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Project #3(Revised)-Arts Review Monumental Vulnerability: Kristine Potter Captures Moments of Youth at West Point

The exhibition opening of “The Gray Line” occurred at Light Work Syracuse on February 3rd, 2017. “The Gray Line” was displayed at Light Work from January 17th to March 3rd  According to their website, Light Work is “ A non-profit photography organization supporting artists since 1973” located on Waverly Avenue in the Robert B. Menschel Media Center. Their website has links to past exhibitions and information about their artist in residency program, which show that a broad range of styles and photographic techniques represented at Light Work.

Outside view of Light Work 

Light Work is located in the same building as Watson Hall. A dorm/art gallery is an unusual tenant combination that begs questions that have gone unanswered by my research. Small pieces from students at Syracuse cover the walls of the hallway, separate from the main exhibit.  There is also a workspace for artists with multiple photo printers behind a glass wall next to the main gallery. Clean white walls, glass doors, and muted yet clear lighting characterize the main gallery.

Interior of Light Work Main Gallery during “The Gray Line” Exhibition- note the size of the photos.

“The Gray Line” is a series of portraits of West Point Military Academy cadets taken by Kristine Potter between 2005-2010. All of the photographs in the series were taken on a digital SLR camera. The photos were digitally edited to be black and white, with low contrast, hence the “gray” effect. For this exhibition at Light Work, the photos were printed large, around four feet by four feet, and mounted with the center at eye level. Many featured a single soldier. However, some had two, but they were often not interacting.

The posing of this portrait is awkward and uncomfortable, particularly because he is on the rocks. There is no depth, especially because the gray camouflage is lightened to almost match the rocks completely. (Source)

Each cadet is dressed in full dress uniform or camouflage combat fatigues and captured candidly standing, lying down, or looking into the distance. Upon first glance, the photos are striking by sheer size, but the content is not particularly attractive, with stark, plain backgrounds in the woods. The washed out grayness gives the overall aesthetic a lack of dimension. Therefore, the eye is not immediately drawn into the photo

Between some of the photos are smaller, darker black and white photos which were taken by Kristine’s father taken while he was deployed in Vietnam. Her father was one of her inspirations for this project, so she used four of his photos as diptychs to show military members on the job. These pictures, though still black and white,  enhanced the visual aesthetic Kristine’s project as they broke up the larger portraits. The backgrounds of her father’s photos were more unique, as they were taken in the jungles of Vietnam and none of the men were posed, thus creating a more naturally appealing photo.

Kristine's father’s photo on the left.

Another of Kristine’s father’s photos. The darker contrast gives greater dimension. It is apparent this is a candid shot. A gas cloud can be seen in the sky, providing context to the dangerousness of the situation, yet this photo captures a moment of peace in the jungle. The shapes of the leaves and density of the forest are more complex and exciting to look at than the background of Kristine’s portraits. (Photo source)

Kristine is a self-described “military brat” with nearly every man in her family holding some rank in the armed forces. She grew up in Georgia and as a kid, she “never questioned” her family dynamic- heavily patriarchal with rigid portrayals of masculinity. After leaving Georgia and got her MFA, she began to question her childhood a bit more. She wanted to understand the culture and “her ongoing interests in male archetypes,” (seen in her other work )  led her to West Point. She recruited young cadets to act as models for her every other weekend. It is important to note that the men at West Point are young and incredibly intelligent. West Point is highly selective, rigid, and intense, as are all of the military academies. Kristine wanted to capture these young men outside of that environment; as individuals on the brink of adulthood. An essential element of her photographs is vulnerability. The uniqueness in these portraits, explained by Kristine comes from the juxtaposition of subject appearance, pose, and background. Photographing the cadets, she asked them to do what made them feel comfortable As a result, these tough, highly trained men begin to take on a more youthful demeanor. They look like kids playing dress-up in the woods, rather than rigid, militaristic men whose lives are characterized by order and hard work. 

The loose fit of this man’s clothing gives the sense of a child playing dress-up in his father’s old uniform. His face is softened by the low contrast, making him look no more than 14. He is minimized by the looming boulder he sits on, contemplating. (Photo source)

During the question and answer portion after Kristine’s introduction, someone raised their hand and asked: “Aren’t these the photos that broke Buzzfeed?” Kristine, rather reluctantly, replied, “Yes, in a way.”Kristine, a starving artist, was taken aback when a Buzzfeed author approached her about running an article featuring her photos. Almost immediately after it was posted,  “The Gray Line” was determined by the Facebook community to be homoerotic and disrespectful to the military. Here is the link to the actual Buzzfeed article(archived) which has since been taken down due to backlash.

