Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Crossing Bridges at Angela Royo Latin American Art

I first encountered Angela Royo Latin American Art at the Affordable Art Fair in June 2008 and again in May 2009. Ms. Royo represents Latin American artists who work in a variety of media. She shows the artists' work at her home/gallery semi-in situ, thus enabling the viewer to imagine the art in their own home.

This morning, Ms. Royo hosted Crossing Bridges, a show featuring the most recent work of the Dallas-based husband and wife team of Hugo G. Urrutia & MK Semos, an architect and photographer respectively. The artists's collaborative process involves the use of a Russian-made Holga, an inexpensive medium-format camera which has been described as "a rangefinder version of the Kodak Brownie." It is also known for its light leaks, a "flaw" which Urrutia and Semos use to their advantage to create striking, overlapping images that merge up to three negatives. They use a process similar to silk screening to mount the photographs on unusual materials such as the tinted rear window of a truck, the wooden floor of a building, acrylic, and glass. Chemical processing in a photo lab adds to the surreal quality of the richly-saturated color photographs.

Bridge images are dominant in the show - as its title suggests - but London, New York, and Mexico City street scenes also feature prominently. My favorite pieces are Bridging Thailand I, Brooklyn Bridge I, Sin Limite, Liverpool Station, and Wooster Street. See Crossing Bridges at Angela Royo Latin American Art at 401 East 60th Street until the end of the year.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

One Hour in Chelsea with John Lurie, Abby Leigh, and David Hockney

John Lurie is a modern-day Renaissance Man. He is a musician known for his work with The Lounge Lizards and for numerous soundtracks, including the award-winning Get Shorty. Lurie is also a film and television actor - he has appeared in Jim Jarmusch films such as Stranger Than Paradise and Down By Law, and had his own TV series in 1991, Fishing with John. But Lurie is also a painter - and his artwork is what I wanted to see at Fredericks & Freiser in Chelsea.

Lurie's paintings have been described as "Basquiat-by-way-of-Dubuffet," and I would agree with this characterization. Lurie goes further by adding a narrative element to the pictures with titles that suggest humorous, witty, even morbid back stories. Examples include the exhibition's title - The Skeleton in My Closet has Moved Back Out to the Garden - as well as You Have the Right to the Pursuit of Happiness. Good Luck With That. You Have the Right to Bear Arms, and This Was the Exact Moment Marge Decided to Kill her Husband. But don't be alarmed by the bleak titles - many of them belie whimsical images. If you are alarmed by the titles, take a look at  Hummingbird and This is What I Really Call a Message, aptly named. The show will be in view until November 7th.

The Betty Cuningham Gallery is the place to see Abby Leigh: The Sleeper's Eye, now through November 14th. In a recent interview with Leigh in The Brooklyn Rail, the artist talks about her profound myopia and the effect it had on her work until Lasik surgery eight years ago corrected her vision. [I can relate, having had the same surgery in 2001.] The twelve paintings and sixteen works on paper that form the exhibition are quite beautiful, many of them circular, and in gorgeous hues like rose, russet, and pale green. Instead of being unnerving, gazing at the soft-focused "eyes" is intensely relaxing.

From Yorkshire to L.A. and back again - David Hockney, now 72, has been painting landscapes of his native Yorkshire since 2005, the year he returned from L.A., where he had been based for nearly 30 years. The PaceWildenstein Galleries in Midtown and in Chelsea will show 28 of these works this week through December 24th. I was two days too early to see the show in Chelsea, but I did see Hockney himself, who had stopped by the gallery to check on the installation progress.

Friday, October 23, 2009

From Tiffany's to ARTJAIL (and what happened in between)

My dear friend and former DC Marathon buddy was in town this week and we met yesterday afternoon at Tiffany's, where she wanted to look for a gift for her sister. The high-end bling-filled first floor was relatively devoid of customers, but the third floor - where we went to look at silver items - was as hopping as a Clinique gift-with-purchase promotion at Bloomingdale’s. Silver is cheaper yes, but does that explain the frenzy? No recession woes here. Or perhaps its serious denial.

