Monday, October 31, 2011

In 1979 I went to Denmark to study.
Being inquisitive, I was often out-and-about: seen here in my host's Simca.

Today, 32 years later, I'm back:
Celebrating my Birthday; staying with the friends who tolerate me every year for a week or so--if nothing else, they like my cooking; spending time with new friends that I have met over the years; even enjoying a little romance with someone very special.

I'll be back in New York on the 10th of November to attend the benefit for the new Leslie-Lohman Museum of Gay Art; I will gift some of m y work for the auction; and I will definately have a little romance with someone who loves me as I am. Yes, Georgie back in 'da Big Apple'. Something Everyday!

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

"Untitled", Xerographs #1, 2011.


Collecting documents as I go--this

collection

from the 90's,--I'm interested in sharing

my personal experiences as part of a

greater discussion

of cultural values and boundaries. This has always

required a certain amount of risk taking

involving personal and interpersonal decisions about

self-disclosure, confidentiality, and trust. I always consider it a blessing

when others agree to collaborate.

georgie


Wednesday, March 16, 2011

By A&U | March 7th, 2011 Photographer George Dinhaupt Explores the Beauty and Importance of Human Diversity by Brent Calderwood.

Born in Los Angeles, George Dinhaupt has been exhibiting his portrait photography since the early 1990s. Formerly a truck driver by profession, Dinhaupt dusted off his old camera in 1991 after he was sidelined by a car accident; a year later, his work was part of a show in Southern California.

Dinhaupt refers to much of his work as “honorific portraiture,” which originally referred to the large-scale iconography of pharaohs and Caesars; Dinhaupt repurposes the ancient tradition to depict people with HIV, men of color, and a wide array of bodies and body types.
In the second century, muscular busts of the aging Hadrian sent one kind of political message; in the second millennium, a very different political message is conveyed by Dinhaupt’s honorific portrait of a subject he refers to as “Saint Felippe,” which hangs in the permanent collection at the Leslie-Lohman Gallery in New York City. Nude and attached to an IV, the subject’s unmistakable ease and mirth subvert ideas about illness and honorability. In Dinhaupt’s deft hands, seeming opposites like ease and disease, levity and gravitas, feel integrated and natural.

Dinhaupt’s influences are as diverse as his subjects and styles. His black-and-white studio portraits, as in his “With Us” series, are redolent of Robert Mapplethorpe, while much of his more recent work, utilizing natural light and candid settings like roadside diners, point to the snapshot and documentary aesthetics of Nan Goldin and Catherine Opie.


Sunday, February 27, 2011

I received this with interest and some confusion, sus-picion, over-reaction, and everything that goes along with an awarness of and sensitivity toward negation. . .

Saturday, February 12, 2011

"Works on Paper" at Colonial House Inn.





The works are installed and the opening on Friday afternoon was a success. The show, featuring Tai Lin and Myself coincides with the College Art Association conference in NYC. Tai is showing examples of his Pastel on Black Paper and I am featuring this image from my Zine project--a contribution to Zine created by Robert Summers.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Snow, like tables where we sit with friends to share a meal, different cities, towns, bus-stops and train stations, can become too foreign as we type our history, atttributes and desires, day after day, into our "sophisticated" desktop "enviornments of outreach and hope. Job searchin-networkin . . .

Snow, the great leveler, a common thing: shared; experienced, but never reviled, it unifies souls.

For the two weeks I was in Denmark for the Holiday: Snow; snow and cold; snow, cold and slippin--fallin down everyday. Great!

In short, I slowed myself down, enjoyed other's time and pace and experience--Got Snowed.