Installed in a partially finished white box room with one wall of exposed and distressed brick, the sculptures did indeed invoke the simplicity, seriality and materiality of conventional minimalist art. Then, Kenya arrived.
On high authority I've been informed that my work is shit. Mostly I've been desensitized to such proclamations -- I can thank the Art School Critique framework for that -- but its ill-timed delivery, six days before graduation, left me shaken and stirred.
The recent firestorm regarding Beyonce's promotional imagery leaves me baffled. The entire hubbub about Mrs. Knowles-Carter and her whitetification seems misplaced, especially in the Post Michael Jackson Era.