One of the more controversial photos from “The Gray Line.” The men are wrestling. However, some interpreted their close contact as having sexual undertones. (Photo source)

I was stunned by this reaction to the photos. Where did it come from? Was it cognitive dissonance due to the juxtaposition of tough servicemen posing in gentle, innocent ways? It wasn’t until I did some secondary research on Kristine Potter that I realized these claims were not completely unfounded. Her previous photo series on her website depicts men posing in seductive ways, and Kristine has publically acknowledged the photos have sexual undertones. There are undeniable similarities in those photos and “The Gray Line” portraits. This knowledge, however, should not be taken as fact. Kristine did not publically acknowledge “The Gray Line” photos are sexual, she adamantly opposes the idea. The exhibition at Light Work is the first time Kristine has shown these photos in public since the incident in 2014. She referred to her choice to print larger versions of the photos for the Light Work exhibition as “monumental vulnerability” or as the less artistic folk like to put it “go big or go home.”

Light Work’s hours are 10am-6pm Sunday through Friday. Their current featured exhibitions are George Awde: Scale Without Measure   and Eric Gottesman: If I Could See Your Face, I Would Not Need Food (Ka Fitfitu Feetu) . 

Read this review here

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Art Encounter #3- “When Breath Becomes Air”

I read the book, “When Breath Becomes Air” in three separate locations: on a plane, in my room, and waiting outside of Stolkin Auditorium for my 8:25 am Statistics class to begin. In each place, I cried extensively. I am talking large, hot tears accompanied by the occasional sob. No book has ever garnered such extreme emotion out of me, but such is the beauty of the late Dr. Paul Kalanithi’s brief memoir. 

Paul Kalanithi was 36 years old and in his final year of neurosurgery residency when he was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. If there is a worst case scenario for the diagnosis of a terminal illness, I believe Kalanithi experienced it. Not only was he a young, married man, but he was a neurosurgeon. He had spent the better part of 6 years in residency (on top of four years of medical school) training in the most demanding, time-consuming, and challenging specialty in the field of medicine. He was at the top of his field, with so many accomplishments behind him and much more ahead. To me, this amplified the weight of his illness. He had trained to save an untold amount of lives over the course of his career. 

Dr. Kalanithi, his wife Lucy , and their daughter Acadia

Source: http://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2016/02/12/466189316/inside-a-doctors-mind-at-the-end-of-his-life

Kalanithi’s dying wish was to fill his numbered days with meaning in light of his physical suffering. He struggled with the question of how to spend his limited time. Should he continue working as a neurosurgeon? Should he devote his time to writing a novel- something he had always wanted to do, especially given that he had a B.A. and M.A. in English Literature from Stanford University? Or should he start a family with his wife, Lucy? In short, he does all of these things to some extent.  

“Death may be a one-time event, but living with terminal illness is a process.”

He achieved a masterpiece. I felt the impermanence of life, heavy and daunting, for weeks after reading this book. I wrestled with the idea of accepting death as a part of life; this book caused some serious introspection. Kalanithi painted a picture of his life, and it’s purpose in such a way that caused me to focus on what my life means to me. How do I find my purpose, my reason for existence? I have wanted to devote my life to medicine for some time now. I found “When Breath Becomes Air” to be an affirmation to me. All of this hard work pays off, and one day I will be able to help ease the suffering of others. This avalanche of thoughts I experienced is what great art is supposed to do: make you feel something. Kalanithi disclosed personal struggle without holding back, and in doing so, he has reached millions (the book has been a #1 New York Times bestseller). I bought this book as per my mother’s recommendation. I like to pretend I don’t have the same taste in everything as her, but I usually do. I would recommend “When Breath Becomes Air” to anyone. It is important to feel the painful emotions every once in awhile.

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Mentor Reviewer: Holland Cotter

Holland Cotter is an accomplished art critic who has won numerous awards including the Pulitzer Prize for Criticism in 2009 (nyt.com). At the New York Times, Holland Cotter is the co-chief art critic and has written many pieces for the Times, with a focus on art from China and Africa.

