Directed by Milo Christie and Sam Dybeck.
Directed by Milo Christie and Sam Dybeck.
in the Hole
Gabriel Chalfin-Piney (they/them) is Chicago-based object maker and performer, with a background in cohort creation and public programming. World building, self taught spiritual and artistic practices, along with multi-sensorial collaborative performance centers much of the work they engage in.
Gabriel has held positions at the Lunder Institute for American Art - Colby Museum of Art, Woodstock Byrdcliffe Guild, School of the Art Institute of Chicago and Vassar College’s Powerhouse Theater. They have organized for the Chicago Parks Department, Colby Museum of Art, The Highline Network, Greene Block + Studios, SITE Galleries and the Lunder Institute for American Art. They have performed at the Dorsky Museum, Panoply Performance Lab, Chicago Artists Coalition, High Concept Labs, Grace Exhibition Space, and Whitney Museum of Art. Gabriel holds an MA in Arts Administration and Policy from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.
They had to walk down the train tracks, overgrown brambled, to reach the stashed boat. This was their first time alone. The cat tails heavy with wind and ice from the river tickled their hat, an earth laden head massager. They stumbled in their boots, recently delivered, fresh with water resistant wax atop the hills of witches nipples and river weeds. They had been told about the dangers of pushing off in this alcove, but their ego was buoyant and horny, wanting to capture a memory to share with the couple who had collectively slapped their bare ass in bed. They pulled the boat onto the beach, sand muddled under their boots, pooling fresh clouds up into the tops of their socks. They pushed off of the fallen birch, wincing-whining and were river set, time to recover from the mounding wetness of their feet. The stream began to open up to the Hudson, clearing from green conservation growth, small nodules sitting up, netting a blanket of mossy mucus from their hole. The paddling continued but the boat had stopped and with each stroke more stuck inside. The mixture of the wet companions of their feet and the karmic retribution of last night brought streaming down the face a heavy violence that refused to accept the reality of losing. Each oar netted in nipples, growing immovable with the river’s snot. The tantrum brought new damages, as the nipples pierced the hull, the numbing cold drawn up through the thermal, entering each layer. They stomped on the latched, kicking away motionless intruders, their shoe filled with bony traps. They unlaced their boot, hoping backwards into what immediately became a graceful back dive off of the boat. They reached the shore with relative ease, turning around—treading—the nipples suckling gently at the air draining the wood into the dark. They walked back to the parking lot defeated and called the couple, they were making gnocchi tonight.
The Saugerties Lighthouse
Painted Hudson River water chestnuts (witches nipples or devil pod) dried Santa Cruz yarrow (devil’s nettle) and fishing hook.
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3336 W Lawrence Ave #303
Chicago, IL 60625
Open Saturdays 1-4 while a show is up.