salmonrojo:



Salmonrojo Rising Digital Fundraiser


On Friday, October 3, 2014 we will be having  Salmonrojo Rising A Fundraiser for Red Salmon Arts Featuring Los Aztex with Joel Guzman and Sarah Fox @ Mexitas Mexican Food Restaurant, 1109 N. IH 35, Austin, TX with Special Guest: Leticia Rodriguez Master of Ceremonies: Tony Diaz, Libroficantefor those who would like to support us now donate at salmonrojo.tumblr.com (scroll to the bottom) Help us raise $2500.00 in one week!

salmonrojo:

On Friday, October 3, 2014 we will be having

Salmonrojo Rising
A Fundraiser for Red Salmon Arts

Featuring Los Aztex with Joel Guzman and Sarah Fox

@ Mexitas Mexican Food Restaurant, 1109 N. IH 35, Austin, TX

with Special Guest: Leticia Rodriguez
Master of Ceremonies: Tony Diaz, Libroficante

for those who would like to support us now donate at

salmonrojo.tumblr.com (scroll to the bottom)

Help us raise $2500.00 in one week!

do ho suh Apartment A, Corridor and Staircase, 348 West 22nd Street, New York, NY 10011, USA, 2011–2012. Polyester fabric and stainless steel tubes.Apartment A, 271 1/3 x 169 3/10 x 96 7/16 inches. Corridor and Staircase, 488 3/16 x 66 1/8 x 96 7/16 inches. Courtesy the artist and Lehmann Maupin, New York and Hong Kong.
based on his personal memories of architectural spaces, both of his parents’ traditional Korean house in Seoul and his own Western-style apartment in New York. ‘The space I’m interested in is not only a physical one, but an intangible, metaphorical, and psychological one,’ he has said. 
he covered every inch of the interior—walls, floors, ceiling, refrigerator, window air conditioner—with paper, then rubbed with a blue-colored pencil, the way a child might preserve the memory of a leaf in the fall.  "Rubbing is a different interpretation of space. It’s quite sensuous—very physical and quite sexual," … Viewers were invited to enter some of the installations, heightening the sensation of being in a home, or the memory of one. Suh recalls how his brother, an architect, was disconcerted to see strangers wandering under a version of their family home at a 2000 exhibition at New York’s P.S. 1 museum. … "It’s intrinsically impossible to make them exact," he says. "I wanted to achieve something intangible. It’s about memory, time spent in the space."  … For the 2012 Gwangju Biennale in South Korea, for example, Suh recalled the massacre of civilians that followed a protest there in 1980. “News was censored, so we didn’t know what was going on,” Suh says. “When I read the newspaper it was a patch of blanks—that never left me. When school started we students heard what happened in Gwangju from students who were there. Everything was fragmented. I was living only four hours away and didn’t understand what was happening—it made me think about the problems of writing history.”
In response, Suh made rubbings of three spaces around the city. “That’s a lot of rubbing,” he laughs. He and his crew wore blindfolds for one of the rubbings, both as a means of intensifying the already tactile experience of an unfamiliar place and as a metaphor. “I didn’t want to pretend to know about Gwangju,” he says, offering the analogy of tourists visiting a city’s standard landmarks. “You don’t pay attention to the space between the landmarks, and the way we look at history is the same—we only remember the so-called important historical events.”
Therein, Suh says, lies his challenge as an artist. “It’s an existential question of what we believe in this world—there are a lot of holes, but we try to believe it’s whole, the way a lot of people see the house [sculpture] as an exact replica. …”
Zoom Info
do ho suh Apartment A, Corridor and Staircase, 348 West 22nd Street, New York, NY 10011, USA, 2011–2012. Polyester fabric and stainless steel tubes.Apartment A, 271 1/3 x 169 3/10 x 96 7/16 inches. Corridor and Staircase, 488 3/16 x 66 1/8 x 96 7/16 inches. Courtesy the artist and Lehmann Maupin, New York and Hong Kong.
based on his personal memories of architectural spaces, both of his parents’ traditional Korean house in Seoul and his own Western-style apartment in New York. ‘The space I’m interested in is not only a physical one, but an intangible, metaphorical, and psychological one,’ he has said. 
he covered every inch of the interior—walls, floors, ceiling, refrigerator, window air conditioner—with paper, then rubbed with a blue-colored pencil, the way a child might preserve the memory of a leaf in the fall.  "Rubbing is a different interpretation of space. It’s quite sensuous—very physical and quite sexual," … Viewers were invited to enter some of the installations, heightening the sensation of being in a home, or the memory of one. Suh recalls how his brother, an architect, was disconcerted to see strangers wandering under a version of their family home at a 2000 exhibition at New York’s P.S. 1 museum. … "It’s intrinsically impossible to make them exact," he says. "I wanted to achieve something intangible. It’s about memory, time spent in the space."  … For the 2012 Gwangju Biennale in South Korea, for example, Suh recalled the massacre of civilians that followed a protest there in 1980. “News was censored, so we didn’t know what was going on,” Suh says. “When I read the newspaper it was a patch of blanks—that never left me. When school started we students heard what happened in Gwangju from students who were there. Everything was fragmented. I was living only four hours away and didn’t understand what was happening—it made me think about the problems of writing history.”
In response, Suh made rubbings of three spaces around the city. “That’s a lot of rubbing,” he laughs. He and his crew wore blindfolds for one of the rubbings, both as a means of intensifying the already tactile experience of an unfamiliar place and as a metaphor. “I didn’t want to pretend to know about Gwangju,” he says, offering the analogy of tourists visiting a city’s standard landmarks. “You don’t pay attention to the space between the landmarks, and the way we look at history is the same—we only remember the so-called important historical events.”
