Fred Valentine, Large Clown, 2005, charcoal on torn and disrupted paper, 50 × 38 inches.
Fred Valentine, Atoon for a Wobbly Optimism, 2010, oil on canvas, 9 × 12 inches
Fred Valentine, Lure, 2008–09, oil on wood panel, 10 ½ × 14 inches.
This issue of First Proof is funded, in part, by the Bertha and Isaac Liberman Foundation and the Thanksgiving Fund.
Additional funding is provided by the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs, the New York State Council on the Arts, and readers like you.
Great to see you as always. A few questions came to me, typically after all was said and done. I thought I’d send them over while our very interesting conversation was still fresh in my mind.
Section titled “The Folding Screen,” curated by Ursula Helman featuring folding screen works by Ed Ruscha, Lucas Samaras, Helen Frankenthaler, and Jennifer Bartlett among others.
Originally published in
Featuring interviews with Clifford Owens, Eve Sussman, Lisa Yuskavage, Sanford Biggers, Geoff Dyer, Kenneth Goldsmith, Neil Michael Hagerty, and Peter Eisenman.
How do I build a fugitive choreography, one that’s always in the process of escaping itself, then coming back to reaffirm itself, only to slide away again? The act of interpreting a choreography is made live by the performers, which is the invitation in my work.
Ligia Lewis
