Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)

June 18–July 3, 2010 / GLCCB / Baltimore, MD

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, shop the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, shop the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, this site the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, hospital a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, shop the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, this site the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, hospital a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, visit this
the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, shop the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, this site the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, hospital a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

King Me was a multimedia installation at Open Space conceived by walking up and down Baltimore’s Charles Street. The works in the space drew reference to one another and attempted to bring the viewer back to the same locations again and again. Familiarity and routine (as content) colluded to re-route the viewer’s perception.

Black flyers passed out by hosts foreshadowed an upcoming exhibition and the opening night’s afterparty. Zip-tied shut, site
the flyers remained unread in the hands of the visitors. The next morning this induced “blackout” became a pre-scription for recovery of missing information.

An automobile draped with a blue tarp sat halfway between the reception and exhibition areas. Its hood casually assumed the role of a seat, a cocktail napkin. Its rear, fitted with a boombox, incidentally became a rarefied object on display. Unplugging and pulling out, the car became itself again, providing the artists (and those who could fit) a gaybar getaway. The tarp fell, unfurling for the remaining visitors an afterimage: a dog standing in a doggy door, looking to the future while keeping two paws in the past.

Twink replaced Art in 2011, more about and the older gay men of Baltimore were used as readymades.

MoMT, thumb the second exhibition by DUOX, bastardizes the museum as a way to engage a stereotype in the queer community by remaking a former LGBT bookstore into a place of anachronistic non-linearity. The diversity of form and methodologies for generating the work align with the diversity one may come to understand amongst these individuals. While the previous project, King Me, was an attempt to use a specific place as a prompt, MoMT seeks to imagine—then generate—a place of negotiation, standards, criticality, and occasionally excitement and where the stereotype is positioned as protagonist. Tropes of the artifact align with traditional art forms to create a new body of work. In MoMT the artists’ engagement with theatre, provocation, and coded information “…come[s] out of being frustrated with the human condition… [a]nd how people refuse to understand other people.” (Bruce Nauman)

Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)
Wickerham & Lomax | Museum of Modern Twink (MoMT)