His voice is distinctively that of a storyteller. He is a person who is passionate about art of all kinds and wants to let others know about the beauty he sees in art and the world through his many travels, especially in China and Africa. Not only important to Holland is a rich descriptive narrative about the physical art, but also backstory on the artist and historical context of the piece. Holland wants to tell the whole story behind a piece, which is what I really like about his reviews. He is far less of a critic than I expected an art reviewer to be. I was ready to read pretentious, uppity critiques on something I have a minimal understanding of (fine art). Instead, I got interesting, historically and socially conscious stories on selected works from artists of all nationalities.  For example, he wrote an article, Tattoo Ink: How It Got Under New York’s Skin about a collection of art about the history of tattooing that was to appear at the New York Historical Society. Leave it to Holland, the Harvard-educated, Pulitzer Prize-winning, writer to compose a detailed, historically apt review on something as seemingly arbitrary as tattoos. I felt that I did not need to have background knowledge on art to understand his points. He tackles racial issues, such as the lack of African art in New York museums as well as gender issues such as the growing number of female artists in China. 

Some conventions of arts reviews include a description of the physical gallery and when the pieces will be up and also a reasoning as to why the art is important. Holland not only gives you a reason to want to see the art for yourself, he also makes a case for the importance art holds in our society.

A third article by Holland, part of his Pulitzer Prize-winning works can be found here. 

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“It’s not art, it’s design!!!!”- An Interview with Erica Stevens, Industrial Design Student at Rochester Institute of Technology

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“It’s Not Art, It’s Design”-Supplemental images

Erica created this self-portrait on the computer program,  Illustrator this year. 

Self-portrait of Erica from high school

Here is some of Erica’s work from high school- she is an incredible portrait artist!

Me!- This portrait won a Scholastic Gold Key award

Erica’s friend, Erin

Here is the process of one of Erica’s most current projects taken from her portfolio. She designed this jewelry box for a class project and then gave it to me as a Christmas gift!

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Art Encounter #2: Lo and Behold: Werner on the Worldwide Web

(Source:loandbehold-film.com)

For my second art encounter, I decided to keep things local. Instead of going to an established art space like LightWork on Waverly (5 minutes away by foot), I encountered art on my personal computer through the ever bountiful, Netflix.com.

I am a passive consumer of the videographic arts. I do not know anything about film directors or filmmaking in general because frankly, I do not care. I like movies and documentaries because they are easy to consume (sometimes difficult to digest). I adhered to my usual standard of blissful ignorance when I watched Lo and Behold, Reveries of the Connected World with my friend a few weeks ago. I quickly realized Werner Herzog’s voice alone makes himself a difficult man to ignore. The opening scenes of the film are various shots of UCLA’s campus, where the theoretical founding of the Internet occurred. We follow Leonard Kleinrock, one of the OG computer scientists of the internet to the room where the internet began. Here is Werner on that bit: "The corridors here look repulsive, and yet this one leads to some sort of a shrine. Ouch. Werner’s marked German accent combined with the use of the saddest adjectives in existence to describe the seemingly mundane, often coming to some sort of philosophical conclusion in the span of a sentence is an absolute delight to encounter (in the name of art, of course)

Leonard Kleinrock punching the Interface Message Processor aka the “shrine” (Source: https://samepageteam.com/2016/08/15/lo-and-behold-as-werner-herzog-wanders-into-the-future/)

I did some quick n’ dirty research on Werner Herzog and found that his website’s home page gives the most accurate photographic depiction of the man I could imagine:

Werner: Taciturn? Tired? Omnipotent?(photo Source: http://www.wernerherzog.com/)

 Werner was born in Munich, Germany in September 1942 and grew up in a Bavarian Village. He made his first film at 19 and has “produced, written, and directed more than sixty feature and documentary films” (wernerherzog.com) for which he has won numerous awards. His style is, of course, distinctive; according to Stephano Ordorico, a movie critic for  OffScreen.com “When analysing his production, it becomes clear that any attempt to make a canonical distinction between fiction and non-fiction is completely inadequate; this is because a mixture and combination of these two forms is always present in his films, in the effort to reach what Herzog himself calls an ‘ecstatic truth’.” Herzog’s search for truth and the method by which he does this in Lo and Behold is no different. 

