Artist: Carolyn Lazard

Venue: Essex Street, New York

Exhibition Title: SYNC

Date: September 10 – October 17, 2020

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Artist: Carolyn Lazard

Artist: Carolyn Lazard

 

Full gallery of images, press launch and hyperlink on the market after the bounce.

Images:

Videos:

Carolyn Lazard Privatization, 2020, 00:20 (arrange view)

[Three light-gray standing air purifiers are clustered in a corner slow rotating left and right. Each purifier moves independently of the others. Each purifier has vents on the front and a gold band along its top and bottom.]

Carolyn Lazard Cinema 1, Cinema 2, 2020, 00:17 (arrange view)

[Two identical small black boxes sit directly on the floor, plugged into electrical sockets on the wall. On their top, identical configurations of logs appear burning in flames. Through small slits in the boxes, wires and electrical components are visible.]

Images courtesy of Essex Street, New York

Press Release:

And the Sun Still Shines

Tameka Blackwell

I just like the daylight that shines in on Thomas Jefferson Hospital’s glass enclosed bridge.

The bridge has the seems to be of hovering over Sansom Street. It was constructed as an extension for connecting the Chestnut Street side of Jefferson Hospital to the Walnut Street side. They as quickly as operated as two separate buildings. The Walnut Street side was constructed a couple of years sooner than the Chestnut Street side. Thomas Jefferson Hospital has grow to be the premier hospital inside the Northeast that handles spinal twine accidents. Anyhow, I’m glad it exists.

The elevators are full, as common. Well, I’ll must attend for the next one, as common. How dare these people delay my mission to the ninth flooring, the purple flooring, the place my spot inside the photo voltaic awaits me?

Purple is the color scheme of the bottom — room numbers, nurses’ stations, and the large amount that greets you when the elevator doorways open. The totally different flooring have coloration schemes, too. The fifth flooring is yellow, third flooring is inexperienced, and the eighth flooring is purple.

Where are all these people coming from?

All correct, I’m pressured to jock for place. 5 . . . 4 . . . it’s on its method down . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . you fools larger switch out my method . . . 1 . . . proper right here I’m going — zoom. I prefer it.

Don’t go away on my account.

Once I’m on the elevator people don’t want to journey with me. They usually bounce out to get in a single different elevator. Maybe I frighten them by transferring so quickly? Well, if I didn’t, people would certainly not let me on. So optimistic, don’t get on with me — fewer stops.

Mom pushes the amount 9 and away we go. Man, she appears to be so drained.

“Mom, I got a plan.”

“Yeah. What?”

“I’m a start my story for Eli’s class when I get on the bridge.”

“Yeah. You said that for the past two weeks.”

“I know. But today is the day.”

“Uh huh.”

“Listen. My appointment is not until . . . what, another hour or so? I can start writing now. Right?”

“Right . . . turn around straight. So you can get off without hitting the arm of that chair.”

“I got it.”

“Yeah.”

Man, she sounds drained. Bing!

The Ninth flooring, sunshine proper right here I come. Great, no one else is on the bridge. My three favorite parts for writing — and sleeping — sunshine and peace and quiet. Just as I choose it.

“You need all three of your pillows?”

“Yes’ um.”

“Yes’ um?”

“Thanks mom.”

“Yes’ um. I am going to sit in the lounge and it’s about 11:00 o’clock. So come around about quarter of . . . 12.”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

It’s humorous, after so a couple of years she nonetheless forgets about my inabilities.

“Oh, that’s right. I’ll come back at twenty of.”

“OK.”

“Don’t fall asleep or daydream with all this sun.”

“You know me too well.”

She even walks drained.

All correct, Let the Story Writing Begin. Or, Let My Story Begin. Yeah, that sounds larger as a title. This photo voltaic feels so good. I prefer to solely flip my stand up to it.

The flashing purple lights on that ambulance are so purple. It’s pulling into the Emergency and Trauma Unit on Tenth Street. That wasn’t proper right here, at Jefferson, after I used to be delivered to this hospital. I ponder if the person inside’s physique is packed in ice for stabilization? As mine was. I ponder within the occasion that they even do that anymore, after a person’s been pronounced DOA? As I was. I ponder within the occasion that they need a tube inserted of their tracheae to permit them to breathe? As I needed. I ponder if the person is being transferred proper right here from one different hospital as a result of severity of their illness? As I was transferred proper right here from one different hospital that wasn’t capable of coping with a person with my stage of spinal injury. Whew! What a journey, from then to now. Thank you, Jesus, for my Life.

