TURIN — Things are shared, and time exists only in the present tense. I wanted to journal about the movements surrounding Artissima, Torino’s international art fair, because I’m curious to think about how art can live or die depending on the conditions in which it is placed. Recently I’ve found globally recognized artworks to have in common a certain sterility, often heavily based on theory and intellect, that keeps them very safe. In these journals, I was interested in placing internationally established works in the same space as traces left behind in an apartment, for example, in order to feel something, feel soul.
TURIN — Everything in this house moves. This morning there was no toilet paper and no hot water. I ran into two new strangers in the kitchen last night after walking home 35 minutes in the rain from an industrial space outside the city temporarily being used as a music venue.
TURIN — Last night, we had to hustle to get tickets for the Artissima after party. It was a sad moment because some of us got the tickets and the others did not, it fractured the group (would it be another night at Liber, our local billiard parlor?). In fact, the presence of Artissima in Torino has changed the energy and rhythm in our home.
TURIN — I was woken up in the middle of the night by Giallo, a Sicilian artist who is staying in our living room, looking to use my computer; or possibly by Luca, in town from Milano, who wondered into my room looking for the bathroom.
I was asleep before everyone else in my house and when I woke up this morning everyone was gone. This is a rare, rare day. I’m usually the first to wake up at 10am. I try to wake up “early” because I’m shooting a 28-day film of morning rituals connected to my waking temperature, but with the artists sleeping in the kitchen this week it is nearly impossible.
TURIN — Everything in this house moves … At any given moment, installations and tableaux are temporarily constructed around the house and then sometimes in your own room your audio set-up will be deconstructed. They are traces left by my housemates Manuel Larrazàbal Scano and possibly Renato Leotta, who normally create full-studio works but also use the entire apartment as their working canvas. Living in a community of artists here in Italy, where all resources are shared and possessions/private property doesn’t really exist, has been an adjustment for me, a New Yorker raised by capitalists.
TURIN — Everything in this house moves … I’m living with a bunch of Italian artists in Torino (aka Turin), Italy. Outside, there are the diurnal tides of Porta Palazzo, Europe’s largest open-air market existing for over 150 years. Inside, we have a sea of peoples and energies contributing to a mood of neo-realism and contemporary art.