New song, new video

By |2017-05-22T15:17:52+00:00May 22nd, 2017|Architecture, Art, Cities, Landscape, Music|

I just premiered this video in New York at 3A Gallery. I wrote the song, played guitar and sang it, and that’s Mike Overton on bass and Jay Anderson on drums. The video is shot in New York, Vancouver, and Toronto. The first half you may recognize the setting: Dan Graham’s rooftop work at the Met with landscape architect Günther Vogt.

Stay tuned for more music. We should be releasing a record this year.

April 30: Thorpe @ 3A Gallery

By |2017-04-22T19:21:52+00:00April 18th, 2017|Art, Events|

Willows and Palms: Josh Thorpe / Joe Beginner
Opening and Book Launch: Saturday, April 30, 3-6 p.m.

3A Gallery: April 30 to May 28, 20173A Gallery is pleased to present the work of Josh Thorpe, an itinerant Canadian artist, writer, experimental music composer, and rock musician.

Willows and Palms will be an informal presentation of several recent drawings and screenprints. The drawings are hasty and ham-fisted scribblings of nocturnal scenes in rich pastels, the screenprints more pristine representations of similar scenes in one or two strange colors.

“Some of Thorpe’s work reminds me of Saenredam’s paintings of empty churches,” Dan Graham said, “But it’s all about fantasy.”

As part of the exhibition, Thorpe will be introducing his latest piece of writing, Beginner’s Microbiome, published as alter-ego Joe Beginner. This semi-autobiographical novella is dedicated to the memory of New York writer Harry Mathews. Written in the form of a daily journal, the work is a tribute to the constant strangeness of daily life.

As described by Malcolm Sutton, fiction editor for Toronto’s BookThug press “Joe Beginner is a detective of the everyday, a genius of the senses.”


Note: 3A Gallery has been closed since the summer of 2016 due to the recent illness of Executive Producer Dan Graham. Dan is feeling much better, and we are happy to be back to work.

3A Gallery, 179 Canal Street, #3A, New York, NY 10013 / 212-219-7523 /

The author

By |2017-04-21T23:08:17+00:00April 3rd, 2014|Art, Writing|

The death of the author is a beautiful idea. Reading as the creative act. The idea of all one text. No beginning and no end. A shimmering field of moods and rhythms. A landscape of possible worlds. No knowledge. Just dreams. Energies. Topographies.

Still, the will to authorship remains. The will to originate ideas, novels, songs, speeches, and proclamations 144 characters long. There will always be authors, as long as we are praised as babies for producing shit and getting it in the acceptable bucket.


By |2017-04-21T23:30:25+00:00July 16th, 2013|Art, Writing|

At the pharmacy cash:

“You are reading that book?”


“It is a very sad book.”

“Very beautiful.”

“Yes, very beautiful and very sad…. Do you want a bag?”


“I will give you a bag, only because this is my favourite book.”

“I will put the book in the bag, so as to keep it safe.”

“Yes, good.”

“Good day.”

“Good day.”

The Clock

By |2017-04-22T19:14:20+00:00October 7th, 2012|Art|

Christian Marclay’s The Clock is a 24-hour film assembled from thousands of short clips of other films, each of which contains an image of (or reference to) the time, which reference corresponds exactly to the real time at the time of viewing. If you are in the theatre at 12:37, the film has an image of 12:37 or a reference to 12:37.

One has to appreciate the labour that must have gone into making the film, but that’s not what makes it interesting (laborious-process-as-product is an old conceptual art move that doesn’t guarantee good work). What makes The Clock interesting are its strange effects as a film, some of which I try to describe below:

  • Different times of the day are represented by different normative states and activities associated with that time of the day: At 14:58 dozens of children are waiting to get out of class; at 15:12 one child is sitting detention. At 16:30 someone is leaving work early, or sitting alone in an empty bar. A pleasure of confirmation and representation. (Interesting to note: not much in the way of science fiction, fantasy, or very old period pieces. These genres rely on their being readable as not-of-this-world.)
  • Representations of states and behaviours that do not correspond to our expectations are hilarious when abstracted from their context: Someone goes to bed in the afternoon, for example. I never realized how many of these anachronistic moments there are in cinema.
  • Because of the above, a narrative develops around the tracking of time and the very specific narrative device of attention to time.
  • But, surprisingly, though a certain anxiety does wind its way through The Clock, it turns out that attention to time can also be casual, lazy, meditative, bored, sleepy, ad hoc, random, and funny.
  • Watching the Clock is like being in two places at once. Cinematic time and “real time” convolve, so the space of the theatre and the space of the world also convolve. This is not just academic: It really feels as though the image and its apparatus turn weirdly transparent.
  • Outside of the intention of looking at a clock, outside of the particular time one finds it to be, there is a particular feel, a familiar mood, to the act itself.