“Hey, Tameka. Right?”

“Hi, Dr. Dittuno.” A Spinal Cord Specialist and my doctor all through my seven-month hold proper right here.

I am unable to think about this man continues to be proper right here. Still sporting his glasses on the tip of his nostril. Let me peek at the ft. Yup, the brown Stacey Adams turned up at the toes.

“How are you, sweetie? You look wonderful. Here for a tune up?”

I frown at the phrase “sweetie.” I do know I was youthful after I bought right here proper right here, nevertheless I’m properly earlier the sweetie stage. And I’m nonetheless processing the “tune up” remark. I left my dwelling this morning promising myself to not grow to be “Super Woman: The Crusader for all Causes.” But, I can’t help it.

“Sweetie, doc?”

“Oh yeah, how old are you now?”

“Too old for sweetie.”

An awkward silence falls between us whereas he rocks forwards and backwards on the worn heels of his footwear. Should I launch him now, or let him squirm just a little bit additional? Oh, I’ll dismiss him, solely because of he appears to be so uncomfortable and I’ve work to do. Besides, I can’t preserve in my laughter any longer and he’s blocking my photo voltaic.

“Yup, here for a routine check up.”

“OK then, see you later. Keep up the good work.”

Laughter.

It amazes me how little widespread sense a couple of of those docs have. (Smile.)

I assume many people don’t anticipate the problems that come out of my face. Man, this photo voltaic feels good. I’m glad that cloud is gone. I don’t want any clouds on this gorgeous sunny day. All correct, once more to my story.

Why is Mom coming now? It can’t be 11:45 already. I solely have drawings of sunny smiley faces on my net web page. I wanted to have at least three or 4 pages written sooner than she bought right here for me or I get once more residence. Watch she asks me how quite a bit I’ve written.

“How much did you write?”

“Aren’t you early?”

“No, it’s quarter of. That’s all you did was draw pictures of smiley faces?”

“I’m still thinking.”

“Yeah, OK. Do you want all this stuff put away?”

“No. But, listen. My brain juices are just getting started.”

She smiles. “Yeah, all right. Get started around to the doctor’s office.”

Laughter.

I like her one-liners, and her smile. She doesn’t look as worn out when she obtained a smile on her face.

I hate this office. I on a regular basis should skillfully maneuver my method throughout the Ikea-looking doctor’s office furnishings in an effort to find a nook to squeeze into whereas I wait my flip. There is a spot, between two cheaply framed chairs. It’s about twenty-two inches huge. Thank goodness I’m twenty-one inches huge.

Then I solely should bear the an identical ritual to get out of the spot the place I wedged myself in.

Not unhealthy. I whipped myself correct in proper right here. You go BIG GIRL.

“The lady said Dr. Chinkins is running around thirty minutes late.”

“OK. That’ll give me time to write at least a page or two.”

“Yeah, alright. Put everything back on you?”

“Mm, hm. Thanks.”

“Mm hm.”

Back to my empty net web page with the sunshine faces on it. Better however, I’ll start on a transparent slate or clear net web page.

“You have an audience.” Despite my mother leaning over to tell me this — she will be able to’t whisper. I’m optimistic all people on this matchbox of an office heard her.

I nod in settlement, sooner than she loudly whispers one factor else.

Yes mommy, I’m acutely aware of the lady all through from me whose pores and pores and skin and attire look as if she merely flew in from Florida. I do realize it’s good proper now, nevertheless sandals and puddle-pushers? Oh, excuse me, capris. Aren’t you acutely aware it’s nonetheless March? I seen her when she bought right here in. Try to ignore her and write. I’ve two pages of concepts down. Don’t stop the motion and do not lookup as soon as extra to satisfy her eyes – too late. No. Please don’t stare. I do not actually really feel like having fun with the staring sport with you. I’ve work to do. And perception me, I’m quite a bit higher at it than you could be. Just smile then.

Smile.

All correct, the sleek smile I gave you was a contact that you simply simply’re being rude. It ought to’ve not labored because of your eyes are nonetheless on me. I’m pressured to offer the attention treatment. OK. What shall I give consideration to? Maybe your black roots that need a blonde contact up. Or probably your skinny purple painted lips. No, not the lips. I’ll wind up laughing sooner than I’m accomplished treating you with my eyes. Found it. That blotchy sunburned forehead with its 4 deep creases has my full consideration.

