This born-digital, monograph-heft publication visually and textually documents the space “produced” by an early-twentieth-century slideshow of the Grand Canyon made by commercial photographer Henry Peabody. It was the leading publication, in 2016, by Stanford University Press’s digital publishing program.
A sound art installation I made in 2021 while in residency with the Institute for Advanced Study at the University of Minnesota. I play a waterphone instrument filled with fresh water collected from some of Minnesota’s famous “10,000 lakes.”
I walk among the twelve Fortune 500 corporate headquarters in the Minneapolis-St. Paul metropolitan region using a compass to navigate.
An ongoing, long-term conversation I’m having with the Mojave Desert in southeastern California. Part of my “Dwelling <—> Movement” series, for this installation I use artist books and performance as residues of my system for communicating with peri-human entities.
Click here to browse through collections of photographs that I’ve made. Most of them are the results of themed walks, and tend to represent extended relationship-building with certain landscapes.
For 5 years I was a member of this critical performance artist collective. Our group designs guided hikes throughout urban southern California while performing the role of the National Park Service Ranger.
This is a book I wrote, published in 2017 by the University of California Press. It is a spatial-theoretical take on how biological human bodies are in fact materially integrated with “extra-corporeal” technologies, often far from where the body appears to be. I use the historical case study of the Kellogg’s cereal company to frame my discussion.
Artist residency in a shipping container in Minneapolis. I made a series of walking scores (loose instructions) for experiencing urban space and re-mediating those experiences in various mediums.
This is an artist book I made combining photo-polymer gravure with inkjet prints along with letterpress poetry. What might the land be saying?
In residency at the Institute of Advanced Uncertainty in San Francisco, I make a multi-panel charcoal drawing inspired by a creative reading of David Thompson’s 1921 text Routes to Desert Watering Places in the Mohave Desert Region.
Portraits that depict basic goods of everyday life. There are rules: the goods must be brand new, I must buy them, and--importantly--they must be the cheapest available version of that good that I can possibly find.
Plastic plants sprouting from a field of salt. In the geologic age of humans, as it were, this dystopic notion of a nature so far removed from its idyllic past is quickly becoming reality.
These are not maps exactly, but urban forms that tend to repeat across regions with shared history and culture. To revolt against state-sponsored, racist violence in any particular city around the world, the tactics must be informed by how the city is arranged.
This machine never makes the same thing twice. It's a kinetic sculpture that looks like it could really do some efficient work, but in the end forges something new each time, rendering its role in the motive of profit completely useless.
This is a record of my attempts at establishing technique and aesthetic during the first 19 months of my Master of Fine Arts degree program at the University of Minnesota. It is neither a portfolio nor is it comprehensive.
I was going after images that had a hard-punch-flash feel to them, like the billions of horrible cheap-flash photos taken at bars by people documenting their friends with alcohol, an image that stands in for “this is what fun looks like.”
A visual response to Jonathan Murdoch’s 1998 article The Spaces of Actor-Network Theory with artist-collaborators at the University of Oklahoma.
In aerial photography, blue specks in Southern California come in the form of swimming pools and in the form of plastic tarps. This is a talk I gave called "Heliophilia Vs. Umbrellization."