Peter lives in a warehouse filled with blinking lights, movement-censored animatronic sculptures and live crows. Really. It is filled to the brim with this stuff. Apparently, the crows fly to and fro, squawking. I have seen a wide angle photo of the place and the picture doesn't even seem wide angle, the space is so full of things Peter. Usually content to construct slightly offensive-but-thoughtful robotic pieces of art for shows at P.S.1, he moonlights as a dog walker and and key jangler. As he ambles up, walking lopsided as if that enormous tangle of keys attached to his belt loop are pulling him almost over, he says to you "how is your wife with that great butt?" and for a moment its awkward. Then his eyes twinkle and his mustache twitches, and you realize that you are having a conversation with a living classic.
No comments:
Post a Comment