Mixed Media
By Leonard C. Suskin
At the Percy Charles Gallery
October 5th, 2006
Bluebeard’s Treasure?
Nina Krusekis:
Found objects (steamer trunk, typewriter, watch chain) in Lucite.
Artist’s statement: As nature abhors a vacuum and that air will rush in to fill any empty space, a closed box is a vacuum of information; it draws attention in the same way a physical vacuum draws air. I encased the steamer trunk in Lucite to present a frozen moment at which the box is opened. One has made the choice to open the box, to dare as Pandora did to see what is inside, but the mystery is not yet revealed. After the revelation there’s nothing more than a collection of the box’s contents, but before there is the power of mystery.
A final note to readers of my blog: yes, this is the trunk. Was it what we feared? Something worse? Something innocent? No, I’ll not tell you what lies inside. This piece is, after all, a collaboration with each and every one of you. What you imagine it to be is as important as what it is in fact.
Through an Artist’s Eye (the blog of Nina Krusekis)
April 11th 2003
My mood today: Inspired
It’s a brilliant day here on the isle of Manhattan. The air is crisp and a bit cool, the skies the kind of living, sparkling blue one sees in the springtime when the world wakes up. I saw one object today that inspired me; it was an old-fashioned steamer trunk of the kind my grandparents might have carried their possessions in had they been wealthy enough to travel. The brass corner braces were dented and battered and the leather handles shiny with wear, but a very modern padlock hung on the scuffed and weathered brass hasp. The padlock was what caught my eye; on the trunk, it is the anachronism. Where did I see this vision? It was crammed into the back of a Honda hatchback which might once have been royal blue but was now the color of the sky after a summer storm. The car itself was pulling out of Central Park onto Fifth Avenue, through the vehicle exit known to those who care to know such things as the Children’s Gate. That made me wonder: wouldn’t it be a macabre irony if the body of a child were stuffed inside?
So, we have some elements: steamer trunk, new padlock, children. I’ll let the inspiration brew for now; watch this space for more! Meanwhile, it’s time for Tai Chi class. Farewell, until we meet again!
From the private diary of Nina Krusekis
April 11th, 2003
Don’t know why I keep going to Tai Chi. All those skinny little bitches crowding the back part of the room so they can whisper-gab, leaving the fat cows like me stuck in front, my copious ass on display every time I get into a horse stance, or bend to touch my toes. I don’t know why I keep going; the exercise is nice and I’ve always liked the space. It’s so New York; an open room with gently warped hardwood floors and a mirrored wall tucked away at the top of a dark, narrow staircase. Maybe I’ll paint it or something someday.
There was one new thing today — a new guy. He’s way too skinny with some wild unkempt beard and piercing blue eyes. Those eyes were on me every time I looked. He was either disgusted by my flab or checking me out. I hope he’s not some kind of fat fetishist.
I hope he is.
Through an Artist’s Eye
April 25th, 2003
My mood today: Intrigued
I have a confession to make: I’ve been keeping a secret from you. A new guy signed up at Tai Chi NYC last week, and at the risk of sounding all 1950s he’s just dreamy. Lean, race-horse limbs, the best blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and just enough of a hint of wildness in this crazy thick beard he wears to make me wonder just how wild and passionate he can be. The best thing is that he’s not one of those mind-numbed robots drawn to skinny-minnies with no hips and tiny little waists because that’s what the media says they should want. No, he appreciates a zaftig, voluptuous, full-figured woman like your humble artist-blogger. We’re going out for drinks, tonight. Next time I blog I’ll let you know if we have breakfast, too!
From the private journal of Nina Krusekis
April 26th, 2003
OMG he IS a chubby chaser — he just couldn’t get enough of my body. This is the first time in my life that “all night” really meant ALL night. At least he talked afterwards and even asked about my work. I showed old stuff, he liked it. He called my Rubens-style nude of Kate Moss with a voluptuous body “clever.” I’m not sure clever is what I was going for, but he’s good enough with his tongue in other ways that I can forgive that slip.
For those of you Ninaphiles who need every little detail, he’s tall, dark-skinned, has dark curly hair and piercing blue eyes. Amazing blue eyes. A kind of blue I could spend a week mixing paints to try to duplicate. If I ever get back into painting again, I HAVE to figure out that blue. Maybe I can paint my ceiling that color.
He asked for new stuff — I really need to start on something.
I’ll think about it.
To: Bruce McConnel
From: Nina Krusekis
Date: April 27, 2003
Subject: RE: RE: what a night!