Lo and Behold, Reveries of the Connected World is essentially the history of the internet that touches on topics ranging from the physical birthplace of the internet to the implications of a future internet with metacognitive abilities. Through interviews with computer scientists, internet addicts, physicists, and a wide range of others affected by the internet in a negative way, we get a hopeful but often dismal picture of our future in relation to the internet. Werner is offscreen during these interviews and has no filter in the questions he asks, which makes for many an awkward moment. At one point he interviews Elon Musk the CEO of SpaceX, asks him if he can take him to Mars (Elon is visibly nervous at this suggestion), and then gets Elon to admit the only dreams he can remember are his nightmares. 

Sup Elon. (Source: https://www.inverse.com/article/19982-lo-and-behold-werner-herzog-interviews-elon-musk-life-on-mars)

Though I was lost on some of the more technical jargon in the film (I still have no idea what the internet is) I highly recommend this documentary. It is equally terrifying and enlightening. There are moments where some profound philosophical questions are raised, such as Werner’s  “Does the internet dream?”. The idea of a blurring of the internet and our reality as humans scares me. 

My favorite scene is a shot of a few Buddhist monks in front of the Chicago skyline. They are at a beautiful landmark view; however, they are all glued to their phones. Werner speculates: 

“Have the monks stopped meditating?Have they stopped praying? They all seem to be tweeting.” (photo source: http://www.thestranger.com/film/2016/08/17/24465139/werner-herzog-looks-for-the-internet-god-in-lo-and-behold-reveries-of-the-connected-world )

The effect of this art surprised me, as it was not the subject matter that left as much of an impression as it was my introduction to the film genius that is Werner Herzog. I plan on watching many more of his films. There is a now a clear turning point in my life: the pre-Herzog years and the post- Herzog years.  I now cannot make it through a day without thinking in terms of  WWWS (What Would Werner Say). I love to both marvel at and laugh at the great Herzog (with the utmost respect). For valentine's day, I gave a special someone a booklet of Valentines from wernerherzogvalentines.com. I cannot believe such a website exists, and that I typed “Werner Herzog valentines” into the Google search bar, but I am truly thankful there is a niche market out there of Herzog personality enthusiasts like myself.

Extra stuff: A personal favorite cameo by Werner

http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2015/01/14/werner_herzog_cameo_on_parks_and_rec_watch_the_mad_german_auteur_make_fun.html

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Project #1- The Zenith of a Moment:  Mike Brodie’s “A Period of Juvenile Prosperity”

This photo as a song would be “I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine” by The Dirty Projectors.

”Compare it to the way a dog puts his nose out of a window, and the wind is smashing him in the nose and - you know, all these senses are just like, whoosh!” (Brodie on NPR).

The physical experience of train travel is unmatched to any other form of transportation. You are more intimately connected with the surrounding landscape, as the rails are thin and integrated with the earth and the travel is at an often languid speed, with your eye level always at the horizon. Growing up in Central New York, my only exposure to American railroads came from placing pennies on the railroad tracks for the freight trains to flatten overnight. Fast forward to my post high school romp around Asia where I spent two months exploring Sri Lanka, a pearl shaped island off the coast of India lost in time. A central mode of transport in Sri Lanka is through their dilapidated railway system. I spent days riding trains with my legs swinging out the boxcar door through the tea plantations of the central plateau and along the coastline. 

(My photos from Sri Lanka, somewhere in the Hill Country region, headed towards Ella. The boy with the guitar asked me where I was from. I told him America, and he replied: “Ok since you are American I will play you ‘Hotel California.'” One of my favorite moments from the trip.)

I was aching to see what caught other’s eyes in this old way of travel I had gotten myself attached to.  I stumbled across a link to Mike Brodie’s photo series, “A Period of Juvenile Prosperity” online while browsing through pictures on Flickr. I was immediately hooked. Brodie’s photos offered glimpses into a facet of American life I thought ended with the Great Depression: the hobo.

“Subterranean Homesick Blues” - Bob Dylan. These two are “riding suicide” a term for riding in the most dangerous part of the train with little support. They seem careless of the rushing earth below them; only focused where they are going, not how they arrive. This photo shows Brodie as a participant in riding the rails, not merely a bystander taking photos. Likely, he was just as involved in the conversation as these two are. He was there as a vagabond first, the photography only happened along the way.  