“Let’s go to the park and enjoy the spectacular day,” I suggested. My ulterior motive was to enjoy a hamburger at the Central Park Boathouse. We imagined it was summer again as we watched people paddle on the pond. “Now let’s look at Bethesda Terrace and Poet's Walk.” You can’t go wrong with this itinerary.

The day got better and better. My friend and I were joined by a third friend at Hôtel Plaza Athénée’s Bar Seine, where the three of us imbibed Orchid Cosmopolitans and enjoyed the African and Southeast Asian décor. Afterwards, we parted ways – they went north to a benefit and I headed south to the Village to see a free screening of Captured at The Cantor Film Center.

I first saw this film at The New Museum last year. I did not get the opportunity to speak at length with the film’s subject, photographer Clayton Patterson, at that time. But last weekend at the Royal Flush Film Festival, I happened to attend the same two films Mr. Patterson did and had an interesting discussion with him about art. For the past 30 years, the Lower East side denizen has documented the idiosyncratic residents of the area, most notably capturing on videotape the 1988 Tompkins Square Riot. Patterson refused to give up the tape to the District Attorney as evidence against the police who had committed brutalities and was subsequently sentenced to 90 days in jail, during which he went on a 10-day hunger strike. With the meticulousness of a historian, Patterson has recorded the transition of a neighborhood once described as feral, punk, crime-ridden, drug-addled, hellish, and violent to one now filled with gentrified lofts, trendy boutiques, hip nightclubs and expensive restaurants. Patterson acknowledges that this is the way of the world, yet greatly laments the "metamorphosis," signifying as it does the end of the neighborhood’s character and artistic esprit de corps.

After the film, I walked south to Chinatown to attend a gallery opening of the show, “Gauge,” curated by my friend Joyce Manalo. There are worse things than doing time at ARTJAIL. You get food (home-made jambalaya, vegetarian and meat-filled), a generous assortment of beverages, an eclectic crowd aged 5 - 55, unusual artwork, and music. For me the most interesting was the musical performance of Honne Wells, who came to New York by way of Baltimore and the American Bible Belt. Wells experiments with sounds and old-fashioned recording techniques. His distinctive voice and style put me in mind of John Lee Hooker and Lead Belly, two obvious strong influences. The musician’s persona - tall frame, dapper dress, and authentic, semi-broom handle mustache - was an art form in and of itself.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

50th Anniversary of The Guggenheim - Kandinsky + Kapoor

I have always liked the idea and the mission of The Guggenheim more than my actual visits to the iconic museum. I'm fairly certain that this is not what architect Frank Lloyd Wright intended, but there is something about the place that never fails to provoke intense sensations of claustrophobia, dizziness, and disorientation. Additionally, I usually leave the building feeling as though I haven't seen the entire place - the annexes throw me off. The interior does not appear to match the exterior; I am reminded of the bizarre house that features prominently in Mark Danielewski's House of Leaves. Strangely enough, I've experienced the same unease when I've visited Wright-designed homes throughout the country.

So why do I keep going back? Today, it was because admission to the museum was free in celebration of the Guggenheim's 50th anniversary. I also wanted to see Anish Kapoor's Cor-Ten steel torpedo-like sculpture, Memory. I was only able to see parts of it – perhaps the artist’s intention was to show us the futility of remembering things in their entirety.

But the main attraction at the museum is the Kandinsky exhibition. The show follows the course of the Russian artist’s career from his beginnings in Moscow, then in Munich as part of The Blue Rider Group (characterized by the powerful horse-and-rider motif), through his involvement with the Bauhaus, to his final, biomorphic phase. His deep spirituality and love of music, which he considered to be the highest form of art, emerged in paintings that pack a powerful punch of bold colors. Examples include many of the works that form the Impression, Improvisation, and Composition series. Kandinsky's friendship and collaboration with the Swiss artist, Paul Klee, resulted in striking geometric patterns and shapes. The triangle symbolized action and aggression, the square peace and calm, and the circle the spiritual, cosmic realm.

