Short-Term Deviation is a month-long exhibition featuring publication, video and music in a performance space, self-published/small press publication library and video screening room. As a collaboration with the non-profit, volunteer-run publication, Showpaper, the exhibition will be on view at Elizabeth Foundation for the Arts Project Space in New York.

There will be special four-part print series of Showpaper featuring work from:
Borden Capalino, Katja Mater, Arthur Ou and Grant Willing.

September 23 - October 23, 2010
Opening Event: Thursday, September 23, 6-10pm

Exhibition Curator: Jie Liang Lin
Print Series and Library: Jesse Hlebo

Installations: Catherine Ahearn, David Berezin, Grayson Cox, Charles Harlan, Steve Lambert, Francisco Marcial, Nadja Verena Marcin, George Pfau, Poster Company, Chris Rice and Borna Sammak.

EFA Project Space
323 West 39th Street, 2nd Floor
New York

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The Prophet Dube
Peter Sutherland

    On small paper flyers, “Prophet Dube” is spelled out in all caps above a number to call for free healing; the phrase “Don’t miss your last chance,” leans in italics underneath. The rest of the images is haunted by this peculiar spiritual undertone doubly offering and warning. This wanning hope colors Sutherland’s images, the arid deserts, wooded mountainous ranges, cold landscapes of weeping ice formations, the middle of nowhere buildings, and tags along with his friends in various locations, shuttling in and out of apartments, accompanying him on the street, riding shotgun in the car, forever looking on with him.

    Sutherland gathers religious iconography and referants with an underlining of criticism. Images of glowing white crosses in a field of black, a desolate building with “Victory Over Darkness” on its protruding signage, accompanying it, is a smaller sign like a footnote a few steps away with the text “Prayer changes things” scribbled onto it, an illustration of a wooden cross wrapped with thorns, a Pagan Bible left on the nightstand, fallen tree branches hung on a telephone wire with its branches spread out in vain, and one after another, incredible majestic landscapes, so grandiose and utopic, yet without the human presence.

    An open trunk door reveals the car’s cargo; a set of subwoofers glaring out, boasting of its power in its bulky stature. To the left of the page, a man works on a cigarette, while holding another one already lit, at the ready, in his right hand. The next spread, two men are pushing a small car, perhaps to get the engine running, they get into the car and a cigarette appears drooping out of the driver’s mouth: a meloncholy tune resonates in this communal, bitterweet melody.

    There is a group of people forming a circle, their arms criss-crossing each other’s backs. The flash falls short and highlights only the backs of the people closest to the camera and the rest recede into the night. Their arms are relaxed and speak of a familiarity, collective gestures of trust. Their backs are hunched towards the center, leaning in, performing a secret ritual that is not religious, but rather evoking a more tangible spirituality. A community built on shared yearning, of shared looking, all the while, healing each other.

- anne

[Peter Sutherland]  


Wow it’s been a really amazing little residency Showpaper has had at the EFA space. There were a ton of great bands that made it out as well as a bunch of people who helped us bring a little bit of Brooklyn into mid town. If you haven’t seen the space this is your last chance to give it a proper goodbye and catch some more amazing live music, videos and another performance by Nadja Marcin!

Thursday October 21st @ EFA PROJECT SPACE

:: art exhibition curated JIE LIANG LIN
:: print series / small press library curated by JESSE HLEBO
:: a collaboration with SHOWPAPER

:::: Chat Logs


323 W 39th St #2 @ 9th Ave | Midtown, Manhattan
any train to Port Authority or Times Square | 7pm | all ages | FREE


Chat Logs is the wraith of a demon, long shed of it’s corporeal state, by some great artifice trapped in a gargoyle for thousands of years, bred of outrageous fire and endowed upon two unfortunate souls in Brooklyn, NY; the reverberant snarl of it’s death rattle; it’s droning dying pulse; a break in the light; frenzy and panic; a persistent host; to hold your head under water and pray with you; that you might see the refracted light and meridian.


“Chat Logs’ Learning to Sleep on Yer Back is a call to arms for a messiah. When music began it was a set of beautiful noises meant to bring us closer to God. I really believe that. However, this album-song isn’t a Psalm and it isn’t praise…Learning is a deconstruction of everyone’s ideas; a tearing down of the Walls of Jericho. ” -10listens.co

Read more: http://www.myspace.com/chatlogs#ixzz12m8s3sgW



(aggressive post-grime tribal punk)



Alaskas - I Love Life from daisyheroin on Vimeo.

