Tuesday, February 24, 2026

Spalding Gray | Seven Scenes From A Family Album










Spalding Gray
Seven Scenes From A Family Album
New York City, USA: Benzene Editions, 1981
30 pp., 5.25 x 8.25”, staple-bound
Edition size unknown


Written during a trip to Amsterdam, Seven Scenes From A Family Album is the first book by American monologist, actor and author Spalding Gray. 

Gray began his theater career in New York in the late 1960s, and joined Richard Schechner's experimental troupe The Performance Group in 1970. He cofounded - alongside Willem Dafoe, Elizabeth LeCompte, Kate Valk, and others - The Wooster Group in 1975. 

He appeared in several pornographic films around this time, including Farmer's Daughters1 (1976), Little Orphan Dusty (1976), and Maraschino Cherry (1978).

Gray left the Wooster group after five years to concentrate on his own monologues, which were beginning to garner acclaim. He debuted his first solo show in April of 1979. Sex and Death to the Age 14 was well-received and played for six weeks at the Performing Garage. 

Roland Joffé invited Gray to audition for a role in what would become the director’s first feature film, The Killing Fields. “I’m not very political," Gray responded, "in fact, I’ve never even voted in my life.” Joffé reportedly replied, “Perfect! We’re looking for the American ambassador’s aide.” 

The Killing Fields2 is about the American bombing of Cambodia and the genocide perpetrated by the Khmer Rouge. Gray’s role was small, but the experience made an indelible impression on him. 

Swimming to Cambodia, about his time on set in Thailand, became Gray’s most celebrated monologue. In 1985 he published it as a book and in 1987 it was adapted into a feature film by directed by Jonathan Demme, in between Something Wild and Married to the Mob, and just a few years prior to his breakthrough works The Silence of the Lambs and Philadelphia.

Demme was the logical choice, as the director The Talking Heads’ Stop Making Sense, which remains of one of the most celebrated music performance films of all time. 

The film consists almost entirely of Gray at a desk, performing the monologue, accompanied by limited sound effects and an original score by Laurie Anderson. 

I saw the film in the cinema at the time and audiences were transfixed. The New York Times declared "Mr. Gray's feature-length monologue brings people, places and things so vibrantly to life that they're very nearly visible on the screen.”

This was followed by Monster in a Box, which was also released as both a book and film, again scored by Laurie Anderson. The work details the author’s failed attempts at a first novel (which would eventually become Impossible Vacation). He received a Guggenheim Fellowship and the National Book Award in 1985 for Monster in a Box, but the novel was quickly remaindered. 

While vacationing in Ireland in 2001 - to celebrate his 60th birthday - Gray was injured in car crash. He broke his hip and fractured his skull. Surgeons removed dozens of bone fragments from his frontal cortex and fit him with a titanium plate3. Already struggling with depression, the physical impairments exacerbated his mental health problems. 

He sought help from famed neurologist Oliver Sacks, who began treating him in August of 2003. Sacks recounted that Gray frequently spoke of suicide, often in terms of a creative act. He made an unsuccessful attempt the previous year. He proposed killing himself during a live televised interview, as the logical conclusion to his work. 

On January 10th, 2004, Gray took his two children to see Tim Burton's fantasy drama Big Fish. The film tells the story of a frustrated man trying to distinguish fact from fiction after the death of his father, a subject that would’ve resonated with the storyteller. 

Big Fish ends with the line, "A man tells a story over and over so many times he becomes the story. In that way, he is immortal.” This reportedly moved the monologist to tears.

The next day Gray's wife, Kathleen Russo, reported her husband missing. 

An investigation was jointly conducted by the New York Police Department and the Southampton Town Police Department. The story appeared on an episode of the Fox network’s America’s Most Wanted

Two months later, Gray's body was found in the East River. It is believed that he jumped off the Staten Island Ferry. Russo connected his death to the Tim Burton film: "I just think it gave him permission. I think it gave him permission to die."

Based on his comments to Oliver Sacks, Spalding Gray’s death can be viewed alongside the suicide of Ray Johnson and the disappearance of Bas Jan Ader: as deaths that may have been intended as artworks. 

"He took the anarchy and illogic of life and molded it into something we could grab a hold of," said Eric Bogosian, the performer perhaps closest in spirit to Gray. "It took courage to do what Spalding did, courage to make theatre so naked and unadorned, to expose himself in this way and to fight his demons in public."

Gray had began writing his own obituary before his death, at the invitation of TV host Larry King, who was editing a collection called Remember Me When I’m Gone: The Rich and Famous Write Their Own Epitaphs and Obituaries.   

“He didn’t get the irony,” his widow remarked. “He was too deep into his depression to see how strange it was that he had been asked to write his own obituary.” It reads: 


“SPALDING GRAY 1941.