The show is well-curated and includes paintings from the Guggenheim's own important collection of Kandinsky's work, as well as works from Paris' Centre Pompidou, and Munich's Stadtische Galerie Im Lenbachhaus. Wall text provides information for the visitor without interfering with the art. Don't miss the drawings and watercolors on the 4th level; in many ways, they are more interesting and beautiful than some of the paintings. The exhibition continues through January 13, 2010.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Stanley Bard's Chelsea Hotel

From an ethnographic perspective, artist Sam Bassett has done us a great service in making his film, Stanley Bard, which was shown at Anthology Film Archives in the East Village on Sunday night, the last night of the Royal Flush Festival. Mr. Bard has run The Chelsea Hotel for the past 50 years and was awarded an honorary MBA from Harvard for his business acumen. Artists from A-Z (most notoriously, those with surnames beginning with letters towards the end of the alphabet - Sedgwick, Spungen, Vicious, and Warhol) have lived and worked at the hotel, pursuing their passions, both licit and illicit. The film is a compelling testimony to the man who fostered an environment of creativity. Bard was a champion of the downtrodden, despite the fact that the downtrodden often bit the hand that fed them. The iconic status of the hotel lives on, although Bard stated that the current management has taken a more corporate, less Bohemian, approach to running it. No doubt a number of infamous past tenants would not be allowed in these days. Last night, Stanley Bard received a "Skullie" award for Best NYC film.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Real World: Berlin

The Royal Flush Festival runs from October 15th through today, and is dedicated to promoting independent art, film, and music. It began in the East Village in 2005 as the E. Vil City Film Fest, and has recently joined forces with Royal Flush magazine. Last night, I saw This is Berlin, Not New York, directed by Ethan H. Minsker, founding member of the Antagonist Art Movement. The film, which received a "Skullie" award for "Best of Fest," records what happened in 2007 when ten New York-based artists lived together and spent ten days artistically interacting with Berlin's denizens and environs. The artists included: Arturo Vega (artistic director for the Ramones), Ted Riederer (who has shown at P.S. 1 Contemporary Art Center), Minsker, Richard Allen, Brett Farkas, James Rubio, Un Lee, and Crispy T. The personality and art of these individuals translated well to film. I especially liked the Bukowski-esque, Bowery-inspired poetry (and reading style) of Richard Allen. Lee is a gifted artist, Rubio is quite funny, and Riederer admitted to talking too much. Interestingly, Reiderer also said that while he is proud of the cross-cultural exchanges Antagonist Art supports as a critical part of its mission, he would like to see a better quality of art emerge from these brief forays into new cities, acknowledging the difficulty inherent in doing so.  

The Antagonist Art Movement has existed in various forms since 1988 and is "...made up of artists, writers, poets, law breakers, aliens, and, most importantly ... non-conformists who are into creating art that does not fit into mainstream society." After the film, Minsker encouraged all artists in the audience to contact him to show their work in venues throughout the city. The Movement has a blog as well. Next on the horizon, the artists will travel to Lisbon and Tokyo. Stay tuned. 

Saturday, October 17, 2009

El Museo del Barrio Está Abierto

At the northern-most reaches of Museum Mile, across from the still-colorful Conservatory Garden and one block up from the Museum of the City of New York, I was outside with hundreds of excited people listening to the Latin rhythms inside, as we waited to enter the newly renovated El Museo del Barrio. Originally established 40 years ago by and for Puerto Rican artists, the museum's mission now includes celebrating Latin American and Latino art and culture. From humble beginnings in various storefronts and brownstones, in 1977 the museum moved to its present location at 104th and Fifth Avenue, a building which was once an orphanage. One pleasant testament to this is the Children's Theater, which contains 12 lovely murals by Hungarian artist, Willy Pogany, as well as stained glass scenes from children's literature.

The main exhibition is Nexus New York: Latin/American Artists in the Modern Metropolis. Between 1900-1942, artistic and intellectual exchanges flourished among artists like Alfred Stieglitz, Francis Picabia, Marius de Zayas, Luis Hidalgo, Alice Neel, Carlos Enríquez, and Florine Stettheimer. The synthesis was often fuelled by the revolutionary fervor of the time as well as the artists' sense of belonging to the vanguard of Modern art.