Therein, Suh says, lies his challenge as an artist. “It’s an existential question of what we believe in this world—there are a lot of holes, but we try to believe it’s whole, the way a lot of people see the house [sculpture] as an exact replica. …”
Zoom Info
do ho suh Apartment A, Corridor and Staircase, 348 West 22nd Street, New York, NY 10011, USA, 2011–2012. Polyester fabric and stainless steel tubes.Apartment A, 271 1/3 x 169 3/10 x 96 7/16 inches. Corridor and Staircase, 488 3/16 x 66 1/8 x 96 7/16 inches. Courtesy the artist and Lehmann Maupin, New York and Hong Kong.
based on his personal memories of architectural spaces, both of his parents’ traditional Korean house in Seoul and his own Western-style apartment in New York. ‘The space I’m interested in is not only a physical one, but an intangible, metaphorical, and psychological one,’ he has said. 
he covered every inch of the interior—walls, floors, ceiling, refrigerator, window air conditioner—with paper, then rubbed with a blue-colored pencil, the way a child might preserve the memory of a leaf in the fall.  "Rubbing is a different interpretation of space. It’s quite sensuous—very physical and quite sexual," … Viewers were invited to enter some of the installations, heightening the sensation of being in a home, or the memory of one. Suh recalls how his brother, an architect, was disconcerted to see strangers wandering under a version of their family home at a 2000 exhibition at New York’s P.S. 1 museum. … "It’s intrinsically impossible to make them exact," he says. "I wanted to achieve something intangible. It’s about memory, time spent in the space."  … For the 2012 Gwangju Biennale in South Korea, for example, Suh recalled the massacre of civilians that followed a protest there in 1980. “News was censored, so we didn’t know what was going on,” Suh says. “When I read the newspaper it was a patch of blanks—that never left me. When school started we students heard what happened in Gwangju from students who were there. Everything was fragmented. I was living only four hours away and didn’t understand what was happening—it made me think about the problems of writing history.”
In response, Suh made rubbings of three spaces around the city. “That’s a lot of rubbing,” he laughs. He and his crew wore blindfolds for one of the rubbings, both as a means of intensifying the already tactile experience of an unfamiliar place and as a metaphor. “I didn’t want to pretend to know about Gwangju,” he says, offering the analogy of tourists visiting a city’s standard landmarks. “You don’t pay attention to the space between the landmarks, and the way we look at history is the same—we only remember the so-called important historical events.”
Therein, Suh says, lies his challenge as an artist. “It’s an existential question of what we believe in this world—there are a lot of holes, but we try to believe it’s whole, the way a lot of people see the house [sculpture] as an exact replica. …”
Zoom Info
do ho suh Apartment A, Corridor and Staircase, 348 West 22nd Street, New York, NY 10011, USA, 2011–2012. Polyester fabric and stainless steel tubes.Apartment A, 271 1/3 x 169 3/10 x 96 7/16 inches. Corridor and Staircase, 488 3/16 x 66 1/8 x 96 7/16 inches. Courtesy the artist and Lehmann Maupin, New York and Hong Kong.
based on his personal memories of architectural spaces, both of his parents’ traditional Korean house in Seoul and his own Western-style apartment in New York. ‘The space I’m interested in is not only a physical one, but an intangible, metaphorical, and psychological one,’ he has said. 
he covered every inch of the interior—walls, floors, ceiling, refrigerator, window air conditioner—with paper, then rubbed with a blue-colored pencil, the way a child might preserve the memory of a leaf in the fall.  "Rubbing is a different interpretation of space. It’s quite sensuous—very physical and quite sexual," … Viewers were invited to enter some of the installations, heightening the sensation of being in a home, or the memory of one. Suh recalls how his brother, an architect, was disconcerted to see strangers wandering under a version of their family home at a 2000 exhibition at New York’s P.S. 1 museum. … "It’s intrinsically impossible to make them exact," he says. "I wanted to achieve something intangible. It’s about memory, time spent in the space."  … For the 2012 Gwangju Biennale in South Korea, for example, Suh recalled the massacre of civilians that followed a protest there in 1980. “News was censored, so we didn’t know what was going on,” Suh says. “When I read the newspaper it was a patch of blanks—that never left me. When school started we students heard what happened in Gwangju from students who were there. Everything was fragmented. I was living only four hours away and didn’t understand what was happening—it made me think about the problems of writing history.”
In response, Suh made rubbings of three spaces around the city. “That’s a lot of rubbing,” he laughs. He and his crew wore blindfolds for one of the rubbings, both as a means of intensifying the already tactile experience of an unfamiliar place and as a metaphor. “I didn’t want to pretend to know about Gwangju,” he says, offering the analogy of tourists visiting a city’s standard landmarks. “You don’t pay attention to the space between the landmarks, and the way we look at history is the same—we only remember the so-called important historical events.”
Therein, Suh says, lies his challenge as an artist. “It’s an existential question of what we believe in this world—there are a lot of holes, but we try to believe it’s whole, the way a lot of people see the house [sculpture] as an exact replica. …”
Zoom Info

