"Legacy / Dylan in Woodstock", curated by Colleen Kenyon, January 13 - March 11, 2001

LEGACY / Dylan in Woodstock


curated by Colleen Kenyon

January 13 – March 11, 2001

LEGEND…myth, fable, romance, fiction, celebrity, phenomenon, wonder, luminary…LEGACY…gift, bequest.

In celebration of our Woodstock building and its history as home to both Bob Dylan and the legendary Espresso Café, we present photographs of this musician, often in Woodstock, created by regional and national photographers.

 Music…art…it’s what defines Woodstock – and why we are celebrated as –  the small town known around the world.

Bob Dylan is the voice of a generation, a part of our cultural fabric, and a national treasure. For four decades, his songs, recordings, and performances have been sources of inspiration and discovery for people of all ages.

(-from the book Early Dylan, photographs by Barry Feinstein, Daniel Kramer, Jim Marshall, foreword by Arlo Guthrie, published in 1999 by Bulfinch Press)

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the theme song for a generation….

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won’t come again
And don’t speak too soon
For the wheel’s still in spin
And there’s no tellin’ who
That it’s namin’.
For the lower now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin’.

-THE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGIN’, Bob Dylan, first release 1964

Suddenly, in the late 60s, Bob Dylan retreated from his own myth and the tumult he helped inspire – the psychedelia, the student protests – to escape to rural domesticity in Woodstock, where he seems to have found a carefree happiness. A few months afterwards, on July 29, 1966, just before a scheduled 60-date tour of America, Dylan crashed his motorcycle on a back road in his adopted hometown of Woodstock, in upstate New York. A year later, in 1968, photographer Elliott Landy crossed paths with Bob Dylan in Woodstock. Landy was there to photograph The Band for the sleeve of their first album, Music From Big Pink, which had just been recorded in a house they called Big Pink in nearby West Saugerties. With hindsight, you can look at Landy’s photographs of The Band and see where Bob Dylan’s music was going; where Bob Dylan himself was going; backwards, inwards, as far away as possible from the modernist surge of his wild mercury sound. The other abiding presence on Dylan’s new pared-down music was Woodstock itself. A small town 100 miles up the Hudson River from New York, it had been a haven of sorts for nearly 80 years before Dylan’s arrival, providing clean air and privacy for successive generations of visual artists and writers on the run from the big cities of the east coast. In 1902, an Englishman called Ralph Radcliffe Whitehead, influenced by John Ruskin’s writings, had set up an artistic colony there called Byrdcliffe, which comprised workshops, studios, homes and even craft schools. In the 1940s, Leadbelly, the great blues singer, passed through, as did Pete Seeger, who, alongside Dylan, became a leading light of the early 1960s folk revival. (Seeger had been so incensed by Dylan’s 1965 electric set at Newport that he grabbed an axe and tried to hack through the cables and leads that snaked around the stage.)

By the mid-60s, Woodstock was home to a small group of aging beatniks and proto-hippies, whose dissolute lifestyles incensed the local town fathers, who drafted by-laws against loitering and skinny-dipping. Their efforts were in vain, however, and in 1969 the town entered rock history when the Woodstock Festival, held on nearby farmland, attracted more than half-a-million people and the site was declared a national emergency zone. Oneway or another, Woodstock has been living with the fallout of the festival ever since, though it does its best to remain resolutely unaffected by the yearly influx of tourists, many of whom want to revisit the site. Bob Dylan’s Woodstock, on the other hand, was an altogether more sedate place. He first visited the town in 1963, writing songs in a wooden house belonging to Peter Yarrow, who had found fame as one third of the folk group Peter, Paul & Mary. By 1965, Dylan had forsaken Manhattan and was living there, first in one of the original Byrdcliffe colony houses, then, when fans started calling at his door, in a more remote house on Ohayo Mountain. Following the motorcycle accident, nothing was heard of Dylan for 18 months. While he lived a life of domestic contentment in Woodstock with wife, rumors of illness, even death, heightened the myth he had tried so hard to shed. And that, ultimately, is what these photographs of Bob Dylan, rock’s supreme artist, capture: his brief dalliance in “the bliss of the commonplace.” More than anything else, they made me think that it is a long time since Dylan looked or sounded happy, or even content. You have to look back to the time when these extraordinary photographs were taken, to that brief period in Woodstock, when the icon that was Bob Dylan transmogrified into a humble human being. At a defining moment, when the music he was making and the words he was writing had helped ferment the cultural upheaval of the late 1960s, he did the bravest thing he could possibly do – he looked inwards and began, for a brief while at least, to heal himself. Remember him, too, this way. (- from All I Really Want To Do, by Sean O’Hagan, August 26, 2000, The Guardian Weekend, London)