The museum's permanent collection of Puerto Rican, New York, and Cuban artists contains over 6,500 objects. Some are religious and devotional, while others reflect Taíno culture, which was dominant in Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, Haiti, Cuba, Jamaica, and the Bahamas from 1200-1500 A.D. The centerpiece in this gallery is undoubtedly Pepón Osorio's Baroque piece The Bed (1987), a loving and meticulous tribute to the woman who was Osorio's caretaker and who later became the family's housekeeper. Other outstanding pieces include Argentine writer/poet Leandro Katz' Lunar Typewriter, and Puerto Rican artist Rafael Colón Morales' Son of Darkness, a beautiful painting of ghostly horses and doves set in a rose-purple background.

The Mexican Modernists have a gallery to themselves where you can see some of the politically-infused work of Orozco, Siqueiros, and Rivera, who lived in New York in the 1920s and 1930s. Rivera's original drawing for his infamous mural, Man at the Crossroads, which was commissioned for Rockefeller Center (and later destroyed), is placed near Miguel Covarrubias' amusing piece on what might have occurred when Rockefeller discovered that Rivera had snuck in a portrait of Lenin.

Finally, there is a gallery devoted to the work of artists associated with Surrealism and Automatism, e.g. Salvador Dali, Rufino Tamayo, Frida Kahlo (although she would probably object to being included in this group - a quote on the wall indicates that she never painted her dreams, just her reality), Matta, Robert Motherwell, and Marcel Duchamp. I liked the pieces by Tamayo, Kahlo, Matta, Motherwell's Memory of Coyoacán, and Duchamp's bizarre Origin of the World-like Étant donnés. Brazilian sculptor Maria Martins, the wife of the Brazilian ambassador to the United States, was believed to have been the model for this sculpture.

My visit to El Museo del Barrio was invigorating. In addition to the contagious energy and the chance to see the work of Latin American and Latino artists I already admire, I encountered new ones as well. The experience made me think more deeply about the cross-cultural pollination that happens all the time, all around.

"The Archery Contest" at P.S.122

For the past 30 years, Performance Space 122 has offered cutting-edge contemporary dance, theater, and performance art by artists including Eric Bogosian, Spalding Gray, Karen Finley, Eddie Izzard, and John Leguizamo. The theater operates in what was formerly a public school (P.S.122). I had passed by this East Village site many times on foot or on the bus, but last night was my first time inside.

The Archery Contest cannot be easily described. Conceived and directed by John Jahnke, it has elements of a mannered, Restoration comedy with stylized costumes and sexual references...and in this play, eventual nudity. Themes of death, religion, lust, infidelity, and betrayal are explored by actors wired with microphones that distort their voices to the background accompaniment of a scratchy-sounding Victrola record. The so-called theater-in-the-round is actually a theater-in-the-square, built in such a way as to conceal the lower half of the actors. It is as if you are watching a puppet show. Scenes are projected inside and above this square and the actors use the few props available to them as they talk past each other, never looking at or connecting with each other. They do look at the audience, however, or rather through the audience, who become a part of the scenario as the performers make their stage entrances and exits. The effect is highly disconcerting.

There are five characters in the play - a married couple (The Reverend Kendrick and his wife, Mercy), a girl named Orpha and a boy named Dory (Isidore), and The Sexton Hawthorne, who is the catalyst for some of the action in the play. Mercy and Dory get together, as do The Reverend and Orpha, as do The Sexton Hawthorne and Dory. There was definitely a bit of Dangerous Liaisons - the bored married couple seeking to spice up their lives by corrupting young innocents.

As the play progressed, the walls literally and figuratively came down. Body parts, emotions, and what the characters were truly thinking were revealed. The lighting became harsher, less hallucinatory. The characters' nicely-distorted voices (think of Hal in 2001: A Space Odyssey) also became harsher. They challenged each other in an archery match, the girls against the boys, during an eclipse. And Mercy is killed - or not - at the end. Again, it defies easy description.

I think that Jahnke took the Lennon-McCartney approach to creating The Archery Contest. He assembled fragments of language, style, distorted sound, and color to devise his very own Sgt. Pepper, complete with kaleidoscope eyes. I confess to being a bit transfixed for 100 minutes, but one of my friends did not share my reaction. At the end of the performance, she asked "What just happened?"

