B E T W E E N
A new space, conversations with women, and gardening.
BETWEEN
[photo of 9BC]
Our new studio is a thin space, no wider than a generous hall-way, connecting the courtyard to the street. A neighbor tells me it was the carriage way. For the horses. We named it Studio 9BC, like some of the nearby community gardens, with its cross streets. I share the space with Jedy Lau (studio 000), we met while at DS+R and both live nearby.
Luckily the hallway is long, about 100 ft, and too much space for the both of us, so we’ve left a few desks flexible and the front half open. Since opening late last year the space has held a mix of photographers, writers, academics, illustrators, and dancers. If you’re in the neighborhood we welcome you!
FINDING OUR WAY [GROWING ??]
[photo of girl on arinaria, illustration for NDA]
My work with women is continuing. In March we added more stories to Arenaria, the evolving pavilion I designed for Georgia Tech. While installing the newly etched mosaics, two young girls happened to visit the work with their families. One found a rolly-polly bug and ran up to show me how its curl was like the structure.
Growing our home, finding our voice is the title of a capital campaign I’ve created with Notre Dame Academy (NDA), a girls school in Staten Island. The book was inspired by, and includes, drawings of flowers I saw their students painting during a site visit. The work has expanded into a wayfinding, graphic identity for the campus, and a new outdoor classroom and amphitheater.
[3 photos from the shows]
The conversations surrounding Arinaria and NDA extend into curatorial work at 9BC. I’ve shown three close friends and thoughtful makers–Cassandra Tyranary, Anahit Hayrapetyan, and Agathariotarot (pseudonym). Their work is distinct but connected by themes of memory, pain/healing, identities/fantasies, and transition. Their perspectives feel like a gift and it has been an honor holding them and sharing them with a larger universe.
GARDENING
[photo of sandbox]
Christine Lane, my new business partner (and former collaborator with Fearless Girl) has encouraged me to start carefully tracking my hours. It has been illuminating. Over a third of my time is spent gardening at 6BC Botanical Garden. If you had asked me 5 years ago, when I left DS+R, what I intended to do with my time, digging in dirt would not have been my answer. But the garden is where I go to find peace, beauty, and joy. It is teaching me to pay attention and to witness, carefully, the unfolding of the unknown. Right now, my journey feels more in the hands of the neighborhood and the gardens. The fragments of the stories above are connected through them. The girls' school was introduced by a fellow gardner at 6BC and our hallway on 9th street emerged from a sand box we made with Ada (from Lot-ex) and members at La Plaza Cultural.
VOICE
[photo of cicada]
I often feel unsure. My professions of architecture and dance have developed my strong inner critic. But as I garden, and as I have conversations with women about their lives, I am beginning to feel more grounded.
Earlier this week I found a cicada in the garden. She was completely still. Below her empty exoskeleton her soft shell and wings were drying.
The president of the girls school, Kathryn Jaenicke, has focused her work on supporting the students' voices. I understand her motivation.
