In 1984, Sheila and I packed our old brown Toyota Corolla wagon and moved to New York. In 1988 I was asked to organize an exhibition celebrating the tenth anniversary of The Upstairs, which by then had become something of a legend in the Southeast. Of course they had no money to pay me, they had no money to have the work shipped to them, and they gave me only a few months’ notice. Undaunted, I chose a dozen artists from the first five years and I wrote them to ask if they would send me three things: a photo of a recent artwork they had made, a paragraph about what they had been doing since their show at The Upstairs, and instructions for how to make an artwork of their design using locally available materials. The idea was to create an exhibition of a dozen artists by simply following their instructions.
Richard C, a mail artist, former SECCA curator, and all-around comic genius from Winston-Salem; Elizabeth Lide, an installation artist from Atlanta; E.K. Huckabee, the artist who had accidentally set himself on fire during a performance where he attached dozens of fireworks to himself and lit them; the Dark Bob half of the Bob and Bob performance art duo; Nancy Weaver, from the first show; the composer Joseph Celli; Pinkney Herbert; Sam McMillan; David Yaghjian; Richard Kern. Jenny Holzer, whose show of her Inflammatory Essays I had mounted had prompted one of our board member to resign, declined the invitation. A couple others never managed to send instructions. Paul McMahon had come to The Upstairs from lower Manhattan in 1982 with his partner Nancy Chunn to do a brilliant performance art piece called The Rock and Roll Psychiatrist. Although he was friends with many members of the so-called Pictures Generation artists and created work that was more interesting in many respects, modest and self-effacing, he labored in obscurity for decades, supporting himself and his twin girls as a mail man. He now runs his own artists space in Woodstock, NY.
Here is the piece Paul sent. To my mind, the most beautiful piece in the show.
Richard C sent instructions for a sculpture called Family Portrait, consisting of off-the-shelf grocery items like Grandma’s molasses, Dad’s root beer, Uncle Ben’s rice, Aunt Jemima’s pancake mix, Little Debbie’s cakes.
The Dark Bob and his wife Heidi ShiZinn sent instructions for how to make an artwork titled A Homeland for the Palestinians.
And then, there is this…
The exhibition was never mounted. It ran into difficulties with timing, funding, and perhaps a little risk aversion. However the exhibition still exists in my files in the form of photos, letters, and instructions, just waiting for the adventurous artist/curator running an alternative artspace in an out-of-the-way locale. As the man said, “Be Adventurous!”
I remember all those artists! But good lord! How in the world did David Sedaris know I was an underwear model!?
Those were hardscrabble knockabout days — a step away from selling plasma on a street corner
My friends throughout the Asheville area were so impressed when the Sunday supplement came out they cut out my picture and made cardboard cutouts to mock/embarrass/celebrate
I was so abashed I never saved any of the photos
Your archive of documents collected along the way, priceless!