I Arrange the Stars, 2024, vintage crystal, glass, quartz, obsidian, tourmaline, and mixed media
Scanning for the Claire Oliver Gallery from the corner of 135th Street and Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Boulevard, I suddenly glimpse my old high school, a Collegiate Gothic behemoth rising from the crest of St. Nicholas Park. More than 40 years ago, the High School of Music and Art's aspirational student body called it the "Castle on the Hill." I remember how our teachers, including several practicing Buddhists, wore the internal struggle between ambition and integrity on their faces, and I still think of them fondly, even those whose erratic behavior never quite lived up to their ideals. While I'm caught in bittersweet reverie, a large jewel squatting in a windowfront across the street catches a thin shaft of sunlight and tugs on my eyes. I jaywalk as if drawn by a tractor beam and stand outside Lauren Fenster-stock's "Some Lands Are Made of Light," marveling at the sparkling heft of I Arrange the Stars (2024). The title alone makes me smile, underscoring the old push-me-pull-you of ego and humility, and the form, oddly reminiscent of the insatiable carnivorous flower from Little Shop of Horrors, illustrates the relentless undulating attractions and repulsions of desire.
April 19, 2025