By 1962, Albert Grossman became Dylan’s manager. On August 9, 1962, Dylan went to court in NYC and codified his switch from Zimmerman to Dylan. I think it was a year later, during the summer of 1963, that Dylan first came to Woodstock, spending a month with Suze Rotolo, his girlfriend of the time, at Peter Yarrow’s cabin. By the years 1964 and 1965 he seemed to spend almost as much time in Woodstock as in New York City. In August 1964, for instance, Dylan invited Joan Baez, Mimi Fariña, and Dick Fariña to Woodstock where they would housesit at Albert and Sally Grossman’s house in Byrdcliffe. Around this time Dylan had his celebrated relationship with Baez, who would sing his new songs hot off the typewriter. In Woodstock Dylan would also see his future wife Sara Lowndes, a close friend of Sally Grossman. His gift for melody and inspired image was brought to great heights in this beautiful landscape. One example is the spring of 1965 when he spent here a month of intense songwriting, having just purchased his own house near Grossman’s in Byrdcliffe. It was a few weeks before his famous and then-controversial electric set at the Newport Folk Festival. That June, the great guitarist Mike Bloomfield, then with the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, came up to Woodstock to work with Dylan on tunes for Highway 61 Revisited. In November of 1965, Dylan married Sara Lowndes, a marriage that would last until 1978. In early 1966 their son Jesse was born.. (-from Bob Dylan in Woodstock, by Edward Sanders, Woodstock Journal, March 3-17, 2000).

The Center for Photography at Woodstock, a contemporary visual arts venue, has always been home to music and exhibitions. Previously CPW has showcased the collaborations of both arts in the exhibitions Woodstock Remembered: The Twentieth Anniversary (1989) and Woodstock Music and Art (1999). The famed Café Espresso of the 1960s, located on the main floor of our building, saw the birth of a great folk music revival. Bob Dylan lived for a time in 1964 on the second floor of what is now CPW’s classroom, library, and offices. Here he wrote the songs It Ain’t Me Babe, Subterranean Homesick Blues, and Mr. Tambourine Man. While in Woodstock Dylan worked with musicians Peter, Paul and Mary, Joan Baez, John Sebastian, The Band, and Happy Traum. As CPW’s tenant, in 1988, the Espresso was replaced by the Tinker Street Café, who presented a diverse range of national and local talent until 1998. Dylan had moved to the Byrdcliffe art colony of Woodstock in 1965, and later owned a home on Ohayo Mountain Road. He still owns property in Woodstock to this day.

— Colleen Kenyon, January 2001

Special thanks to the artists in the show, Deborah Bell, Julie Gallant at Fotofolio, Andrea Stern, Ed Sanders, Mary Lou Paturel, Doug James, Brian Sobie, Kitty McCullough, CPW’s staff – Kate Menconeri, Ariel Shanberg, Larry Lewis, Kathleen Kenyon, and Judi Esmond; and to my parents who first brought me to Woodstock in 1952.

[one_half first]"Legacy / Dylan in Woodstock", January 13 - March 11, 2001John Cohen[/one_half]

[one_half]"Legacy / Dylan in Woodstock", January 13 - March 11, 2001Lynn Goldsmith[/one_half]

[one_half first]"Legacy / Dylan in Woodstock", January 13 - March 11, 2001Daniel Kramer[/one_half]

[one_half]"Legacy / Dylan in Woodstock", January 13 - March 11, 2001Elliott Landy[/one_half]

At A Remove


curated by William Stover

artists: Gerard Byrne, Andrea Geyer, Kate MacDonnell, Mary McIntyre, Robert Toedter, and Jean West

November 11 – December 20, 2000

Utopian visions of a world becoming knitted closer together by new technologies and communication networks that have developed over the past several decades, have by now lost much of their luster.

Some even see the World Wide Web as leading not to a utopia of complete connectedness but rather a dystopia of disembodied disconnectedness. What implications does this have for individuals who can communicate with strangers half way round the world in seconds, and yet do not even know those who live next door. Other technologies and media such as television, in much the same way as the Internet, have changed the way people see and perceive images, they run past our eyes so fast that we never grasp them in entirety, we only see fragments and distortion. This partial way of experiencing the world, the part vs. the whole, leads to an isolation and loneliness which affects our relationship, not only with the world in general, but with other individuals specifically. It can be argued however, that the virtual world exists only in parts and the whole is constructed by us as we sit at the computer and reconstruct and refigure these parts as whole. This partial way of viewing the world exists not only in the virtual world, but also in the “real” world.