  • Films Andres Laracuente, (b. 1982) is a New York based artist working primarily with moving image, performance, sculpture and photography. He has presented works internationally at venues including P.S.1 MoMa in New York, Autocenter in Berlin, Projet Midi in Brussels, the National Gallery of Arts in Albania, and Brown Gallery in London. He was featured as panelist at the MIT 5 international conference moderated by Bill Arning. A solo exhibition of new work was recently on view at Galerie Yukiko Kawase in Paris. Laracuente graduated from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 2006 with a Bachelor of Fine Arts.

ALSO a video collaboration by

Liz Magic Laser and Dafna Maimon



Kalle Sanner
Farewell Books

   One of the spreads of Gravity presents a pair of images depicting gestural hands. The palms turn to each other, forming a parenthesis enclosed around the empty gutter of the book. The absence of the white page floods with meaning supported by the fingertips that extend out of the frame.

    Continually, the reader is gently directed, to observe and to take part in imbuing the sparse imagery. Within two pages, the minimal shape of a circle transforms and softens into a weightless orb of light. A radiant circle gently shimmers a spotlight nestled in the valley between someone’s back shoulders. The lights glow, emanating and turning, animated through three images presenting its movements. These images are similar to looking from a telescope pointed out into the night, documenting a star’s to and fro against the blackest black.

    The gaze retreats too, aligned with the photographer’s view, showing us a desk lamp perching over a tabletop with small remants arranged under its light. The adjacent page pairs two images, closing the distance, while three shadowy lines layer over the still life; the likely silhouettes of the metal desk lamp’s neck.

    Each image is carefully placed in dialogue with each other, sometimes mimicking the other’s formal lines and shapes and other times directly appropriating from the other. There is a curious spread of three images and one of the images gives the wider shot of a blank rectangle leaning against a tree trunk. The image to the right is an enlargement of the previous picture cropped into an analytical square frame. These two renderings of the same image give a meaning to the black rectangle sitting above the first image Rather than perceived as a formal shape, the form becomes a darkened mirroring of the two.  

    Overall, the book becomes a series of occurrences of imbuing meaning into bare shapes and objects. The images’ weight is given through the act of reading, looking and connecting one to the other. This interaction between the reader and the book at hand, forms the rare gravity that occurs when something becomes meaningful through observation.

- anne

[Kalle Sanner]

Check out this really awesome article on the opening!

Zines, Zombies, and Rackets: Short-Term Deviation Opens at EFA

Thursday, September 23rd, marked the launch of Short-Term Deviation, a mash-up exhibition at the Elizabeth Foundation for the Arts that’s part installation and part small press/zine library.

At 7pm the crowd packed into the front room for a performance by artist Najda Marcin, a restaging of her work “Love’s Surrogates.” Dressed in a floral-print skirt with white gloves reaching nearly to her shoulders, Najda climbed on top of a dresser to recite a poem/speech from the journal of a girl who reveals plenty (“body-keyboard. Stability. Submissive…Her grandfather peaked into the room as she masturbated. He sat on the couch. He had a lemonade”). Sentences found a humorous punctuation as she launched herself repeatedly from the dresser onto a kiddie trampoline and into the belly of an enormous sculpture, a blue doglike thing lying supine with knobby knees and elbows. After that, it’s even harder to say. She volleyed raw eggs into the audience with a tennis racket. She pulled a man from the audience, undressed him to the waist, and gave him a caring hug.

While we waited for the next performance (a pretty excellent piece from Kyle Bobby Dunn doing some drone-y minimalist undulations off a computer and electric guitar), I tracked down co-curator Jesse Hlebo who handled the paper-bound half of the show (the rest is organized by Jie Liang Lin). In addition to stocking the library Jesse also worked collaboratively with Showpaper, the indie music calendar for alternative venues in Brooklyn and beyond, to create a sharp-looking four-part print series. For the issue he reached out to the artists Borden Capalino, Katja Mater, Authur Ou, and Grant Willing with the idea that each would create an original artwork presented in a different CMYK monochrome. Before any work was installed Jesse took pictures of the empty gallery space and asked each artist to understand the images as they would a musical notation, to create a work that in a sense performs the prompt. “That’s the thing with Showpaper,” he said, “it’s a form of musical notation.” That sounds right—a calendar of events is a set of instructions for a fold-out experience—why not build an image that does the same?

The library itself is comprised of thirty publications, with plenty of really interesting works. I sidled in among the readers and as I started to work around the U-shaped space, I was helped by a Printed Matter staffer, who narrated me through the half tones and type-faces. Pulling out a work from Blackbox Press called Crimson Hexagon, she pointed to an off-registered image (a good thing in this instance, she assured me). “You can tell this is from a risograph.” A what? She kindly spelled it. In its content the publication felt very much in line with the rest of the night’s conceit, taking as its starting point the first sentence of a Borges story, “The Library of Babel,” and progressing forward so “each article determines the content of the next.” Notations the whole way down.

