University Libraries Promotion and Tenure Recognition

As an artist in academia, it is probably sacrilege to formally announce (in a book, no less!) that books aren’t the foundation of my professional identity; art is my center. The 1995 Carnegie International is the exhibition that convinced me, at age 14, that I was, and always would be, an artist. As I had for the prior four years, I was taking Saturday morning art classes there, where we were allowed into the galleries an hour before the general public was given access. In our drawing exercises, we'd sit on the floor in front of pieces that fascinated.

Another unfortunate confession is that none of the images in this book are actually from the exhibition as it was installed at the Carnegie Museum of Art, but are rather a collection of photographs from prior exhibitions. In my mind’s eye, I can still see the translucent forms of Rachel Whiteread’s sculptures, the negative space that resides beneath chairs, and Tony Oursler’s video projections of talking faces onto creepy, sculpturally blank doll faces, as they were smashed beneath mattresses or stuck in jars of liquid.

I’m neither a sculptor nor a video artist, but one working with wearable LEDs and real-time video and local communities. This exhibition shaped my foundation as an artist; hopefully someday my own art will shape the foundation of a 14- or 19- or 57-year old who is starting down their own path.