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This exhibition reflects a level of perception that is specific to the late 20th century and, one can argue, will only worsen as the 21st century unfolds. Much has been written and many discussions have taken place at the dawn of the new century about this phenomena, which is currently being explored in various ways by psychologists, theologians, cultural critics, as well as artists. There is a sense of isolation: physical, political, spiritual and psychological – both the artists and their subjects seem detached, atomized, affectless in a world that is more disconnected than ever before. A study published in American Psychologist, the Journal of the American Psychological Association in August of 2000 found that although the Internet’s overall impact has yet to be determined, “greater use of the Internet was associated with declines in participants’ communication with family members in the household, declines in the size of their social circle, and increases in their depression and loneliness.” Are we becoming a race of individuals who withdraw from the social world into a virtual world where we masquerade our identity and communicate, not as ourselves, but as another being? Are we beginning to be at a remove from the rest of the world?

The figures in Robert Toedter’s (Boston, Massachusetts) photographs are at a remove from the photographer. Toedter does not interact with his subjects – with others in the world – he secretly captures his subjects with a telephoto lens (usually from behind using a video camera) and the resulting grainy prints have the same feel as live remote feed from the wed. There is a fear and distance in this work which seems to be born out of the contemporary phenomena of life surveyed through a cold and calculated video eye. As with the reality based TV by which so much of our society is enthralled, Toedter’s is life viewed, not life experienced.

If Toedter steps away from his human subject, Gerard Byrne (Dublin, Ireland) turns his back on them altogether. Pointing his lens away from the street and into storefront windows, the subtle, almost ghostly reflections of lights in the pane of glass are the only indication that Byrne is positioned on the street. Paul Virilio in “The Overexposed City”, writes a postmodern city of glass, this one differing from the modernist version by the evolution of the physical city into a simulated one – dominated by the glass of the computer screen and surveillance monitor, a city of pure surface. Byrne’s photographs reflect (both literally and figuratively) on the history of street photography while subsequently drawing out attention to the contemporary phenomenon that we now gather our knowledge of the world through a computer monitor and that we are constantly watched through a surveillance camera.

Mary McIntyre (Belfast, Northern Ireland) presents the viewer with absence as a metaphor for loss. We are confronted with a haunting quality that something is missing, that something is not quite right. In these works, objects and arrangements that would normally suggest human presence take on a peculiarly eerie feeling. Furniture and various objects of human activity seem to be caught in a moment of frozen time, meant to be used by humans, they have no function without the presence of individuals using them for their intended purposes.

Much in the same vein, Andrea Geyer’s (NYC, New York) photographs of corporate board rooms have a frigid and unsettling presence. With an interest in the “structure of social interactivity”, Geyer portrays the psychology of these spaces. As a site usually thought of as a place of power, the absence of the “Captains of Industry” highlights the role that architecture plays in the manufacture of modern business practice. In their work, both Geyer and McIntyre do more than document architectural spaces and places of supposed human interaction. They suggest a world where architecture still functions symbolically but no longer functions as a space of activity. These activities now happen in a virtual space.

Kate MacDonnell (Washington D.C.) photographs the most familiar and intimate signs of human habitation – stacks of bed pillows, a family photograph over a mantel, house plants on top of unopened moving boxes – in scenes empty of human occupancy. These spaces, somehow seem very personal to the artist, yet at the same time feel personal to the viewer. These are places we have all been. These are activities that we have all engaged in. Even those photographs that MacDonnell takes in public spaces, have a private and familiar quality to the viewer. Yet, for all their familiarity, there is something strangely missing from these works.

Similarly, Jean West (Belfast, Northern Ireland) photographs private and intimate spaces. As an artist who normally works in a site-specific manner, West began by using photography to document spaces she discovered for her other work. The artist looks for some trace of human presence – to which she feels a connection. Although not always fully visible in her dark and hauntingly evocative images, the remnants of human activity suggest the life that has passed through these spaces but is now absent. Although quite different in color and feel, the compositions of both MacDonnell and West evoke the presence of the life now missing from our eyes and we are left with the subtle evidence of a human trace.

