FOOD AS ART: Pamela Anderson’s Legacy Dinner
When I first wrote about the Pfister Hotel Artist-in-Residence Pamela Anderson a little over a year ago, I contrived a letter from her to me, written from a plane: Dear Dominic, I’m writing this from 28,000 feet. Soon, I will touch down on the hotel’s carpeted runway and disembark in my new studio-for-a-year. I haven’t met […]
PLUME SERVICE II | December 10, 2016 | More “Hearing Voices”
As promised, here are a few more stories inspired by the paintings in The Pfister Hotel. The first was written by Amy Miller–we squealed in delight at its ability to be both formal sounding and naughty. The second is another by Amy, a letter from a character in the hazy painting who is barely recognizable at […]
PLUME SERVICE II | December 10, 2016 | “Hearing Voices”
What is “voice”? It’s what comes out of our mouths when we speak, the reverberation of air through our vocal cords that makes particular sounds, with a pitch and a timbre, a tone and a frequency. But is that all it is? Is it the expression of our unique style, whether spoken or written (or even […]
Plume Service Vol. 1: Sensual Perspectives of Time & Space
About a week ago, on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, fifteen people participated in the first ever Plume Service writing workshop, the first in a series of monthly writing experiences whose goal is to bring The Pfister’s paintings to life. We gathered on the mezzanine, with a view of the lobby below and an ear to the […]
Getting HAPPY at The Pfister: A Story of Loss and Recovery
Suggestion: Turn up the volume on your device, click play, and prepare to get happy! One of the many privileges of being human is that we experience emotions. While some might argue that other creatures express emotions, too, or that it’s not much of a privilege that we have to experience the painful ones, no […]
Kids Say the Darnedest Things…About My Head
Esme was taking care of some really important business as she stormed the Pfister to look at some art. You’d never say that she was in the way as she rushed around with her furiously important agenda, but you could say that she was somewhat underfoot. Real close to underfoot, as a matter of fact. […]