Bruce,
Thanks for writing back, and your concern is SO sweet and so cute. You’re right, the thing with Zac isn’t a one-nighter. He’s funny, smart, and asks great questions. He’s into martial arts and all kinds of weird new-agey occult things. I can’t make up my mind whether he’s a flake or some kind of super-creative offbeat intellectual. Probably both. If he weren’t so weird he’d probably not be so desperate for some tail that he’s willing to fuck a whale.
I know, I know I shouldn’t complain. He is sweet and funny and clever. Maybe even inspiring.
Anyway, I promise you’ll get to meet him soon. Promise.
Love ya!
--Nina
From the private journal of Nina Krusekis
April 29th
Cream, two sugars. He did remember.
Happy day!
Through an Artist’s Eye
June 12th, 2003
My mood today: tickled!
It’s official — Zac has moved in. And you all wouldn’t believe the craziest coincidence.
Do any of you remember my post from April when I saw the mysterious stranger with a great old-fashioned steamer-trunk in the back of his car? Well, you’ll never guess what Zac stores his possessions in. All I can say is that it’s a good thing I’m a blogger and not a novelist, because this big a coincidence really wouldn’t fly in any but the pulpiest, cheesiest, dime-store fiction.
He hasn’t shown me what’s inside the mystery box yet, but for now I’m content to bask in the pure awesome unexpectedness of the whole thing. Don’t worry, my friends: this blog is your chance to see the world through my eyes. Once I solve the mystery, I’ll share it here.
In a not-unrelated note, Zac seems to be having an inspirational effect on me. So, starting tomorrow, I’m bringing back my long-missed “Digital Dawn” segment. That’s right, every morning before downing a second pot of coffee yours truly will upload a quick computer-graphic sketch, dream, or full-fledged miniproject. Today’s is this weird little alien-looking landscape I got by manipulating a close-up image of the hair on Zac’s forearm. Don’t worry — it won’t always be so Zac-centric. At least not completely.
Through an Artist’s Eye
June 14th, 2003
My mood today: pissed
Zac and I had a lovers’ quarrel, our first spat, our first fight. A fight is really what it was. You all aren’t going to believe this: He won’t let me open the trunk!
He had all kinds of joke answers when I asked what was in it, and I have to admit that some of them were quite clever. I can see a neat little project trying to incorporate as many of them as possible. So, according to Zac, the trunk:
Contains the only possessions he could salvage when the steamliner he was on a hundred years ago was captured by pirates.
He’s a time-traveler from the past and he’s always had it.
He’s a time-traveler from the future and it’s retro-chic.
It’s a magic portal to the fairy realm where he hides his summer house.
It’s full of old socks.
Etcetera. This was charming precisely until I realized that the SOB was serious. No matter how much I begg or plead, he won’t let me open the thing. In my own apartment. It just sits there under an old rug mocking me. With a fucking padlock. A good one.
Well. It feels better to get that off my chest. In a totally unrelated note, today’s “Digital Dawn” is on the subject of locks, bars, and gates. Enjoy.
From the private diary of Nina Krusekis
June 16th, 2003
Getting mountains of email about my blog post of two days ago; from “dump him” to “it’s like Bluebeard the pirate” to “let the poor man have his space”. I hope I didn’t overdo it; I don’t think Zac “gets” the blog and he really is too sweet (and too good in bed!) to risk losing over it. He’s still harping on me for wearing what he sees as such oversized clothes, but it’s easy for him to say: he’s not a woman and a fat cow to boot. Although I must admit, around him I feel like just a little bit less of a cow. And it is sweet of him to play along. He says that, so long as it’s important to me, he’s OK being in the blog. Even if he doesn’t quite get it.
To: Bruce Mconnell
From: Nina Krusekis
Date: June 17th, 2003
Subject: re: goat
Bruce,
I’m glad you like the new pieces. It’s great to be working again and to not feel that my whole life is centered around my latest temp job. I don’t want to give him all the credit, but Zac has totally been a shot in the arm for me. You two should meet if you promise not to hit on him.
Speaking of Zac, I get your concern and I admit that the feedback I got from the latest couple of blog postings was pretty rough on him. He gets what I’m doing though, and I think he’s on board with it. I DO let him read all the posts about him before they go online. If he’s to live with a serious artiste he’ll have to learn that managing the brand is as important as painting, sculpting, or pushing pixels around a screen. If the brand means that he isn’t always seen in the best light… well, let’s just say that I have ways of compensating him for that if ya know what I mean.
Love ya babe.