As we move swiftly into the 21st century, are our traditional ways of socialization and interaction becoming outmoded? How will these issues be reflected in contemporary photography? Will photographers continue to reflect the distance and distortion we experience in our society or will they move into romantic and nostalgic visions of the world we once knew? Will they continue to create their own realities and turn their lens away from the life around them or will they return to the streets to capture the frenetic pace around them? Throughout the history of the medium, the focus may have shifted from subject to subject or idea to idea, however, photography never stopped mirroring society. As technology forces humans to become either closer or more at a remove from one another, photography will continue to reflect where we are and how we perceive the world. Just as the six artists here struggle to maintain humanity in their works through the human element is reduced to shadowy pixels of a surveillance image or the symbolic architecture of board rooms or the outlines of footprints on a bath mat.

–        William Stover, 2000

William Stover is currently the Curatorial Administrator and Publications Manager at the New Museum of Contemporary Art in New York where he is working on various aspects of the exhibitions Picturing the Modern Amazon, Paul McCarthy, and Pierre et Gilles among others.  Formerly, Exhibitions Associate at Independent Curators International, Mr. Stover coordinated the loans, catalogue production and national tour of the retrospective exhibition Lee Krasner which will open at the Brooklyn Museum of Art in October of this year. As an independent curator and writer, some of Stover’s exhibitions include Who do you think you are? which included artists Richard Prince, Leon Golub, Larry Clark, Daniel Mirer, and Jason Middlebrook; and Alternative:Alternative, an exhibition held at Roebling Hall in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, which examined the role and history of  SPOT an alternative space in New York City. Working in collaboration with artist Laurie Halsey Brown, Stover is curating the exhibition At A Remove which will be on view at the Center for Photography at Woodstock from October – November, 2000. Mr. Stover, who moved to New York in 1995 to attend the Center for Curatorial Studies, Bard College currently serves on Steering Committee’s of the New Arts Advocates of the New York Foundation for the Arts, and the ICI-Independents.


[one_half first]"At A Remove", curated by William Stover, November 11 – December 20, 2000Gerard Byrne[/one_half] [one_half]"At A Remove", curated by William Stover, November 11 – December 20, 2000Andrea Geyer[/one_half] [one_half first]"At A Remove", curated by William Stover, November 11 – December 20, 2000Kate MacDonnell[/one_half] [one_half]"At A Remove", curated by William Stover, November 11 – December 20, 2000Mary McIntyre[/one_half] [one_half first]"At A Remove", curated by William Stover, November 11 – December 20, 2000Robert Toedter[/one_half] [one_half]"At A Remove", curated by William Stover, November 11 – December 20, 2000Jean West[/one_half]

Tatana Kellner

Tatana Kellner


November 11 – December 20, 2000

As an artist I am concerned with the human condition both historically and in the present time. In my work I try to transcend the everyday experience in a way that will stir both my own and viewer’s emotions.

I grapple with the baggage of the accumulated information and wonder about the possibility of original vision.

I choose the medium of photography to contemplate these issues. In a culture where words are more accessible than visual images, I create photographs that bridge the gap and engage the viewer. In this age of media over saturation I seek the challenges of photographic images as a mirror of ourselves. I consciously employ non-traditional processes to break down the barriers between the work and the viewer. I am interested in images that force the viewer to suspend time and belief.

Recently I began printing images on alternative surfaces such as leaves, ceramic slabs, stones, and handmade paper as a way to actually give physical dimension to traditional black-and-white photography – the media which visually records the third dimension on a two dimensional surface. In Arcticum Lappa – Tenacious Leaves, Tenacious Memories, I placed photographs directly on burdock leaves. I am intrigued by the contrast of the leaf – an epitome of ephemera and the stubbornness of the burdock plant itself – with its forty-foot long roots – making the plant almost impossible to eradicate. In my most recent project, Eye Witness, I printed images of the eye on handmade paper shaped “stones”. The eyes are metaphors – as witnesses, harbingers of truth, premonitions, and signifiers of beauty.

TATANA KELLNER, the artistic director and co-founder of the Women’s Studio Workshop, was born in Prague, Czechoslovakia. She began her professional career in 1974 when she graduated with a MFA from the Rochester Institute of Technology and moved to Rosendale. There she helped to found the Women’s Studio Workshop, a visual arts workspace offering programs for professional artists. Kellner, stimulated by the Workshop atmosphere, has worked continuously across several media including printmaking, papermaking, photography, and most recently ceramics, though her involvement with photography has been the basis for all of her work.

