KiKi Smith
Grand Central Station #NewYork
The Bridge:
I stood naked in a room filled with art. I felt as if I had been captured in a chapter of John Fowles’,“The Collector”. I remember peering out of a silken clothed covered window. A new construct: Sir Norman Foster’s London Millennium Bridge floated a walking path across the River Thames. The English with a teacup in hand might have said, “splendid”. I merely examined the moment as a one of a kind. Years later, I realized that onlookers probably only saw my lonely figure, as I stood naked like a whale with suspenders.
The Galapagos:
From my very first portrait I felt like I had signed up to travel on Darwin’s HMS Beagle. I was searching for the origins of something; I didn’t have a plan. I was merely thinking about creating a chromogenic (genetic) map among the world’s creatives. I was tapping into the ocean’s currents to destinations unknown. I wanted to go anywhere and meet anyone. Those thoughts and beginnings led me to thousands of people and places that posed for my camera.
Millenium Bridge
#SirNormanFoster
For my first dozen years in New York, I never said no. I was a white “go-ishi”: a white stone in the game of “Go”. With so many Go moves to consider, it was as if I attempting to roundup all of the atoms in the universe. I think this endeavor might have started with de Kooning or Noguchi;
The bridge before me, became a personal reveal. It dawned on me that I was witnessing life’s visual clarity. I had been tethered between art and architecture and more for decades. I was standing surrounded by art in an interior space. Looking north a creative marriage between artist Anthony Caro and architect Norman Foster splayed out beautifully across the river; The connecting architectural bridge became symbolic of my career.
Recently announced was the artist Kiki Smith’s adornments for the New Grand Central Madison Station. I recalled my portrait session with Kiki. I recalled all of the Grand Central Station photographs I had taken. I recalled the father daughter bridge between the artist Tony Smith and Kiki. The word bridge has so many connotations that my mind rests on connections.
I have photographed so many people and places that my photographs and experiences have roots in my past and present. I flood my pages with personal history. The word bridge keeps playing with my mind. The bridges between the arts.
Thousands of names, thousands of photographs have been bridging my life to people and eras; Roland Penrose, Salvador Dali, Man Ray, Oscar Niemeyer, Zaha Hadid, Frank Gehry, Rem Koolhaas. Like a dreamer I get lost in reverie. But the reverie only springboards me to another day another moment.
My photographs illustrate my careers bridges. Kiki and train stations, Caro and Foster, Oldenburg and Gehry, Heatherwick and Bjarke and more dance through my mind like notorious sprites decorating my brain’s dream lobe. They are constant reminders of my life’s standing. I am tethered to the bridges that have allowed my camera to criss cross like Cat’s cradle through generations of creators.
Heatherwicks “Vessel”