Lite by Tschabalala Self shows a figure standing in the middle of the canvas holding a can of lite beer while another figure is shown partially, exiting the painting on the right.

While I love the formal aspects of all the works in Self’s exhibition – the use of paint, fabric, printmaking, sewing as a means of drawing – it is the character of this male figure that draws me in. After 35 years in New York City, 27 of them in Brooklyn, this is a person I feel I know.

“Deli” in this context does not mean delicatessen, but bodega, or in Boston it would be the corner store. There were several in my Brooklyn neighborhood, really in all residential neighborhoods, and there is always a group of mostly men who stand outside all day, every day, drinking and smoking. The stores themselves were often fronts for gambling and had few items to sell other than beer, cigarettes, toilet paper, and milk.

In the painting the man’s pocket is turned inside out, an indication of his impoverished state; he is as stuck in his life as the chewing gum on the lower left sidewalk. The leg to me indicates life passing him by.

I came to know one of the men at my local deli by name – Raffi – but I had a chin-up nodding, “hey” relationship with them all.

A year or so after I left (was forced out of) Brooklyn, I ran into Raffi in Manhattan at around 7 AM. He was drunk. I offered him money, but he just walked away. I never saw him again.

Gregg Handorff joined the ICA as a Visitor Assistant in 2018.  He makes art in a variety of media whenever he can.

Friday Art Notes are personal reflections on works of art shown or in the permanent collection of the ICA, written by ICA staff, volunteers, and supporters. Read more 

 

At first glance, Sterling Ruby’s ACTS/WS ROLLIN is gritty, imposing, solid yet precarious. The surface of the base is reminiscent of city streets, complete with graffiti. The off-balanced resin block shot through with red is, from afar, a bit unnerving.

After approaching the piece for the first time, however, my perspective shifted as I inspected the details more closely. The ink droplets now appeared less threatening as they formed beautiful, delicate curls seemingly frozen in time. At a closer distance each vein is more distinguishable in its own trail, and every detail is striking and unique. The suspended liquid arrests your attention and refuses to let go.

Reflecting on the current situation and my own state of mind, I can’t help but recall my first reaction to Ruby’s piece. As I write this, working from home, I am reminded of my initial anxiety when confronted with this imposing sculpture. Life is often unnerving, uncertain, and precarious—somewhat like this lopsided stack of blocks. However, within the overwhelming chaos, moments of beauty can be found.

In the past few weeks, I have had some time to appreciate not only what obstacles life throws at you, but also the treasures it holds. I have recently had more time with my husband, making me appreciate his compassion, patience, and humor. I have witnessed countless acts of neighborly support in my community and city. I have also made more of an effort in self-care, and have taken time to focus on my own mental, emotional, and physical health. I am starting to notice that, like in Ruby’s sculpture, beauty can be found in life’s details, and after noticing that beauty, it will be hard to forget.
 

Brittany Eckstrom has been with the ICA since 2017 and holds the position of Assistant Manager of Visitor Services. In her spare time she enjoys practicing yoga and lives on a boat in Boston Harbor with her husband and their cat.

Friday Art Notes are personal reflections on works of art shown or in the permanent collection of the ICA, written by ICA staff, volunteers, and supporters. Read more 

 

Listen here:

When you enter William Forsythe: Choreographic Objects, you are immediately part of the art on view. With the help of a GoPro camera, computer algorithms, and TV monitors spanning the gallery wall, City of Abstracts depicts bodies in the gallery, with the illusion of physical and time alteration. Every movement captured is fluid, elongated, and elegant in its motions, unlike reality, where one may feel awkward and bumbling. Time itself appears stretched, akin to a sci-fi film. 

I hung out with City of Abstracts a bit during the run of the exhibition. At one point, a giggling child wearing a bright-colored outfit wove around myself and a Visitor Assistant in the gallery. The streak of their vivid clothing contrasted beautifully with our mostly black outfits. Swatches of stretched rainbow from my Polaroid logo T-shirt danced with my body. 

I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed so long and boisterously from an experience in a museum setting. While museums can help facilitate tough conversations surrounding the state of contemporary society, it’s refreshing to deal with the stresses of our current world by laughing at yourself and your body’s capabilities.  

Sarah Hachey has been a part of the ICA staff since 2015; in her current role as the Interpretive Media and Adult Education Coordinator, she manages all content and interactive activities in the Poss Family Mediatheque, co-produces digital educational resources such as artist interview videos, and oversees the behind-the-scenes for adult programs. Outside of the ICA, she is a multimedia artist, filmmaker, and also enjoys roller skating. 

Friday Art Notes are personal reflections on works of art shown or in the permanent collection of the ICA, written by ICA staff, volunteers, and supporters. Read more