I identified with the monsters

The Black Harbor has posted a short film/interview about my work directed by Mcnair Evans. It was shot in Asheville, NC about a year ago.
There is also an unedited transcription of a conversation between me and McNair on my front porch.

Thanks to the Black Harbor and McNair Evans for the beautiful film (and to Simon Lutrin for editing three days of footage into 5 minutes).

Also, the animation with the pig and the cigarette that I mention at the end of the film is Das Blaue Wunder (1935) by the great Hans Fischerkoesen.

Paper rackets

I have made tiny rackets out of paper and thread. It took me a long time. They are for my new animated film (it looks like it's going to be titled The Butterflies).

A paper piano

I have been working on a full length animation which has been commissioned me by Francesco Dillon of Quartetto Prometeo about a year ago. It's a seventy minutes film to be projected with the performance of Morton Feldman's Piano and String Quartet (1985). First concert/screening on October 12, at music@villaromana Festival in Florence. Then Padova on October 13, Milano on the 14th, and Buenos Aires, Argentina, on November 23.
It has been an incredibly exciting, and, in terms of time and structure, challenging project. I have read Give My Regards to Eighth Street, Feldman's collection of essays, to get some ideas, but mostly listened to his music over and over. What I love of his work is the delicacy, the quietness that accumulates and becomes louder. I didn't try to use Feldman's world (not many visible things to hang on to): instead I tuned mine to his cadences.


I have made a piano of paper, with all the keys cut separately so they can "play."





I have started to incorporate more textural elements in my figures, using fabric, dirt, strings, hair, stones. I have been cutting little clothes out of book bindings.
Discarding old hardcover volumes makes you realize how much art used to be put into the production of books, what complex, stratified objects they were, with a weight and a consistency that paperbacks took away.