It’s hard to read zines at an opening though—they’re too many, you’re standing up, awash in noise and light, and you already have a beer in each hand. Still, through all that nice confusion, things will jump out and themes get themselves heard. The summer issue of PWR Paper reminded me that paper is “a perishable object, bound to a single location.” The accompanying text running down the right-hand side of the same page is the Wikipedia entry for the “List of Last Occurrences” that marches through a scattershot of last sightings of unsuited animals—the Carolina Parakeet, the Dodo, the Quagga—as well as various extinct languages, the implication here being that books could very well be up next. Jesse, though, had fair-warned me—“there’s a current running through a lot of the publications that has to do with the effects of the Internet,” he had said—but the warning is not really of the doom-saying variety. So the collection of zines, any collection maybe, shows a kind of crank-and-cog network of influence and dissemination, a manual and knowing ephemeralness. The Internet is fleeting too, of course, but a well-done zine doesn’t take this ephemeralness for granted. It doesn’t hold it hidden like an AdWord. Paging through a handmade thing asks something from you, but it gives back as well. In a nearby looping video of George Pfau titled Zombie (swallows the world, swallowed by the world), a backlit, unfocused figure lumbers to the camera, its limbs meager is the dissolving light. There’s the sense that starts to surface: with zombies, as with zines, music and art, the eating is always mutual.

Keith Gray

Ryan Lay

    In the library is a publication by Ryan Lay made out of wax and paper held together by thin zig-zagging red and black threads. Turning the pages, is a delicate matter and the reader moves at a slow pace taking care not to distress the book.

    The waxy cover of the book presents a foreground of forest looking out to a desolate sun-baked landscape. There are odd pieces of wax cut out and stitched on throughout the pages. Visible on both sides of the page, the fragmented wax doubly obscure and reveal as stained glass windows do in a holy space. These windows though hold indiscernable views for the most part and become alien remnants from a larger image, perhaps the orange forms are flames of a flickering fire or the split purple wax pieces come from a stormy sky.

    The reader moves through the pages treading softly, observing the alternating short dashes and wide opaque strokes. They appear alongside the waxed elements or rest solitary on the sparse page. By their lonesome and without a window to refer to, the cuts in the paper and the translucent strokes form a mysterious symbolic language for the reader.

    The one wax piece that holds a discernable representation, is the one of a tree, similar to the one on the cover of the publication. The tree removed from the forest, is lit by the opaque strokes, as sunlight would reflect and stream in unto surrounding greenery. Quickly though, a definitional reading is obstructed again by the next page’s top portion, where two pieces of purple hover on the topside. It guides the reader to the back cover page of the book, arriving at the arid landscape that was in the beginning, so distant.

- anne 

[Ryan Lay

THURSDAY!! silk flowers, cntrl top, 4 films! 6-8

 This Thursday, 6-8 at EFA!

:: Silk Flowers
:::: CNTRL TOP (of These Are Powers)
:: films
:: “Street” by Nadja Marcin
:: “Breadtape Vol. 1” by Jivko Darakchiev and Jeff Sisson
:: “Mortal Wounded” by Hayley Silverman
:: “Westcoast” by Ulu Braun


Silk Flowers

Forging a hallucinatory blend of synths and deep, slurred vocals that sound like Ian Curtis on cough syrup, New York’s Silk Flowers features vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Aviram Cohen and keyboardist Peter Schuette from Soiled Mattress & the Springs, and Ethan Swan of Car Clutch, Emergency, and Corpse Kisser. The band formed in 2008 and spent that fall touring with bands including Sightings, Tickley Feather, and No Age, who signed Silk Flowers to their label PPM. The “In This Place and Time” single arrived in early 2009, and the band’s self-titled debut album — which was produced by Saturday Looks Good to Me/City Center’s Fred Thomas — followed that summer. ~ Heather Phares, Rovi


CNTRL Top are performance art, challenging society’s views on gender, sexuality, bondage, etc. all derived from women’s undergarments … control-top pantyhose. To end a recent performance, at a Brooklyn art gallery, for the opening of the Eternal Christmas exhibition, CNTRL Top made a “snow angel” on a glitter-littered floor, a show that was no doubt something to be experienced.


"Street" by Nadja Marcin

6.02 min, HDV
Öffentlicher Raum, Berlin

In ‘Street’ nine performances were carried out in a guerilla action manner in public spaces in Berlin, while being documented by video and photography. The performances relate to historical events and comment on the obvious structure of consumer society and its battlefield. Using human rights as an authorization, the discrepancy between law and action evolves in the eyes of the observer.