She appears to be and I look. She appears to be and I look. She appears to be and I look. She appears to be and I look. Has anyone ever instructed this intelligent lady how rude it is to stare?

The lady with the gold hoop earrings and the blue raincoat, a London Fog like my grandmother used to placed on, sitting subsequent to my sunburned buddy, appears to know the intention of my eye treatment. She shakes her head in disgust. Raincoat lady obtained the message. She perhaps was taught the an identical lesson I was privileged to be taught.”DO NOT STARE, it’s rude and impolite.”

She appears to be and I look. She appears to be and I look. She appears to be and I look. She appears to be and I look. Oh, good. You identify my title now. I’m merely getting relaxed. Do I flip away now? NEVER!

“Come on Mekey.” This is my affectionate family title given to me by my niece when she was two. She couldn’t pronounce my title Tameka accurately.

She appears to be and I look. She appears to be and I look. She appears to be and I look. I don’t actually really feel like being Super Woman and educating this lady some manners.

“Come on, your chair is on.” My mom’s voice tells me she’s fed up with this lady’s rudeness and my response to it.

I rest my head on my headrest, with my eyes locked on her forehead. My chair lunges forward. I take my head off the headrest, stopping the chair correct in entrance of the rude lady’s ft. She jumps, lifting her ft off the bottom.

“I don’t know if anyone has ever told you, but staring at people is very rude.”

The lady blinks her eyes shortly and seems at me as if she is amazed that I can converse.

All correct, lady, I heard you identify me the first time. Getting out this tight spot was heaps less complicated than I believed it might be. Maybe I actually really feel as if I obtained one factor to indicate. Or, I don’t care whether or not or not I take a few of these low-cost chairs with me, along with the one Mrs. Florida is sitting in. Anyway, I obtained skills.

“Hi, Tameka?”

“No, she’s Tameka?”

“Tm Tameka Blackwell.”

Where is Erica, who sat at this desk for the earlier 5 years? She is conscious of who’s who. I hate breaking in new people.

“Yes, Ms. Blackwell. Dr. Chinkins will not be able to see you today and apologizes for any inconvenience.”

Silence. Where is Erica?

This lady looks as if a recording. BEEP, please preserve. BEEP, press one.

“Are you having any problems with your toes? Are you diabetic?”

“No, no problems. Nor am I diabetic.”

“Because you could see Dr. Freed.”

Dr. Freed? Not hardly. He’s the an identical quack that don’t think about it’s essential for a person with a spinal twine injury to have their nails scale back often and accurately.

“No, that’s quite all right.”

“Would you like to make an appointment for next week?”

“No, I’ll just call. Thanks.”

“Let’s go Bo.”

This is the affectionate title I gave my mom after I turned twenty-five, in an effort to carry from calling her “Mommy” in public.

It is warmth ample to sit down down exterior. I’ll start to write down after I get once more residence. Well, I get to profit from the photo voltaic just a little bit additional. Finally, I don’t should wrestle to get on the elevator. Man, everybody appears to be out proper now. You can on a regular basis inform when it’s lunchtime and when it is getting warmth. The photo voltaic feels so warmth.

“I am going to sit over here.”

“OK. I’m going to sit over there, where the sun is.”

“Keep watch for your ride.”

“All right.”

Well, if I’m not going to jot down, I nonetheless can assume, whereas I’m sitting proper right here. I’m nonetheless uncertain about tips about how you can put my story on paper and make it attention-grabbing. I’m not a extremely thrilling particular person. I don’t do plenty of one thing.

No, please don’t sit over proper right here. I’m in a nook minding my enterprise. Besides, my eyeballs are bored with staring. Also, this wooden and stone bench subsequent to me doesn’t look very cozy. Great, merely what I don’t want.

“Hi, honey.” At least this little osteoporosistic white haired lady has the decency to speak. But that always means there shall be a slew of questions that may usually observe the gesture of politeness.

“Hi.”

“Sun feels good, huh.”

“Yup.”

“I bet it feels really good to your body?”

You wager correct, lady.

“Yup.”

No, don’t switch any nearer. Can’t you inform by my fast options that I don’t want to communicate? Please, lady, that’s shut ample. If I switch once more I acquired’t be inside the photo voltaic.

