographia de la Creatividad, curated by Lara Balderrama, Museo de Arte de Sinaloa, Culiacán, Mexico Roulade Magazine: The Hubris Issue, Husk Gallery, London, United Kingdom 2014 If We Carry On Speaking the Same Language to Each Other, We Are Going to End Up Repeating the Same History, curated by Flora Katz and Mikelea Assolent, PARMER, New York, NY Homeland, Prattsville Art Center, Prattsville, NY
 Half-Baked Antithesis, curated by Taro Masushio, +81 Gallery, Brooklyn, NY
 Joy Syringe, A pollination of the 2014 London Biennale, 321 Gallery, Brooklyn, NY 
 Body Politics, curated by Christina Thomolopolus, EMBROS Free Theatre, Athens, Greece Inaugural, 321 Gallery, Brooklyn, NY 2013 Il est amusant de prendre le train pour les petites villes, curated by Antoine Lefebvre, Immenance, Paris, France Fishing in the Dark, Violet’s Café, New York, NY
 How About Now, Popup Projects, Los Angeles, CA 2012 NYU MFA 2012, 80WSE Gallery, New York, NY Paysages, Atelier Eléonore Josso, Paris, France 2011 The Postcard, curated by Agnes Lux, Rosenberg Gallery, New York, NY Collective Show - Los Angeles, 995+997 North Hill Street Los Angeles, CA Revolution of Everyday Life, Galerie Michel Journiac, Paris, France 2010 Elysian Park Museum of Art, Los Angeles Contemporary Exhibitions, Los Angeles, CA
 Diversions, curated by Akina Cox, Elysian Park Museum of Art, Los Angeles, CA Portrait Projects, curated by Terry Chatkupt, Five Thirty Three, Los Angeles, CA Benefit Show, Dan Graham, Los Angeles, CA Lifesize, Monte Vista Projects, Los Angeles, CA 2009 Playhouse, 4321 Atlantic Blvd, Long Beach, CA 2008 Artbang: Im Anfang War Der Urknall, .HBC, Berlin, Germany Hell-o from Hell-a, Norma Desmond Productions, Los Angeles, CA 2007 Sculpture Brunch, Justin’s Museum of Contemporary Art (JMOCA), Los Angeles, CA Novo Video de Los Angeles, Teatro Oficina, São Paulo, Brazil Performances and Screenings 2017 Consensus Fetish IV Lyeberry HQ, Brooklyn, NY Gemtactics, Headed for the Hills Music Festival, Prattsville, NY Gemtactics, Accompniments, Unnameable Books, Brooklyn, NY Gemtactics, White Heat, Marc Straus Gallery, New York, NY 2016 Sailboat Repeat, Dark Adaptations, 80WSE Gallery, New York, NY