do ho suh Apartment A, Corridor and Staircase, 348 West 22nd Street, New York, NY 10011, USA, 2011–2012. Polyester fabric and stainless steel tubes.Apartment A, 271 1/3 x 169 3/10 x 96 7/16 inches. Corridor and Staircase, 488 3/16 x 66 1/8 x 96 7/16 inches. Courtesy the artist and Lehmann Maupin, New York and Hong Kong.

based on his personal memories of architectural spaces, both of his parents’ traditional Korean house in Seoul and his own Western-style apartment in New York. ‘The space I’m interested in is not only a physical one, but an intangible, metaphorical, and psychological one,’ he has said. 

he covered every inch of the interior—walls, floors, ceiling, refrigerator, window air conditioner—with paper, then rubbed with a blue-colored pencil, the way a child might preserve the memory of a leaf in the fall.  "Rubbing is a different interpretation of space. It’s quite sensuous—very physical and quite sexual," … Viewers were invited to enter some of the installations, heightening the sensation of being in a home, or the memory of one. Suh recalls how his brother, an architect, was disconcerted to see strangers wandering under a version of their family home at a 2000 exhibition at New York’s P.S. 1 museum. … "It’s intrinsically impossible to make them exact," he says. "I wanted to achieve something intangible. It’s about memory, time spent in the space."  … For the 2012 Gwangju Biennale in South Korea, for example, Suh recalled the massacre of civilians that followed a protest there in 1980. “News was censored, so we didn’t know what was going on,” Suh says. “When I read the newspaper it was a patch of blanks—that never left me. When school started we students heard what happened in Gwangju from students who were there. Everything was fragmented. I was living only four hours away and didn’t understand what was happening—it made me think about the problems of writing history.”

In response, Suh made rubbings of three spaces around the city. “That’s a lot of rubbing,” he laughs. He and his crew wore blindfolds for one of the rubbings, both as a means of intensifying the already tactile experience of an unfamiliar place and as a metaphor. “I didn’t want to pretend to know about Gwangju,” he says, offering the analogy of tourists visiting a city’s standard landmarks. “You don’t pay attention to the space between the landmarks, and the way we look at history is the same—we only remember the so-called important historical events.”

Therein, Suh says, lies his challenge as an artist. “It’s an existential question of what we believe in this world—there are a lot of holes, but we try to believe it’s whole, the way a lot of people see the house [sculpture] as an exact replica. …”

hiphophoorayradio:

now’s your chance to support your fave radio show - hip hop hooray! call in at 512.472.KOOP or donate at koop.org. the sooner we reach our $800 goal, the more hip hop we can play on the air today!

hiphophoorayradio:

now’s your chance to support your fave radio show - hip hop hooray! call in at 512.472.KOOP or donate at koop.org. the sooner we reach our $800 goal, the more hip hop we can play on the air today!

thepeoplesrecord:

Columbia student will carry her mattress until her rapist exits schoolSeptember 2, 2014
While most students at Columbia University will spend the first day of classes carrying backpacks and books, Emma Sulkowicz will start her semester on Tuesday with a far heavier burden. The senior plans on carrying an extra-long, twin-size mattress across the quad and through each New York City building – to every class, every day – until the man she says raped her moves off campus.
“I was raped in my own bed,” Sulkowicz told me the other day, as she was gearing up to head back to school in this, the year American colleges are finally, supposedly, ready to do something about sexual assault. “I could have taken my pillow, but I want people to see how it weighs down a person to be ignored by the school administration and harassed by police.”
Sulkowicz is one of three women who made complaints to Columbia against the same fellow senior, who was found “not responsible” in all three cases. She also filed a police report, but Sulkowicz was treated abysmally – by the cops, and by a Columbia disciplinary panel so uneducated about the scourge of campus violence that one panelist asked how it was possible to be anally raped without lubrication.
So Sulkowicz joined a federal complaint in April over Columbia’s mishandling of sexual misconduct cases, and she will will hoist that mattress on her shoulders as part savvy activism, part performance art. “The administration can end the piece, by expelling him,” she says, “or he can, by leaving campus.”
Read more
As painful as I know the constant reminder of attending school with her rapist must be, I’m glad she won’t be the only one forced to remember. I hope the rapist drops out immediately…or better yet, I hope he faces the justice he deserves. 
Zoom Info
thepeoplesrecord:

Columbia student will carry her mattress until her rapist exits schoolSeptember 2, 2014
While most students at Columbia University will spend the first day of classes carrying backpacks and books, Emma Sulkowicz will start her semester on Tuesday with a far heavier burden. The senior plans on carrying an extra-long, twin-size mattress across the quad and through each New York City building – to every class, every day – until the man she says raped her moves off campus.
“I was raped in my own bed,” Sulkowicz told me the other day, as she was gearing up to head back to school in this, the year American colleges are finally, supposedly, ready to do something about sexual assault. “I could have taken my pillow, but I want people to see how it weighs down a person to be ignored by the school administration and harassed by police.”
Sulkowicz is one of three women who made complaints to Columbia against the same fellow senior, who was found “not responsible” in all three cases. She also filed a police report, but Sulkowicz was treated abysmally – by the cops, and by a Columbia disciplinary panel so uneducated about the scourge of campus violence that one panelist asked how it was possible to be anally raped without lubrication.
So Sulkowicz joined a federal complaint in April over Columbia’s mishandling of sexual misconduct cases, and she will will hoist that mattress on her shoulders as part savvy activism, part performance art. “The administration can end the piece, by expelling him,” she says, “or he can, by leaving campus.”
Read more
As painful as I know the constant reminder of attending school with her rapist must be, I’m glad she won’t be the only one forced to remember. I hope the rapist drops out immediately…or better yet, I hope he faces the justice he deserves. 
Zoom Info

thepeoplesrecord:

Columbia student will carry her mattress until her rapist exits school
September 2, 2014

While most students at Columbia University will spend the first day of classes carrying backpacks and books, Emma Sulkowicz will start her semester on Tuesday with a far heavier burden. The senior plans on carrying an extra-long, twin-size mattress across the quad and through each New York City building – to every class, every day – until the man she says raped her moves off campus.

“I was raped in my own bed,” Sulkowicz told me the other day, as she was gearing up to head back to school in this, the year American colleges are finally, supposedly, ready to do something about sexual assault. “I could have taken my pillow, but I want people to see how it weighs down a person to be ignored by the school administration and harassed by police.”

Sulkowicz is one of three women who made complaints to Columbia against the same fellow senior, who was found “not responsible” in all three cases. She also filed a police report, but Sulkowicz was treated abysmally – by the cops, and by a Columbia disciplinary panel so uneducated about the scourge of campus violence that one panelist asked how it was possible to be anally raped without lubrication.

So Sulkowicz joined a federal complaint in April over Columbia’s mishandling of sexual misconduct cases, and she will will hoist that mattress on her shoulders as part savvy activism, part performance art. “The administration can end the piece, by expelling him,” she says, “or he can, by leaving campus.”

Read more

As painful as I know the constant reminder of attending school with her rapist must be, I’m glad she won’t be the only one forced to remember. I hope the rapist drops out immediately…or better yet, I hope he faces the justice he deserves. 

(via onehundredviolins)

lazz:

lazz:

#SOCIALMEDIAANXIETIES is officially out! The first-ever compilation of affective accounts on social media (and a thing I kind of thought would never happen). Thanks to everyone who submitted.
View at ISSUU or download here. 

I’m gonna be making a few FULL-COLOR PRINT COPIES of the zine for the opening of Subplot Zine Shop in ATL. You want one? Let me know and I can factor it in at the press.

I want one. But I’m not in ATL. If that’s no good that’s OK.

lazz:

lazz:

#SOCIALMEDIAANXIETIES is officially out! The first-ever compilation of affective accounts on social media (and a thing I kind of thought would never happen). Thanks to everyone who submitted.

View at ISSUU or download here

I’m gonna be making a few FULL-COLOR PRINT COPIES of the zine for the opening of Subplot Zine Shop in ATL. You want one? Let me know and I can factor it in at the press.

I want one. But I’m not in ATL. If that’s no good that’s OK.