“Where do you live, honey?”

I knew you had questions. It didn’t take you prolonged, sister. I do know you didn’t come sit over proper right here for the sake of sitting.

“North Philly.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that place. A lot of dangerous things happening out there.”

Now, sooner than I come to the rescue of North Philly and scare the dwelling daylights out this lady, let me course of her idea of North Philly being someplace afar or “out there.” “Were you born like that? Did something happen to you out there?”

Slow down, granny. I knew you could have been full of questions, nevertheless dag.

“I was shot.”

I prefer to see people’s facial response after I say that.

“Oh, my word.”

Whew, I didn’t know she had such beady little blue eyes behind all that hanging pores and pores and skin

Silence.

I actually really feel my mom’s eyes on me. I’m not going to look in her path.

I actually really feel her eyes on me, just like nowadays after I used to be in church and talking with buddies after I shouldn’t have been. I would flip spherical to see her eyes chastising me.

Oh, I can’t help it. Yup, she’s wanting at me. Smile.

“Was it gang related?”

Oh, God, this lady watches an extreme quantity of TV. Her favorite could be detective reveals because of she is one hell of an interrogator. But let me give her a dose of actuality.

Super Woman to the rescue!

“No, my injury wasn’t gang related. Actually, it didn’t happen ‘out there’ in North Philly.”

“Oh! Where did it occur?”

How did I do know you could have been going to ask that?

“I was on the Boardwalk with some friends.”

“The boardwalk? The Atlantic City Boardwalk?”

Look, lady, will you let me inform this story?

“No. It was the Ocean City Boardwalk . . .”

“Were you vacationing, school trip, just visiting? What?”

Man, Agatha Christie. Sit once more on the sting of the bench and let me finish.

“Just visiting. And I was on the boardwalk and this man came over to me when I was laughing — I forget about what. Anyhow, he said, ‘You know, you remind me of my wife.’ Then as I began to leave or walk away, he shot me.” “My heavens! You poor dear. Well, did you look like his wife?”

Here comes the kicker.

“No, not at all. His wife was a thin woman with honey-blonde hair.”

“What? What do you mean honey-blonde hair? You mean his wife was white?”

“Yup.”

“Was he white too?”

“Uh, huh.”

“Well, how do you assume . . . “

“I don’t know. I doubt if there were any similarities. Maybe it was my laugh. My mother used to tell me my laugh was going to get me in trouble.”

Especially after I used to be in Catholic School.

“What happened to him?”

“It is said that he went three blocks and blew his brains out.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yup. No trial, no sentencing and no punishment.”

“Where did he get the gun?”

“Oh, a small arsenal was later found in his home.”

Silence.

Thank goodness any individual is wanting. This lady is full of questions.

She shakes her head and pats my arm. Then she stands, whereas nonetheless shaking her head. She walks slowly in direction of a girl holding open a vehicle door. The lady at the car has hair as gray as a result of the inquisitive earlier lady, nevertheless her pores and pores and skin is considerably youthful.

“Hey, Bo.”

“What are you doing?”

“Why is it that you think I’m doing something?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question. Besides, I know you.”

“I wasn’t doing anything but chit chatting.”

“What did you say to that woman for her to go away shaking her head like that?”

“I told her what she wanted to know.”

“What was that? What happened to you?”

“Yup, what else?”

“What did you say?”

“I told her all about my trip to Ocean City.”

“Why you tell her that? You know that is not how you got injured.”

“Because if I had told her that I was actually injured by a stray bullet from a police officer’s gun who was running down my block and shooting at the back of a purse-snatching thief, she would not have felt the same despair about gun violence as she did hearing about my friend Eileen’s shooting on the boardwalk. Or the story of Sharon’s father shooting her because he thought she was a burglar. All my story does is confirm every stereotype about violence in North Philadelphia. And I’m sure my friends don’t mind me sharing or borrowing their stories to make a point about the unexpectedness of gun violence.”

“Maybe. But let people think what they want. What happened to you was no fault of yours. So who cares what they think? You are not the saving grace of North Philly.”

“I know, but I can’t help it sometimes.”

“Well, when any individual asks you what occurred to you, merely say . . . “

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

“Yeah, that’s good. Or tell them you’d rather not discuss it.”

“I like mine better.”