Mike Brodie, aka “The Polaroid Kidd” hopped his first train with a Polaroid Spectra and a pack of 35mm film at the age of 17. What was intended to be a three-day trip manifested into a lifestyle in which he put over 50,000 miles on train under his belt and produced multi-award winning collections of photos. Brodie never intended to be a photographer, yet his eye for candid, raw shots of vagabond life brought him celebrity status in the photography world. “A Period of Juvenile Prosperity” (2006-2009)  captures the thrills and loneliness of life on the rails. While absorbing these images of teenagers traveling with their home on their backs, dressed in rags and covered in soot, as blurred landscapes race by, one can ascertain their collective movement as a Kerouac-esque mission.  Each person, no older than I am, is certain to have a novel anecdote as to how they ended up in this rousing and tiresome life, though I would imagine most wouldn’t be willing to tell it. These photos are unapologetic, see  “Soup” hanging off the back of a train while flipping the bird, the young mother breastfeeding her naked child on the beach, or the girl flashing her bloodied underwear.  

“White Riot”- The Clash. Here is Soup, a guy who does not give a single fuck; see the twisted grin coupled with the profanity in his body language all while hanging off of a train traveling upwards of 50 mph. I see a 13-year-old kid on his face, as well as in his actions (and hairless chest!). The bright pink stripes on his shirt stand out against the bland colors of the background, further adding to Soup’s powerful statement to society. 

“That Summer Feeling”- Jonathan Richman. Sweet, heartwrenching innocence; a gentle moment between young mother and child. The most humanly beautiful moment Brodie captured in the series.

Amongst the angst and punk, the vintage effect of the 35mm film visually softens the harshness with muted colors and a hazy glow from the sun; the scenes are oddly romantic. The photos are all taken at the zenith of a beautiful moment; a few seconds later, the sunlight may have been less golden, or the expression on someone’s face less expressive. Brodie seemingly predicts these moments with impressive consistency. His genuine natural talent is magnified by each photo remaining unedited because it was captured on film and printed directly from the roll.

“Girl Is On My Mind”- The Black Keys. She’s reading Flannery O’Connor. Enough said. 

“Deep Blue”- Arcade Fire. Here are the opening lines, fitting for this photo:

Here In my place and time And here in my own skin I can finally begin Let the century pass me by Standing under night sky Tomorrow means nothing

Mike Brodie shows us a portrait of an American life forgotten through his lens, and more importantly, through a dying medium. Brodie’s photographic epoch occurred as film photography’s ended in the early-mid 2000s with the closure of Polaroid and Kodak’s film manufacturing centers. Without realizing it, Brodie may have composed one of the most beautiful finales of Polaroid film during its mass production era. In his 2006 article, “The End of Film Photography” for the New York Institute of Photography, Richard Martin speculates, ”Ask any consumer why they bought a digital camera and they'll tell you, "no film to buy or develop", and of course the instant feedback digital provides.” (Martin 2006).  In a culture of “instants”: Google, social media, smartphones with cameras, I think we can all take a lesson from the Polaroid Kidd in daily consciousness. A Period of Juvenile Prosperity shows the beauty in patience; taking the time to preserve moments for their inherent feelings and moving on. Finally, when the time comes to revisit these periods in our lives, whether it be after developing a roll of film or chatting with an old friend, let us be surprised with our creations.  

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Arts Encounter #1- The Gray Line: Monumentalizing Vulnerability

Let me be upright with you: I chose this Art Encounter because it was a three-minute walk away from my dorm according to Google Maps. It was a bonus that the art I was set to encounter was a series of photographs, as I am a fan of exposing my eyes/brain to new photos. On Thursday, February 3rd at 6:45 pm I walked to Light Work Syracuse, located on Waverly Ave to see the exhibition opening of The Gray Line, a series of portraits by Kristine Potter. Being new to SU, I had never been to Light Work before so I did some “quick and dirty” research beforehand about the place. According to their website, Light Work is “ A non-profit photography organization supporting artists since 1973”. The site has links to past exhibitions and information about their artist in residency program. Not surprisingly, I ended up on a Google binge looking at work of their past photographers. So it goes, so it goes.  