"Breadtape Vol. 1" by Jivko Darakchiev and Jeff Sisson

Mortal Wounded” by Hayley Silverman

"Westcoast" by Ulu Braun

Braun belongs to a new generation of critical romantics and shows beauty and repulsion in artificial paradises. His area of expertise is a picturesque context of German lightness and irony. Works by German artists Uwe Henneken, Neo Rauch, Kai Althof, but also Anglo-Saxon artists such as Laura Owens and Martha Colburn manifest itself in a similar way. Heavy subjects are addressed sharply in Braun’s work through modern irony, mystique and shock effect.

MediaArt Friesland, Netherlands, 2007

Black Book
Andrew Laumann
Gottlund Verlag

    Black Book operates as a document casting an unfiltered light upon a community caught between embracing and rejecting social constructs of symbols and frameworks. The publication portrays a community lacking camraderie, brought together through assumptions and worn-down iconography. The possibility of a deeper unity is interrupted again and again by the division of a page, by the portraits of disconnected minds giving into the involuntary, by self-imposed chalkboard truisms and by the labels that rose from the underground to now regarded as sidewalk symbols of anarchism and straight-edge lifestyles.

    The book composes a rise and fall, albeit the rise, of young generations who are wearing the ideologies and lifestyles passed down from their older brothers and sisters, but cannot hold back from questioning their loss of individuality, absence of community, where is their unity? These ideologies that are built around an all or nothing stance, so much so, that any doubts on it, will obstruct the very championed notions. An attitude of indifference surfaces from the unsatisfied critical reflections. Inky fingerprints come and go throughout the book, traces of their naturally unique distinctions. Abstract drawings too are interspersed mimicking the experiments in the darkroom or schizophrenic lines skittering across a chalkboard.

    The roving eye depicts an isolated monument housing an empty pedestal next to a portrait of a topless man in an inbetween act of either pulling his pants up or taking them off. Another spread, shows a photograph of someone wearing track pants forced to the ground, lying on his stomach, getting handcuffed. All juxtaposed next to an inversed image of bars, locking up a sculpted bust, once the representative of the ideal human form. These careful observations and pairings also refer to the notion of observing, one spread depicts hands cradling a film camera with a mounted flash held close to the subject’s body and its pair image is constructed through receding layers of a repeated close-up portrait; the individual wears an indescribable expression of shock.

    In all capital letters, the following words are chalked up, “No Job, No Rent, No Masters”, carrying the utopic idea of rejecting hierarchy to regain one’s individuality through the avoidance of conforming to a Western social system. It is just another way to play the game, for beside the page is a man holding a prophet-esque stick behind a hazy landscape whiting out all context as he stands oddly on the precipice of the paper, free to perhaps walk right off the page. Perhaps that is the answer, to walk right away from all forms of representation, from all labels, no matter who they come from, but it would not do to close an idea so neatly and simply in a one, two, three conclusion. The book more or less ends with the question, so what now?

- anne

[Andrew Laumann]
[Gottlund Verlag

Short-Term Deviation 9.30.10 from SHORT-TERM DEVIATION on Vimeo.

Here’s a video from the white suns/ramble tamble show at the EFA space last thursday!

In case you missed it there were three rad videos and two really great performances. Nadja’s giant mouse installation made a perfect seating area for everyone there to watch the show and definitely made for an interesting crowd atmosphere. Ramble Tamble played a great set, I was really impressed by the crazy “Japan Banjo” they used, definitely something I’ve never seen before. White Suns closed the show with a really epic set too that got a lot of the crowd out of their seats.

You really missed out if you didn’t go but you should try and come out this Thursday and catch 3 new videos and live music by Dubknowdub and Fuckton.

Showpaper Issue # 89, 4 of 4 of the CMYK Series is out!

Artwork by Borden Capalino.


Consider this scenario: a man living in a bleak post-apocalyptic future wanders into the ruins of a museum, and comes upon a collection of minimalist sculptures. Assuming all memory of art and its history has been lost, what would this future man make of a work by Tony Smith or Donald Judd? Though totally hypothetical, this question is useful because it allows us to de-contextualize and reconsider the minimalist project.

Exploring the implications of this imagined encounter is at the center of my work. I suggest that instead of formal objects devoid of metaphor, the works in question might come across as objects of function or ritual. Using materials such as recycled lumber, plastic tarps, fallen wood, cardboard and general detritus, my work re-examines  minimalism in the context of demise, desperation, and decay.