Tatana has been a resident fellow at the MacDowell Colony, Yaddo, the Banff Centre for the Arts, and the Virginia Center for Creative Arts. She has also been awarded residency fellowship grants from the Visual Studies Workshop, Lightwork, and the University of Southern Maine. A two-time recipient of the Photographers’ Fellowship Grants given by the New York Foundation for the Arts and Center for Photography at Woodstock’s Photographer’s Fund Fellowship, Kellner has had solo exhibits at the Goldstrom Gallery, NYC; Lake George Project for the Arts; CEPA Gallery, Buffalo; Society for Contemporary Photography, Kansas City; Center for Visual Arts at the University of Toledo; and at the Kirkland Arts Center Gallery, Hamilton. She received a special award from the New York State Council on the Arts to publish artists’ books about her parents’ experiences as Holocaust survivors, 711225: Fifty Years of Silence and B-11227: Fifty Years of Silence. Her work is included in the collections at the Albright Knox Art Gallery, New York Public Library, Museum of Modern Art Library, Metropolitan Museum Library, Tate Gallery Library, and the National Gallery of Art Library. In her work at WSW she serves as a curator and has taught and lectured throughout the country at the following – American Photography Institute at New York University, State University of New York at New Paltz, Feminist Art Institute of NYC, Skidmore College, Rochester Institute of Technology, and University of Santa Cruz.


Lili Almog

Lili Almog

September 9 – October 22, 2000

I choreograph photographic portraits in private bedroom settings. The image that results reveals the exchange between artist and model. The portraits disclose character rather than a simple document of a moment in time.

Following this encounter, I alter the photographs on the computer with drawings and writing. The transformations from the original photograph blur fiction and reality and allow me to offer a personal visual comment on the shared experience.

My portraits of women in their private chambers reveal and uncover the layers of personality that may be beneath what is overtly apparent. While a common theme directs my actions, each portrait becomes a kind of unplanned exploration of the sitter and myself. I’ve chosen the bedroom as the stage because it is both a comfortable place to undress personality and a place where people can loose consciousness and self-consciousness. The bed itself is a place where one relinquishes absolute control and permits unseen aspects of oneself to emerge.

The graphic drawings and writing I add are loose – at times they appear to be a scribble – moving across the surface of the image in response to the figure within. On many of the pictures I superimpose a mask, which can act as a technical agent to generate a distinctive personality or character. I see the mask as a bridge between non-western ritual and contemporary forms of manipulation, disguise, and social camouflage. In other images I present the bedroom empty and bereft of its resident. Through collage and drawings I infuse the space with a new presence of my own invention.

LILI ALMOG studied photography at the Camera Obscura School in Tel Aviv before moving to New York City in 1985. In New York, Lili worked as a photojournalist for international news publications and focused on fashion and portraiture. To concentrate on her artwork, she enrolled in the School of Visual Arts and graduated with honors in 1992. Almog created surreal collages of heads and women figures from disparate centuries. “I built contemporary images by rearranging older ones, inspired by the cycles of history.” In her recent Mask series, she blends contemporary portraits with ancient disguises. Her work has been exhibited in the U.S., Europe, Australia, and Israel at venues including the Goodwin-Ternbach Museum, NYC, the Alternative Museum, NYC, the Houston Center for Photography, and the Schneider Gallery, Chicago. Almog has been commissioned to produce book and compact disc art covers for Koch International, CRI records, BiCameral, and has been published in New York Magazine, Photo District News, The Village Voice, and Four By Five Art Magazine.


Liliana Porter

Liliana Porter


July 15 – August 27, 2000

This exhibition contains black-and-white and Cibachrome photographs selected from the years 1995 through 2000. Some include collage or assemblage. They present toys, figurines, and objects taken from popular culture standing in isolated empty spaces.

Sometimes I create dialogues among them, theatrical situations. The characters act as recipients of our subjectivity. They seem not to understand, they are in a lonely space, and in a state of perplexity.
The subjects presented in these photographs are
the nature of representation itself
the displacement of context constructing new meanings
the overlapping of times and origins
the hybridization of categories
the role of the viewer

The “characters” in Liliana Porter’s photographs appear either alone, in pairs, or in small groups, but they always hold silent conversations… Her images are deprived of action. The characters just stand there staring at us. But this apparent lack of activity is replaced by “monologues” and “dialogues.” The “ dumb” figures tap on our memories and succeed in connecting our past and our present. Childhood innocence and vulnerable appearances fight against the seriousness and gravity transmitted by the images from their solitude – when alone – or against the irony of the imaginary talk that we spectators make them have or the imaginary relations that we create between them based on their appearance, on their contrast, or on the memory they bring us.