Light Work is located in the same building as Watson Hall. A dorm/art gallery is an unusual tenant combination; makes me wonder who the landlord is. Maybe it is symbolic in an “art imitates life, life imitates art” sense? As I entered Light Work, I had no idea what to expect. It was my first time attending a photography exhibition. Boy, was I pleased with what I walked into. Clean white walls with incredible photographs, light chatter between attendants, and three full tables of food and beverages. I am talking fruit and vegetables of all varieties, mini wraps, fried potato and vegetable balls, pasta, bread, wine, juice, tea, coffee. It was magnificent. Life is full of beautiful surprises.  I arrived as Kristine Potter was getting ready to begin her speech for the opening, so I loaded up a plate with pineapple and fried potato balls (a new favorite) and followed my fellow art encounterers into the main gallery.

“The Gray Line” is a series of portraits of West Point Military Academy cadets taken by Kristine Potter between 2005-2010. The uniqueness in these portraits comes from the juxtaposition of subject appearance, pose, and background. Each cadet is dressed in full dress uniform or camouflage combat fatigues and  captured candidly standing, lying down, or looking into the distance. Upon first glance, the photos are beautiful but not particularly interesting. They are all black and white with stark, plain backgrounds in the woods. It is not until you come to understand the story behind these photos do they take on profound meaning.

Kristine is a self-described “military brat” with nearly every man in her family holding some rank in the armed forces. She grew up in Georgia and as a kid, she “never questioned” her family dynamic- heavily patriarchal with rigid portrayals of masculinity. After she left Georgia and got her MFA, she began to question her childhood a bit more. She wanted to understand the culture and “her ongoing interests in male archetypes,” (seen in her other work )  led her to West Point. She recruited young cadets to act as models for her every other weekend. It is important to note that the men at West Point are young and incredibly intelligent. West Point is highly selective, rigid, and intense, as are all of the military academies. Kristine wanted to capture these young men outside of that environment; as individuals on the brink of adulthood. An essential element of her photographs is vulnerability. When photographing the cadets, she asked them to do what made them feel comfortable As a result, these tough, highly trained men begin to take on a more boyish demeanor. They look like kids playing dress-up in the woods.

Another element of the series is Kristine’s father’s photos (the smaller ones) from Vietnam. Her father was one of her inspirations for this project, so she used four of his photos as diptychs to show military members on the job. I liked these pictures a lot, maybe even a little more than Kristine’s. I thought the backgrounds had a lot going on and none of the men were posed, thus creating a more naturally appealing photo.    

The most remarkable detail of the night came when someone raised their hand and asked: “Aren’t these the photos that broke Buzzfeed?” Kristine, rather reluctantly, replied, “Yes, in a way.” For brevity’s sake, I will include the link to the actual Buzzfeed article   (archived) which has since been taken down due to backlash and an interview with Kristine on what happened. In short, “The Gray Line” was determined by the Facebook community to be homoerotic and disrespectful to the military. I was stunned by this reaction to the photos. Where did it come from? Was it cognitive dissonance due to the juxtaposition of tough servicemen posing in gentle, innocent ways?  The exhibition at Light Work is the first time Kristine has shown these photos in public since the incident in 2014. She referred to her choice to print larger versions of the photos for the Light Work exhibition as “monumental vulnerability” or as the less artistic folk like to put it “go big or go home.”

Here is some bonus material I accrued in the hour and a half I was there.  Apparently, if you are a photographer you  “make” a picture not “take” a picture. I was confused when Kristine Potter said she “made” these photos, so I looked around to see if anyone else was wondering what the heck she was talking about. They weren’t. I then tried to feign my indifference to the confusing terminology. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that “making” sounds a lot more artistic than “taking a photo.” Plus, you aren’t “taking” the photo from anyone (maybe just light?).  There seemed to be a dress code at this exhibit opening that consisted of large glasses, acute haircuts, turtlenecks, baggy 90’s era sweatshirts, mom jeans, converse sneakers, and sleep deprivation. I do not mean this in a condescending way, only noting my observations.   Fortunately,  I was wearing a turtleneck, so I did not stick out like the unseasoned art appreciator I truly am. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe that happened to be my only clean shirt.

Overall, Art Encounter #1 was fun, surprising, and delicious. It was lovely to speak with the artist in question at the end. Kristine Potter is a cool lady, and she appreciated when I told her that this was my first time at a photo gallery. I liked the pictures but loved the story behind them more.