Performances and Screenings continued 2016 Gemtactics, Marc Straus Gallery, New York, NY C’est de L’eau, performed by Karim Bensalah, Anti-Aufklärung II, Point Éphémère, Paris, France 2015 Cannibalism Alone Unites Us, with Nancy Barton and Patrick McGuinn, Between Night (Briefly), Widow Jane Mine, Rosendale, NY Consensus Fetish II, Agora, Berlin, Germany Cannibalism Alone Unites Us, with Niko Solorio, Teatro Munganga, Amsterdam, Netherlands 2014 Consensus Fetish I, Floating Library, New York, NY Quantum Healing Technology is Upon Us, Cratér Intertido, Mexico City, Mexico 144 Gross, Nowhere Kitchen, Berlin, Germany Luckyday, lyeberry #14: Diasuerte, Cratér Invertido, Mexico City, Mexico Luckyday, lyeberry #13: Luckyday Potluck, organized by Laura Copelin, Santa Monica Museum of Art, Santa Monica, CA The Three Witches, Utopias and Realities, curated by Graciela Cassel, Transborder Art at Anthology Film Archives, New York, NY 212 Pliés in first position, Body Politics, EMBROS Free Theatre, Athens, Greece 2013 This is Water, KCHUNG Radio, Los Angeles, CA Summer is Not the Prize of Winter, a relay performance by Alex Cecchetti, Shanaynay, Paris, France 2012 Warm House, After Set Film Series, Tribeca Grand Theater, New York, NY 2010 First USPS Airmail Pickup, Sedalia, MO May 18, 1938, Northwest Film Center, Portland, OR First USPS Airmail Pickup, Sedalia, MO May 18, 1938, Driven by What’s Inside, organized by Elana Mann, Side Street Projects, Pasadena, CA First USPS Airmail Pickup, Sedalia, MO May 18, 1938, A Very Loud Silence, organized by Avantika Bawa, Aquaspace, GA 2009 Playhouse, choreographed with Bahareh Ebrahimzadeh, 4321 Atlantic, Long Beach, CA Awards and Residencies 2016 One Room Practice, Practice, New York, NY CBG Residency, Mexico City, Mexico 2014 YoYoYo Inititive (Lyeberry), Rema Hort Mann Foundation, Los Angeles, CA Nowhere Kitchen, Berlin, Germany Prattsville Art Center and Residency, Prattsville, NY 2012 Franco-American Exchange Fellowship, Fondation Carla Bruni, Paris, France Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne, Paris, France 2011 Popup Projects, Los Angeles, CA 2009 Shared Discovery of What We Have and Know Already, a seminar organized by Haegue Yang, Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, MN Publications and Interviews The Word as Art ed. by Michael Petry (London: Thames & Hudson, 2018). Forthcoming. Practice x Wind ed. by CIci Wu, Wang Xu and Ho King Man (New York: Practice, 2018). Poetics of a Wall Projection Joseph Imhauser (Prattsville: PAC Publishing, 2017). Things That We Leave Behind j.frede (New York: Lyeberry Press, 2017). We Will Hold You Responsible (New York: Protest Postcards vol. 1, 2017). Greenpoint artists book w/G. William Webb (New York: Lyeberry Press, 2016). IntuiTalk | a conversation with Joseph Imhauser (Ubud: Kevin Yee-Chan Intuitive Art, 2016). Collectiva #3: Todo en Orden ed. by Lara Balderrama and Jimena López (Mexico City: Celaya Brothers Gallery, 2016). Marcel Broodthaers Fanzine Joseph Imhauser (Paris: antoine lefevbre editions, 2016). insert. Blind Forces Cannot Organize Themselves into Intelligently Structured Objects Joseph Imhauser (Paris: antoine lefevbre editions, 2015). EXIT: Cartographia de la Creatividad ed. by Lara Balderrama (Culiacán: Museo de Arte de Sinaloa, 2015). The Hubris Issue ed. by Llew Watkins (London, Roulade Magazine, 2015). Jake Borndal’s Squid Sheek vol. 1 ed. by Jake Borndal (Richmond: VCU Art, 2015). Utopias and Realites ed. by Graciela Cassel (New York: Transborder Art, 2014). Díasuerte ed. by Lyeberry with translation by Freddy Levia (Los Angeles: Lyeberry Press and Cratér Invertido, 2014). Luckyday ed. by Lyeberry (Los Angeles: Lyeberry Press and Santa Monica Museum of Art, 2014). Body Politics ed. by Christina Thomopoulos (Athens: EMBROS Free Press, 2014). Issue #6: Anticipation ed. by Mia Nolting and Rachel Peddersen (New York: Andreview, 2013). Future Definition (a visualization) Le Carré 8 (Paris: La Bibliothèque Fantastique, 2013). Mammut Magazine #5 ed. by Matthias Merkel-Hess and Roman Jaster (Los Angeles: Mammut Magazine, 2013). 2 + 1: a collaborative interview project ed. Rachel Peddersen (Portland: Publication Studio, 2012). Surf’s Up: The Aesthetics of Disappearance ed. by Bob Nickas (New York: White Column Publications W.C. #39, 2011). LBF #2 Antoine Lefebvre and Joseph Imhauser (Paris: La Bibliothèque Fantastique, 2011). Paper Control ed. by Andria Hickey (Minneapolis: Walker Art Center, 2011).