“Somehow I knew you would. I’m going inside to call and see why paratransit is late.”

“All right.”

When I get residence on my porch I’ll start my paper, for optimistic. Right after the double episode of This Old House goes off. I missed it closing week after I used to be sitting inside the photo voltaic and beginning my paper. Man, this photo voltaic is superior.

“Hi.”

“Hi. What is your name?”

“Thomas.”

“My name is Tameka. How old are you?”

“6.” He holds up six fingers. “Why are you sitting there?”

Super Woman to the rescue! I can’t go up on a chance to indicate little Thomas proper right here regarding the dangers of weapons. I larger hurry up sooner than my mother will get once more.

“Well, my cousin was playing with a . . . .”

First printed in No Restraints: An Anthology of Disability Culture in Philadelphia, Edited by Gil Ott, 2012. Republished with permission from New City Community Press, Philadelphia, PA.

 

Tameka Blackwell was employed by Liberty Resources, Inc. as a result of the Nursing Home Transition Supports Coordinator and as an Independent Living Services Specialist. She acquired fairly a couple of accolades for her dedication to the Independent Living philosophy and making a distinction in prospects’ lives from 2007 through 2010. One of these accolades was for most likely probably the most Nursing Home transitions in a single month. She moreover acquired the Jerry Segal Classic 2005 ‘Give Back” award from Magee Rehabilitation. She was a fierce advocate for the incapacity group, on a regular basis combating to make life larger for her second family.

Tameka acquired National Honor Society standing and held a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English (Cum Laude) from Temple University. She acquired a Certificate in Short Story Writing and Journalism from the National Correspondence School in Washington D.C. She volunteered as a motivational speaker through Magee Rehabilitation. She moreover labored as a part time paralegal at the Legal Clinic for the Disabled, Inc. which fueled her need to develop right into a lawyer.

Tameka co-authored a information titled No Restraints: An Anthology of Disability Culture in Philadelphia. Her private fast story was titled And the Sun Still Shines. Tameka shall be remembered for empowering folks with disabilities to grow to be vigilant advocates for themselves. She helped folks with disabilities to see that they do not must tolerate any kind of abuse or disrespect. She was a testament on how one could be self-advocating, unbiased, and vigorously social, all whereas having a incapacity.

Tameka liked listening to 70’s soul and jazz music, and writing. She found to remain and enjoy her life in a model new method – as a disabled particular person with independence, strong mindedness, vitality and confidence.

Biography sourced from the Tameka Blackwell Training Institute at Liberty Community Communication, Pennsylvania.

 

Carolyn Lazard was born in 1987 in California and lives and works in Philadelphia and New York. They acquired a MFA from the University of Pennsylvania in 2019 and a BA in Film and Anthropology at Bard College in 2010.

Lazard has printed fairly a couple of texts along with The World is Unknown, with Triple Canopy in 2019; Accessibility and the Arts: A Promise and A Practice with Recess and Common Field in 2019; and How to Be a Person inside the Age of Autoimmunity, with Cluster Magazine in 2013.

Lazard acquired the Louis Comfort Tiffany Foundation Biennial Grant; and The Pew Center for Arts and Heritage Fellowship, every in 2019; The Flaherty Fellowship; Wynn Newhouse Award; and Rema Hort Mann Artist Community Engagement Grant (with Canaries Collective), all in 2016.

They have participated in group exhibitions at Palais de Tokyo, Paris, France (forthcoming); Wexner Center for the Arts, Columbus, Ohio (forthcoming); Museum fur Moderne Kunst, Frankfurt, Germany; Gebert Foundation, Rapperswil, Switzerland; MIT List Visual Arts Center, Cambridge, Massachusetts; Institute of Contemporary Art, Philadelphia; Cell Project Space, London, UK; Whitney Biennial, The Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, New York; Contemporary Art Centre (CAC) Vilnius; SALTS, Basel, Switzerland; Galerie Francesca Pia, Zurich, Switzerland; Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco; Walker Art Center, Minneapolis; Shoot the Lobster, New York, New York; The Kitchen, New York, New York; New Museum, New York, New York.

In 2021 Lazard might have solo exhibitions at Cell Project Space, London UK; and Kunstverein Braunschweig, Braunschweig, Germany. In 2022 they might have a solo exhibition at the Walker Art Center, Minneapolis.

Link: Carolyn Lazard at Essex Street

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