 As explained by Ana Tiscornia: “ [It is] a scene that takes place almost out of the scene itself, in the mind of the observer.” True, these characters never stop talking to us, tapping on our lost memories, asking subtle questions about heaven or earth. The images and characters of Liliana Porter come alive deep down inside us.

– Alberto Martin, catalog statement from Galeria Espacio Minimo

LILIANA PORTER was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina. Since 1964 she has resided in New York City. Porter is a printmaker, painter, photographer, and filmmaker. She is a tenured art professor at Queens College, NY. She has had solo exhibitions in the US, Columbia, Spain, Switzerland, Italy, Argentina, Poland, Mexico, Cuba, and Canada; and group shows at the Whitney Museum of American Art, the Brooklyn Museum, and Thread Waxing Space, all in NYC. She is a recipient of a Guggenheim, New York Foundation for the Arts, and Mid Atlantic/ National Endowment for the Arts Fellowships. Her prints are in the collections of the Museum of Modern Art, NYC; the Philadelphia Museum of Art; the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC, and the Museo Tamayo, Mexico City.


Moonlight Becomes You

Moonlight Becomes You

a Thousand and One Nights of Peace on Earth

curated by Kate Menconeri

July 15 – August 27, 2000

You’re all dressed up to go dreaming
Now don’t tell me I’m wrong
And what a night to go dreaming Mind if I tag along?

(Johnny Burke, Jimmy Van Heusen, from Moonlight Becomes You)

Let me tell you a story …
a tale of love and light …
of snakes and skulls,
seas and sand,
butterflies and moonbeams,
wind and hands,
slippers and lace,
castles and trains,
flowers and birds,
princes and frogs, acrobats … top hats …
a story not unlike that by Scheherazade
in the dark of the night
in the light of the moon
hope and fear, pleasure and pain, good and evil, love and hate, fragility and strength, joy and sorrow, life and death, dreams and nightmares, beauty and power…Does one exist without the other?

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In the tale of Scheherazade and the Thousand and One Nights a jealous king kills his wife after she betrays him with another lover. Consumed by his anger he marries and kills a new wife each day for many years until the day Scheherazade comes to take his hand. She fends off death by spinning rapturous tales for 1,001 nights. Each night she leaves her story incomplete with the promise to finish it the following night. The stories are so enchanting that the evil king – so eager to hear the end – puts off her execution from day to day until finally he abandons his cruel plan.

These artists, like magicians, transform the frog into a prince.
Just like Scheherazade, they are armed with history, philosophy, science, art, poetry, wisdom, and wit.
They hold the door of the past
and picture a world to come
Spinning light from darkness
they propel us into
1001 more nights of peace on earth.

Let the light stream forth
Into the minds of all

From the center which we call the human race
Let the plan of love and light work out
And may it seal the door where evil dwells

Let light and love and power
Restore the plan on earth

(- Alice Bailey, The Great Invocation)


[one_half first]"Moonlight Becomes You", curated by Kate Menconeri,  July 15 – August 27, 2000Jesseca Ferguson[/one_half] [one_half]"Moonlight Becomes You", curated by Kate Menconeri,  July 15 – August 27, 2000Kimberly Gremillion[/one_half] [one_half first]"Moonlight Becomes You", curated by Kate Menconeri,  July 15 – August 27, 2000Bohnchang Koo[/one_half] [one_half]"Moonlight Becomes You", curated by Kate Menconeri,  July 15 – August 27, 2000Gail LeBoff[/one_half] [one_half first]"Moonlight Becomes You", curated by Kate Menconeri,  July 15 – August 27, 2000Elisabeth Sinsabaugh[/one_half] [one_half]"Moonlight Becomes You", curated by Kate Menconeri,  July 15 – August 27, 2000Yoshi Sugitatsu[/one_half] [one_half first]"Moonlight Becomes You", curated by Kate Menconeri,  July 15 – August 27, 2000Nana Watanabe[/one_half] [hr]


Modern Fables of Love, Death, and Desire

curated by Kathleen Kenyon

artists: Davis & Davis, Cynthia Greig, Judy Hiramoto, Heather Ryan Kelley, Lori Newdick, and Susan Wides

May 27 – July 2, 2000

Artists are invited to a party
(Houdini and Joan of Arc are compatriots)
Ring in the New Year Out with the old
Here they become magicians
Endowed with powers of transformation

At the soiree are captivating favors
Glasses, which allow visions of past, present, and future
Here you find spyglasses: spectacles, binoculars, crystals, mirrors, slides, beakers,
projectors, tumblers, bifocals, opera glasses, looking glasses, and magnifying glasses.

