Blog – Art in Odd Places

Thinkers in Residence spend time on 14th Street over the festival weekend reflecting on 14th Street, patterns of movement, artists, pedestrians, publics, personal reflections, and participation. Their responses take the form of writing, walking, image-making, poetry, or on-the-spot conversations with the public.

And now the observations of Davidson Garrett, Day 2.

Edward Einhorn: “Performance For One”

By Davidson Garrett

I have always shied away from participatory theater through the years. For me, being singled out in the audience and having to banter with an actor on stage—always frightened me into avoiding such theatrical presentations. That being said, it was with a bit of reluctance that I made a reservation for Edward Einhorn’s “Performance For One,” presented by Untitled Theater Company No. 61, for the Art in Odd Places INVISIBLE 2019.

On a blustery Thursday, freezing from the backside of a Nor’easter hitting the New York area, I ventured to the entrance of the Highline Park on West 14th Street, where this play would be performed on the sidewalk underneath the park. Andrea Gallo was the actress who would be featured at the 4:45 pm performance. Approaching the area, with the wind gusting about twenty miles an hour, I saw an empty chair where I would be sitting for the short experience. The Meat Packing District was hectic with pedestrians—who were somewhat indifferent to the artistic happening about to take place.

Ms. Gallo, dressed casually, sat in a chair beneath the former railroad track, and invited me to sit in the empty chair opposite her. Quickly, she began speaking by assuring me this was going to be a comforting adventure, and there should not be any fear or trepidation inside of me. With a melodious voice, and her brunette hair blowing ferociously by the wind, I was told that I could look directly into her eyes, or I could look down at her hands. At first I thought I was having a Marina Abramovic moment, looking into this thespian’s eyes as we sat knee to knee. They were gentle, loving eyes, and we stared at each other for a few seconds as I then glanced down at her hands.

Beginning the performance, the hands were the first focus, with the monologist musing about the intimacy of hands. She spoke liltingly, and asked if I wanted to shake or hold her hand. I did shake her hand, and then I was instructed that words from me were not necessary, and I could enjoy our time together just listening. This was calming, and I immediately felt comfortable seated across from her. All of a sudden, I was not at a performance, but hearing a lot of wisdom pouring forth from the mouth of a stranger. It seemed like we had been friends for a very long time. My apprehension lifted, and I began to enjoy being a part of this theatrical moment.

Continuing speaking about the intimacy of hands, Andrea Gallo revealed details about her father’s hands, which made me think of my own father. With every life situation explored, my mind examined my own feelings, conjuring images about my past and present. As the ten minutes passed, there developed an intimate bond between this audience member and the player. I forgot the actress was saying lines written by Edward Einhorn. I was totally transported into the emotional ideas mentioned, and the connections to my own self.

Toward the end of the monologue, Andrea, my new best friend, said that our time together would be etched inside of me for a long time. Looking into her eyes, I knew she was right. I will think of this special afternoon—when I truly was an audience of one.

And now the observations of Christine Licata, Day 4.

the #weightofwords

Postal relay boxes work as storage containers for mail carriers as they make their rounds. Carriers can replenish their bags on the go, removing the need to constantly return to the distribution center (or carry everything at once). They are most prevalent in cities where USPS workers make deliveries on foot, and the boxes are either filled by the carriers themselves or postal workers in trucks who make larger delivery runs.

Duties and Requirements of a Letter Carrier
Activity, Continuous, Intermittent, Hours Daily
Lifting/Carrying, 10 Pounds, 70 Pounds, 8 or More Hours
Sitting, 4 or More Hours
Standing, 6 or More Hours
Walking, 6 or More Hours
Climbing, 2 or More Hours
Kneeling, 2 or More Hours
Bending/Stooping, 2 or More Hours
Twisting, 4 or More Hours
Pushing/Pulling, 2 or More Hours
Simple Grasping, 8 or More Hours
Fine Manipulation, 8 or More Hours
Reaching Above Shoulder, 2 or More Hours
Driving a Vehicle, 6 or More Hours
Temperature Extremes, All types weather, 8 or More Hours
High Humidity, 6 or More Hours
Fumes/Dust, 3 or More Hours

Carrier may be required to work up to 10 or 12 hours per day or longer as service needs require. Carrier may be required to lift up to 70 lbs from floor to waist height or higher.
www.postalemployeenetwork.com/carrier-duties.htm
https://facts.usps.com/table-facts/

#invisible #relayboxes
#aiop #14thstreet
#thinkerinresidence @edwoodham @thelululolo #day4

#shelter #Arcángel #the8thorder

Between the racks of canned beans and rolls of toilet paper in a bodega a staircase hides beside the shelves.

It leads to a cavern where, for the past 14 years, the bodega owner has quietly housed scores of homeless men, some with violent pasts and mental illness. He takes them in, from local park benches and street corners, unable to bear the idea of anyone out in the cold.

Here, beneath the shelves of instant soup and paper towels is an unauthorized shelter in its most primal form — a dank unfinished basement, cavelike and fetid, where the men sleep on pallets amid pools of dark water on the cement floor. But there is real warmth, the men say. It comes from behind the deli counter, where seven days a week, stands the welcoming bodega owner, Candido Arcángel.

The shop is zoned for commercial use, and the basement does not have the required certificate of occupancy to permit people to live there. Mr. Arcángel has not made the necessary applications to the Department of Buildings to convert it into habitable space, which would require an inspection to determine if it is safe to do so.

The absence of permits has not deterred Mr. Arcángel, who says his reasoning for opening his basement to the homeless is simple. “Because they don’t have,” he said. “And I do.”

Because Mr. Arcángel’s makeshift shelter is likely illegal, he asked that the precise location and name of his store not be disclosed. Between six and a dozen people live in the basement at any given time, he said. Edited from #nytimes #SarahMaslinNir #2018

#invisible #bodega #basement
#aiop #14thstreet
#thinkerinresidence @edwoodham @thelululolo #day4

#heroine

LuLu LoLo is my heroine. She has more brilliance and power than can be seen with the naked eye, heard with un-muffed ears, or touched with a (singular palmar creased!) hand. Thank you for being #beyondfabulous LuLuLoLo.

Curator of AiOP INVISIBLE. She is a New York based international performance artist, performing in six Art In Odd Places festivals; a playwright/actor of eight one-person plays; an activist, and Board Member of the Remember the Triangle Fire Coalition. www.rememberthetrianglefire.org

LuLu LoLo is visible in her invisibleness as an AiOP artist. In 2018 LuLu “Offered a Seat to the Elderly”. Her performance in 2015, “Where are the Women Monuments?” highlighted the lack of public monuments honoring women in New York City and was featured in the New York Times. In 2017 as “Mother Cabrini, Saint of the Immigrants,” LuLu offered compassion to the people of New York City, and Charlottesville, VA (AiOP: MATTER). Other AiOP performances: “Loretta, the Telephone Operator (2013),” “The Gentleman of 14th Street (2011),” and “14th Street NewsBoy (2009).

LuLu has received a 2018 Puffin Foundation Grant in Theater and was a Blade of Grass Fellow in social engagement and a Lower Manhattan Cultural Council Writer in Residence. www.lululolo.com

#invisible #thelululolo
#aiop #14thstreet
#thinkerinresidence @edwoodham @thelululolo #day4

Thinkers in Residence: Davidson Garrett, Day 2

Thinker in Residence: Christine Licata, Day 4