He was a good and devoted father and a legal husband but most of all he was known for his autobiographical monologues in which he would sit on stage at a table with a glass of water and tell true stories from his life. He could capture the details ______ of his ______ and slightly eccentric life in a way that caused audiences to laugh and relate.

Also known as the talking man, he was an American original and will be deeply missed.”





1. Gray would later write an essay titled Farmer’s Daughter about his role in the film: his initial inability to achieve an erection on set, followed by the horrifying images he had to conjure in his head to prevent premature ejaculation. The day’s entry in his journal simply read: "“I break down on the porno set because director gives me a hard time. I have tears.”

2. At the New York premiere of The Killing Fields, producer David Puttnam sat behind Yoko Ono, who had agreed to have “Imagine", the song she co-authored with her late husband John Lennon, play over the final scene. “The film ended, and she was in pieces,” he later recounted. "She climbed over the back of her chair, hugged me and cried. ‘I promise you this,’ she said: ‘This is exactly the way John would have liked the song to have been used.’ It was an amazing moment.”

3. “The operation lasts six hours. They cut me from ear to ear, peel down my forehead, and put in a titanium plate,” Gray explained in his unfinished monologue Life Interrupted. “More titanium plates in here; bone splinters are released into my frontal lobe—I think they have to try to pick those out—from the smashing of my head against Kathie’s head. They sew me up; it looks like I’ve had a face-lift.”


Sunday, February 22, 2026

Dóra Maurer | Objectified Outline








Dóra Maurer
Objectified Outline
Baden, Germany: Kodoji Press, 2024
18pp., 7.8 x 12 cm,, softcover
Edition size unknown


A work from 1981 presented as eight silver prints in a leporello housed in a printed envelope. The images depict chalk outlines on a rotating woman’s body. 


Dóra Maurer died last week, on February 14th, at the age of eighty-eight. 






Saturday, February 21, 2026

David Horvitz | Other People [Special Edition]







David Horvitz
Other People [Special Edition]
Paris, France: RVB Books, 2025
448 pp., 8.8 x 12.5 cm., softcover
Edition of 50 signed and numbered copies


The special edition of David Horvitz’ Other People [see previous post] comes with a signed and numbered Lambda print of four photographs of people that Artificial Intelligence Facial Recognition software mistook for the artist. 

The work is available from the publisher, here, for 80€.




David Horvitz | Other People













David Horvitz
Other People 
Paris, France: RVB Books, 2025
448 pp., 8.8 x 12.5 cm., softcover
Edition size unknown


"Other People is a collection of digital photographs found using facial recognition software. David Horvitz sent photographs of his own face to conduct these searches. The photographs presented here are misidentifications, errors that AI technology deemed to be the artists face but are not. These photographs are "other people," individuals unknown to Horvitz, with a slight familiarity and similarity, living parallel lives. The ethics of these image databases are ambiguous. They are formed from digital photographs dredged from the internet. In most cases, the authors (and the people depicted) of these images have no idea their photographs have been copied and monetized. Law enforcement agencies are among the customers of these databases, using them to enhance techniques of surveillance and control. This work was inspired by research on training materials for East German border guards at Checkpoint Charlie, found in the Wende Museum collection.”
- publisher’s blurb





Friday, February 20, 2026

Robin Metcalfe on Kelly Mark






Kelly Mark | Glow House








To mark the first anniversary of her death, several of Kelly Mark's friends and contemporaries are mounting new iterations of her classic work Glow House. Beginning tomorrow, Glow House will be presented across the country, from coast to coast. 

The project was initiated by Kegan McFadden and Anthony Cooper, with help from Stefan Hancherow, Sanaa Humaayun, Ivan Jurakic, Eleanor King, Dean Baldwin Lew,  jake moore, Su Ying Strang, Adam Whitford, Collin Zipp, as well as Roula and myself. 

It will be presented at the following venues: 

Deluge Contemporary Art (Victoria, BC)

Southern Alberta Art Gallery Maansiksikaitsitapiitsinikssin (Lethbridge, AB) | Offsite

University of Saskatchewan (Saskatoon, SK) | Offsite

One Night Stand (Winnipeg, MB)

Hamilton Artists Inc. (Hamilton, ON)

Good Water Gallery (Toronto, ON)

King Residency (Halifax, NS)

Struts Gallery (Sackville, NB) | Offsite


Robin Metcalfe has contributed a new text about the work (see next post) but here’s one Kelly commissioned me to write 21 years ago, for a glow in the dark poster produced by YYZ, when they mounted an early version of Glow House: 


"I love to watch things on TV. When I first bought a video camera I pointed it out the window and sat on the sofa watching the passersby on my set for hours on end, in a way I would never just sit and look out the window. It’s this addictive quality that draws the ire of its detractors, even as they indulge in their own opiates of choice.