Articles and Reviews 2017 ‘Thomas Fougeirol’s Magic Intoto Pop Ups’ by Matthew Rose, Artblog, December ‘Buscan reactivar comercia en la Roma’, by Lourdes Zambrano, Reforma, Mexico City, Mexico ‘Postcards from America’ at Celaya Brothers Gallery, ArtNews, web. Prattsville Art Center, Arts Alive/Greene County Council for the Arts, print and web. En bokstavlig och lättillgänglig grupputställning, by Helen Korpak, Hufvudstadsbladet, print and web. From Beaded Portraiture to Brainwave Drawings, Favorites from Greenpoint Open Studios, by Seph Rodney, Hyperallergic, web. Ryhmänäyttely: The Book of the WORD, by Michael Petry, Helsingin Uutiset, print and web. 2016 Todo en Orden (Colectiva No. 3), COHETE Textos de Arte Contemporáneo en Mexico, web. CELAYA BROTHERS GALLERY: La Revolución de las Galerías de Arte en la CDMX, by Clara Marbán, Melí Meló, web. Celaya Brothers Gallery: Una fresca propuesta estética, by Sergio Pérez Gavilán, Vice | The Creators Project, web. Celaya Brothers presenta ‘Todo en orden’, by Christian Mendoza, Indie Rocks, web. Celaya Brothers Gallery opens group exhibition, Artdaily.org, web. Rican/Struction: Abraham Cruzvillegas y Amigos, Terremoto, print and web. 2015 Tres exposiciones este mes en El Masin, by Lara Balderrama, El Debate Abre en el Museo de Artes de Sinaloa Cartografía de la Creatividad, Critica Politica, web. Viven el arte del mundo en El Masin, Linea Directa, web. 2014 If We Carry On Speaking the Same Language to Each Other, We Are Going to End Up Repeating the Same History, by Cheyanne Turions, web. Utopias and Realities, by Kathleen MacQueen, Shifting Connections, web. Joy Syringe, by Joseph Imhauser, FORIMMEDIATERELEASE.dk A Fissure and a Fusion, by j.frede, Huffington Post, web. Lyeberry #13: Luckday, Santa Monica Daily Press, print and web. Prattsville Art Center, by Nancy Barton, ArtPlace America, web. EMBROS Theatre, by Joanna Panagiotopoulou, The Occupied Times, print and web. 2013 La Bibliothèque Fantastique, by James Urban, Printeresting, web. 2010 Elysian Park Museum of Art, by Carmel Ni, Graphite Interdisciplinary Journal of the Art, web. The Drumbeat Continues, by Geoff Tuck, Notes on Looking, web. Proust, Lyes and Videotape: Akina Cox and Joseph Imhauser, by j.frede, The Citrus Report, web. 2007 Meditations on a Post-Medium World, by Nico Machida, Artslant, web. Anthology Review: Internal Mechanisms, Beautiful Decay, print and web. Multimedia Pick of the Week, by Mallory C. Farrugia, Flavorpill, web.

About the contributors: Nancy Barton is an artist working at the intersection of rural and urban cultures through creative placemaking and photography. She divides her time between the Catskill Mountains, the Mojave Desert, and New York City where she teaches at New York University. She is the Founding Director of the Prattsville Art Center and Residency. Nico Machida is a Los Angeles-based art historian. In 2017 he completed his Ph.D. at UCLA. His dissertation, “The Syntax of Sites: Art and U.S. Urban Infrastructure, 1956--1980,� examined the central role played by large-scale urban development schemas in the history of site-engaged art practice. Taro Masushio is a Japanese-born artist and writer working here and there, but often in New York City. He has taught and held seminars at NYU, UC Berkeley, and UC Santa Barbara. His artworks have been exhibited internationally at Pacific Film Archive, Bekeley, Immanence, Paris, 321 Gallery and Miyako Yoshinaga in New York. His writings have been published in ArtForum, ArtAsiaPacific, Sleek, as well as numerous exhibition catalogues. Joseph Imhauser is an artist, musician and educator whose works range widely from film to botany to vocal performance.

This publication is supported in part with funds from the New York State Council on the Arts with the support of Governor Andrew Cuomo and the New York State Legislature, with public funds from the Greene County Legislature through the Greene County Cultural Fund administered in Greene County by the Greene County Council on the Arts, and with generous support from the Tianaderrah Foundation.

Published on the occasion of: Joseph Imhauser Poetics of A Wall Projection July 29 - September 17, 2017 Prattsville Art Center and Residency Copyright 2017 Joseph Imhauser Prattsville Art Center and Residency Including Texts by Nancy Barton Nico Machida Taro Masushio Prattsville Art Center 14562 Main Street Prattsville, NY 12468 www.prattsvilleart.org Published and designed by Lyeberry Press for Prattsville Art Center and Residency Printed and bound in the United States 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 ISBN: 978-0-9990309-1-2

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