GeoVanna Gonzalez


Live Installation & Film

Without Goodbyes
Film 

HOW TO: Oh, look at me
Installation 
Film 

Lost Underground
Installation 
Film 

PLAY, LAY, AYE
Act 1
Act 2
Act 3
Act 4
Act 5
Act 6

When we open every window 
Installation 
Performance

Exotic Naps

Public Art

The Tea Room 
Moving Interlude
Through Morning of wish and ripen
2 & a possible 

Additional Works
FOREVER RIDE OF DIE 
Unresolved
 


Information
Bio
CV

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HOW TO: Oh, look at me, 2021

Materials:
Powder coated steel and expanded metal

Dimension:
120 x 192 x 144 inches

Fabrication:
Pulp Arts 
GeoVanna Gonzalez

Shows: 
Solo Exhibtion, Locust Projects, Miami Florida, 2021

Credits:
HOW TO: Oh, look at me is made possible, in part, with support from Locust Projects, Oolite Arts, Diaspora Vibe Cultural Arts Incubator, and Pulp Arts.

Photography by: 
Zachary Balber
Juan Luis Matos 

HOW TO: Oh, look at me is part of an ongoing series in which GeoVanna created work that visualizes poems featured in the online, open-source poetry collection tutorials (www.tutorials.fyi) by Martin Jackson. Inspired by his poem No Rothko the work considers how our identities are constantly being molded and shaped, a process reflected in both the work and the project that inspired it.

The structure is designed to represent the technological grid systems that shape our modern-day personal relationships and social exchanges. In the case of HOW TO: Oh, look at me, GeoVanna specifically turned her gaze to Jackson’s internet personal comments / marks on a work that exists in the public domain

The installation was accompanied by a film featuring two dancers, their movements responding to the sculpture, alluding to the way we interact online: those transitions we make as we modify our public and private personas; the things we share; the things we obscure; the things we surrender. 


No Rothko
after William Bronk

Somebody said to me, during the intermission,
that I remind her of a Rothko painting,
which surprised me. Surprised me that,
appealing as he is – us being there,
in that paint of his,
by not being there – that no,
I don’t have any poems
about any Rothkos.

Some of us paint to grope in the dark,
I tell her. Not one of us sees anything.
Listen: not one thing is there.
We are, all of us, edgeless,
and senseless. Look at me.
Oh, look at me.
We have to start now.

By Martin Jackson