It’s television the appliance that appeals to me, not the programming, 90% of which is crap (a ratio on par with the visual arts, theatre, literature, music, film and most other things). I like that it’s a nightlight for the insomniac, company for pets, a warm glow left on low in the backroom when one is cleaning or working. A common comfort, like a porch light left on.

When art turns its attention to television it tends to be as a critique of the content, or at best an examination of the possibilities, but seldom a celebration of the qualities intrinsic to the ubiquitous box. Sound artists recognize the strong cultural resonance that a record player needle or speaker holds for its audience. Rarely are the properties inherent to television(s) mined for the same visceral memory effect.

Artists’ writings sometimes come closest. Laurie Anderson likens television to Heaven as a perfect little world that doesn't really need you. As a stand-alone, the metaphor holds up, but she nails it with the line that follows, and everything there is made of light. Tom Sherman, in his 1980 text "How To Watch Television" proposes leaning in close, with your face pressed up against the glass. It's beautiful up close. It’s rare that we think of televised images as made of light. We’re somewhat aware of the illusion and the frames per second but the glow often goes unnoticed, perhaps because it is inconspicuously projected onto us.

Kelly Mark sees the light, harnesses and amplifies it in a brilliant outdoor installation titled “Glowhouse” - a vacant home flickering with the blue light of thirty-five televisions, conspiratorially set to the same channel. The cartoon plutonium-like glow pulsing through the house, like the heartbeat of the home. Like a jack-o-lantern.

The building appears gutted, cast with light in a manner reminiscent of Rachel Whiteread’s concrete cast of an East London house. Mark’s work betters Whiteread as a public sculpture by being less intrusive, less monumental. It’s a late-night intervention situated on a residential street near the downtown core, waiting to be stumbled upon by drunks and dog walkers, for a discreet but sublime evening encounter.

A companion work, “Horror, Suspense, Romance, Porn, Kung-Fu”, records the glow of genre cinema reflected onto a wall. In exhibition a different genre is represented weekly for the duration of the show. Just as different types of music have rhythms and timbres specific to their styles, cinema genres have their own particular rhythms and hues. Westerns are browner, film-noir blacker. Thrillers flicker faster. Glowhouse also highlights these rhythms – during an action film, or commercial break or music video, the fast edits make it appear as though fireworks are going off inside the house.

Mark is often called a “working-class conceptualist” and, for all its physical beauty, “Glowhouse” is not incongruous with this assessment. A common working-class pastime is to come home from a hard day’s work and unwind in front of the television by watching others perform their job. We watch shows about cops, teachers, doctors, coroners. Newscasters and talk show hosts sit perched behind desks.

The upper classes once distinguished themselves by the culture they consumed and now resent sharing one with the great unwashed, perhaps explaining the condescending epithets boob tube and idiot box. Television is often blamed for our short attention spans, laziness and the learning difficulties of our children. For violence and deviant behaviour - nothing short of the breakdown of society. Mark sidesteps the pissing match and democratizes the medium by reducing it to its core element. By accentuating the light, Mark reminds us that television has merely replaced fire as center of the home - the glow around which we tell our stories.

Dave Dyment, 2005"



Thursday, February 19, 2026

David Bellingham | Box Full of Air








David Bellingham
Box Full of Air
Toronto, Canada: Paul+Wendy Projects, 2026
3-3/4 x 1-3/4 x 2-1/2"
Edition of 200 signed copies


I discovered David Bellingham’s work in Scotland, almost twenty years ago. I first found his great book Ideas Leave Objects Standing and then a few days later saw the same phrase on a mug while visiting David Shrigley’s home (they’re old friends). 

Recently I added his watch-hands earrings to my collection of artists wristwatches.*

Earlier this week, Paul+Wendy Projects announced a new edition, their second with Bellingham. It consists of a letterpress printed die-cut cardboard box that ships flat. 

The work functions as a "cardboard vessel for the collection and storage of local air”. It comes accompanied by a signed certificate of assurance, and warranty ("this product will be repaired or replaced if it ceases to function as advertised”). 

Box Full of Air work is the 86th title produced by Paul+Wendy Projects, whose other editions include books, multiples and prints by Michael Dumontier, Marcel Dzama, Neil Farber, Maggie Groat, Kay Rosen, Micah Lexier, Van Maltese, Richard McGuire, Jonathan Monk, Roula Partheniou, David Shrigley, Derek Sullivan, and many others. 

It is available from the publishers, here, for $20.00. 



*An informal collection of watches and clocks by artists that includes: Tauba Auerbach, GuyGuyGuy, Nam June Paik, Jon Sasaki, Jeff Kulak, Marie Ange-Guilleminot, Lenka Clayton & Phillip Andrew Lewis, Yoko Ono, Sara Mackillop, Eunice Luk, Lawrence Weiner, etc