Monthly Archives: November 2013

Monotype, 11.26.13

November 27th, 2013

Monotype_11.26.13_res
© Michael Ast, 2013

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William Christenberry Retrospective – Spain 2013-2014

November 13th, 2013
William Christenberry, exhibition, Fundación MAPFRE, Centro José Guerrero

House & Car, Near Akron, Alabama (© William Christenberry)

I wish I lived in Spain . . . one of the most consistent and exemplary artist working in photography, sculpture, painting, drawing, doll-making . . . you name it, a humble and dedicated artist to his maternal home of Hale County . . . William Christenberry. This website, beautifully designed by Fundación MAPFRE, showcases Christenberry’s photography and much of his oeuvre. The retrospective is currently showing at Fundación MAPFRE, Madrid, and then travels to Centro José Guerrero in Granada, Spain. Be sure to journey through the gallery via the “virtual tour”, too. It’s fantastic.

View Exhibit/Fundación MAPFRE here

William Christenberry, exhibition, Fundación MAPFRE, Centro José Guerrero

House, Near Akron, Alabama (© William Christenberry)

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Photographs featured in “Petty Thieves” projection exhibition, Washington D.C.

November 5th, 2013

Michael Ast, Empty Stretch, Petty Thieves, New Hampshire

Super psyched to have photographs shown at the Petty Thieves Three projection exhibition and party. Showing Friday, November 8, at the Petworth Citizen + Reading Room in Washington D.C..

Big shout out to Empty Stretch for their ongoing Petty Thieves curatorial projects. The exhibition takes place with the launching of their latest “Petty Thieves 3” zine.

View event information and links to Petty Thieves 3

photo © Michael Ast – Untitled, New Hampshire, 2013

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Sunday Walk At Dusk

November 3rd, 2013

Michael Ast, November, plywood, path, mud, crags, bramble, autumn, Sunday walk, walking

I favor November to October, when the floor is littered with failure and a tarnished gold. It’s then I walk straight into the bramble, foothold in the musty, leafy mud, fingers in the rough-hewn skin of the walnut tree and pull myself in.

So much gained inside that ordained thicket.

I find myself eventually taciturn at home, horizontal on the front yard, peering up to dark. My feet feel faint, lightweight and soft, as if bathed in epsom salt for hours.

November . . . she is like that sometimes despite them bare branches seeming to spite us.

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