--Nina
Through an Artist’s Eye
July 3rd, 2003
My mood today: excited
Special news for you all today, my friends. Yours truly, the one and only Nina Krusekis, with her very own gallery show. That’s right, you’ll see real mixed-media, sculpture, and even a funky video installation if I can find a friend or a friend of a friend or even a friend of a friend of a friend willing to loan me [brand of computer/video processing equipment. Maybe Avid?] I’d be superduper careful with it and you’d completely be part of a real happening here in the art world.
October 3rd, at the Percy Charles Gallery. Super-special thanks for my special angel for making it happen — you know who you are. And also special thanks to Zac for all his patience and inspiration. You all could go a little easier on him in the feedback — even if he won’t let me open his damn mystery box.
Anyway, with or without the gear a great time should be had by all. Drop by. Look at what I can do while not constrained by these few pixels. Blog about it. Buy something. Tell your friends to drop by, blog about it, and especially to buy something. Maybe 2003 will be the year I stop being a starving artist and start being just an artist.
Maybe.
From the private journal of Nina Krusekis
July 7th, 2003
Fight with Zac, but a real one this time. He doesn’t want to go to my opening. HE DOESN’T WANT TO GO TO MY OPENING. He keeps muttering about how he can’t face all those people who think he’s either a secretive prick or Bluebeard the pirate. I never should have let him read the feedback. Two weeks ago he started putting his socks in the trunk as a sort of joke; now I can see his jaw muscles tighten every time he looks at it. Its effect on him has me thinking kinetic sculpture, but I’m just so mad at him for taking this all so personally and ruining what should be my big moment. Our big moment. He is, after all, part of the brand.
Private diary of Nina Krusekis
August 5th
I cheated. That’s right, after my fourth fight with Zac about his threats to blow off the opening — because I’ve manipulated my “adoring fans” into thinking he was a secretive psychopath — I hooked up with a sleazy middle-aged nobody who’d followed me online and claimed to have “connections”. The worst part is that I didn’t even believe the bastard. I was just feeling lonely and pissed off with myself and pissed off at Zac that I wanted a fuck to make it all better. Or something. The loser wasn’t even very good at it.
I’ll bet he’s married.
Through an Artist’s Eye
September 11th, 2003
I’ll skip my 9/11 tribute this year; I’m all tributed out. Instead, let me give a word of thanks to the man without whom I’d not be working as hard or as productively over the past six months: the goofily-named secretive yet sweet Zac Thor. Quickly, here are six things I learned from Zac over the past months:
1) Aikido is way more “martial” than tai-chi, but a couple can perform some of the moves together.
2) This is more fun when naked.
3) Your work looks different when seen through the eyes of your lover. Not better, not worse, just different.
4) The view from the top of the Empire State Building is breathtaking. Even if you’re not a tourist.
5) An old steamer trunk with a carpet tossed over the top makes a great coffee table. Even if you don’t know what’s inside of it.
6) There is no line six.
All in all, it’s shaping up to be a good year. Thanks, Zac. Sorry for all the mean things I’ve said about you.
Through an Artist’s Eye
September 28th, 2003
Today’s mood: numb.
There’s a faction here that will be glad to hear this news, but I’m still processing it: I threw Zac out. I’d been tired of his moping, his sullenness, and his unwillingness to participate in my professional triumphs. We had great times together, but it is over.
You ready for the final irony? After all the fighting, all the yelling, all the screaming, he left the goddamn trunk. Isn’t that a kick in the teeth! Maybe tomorrow I’ll buy the biggest pair of bolt-cutters I can find and answer this question once and for all.
Or, maybe not. Part of me likes having a genuine mystery on my hands. I’m sure that whatever IS in the box will be less interesting than all the things I’ve imagined.
Enough of the sadness. I have a gallery show to finish preparing for! Maybe there’ll be a new surprise or two. I might have lost Zac, but I have all of you. And my art.
That should be enough.
From the private journal of Nina Krusekis
October 1st, 2003
Ordinarily I’d be embarrassed to present a hackneyed “object in Lucite” and call it art, but I really think this one works. The blog, the stories, all of it together makes up the work. I think.
The crazy thing is that, looking back at this journal, I’m calling him “Zac” even here. It’s as if I conditioned myself not to write his real name. Well… I think I’ll leave it. Maybe if my posterity finds this they’ll be left with a mystery. Or not care.
In either event, the mystery will be part of the project that is my life.
Leonard C Suskin is a full-time father, full-time AV professional, and full-time husband to the smartest and most beautiful woman living in the great city of New York. In the stolen spaces between these full-times he listens to the voices in his head and pens their ramblings. This is his first time sharing those ramblings with the outside world at large.