At the affair are Pandora’s boxes, treasure chests, wishing wells, and piñatas.
Artists are encouraged to open these containers.
Like detectives they are armed with pluck, passion, and pleasure.
Using keys, compasses, maps, rakes, magnets, scissors, and arrows
They pierce the targets.
Mysteries have clues for these Nancy Drews (and hardy boys).
Be on the alert!
Remember details and subtleties of landscapes filled with crumbs, curious rooms visited,
closets full of clothes with torn seams, diaries bound in velvet, and attics filled with trunks.

Out comes a kaleidoscopic world.
A swirl of allegories, myths, relics, records, fables, childhood memories, fairy tales, televisions, movies,
romance novels, family albums, soap opera icons, [stereotypes, mainstream standards, and patterns of the past] A hurricane of Dick and Jane.

From the open vessels come good/evil and hope/fear.
Like scientists, these artists, wonder at the mystery anew.
What is real, what is false? Who are the genuine heroes and heroines? Who are the fakes?
Who are the charlatans, the jesters, the acrobats, the contortionists, and the tricksters?
And who are the angels and trapeze artists?
And how does imagination clarify the two?

These artists use visual tools to ransack the past, to explore the current passion for uncovering personal secrets. Working like archeologists, anthropologists, biographers, and alchemists they investigate memory, the sublime, and loss. Based on myths of yesterday, these visionaries look toward tomorrow appropriating icons and reinventing lessons they learned long ago. They spin gold out of straw.

Kathleen Kenyon, Program Director, 2000

[one_half first]"Future/Perfect", curated by Kathleen Kenyon, May 27 - July 2, 2000Davis & Davis[/one_half] [one_half]"Future/Perfect", curated by Kathleen Kenyon, May 27 - July 2, 2000Cynthia Greig[/one_half] [one_half first]"Future/Perfect", curated by Kathleen Kenyon, May 27 - July 2, 2000Judy Hiramoto[/one_half] [one_half]"Future/Perfect", curated by Kathleen Kenyon, May 27 - July 2, 2000Heather Ryan Kelley[/one_half] [one_half first]"Future/Perfect", curated by Kathleen Kenyon, May 27 - July 2, 2000Lori Newdick[/one_half] [one_half]"Future/Perfect", curated by Kathleen Kenyon, May 27 - July 2, 2000Susan Wides[/one_half]

Josephine Sacabo

Josephine Sacabo



May – July 2, 2000

El Mundo Inalcanzable de Susana San Juan is a series of photographs based on the Mexican novel Pedro Páramo a tragic myth of Mexico, by Juan Rulfo.

The setting is a town in ruins; the characters, souls wandering in it, doing penance, telling their stories.  Among them is Susana San Juan, whose entire discourse is one of memory and delusion, delivered from her tomb. It is the story of a woman forced to take refuge in madness as a means of protecting her inner world from the ravages of the forces around her: a cruel and tyrannical patriarchy, a church that offers no redemption, the senseless violence of revolution, death itself. These photographs are my attempt to depict this world as seen through the eyes of its tragic heroine. It is my homage in images to Mexico, to Juan Rulfo, and to Susana San Juans everywhere who will not be possessed.

This series was created in collaboration with Jacqueline Miró and is dedicated to my daughter Iris.

El Mundo Inalcanzable de Susana San Juan es una serie de fotografías basadas en la novela Mexicana Pedro Páramo de Juan Rulfo, un mito trájico de México. El entorno es un pueblo en ruinas, los personajes almas en pena que en murmullos cuentan sus historias. Entre ellos está Susana San Juan, cuyo relato es uno de recuerdo y alucinación. Es la historia de una mujer que se a refugiado en la locura, único medio de proteger su mundo interior de las fuerzas que la amenazan: un patriarcado cruel y tiránico, una iglesia que no ofrece redención, la violencia de una revolución y la muerte misma. Con estas fotografías intento ilustrar este mundo del punto de vista de esta heroina trájica. Son mi homenaje a México, a Juan Rulfo, y cada Susana San Juan en su lucha por no ser poseída.