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

The Art of Walking

"I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks, who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering; which word is beautifully derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the middle ages, and asked charity, under pretence of going à la sainte terre" — to the holy land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a sainte-terrer", a saunterer — a holy-lander. They who never go to the holy land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and vagabonds, but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from sans terre, without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all, but the Saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea. But I prefer the first, which indeed is the most probable derivation. For every walk is a sort of crusade, preached by some Peter the Hermit in us, to go forth and reconquer this holy land from the hands of the Infidels."   ----Henry David Thoreau

I don't think that Central Park is The Holy Land, nor do I pretend to be a walker on the order of Thoreau or Wordsworth, but I am a walker nonetheless. I'm also a runner. Today however, instead of running my customary 3-4 miles to, in, and from Central Park, I decided to saunter. I walked from my apartment up to the northern-most point of the trail that loops around the Jackie Kennedy Reservoir. All in all, it was about an eight-mile round trip, including the zigs and zags I did through the park before and after the Reservoir.

Not surprisingly, at this much slower pace, I noticed more than I usually do when I run. I had thoughts beyond just what I was going to eat at the end of the run, focused on things other than my breathing, and looked all around instead of mostly down, which is what I normally do while running to avoid twisting an ankle. I saw lavender flowers and ones that were a deeper purple. Also white flowers. Leaves falling down - not too many red ones yet. Blustery skies with fast-moving clouds alternating with warm sun. The statue of Balto, the sled dog who saved Nome. Ducks in ponds. A plaque dedicating some cherry trees to Otto Marx. Benches dedicated to people I will never know. Lampposts, which someone once told me indicate how far north, south, east, and west you are in the park in case you become disoriented - just look for the little plaques near the base. The way the El Dorado apartments are reflected in the Reservoir.

Although my walk was not quite the crusade Thoreau described, I nevertheless got a lot of thinking done. In that sense, my mission (if I had one) was accomplished.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Inside the Artists' Studios - The Marie Walsh Sharpe Art Foundation

Last night, I attended a tour of several artists' studios in the South Brooklyn neighborhood of DUMBO. In conjunction with Sculpture Center, the tour was led by Lowell Pettit , an art consultant whom I had the pleasure to interview for my Master's thesis last year. Mr. Pettit organizes tours such as this one for the New Art Network (NAN), a young patrons' group he co-chairs with Elana Rubinfeld.  

For the past 18 years, The Marie Walsh Sharpe Art Foundation, has provided studios for visual artists for one-year periods. Sharpe was a Colorado Springs philanthropist who created the Foundation before her death in 1985. This year, the foundation moved from its former TriBeCa location to its new 20 Jay Street home. A jury of artists selected 17 recipients this year from 1150 applicants. Our group had the pleasure to get acquainted with artists Kate GilmoreDavid OpdykeDavid Brooks, and Rob Swainston.

Gilmore is from the suburbs of Washington DC, which she told us has influenced her work. She comes from a sculpture background, which she uses in her performance pieces, many of which are then videotaped. She admires Hannah Wilke and Vito Acconci, among others. Gilmore uses her rage and aggression to "break through," but also sees herself as an athlete who sets up systems to accomplish concrete goals. However, this rather serious description contrasts with her cheerful demeanor and hearty laugh.

David Opdyke comes out of a painting and sculpture background. He used to build architectural models and this is evident in his work today, as is his interest in suburban themes. In the early 2000's, Opdyke's intense interest in the political climate at the time had a direct effect on pieces such as Taste Test - a red state-blue-state map forming "Coke v. Pepsi" and created of Monopoly hotels arranged in a suburban cul-de-sac configuration. The Iraqi conflict influenced Greenback (above left), a beautiful partial image of a dollar bill made of golden tanks and soldiers. Now, Opdyke is at a stage where he struggles between creating larger works and smaller works.

The very witty David Brooks, from Brazil, Indiana (you know it? he asked us) has an art and architecture background. He makes Brutalist-type sculptures and likes to mix the very old with the very new. Brooks creates caricatures of the ecosystem by mixing reinforced concrete with palm fronds, as an example. He is also interested in conservation biology and has been involved with a fish tagging project on the Venezuelan border and he has designed a boardwalk through a national park that incorporates the tree trunks within it, instead of outside of it.

