This is the studio in October light as photographed by Lili Ong. I’m working on more
pieces for my Antarctic research station series at the moment. The next couple will
focus on Chinese bases, inspired by our summer visit to Shanghai’s Polar Research
Institute of China.

The show’s filmmakers and artists include David Ahuja, Jon Audarson, Michael Bartalos, Spencer Bewle, Rob Bindler, Adam Calvert, Matt Campbell, Manuel Dilone, Paul Eng, Rob Erickson, Jenny Figaroa, Greg Hill, John Hobbs, Guido Jiménez Cruz, Philip Kelly, Raina Kumra, Todd Lamb, Ruth Mamaril, Anthony Marinelli, Ted McGrath, Bill Moulton, Christian Svanes Kolding, Russ Stark, Takako, and David Art Wales.

There will be drinks and music, and videos will be shown throughout the space on four projectors. Sounds like fun and if you go, be sure to say hi to my talented designer friend John Tymkiw who conceived and curated the program.

For those who can’t make the show (like myself), the video collection will eventually be posted to supershortvideo.com. (I’ll post my piece here then too).

Secret Project Robot is at 210 Kent Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11211.
Tel. 917.860.8282.
Directions, hours, and info at secretprojectrobot.org.

Pochoir is an ancient printmaking technique that attained great popularity in the early 20th century among artists and designers to produce bold designs and patterns in vibrant colors. It requires no printing press and allows for variation in texture, opacity, and color between prints since the medium is applied by hand. Its manual aspect however is time- and labor-intensive, especially with layered and large pochoirs such as these (roughly 24″
x 18″), which accounts for my run of just four copies this time around. Still, I’m making the most of it by printing each on a different colored paper, slightly varying the placement of the stencils, and embellishing each with graphite for a certain degree of uniqueness.

More information about the tools, paints, and concept behind these prints will follow upon the edition’s completion in a week or two. In the meanwhile, stay tuned for more Long View Project news in the next couple days.

A first step in the process is preparing the base panels. Above, Lili Ong applies gesso to the panels’ fronts and sides to create white acid-free surfaces for paper collages to adhere to.

Other panels will support wood constructions inspired by the recycled Venesta boards at Shackleton’s hut at Cape Royds.

I’m working on several pieces simultaneously, shuttling them between the walls and work tables. I’ll be posting updates on the series as it develops, as well as new sketchbook pages, small-panel studies, and the ongoing photo-documentation of my Antarctic item collection.

Big thanks to Lili and my pal Eric Hoffman for their invaluable assistance and creative inspiration in the studio.

Learn more about the Long View Project in my post-Ice Q & A with The Antarctic Sun,
the official online news site for the United States Antarctic Program. The site provides
news articles and features about polar science and life in Antarctica, and is edited by
Peter Rejcek who conducted the interview.

The depth of the completed artworks will vary depending on how much the base layers
get built out to support dimensional objects and elements. Expect to see more sketch-
book entries and maquettes here before they take final form.

In the top photos: I’m priming the final panels needing gesso, and have tracked down
the loose-pin hinges ideal for assembling and disassembling my panels for exhibition.
These hinges are the type used for attaching theater scenery flats.

In the bottom pictures, my basic art-making tools: Straight edge, #11 X-acto, pencil, kneaded eraser, bone folder, cut paper and pH neutral PVA adhesive.

My studio, along with three others, is situated over the Unimart shop in San Francisco’s SOMA district. The distinctive green building lies 3.5 miles east of the Academy.

Two skylights and a large picture window bathe the room in natural light throughout
the day. As the project ramps up, the tidy work surfaces at this end are bound to evolve…

…into something resembling this end where I create my sketchbook entries. The piece
seen in progress here is page 003, shown completed below.

I originally expected to fill my sketchbook with technical notes and drawings in figuring
out how to create this project, but it’s not proving necessary. Kind of disappointing
since Leonardo-style notebooks are so utterly cool, but at least my approach fulfills
its aims. Which is to say, I’ve come to formulate the direction of this project more
clearly with every cut-paper composition I create.

How is that possible in the absence of diagrammatical plans? Because the challenge
isn’t in engineering the final structure (I worked that out in my head weeks ago) as
much as in sustaining an improvisational, experimental approach to creating my art-
works from start to finish. That process can’t be planned; however, it can be practiced
and that’s what I’m attempting here.

I’m working on several sketchbook entries at once. I jump around from page to page trying different shapes, experimenting with arrangements, trying to keep it spontaneous. (Or at least spontaneous-looking…) I’m not as concerned with the color palette (yet) as I am with developing the image vocabulary.

So far I’ve posted pieces I like. By the time I get around to showing the duds, I hope to have some nice sculptural pieces to show instead;)

That part should be under way within a couple weeks. I just found the specialty hinges that will string my vignettes together, a necessary step in determining the type of panels I’ll build my assemblages on. I’ll elaborate more on these technical aspects when the time comes. Till then, more cut paper and found Antarctic objects to follow…

My recent sketchbook entries are stream-of-consciousness pieces that allude to my Antarctic collections and recollections. I’m less interested in literal depictions than capturing the essence of these objects and experiences. I’ve found that a less med-
itated approach often yields more interesting and energetic compositions — in and
outside of the sketchbook.