Esta serie fué creada en colaboración con Jacqueline Miró y está dedicada a mi hija Iris.

Josephine Sacabo lives and works mostly in New Orleans where she has been strongly influenced by the unique ambiance of the city. She is a native of Laredo, Texas, and was educated at Bard College, NY. Previous to arriving in New Orleans, she lived and worked extensively in France and England. A self-taught photographer, her earliest work was in the photojournalistic tradition, influenced by Robert Frank, Josef Koudelka, and Henri Cartier-Bresson. Sacabo moved away from the photojournalism and began making images that were subjective and introspective. She uses poetry as the genesis of her work and it is poets she lists as her most important influences – among them – Rainer Maria Rilke, Charles Baudelaire, Pedro Salinas, Vincente Huidobro, and Juan Rulfo. Her first visual essays in photography were inspired by literature – a suite of pictures made ten years ago suggested by the Duino Elegies of Rainer Maria Rilke.

In 1991, she created a series inspired by the work of Chilean poet Vicente Huidobro that appeared as a book, Une Femme Habitee, published by Editions Marval in Paris. Her current body of work, El Mundo Inalcanzable de Susana San Juan, is homage to the novel Pedro Páramo by Juan Rulfo. “When I first read Pedro Páramo,” said the photographer Josephine Sacabo, “I was struck by the familiarity of the world Juan Rulfo was describing – that ranchero culture that existed from Jalisco, Mexico, where Rulfo came from, as far north as San Antonio, Texas. This is the culture into which I was born, and I soon realized that this very ‘regional’ novel was in fact universal.”  Josephine is in negotiations with Bill Witcliff and the University of Texas Press for the publication of a new luxury edition of Pedro Páramo illustrated with her images in this series. Projected publication date is slated for Fall 2002. Sacabo’s work has been seen in Madrid, Buenos Aires, Paris, Los Angeles, Guatemala City, London, Mexico City, New York, and of course, in New Orleans. Her photographs are included in the collections at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts, the New Orleans Museum of Art, and the Bibliotheque Nationale.


Waking Breaking Making


curated by Barbara Head Millstein

April 1 – May 6, 2000

The Center asked the international photographic community: What are the fundamental issues you face day in and day out? How do you spend your time? What do you value? What do you forego? What do you create and what can you only imagine? Constance, creativity, revitalization, tribulation, occupation, divination, and inspiration stir these artists to create.

The Center for Photography at Woodstock attracted a wonderfully talented group of photographers for the exhibition 24/7 Waking, Breaking, Making. It was a challenge to select just ten artists for the show. Needless to say, those chosen offer provocative ideas and resolutions. Laura Calfee’s literary evocation of a ghost ridden, memory filled apartment depends on light and color to fill the viewer with a sense of palpable unease. Nicholas Fedak II appropriated images in negative form are original concept. Helen Stummer provides searing imagery of inner city life and Melanie Eve Barocas takes us to countries in turmoil. Two installation pieces, Eva Heyd’s freestanding sculpture and Jennifer Calison’s “Medicine Chest” are arresting, imaginative, and amusing. Rebecca Stockham and Eric Lindbloom both present conceptual imagery, while, Herminia Dosal’s dreamlike compositions, taken in Mexico are both romantic and edgy. Sarah Hoskins’ use of light and composition combined with narrative suggest the power of family relationships. It is evident these photographers reveal an incredible variety of vision when challenged to portray day-to-day issues.

Barbara Head Millstein, The Brooklyn Museum of Art

About the Curator
Barbara Head Millstein, a graduate of New York University, worked as a street reporter with the New York Daily News and as a film editor with 20th Century Fox before becoming the curator of photographs for the Brooklyn Museum of Art. Since 1974 Millstein has expanded their photography collection from 300 prints to 15,000 and has curated more than twenty-five photography exhibitions, including the major retrospective for Lewis Hine, Consuela Kanaga, Centenary of the Brooklyn Bridge, and Photography in Latin America: A Spiritual Journey.

[one_half first]Melanie Eve Barocas[/one_half] [one_half]Jennifer Calison[/one_half] [one_half first]Laura Calfee[/one_half] [one_half]Herminia Dosal[/one_half] [one_half first]Nicholas Fedak II[/one_half] [one_half]Eva Heyd[/one_half] [one_half first]Sarah Hoskins[/one_half] [one_half]Eric Lindbloom[/one_half] [one_half first]Rebecca Stockham[/one_half] [one_half]Helen Stummer[/one_half]