Rob Swainston has a background in drawing, sculpture, printmaking, and collage. He likes to create non-site-specific installations that are nevertheless specific to a site. Swainston works as a master printer and teaches printmaking at Columbia University, one of his alma maters. He is a member of Vox Populi, a Philadeplhia art collective.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

"No Money, No Problem" at the Invisible Dog Gallery in Cobble Hill

Sisters Emma and Ani Katz are the young co-founders of Recession Art Show, whose latest endeavor, No Money, No Problem, began this afternoon at the Invisible Dog Gallery in the Cobble Hill area of Brooklyn. The show, whose purpose is to match affordable art with buyers, is on the third floor of the burgeoning art center at 51 Bergen Street, a former belt factory, whose previous owner - a pilot - created the faddish Invisible Dog (the leash that creates the illusion that you are walking an invisible dog). The atmospheric, rustic space will continue to host rotating art shows, while the second floor is comprised of artists' studios and the ground floor is home to the Shopart gallery. 

Fifteen artists were chosen in a juried selection process for the recession-themed show. I liked the work of photographers Kristen Doetzkies, Lisbeth Kaufman, Danielle McDonnough, and Danielle Scruggs, but was especially taken with Catherine Gavriel's pieces made of found objects including a Christmas ornament, light bulbs, hooks, hammerheads, and yarn mounted on wood. Lori Nelson's Souvenirs From the Recession 2009, also captured the zeitgeist with a piece that consisted of wooden plaques interspersed with sale tags with answers from people responding to the question: What have you been doing differently in the past year because of the recession?

Highlights for me included the following:

"wearing clothes 3 times before washing :-("
"ride my bike whenever I can"
"I stopped buying lunch. Making lunch. Save $200 per month."
"Kids get no summer camp. (I get no peace)."
"I thought I'd graduate and make $ as a photo assistant. Instead, I worked for free for a year."

But the best response of all - maybe because it is particularly apropos for me - came from Elizabeth, a writer in Brooklyn, who said "nothing has changed for me. Now, more people live as I do."

Friday, October 2, 2009

New York Art Book Fair at P.S. 1 - Deitch Studios Benefit

Now in its fourth year, The New York Art Book Fair, presented by Printed Matter, Inc., opened last night at P.S.1 Contemporary Art Center in Long Island City, Queens. Featuring over 200 international publishers of contemporary art books, art catalogues, artists’ books, art periodicals, antiquarian dealers, and independent artist/publishers, the free fair will run through Sunday, October 4th. A special exhibition entitled Richard Prince: Calling All Readers is one of the highlights. Despite last night's chilly temperatures, many art and book lovers were in attendance.

At about 8 pm, people began to make their way to nearby Deitch Studios, which hosted a benefit for the book fair. Empanadas and Campari - an unlikely but surprisingly synergistic duo - were available to those willing to brave the extremely long lines. In addition to artwork courtesy of Deitch's eclectic group of artists and an assorted hodgepodge of scenesters both young and old, music by the electronic band Silk Flowers (who did they remind me of? Joy Division, sort of), provided the backdrop for the event.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Poetry at apexart

Last night, I learned to look at poetry in a new way courtesy of Luis Sagasti, a native of Bahía Blanca, Argentina. Sagasti is a multi-faceted man - he is a poet, a lecturer, a curator, as well as a novelist. TriBeCa non-profit apexart hosted Sagasti as part of their residency program, in which artists get the opportunity to immerse themselves in New York City for one month. Read about Sagasti's impressions of the city and his views on writing on his blog.

The Argentine poet spoke with Raphael Rubinstein, a NewYork-based critic, author, and former senior editor at Art in America. Sagasti emphasized the similarities between poetry and religion - both attempt to rejoin or reconnect seemingly disparate thoughts and objects in order to transcend the quotidian. To write poetry, he said, one must recover the intensity of experiencing moments for the first time and with the wonder of a child, tempered with the experience of an adult. A combination of William Blake's notion of innocence and experience perhaps? Sagasti believes in living in the moment but not killing the moment, which he says that photography does without fail. 

Rubinstein remarked on how modern poetry has avoided unity; it has been characterized by fragmentation and disunity. I hope that Sagasti's passion for unity will signal a more thought-provoking poetry for our times.