2020
Jail Cell

“What one word describes incarceration for you?” 

The words lining this installation piece are responses to that question. Steven and William engaged with over 125 participants in five corrections facilities and hundreds more from the outside community to build these word blocks. We encourage you to think about this prompt and to write your word onto the wall behind you.

The summer of 2020, because of COVID, outside visitors were prohibited from entering correctional facilities, so we had to find a way to engage with those in custody without direct contact. Usually in our workshops, each participant makes a colorful scroll to keep and another as part of a collaborative piece. When we learned that they had access to colored pencils, we sent out packets that included a drawing of blank scrolls for inmates to color, so they were still able to create and keep their own work of art. We explained in the packet how we use art to tell stories and encouraged them to think of their own story as inspiration for their coloring, then to write that story in the space provided, and to sign and date their work.

And last, we asked them to send back anonymous responses to the prompt: “What one word describes incarceration for you?” We also collected responses from outside the prison, bringing inside and outside voices together. Walk inside Jail Cell, and you will be surrounded by those voices.

September 12- November 21, 2020

The Other Side reflects our experience as artists working with over 500 inmates at eight different New York City correctional facilities over a span of nine years. When it comes to incarceration, there is the “inside,” with inmates accused or convicted of crimes, and the “outside,” where the rest of us, guilty or not, live out our lives. We experience the inside with an outside perspective. Steven and William hope to bring a ray of light into the lives of the people inside these facilities.

Co-presented by The Invisible Dog Art Center, the French Institute Alliance Française (FIAF) and Cristina Grajales Gallery

METAL DETECTORS AND PATHWAY, 2020
Various Materials

Moving into the jail, our hands were stamped with invisible ink. Keys and phones were forbidden. Everything we brought for the workshop required advance clearance. We passed slowly through a series of air lock-like spaces where one door closed before the next could open. Metal detectors flanked passageways which had a dividing line down the center. Our escort and a guard kept us to one side, and guarded inmates moved along the other, looking away because meeting visitors’ eyes was forbidden.

Jail protocol was shocking at the beginning. Every movement through every space is controlled. But we learned the rules, including how to wait patiently, sometimes for most of the day for only two hours of actual engagement time with inmates. We handed out pamphlets to corrections officers when they asked what we were doing. We were always waiting—for clearance, for escorts, for an inmate we hoped would participate in our project but hadn’t agreed. We learned to respect each inmate’s space while still offering encouragement by extending multiple opportunities to join us. We invited the officers to join us too, and those sharing a good rapport with inmates often did.

SCROLLATHON PROMPT

Over 500 people, including over 125 inmates from five NYC jails, have provided one word to the question: What one word describes incarceration for you? It has prompted storytelling and reflection. We hope you will contribute your word here to be included. Please write your word on this wall.

CROWN STOOLS WHITE, GOLD AND BLACK, 2020
Wood, metal, fiber
LWD 12 ½ x 12 ½ x 18 ¼ inches

Our first time at GMDC, one of the ten jails on Rikers Island, we worked with 19 to 21 year-olds. They seemed like kids to us. At their housing unit, the inmates placed chairs normally around our work table; but for one particular inmate, they stacked them up, enabling him to sit  higher than the others. We learned that he was running the house—that he had the top rank in his unit. Because he wanted to participate in our project, the other inmates had his permission to join in. We found it fascinating how inmates used the chair as a way to demonstrate hierarchy and this inspired us to create a series of crown stools.

WATCHTOWER, 2020
Plywood structure upholstered in wool
LWD 135 ½ x 58 ½ x 119 inches

From the moment you arrive on Rikers Island you are confronted by powerful corrections officers ensconced in their imposing surveillance spaces. You encounter them again as you approach the jail complex. You stand outside and sort of wave to get their attention. They often take their time in acknowledging your presence. Every encounter is an opportunity for them to approve or deny your admittance. This process happens again once you are inside, and then again and again and again. By the time you finally reach the housing unit, you encounter a secured surveillance area where corrections officers keep watch over the lives of inmates and anyone else inside the jail. Observed constantly, we always tried to engage the officers whose job it was to be the eyes and ears monitoring these unpredictable spaces; the power to shut our project down or allow it to continue was always theirs. 

ISOLATION, 2020
Various Materials
LWD: 110 x 81 ½ x 103 ½ inches

On entering the jail, we emptied our pockets into a locker. A sign beside it read ‘Load and Unload Weapons in Red Sandbox.’ It was not a joke. 

Once when we arrived, there was a red light swiveling beyond the plexiglass barrier. The jail was on lock-down. There was no telling how long we would wait. Almost an hour later, our contact arrived and took us through an unfamiliar area. We passed a kind of holding cell—a 6 by 6 foot cage with a young inmate inside –and out escort asked him what he had done. He was the reason the entire jail had gone into lock-down, and we were on our way to his housing unit. 

HOUSING UNIT, 2020
Cedar Structure with Outdoor Cushions

A housing unit is an area within a jail that houses inmates. It has a living area where inmates sleep in either individual cells holding one or two inmates or in a barrack style sleeping area with cots filling the room. The common area is where inmates eat, watch TV, hang out, exercise, and participate in programmed events. It is also where we hold Scrollathon. We created this seating area as a kind of common area – a place to congregate and engage with others during the run of the exhibition.

Once while working at the all-women’s jail, Rosies, on Rikers Island, we were in the common area where an inmate told us that when she scrolled with us, she felt like a family. Then she gestured towards the living area. “But back there,” she said, “we’re enemies.” As we were leaving, one woman turned to William and said, “I’ll never forget you.”