Two Painters 2016

Desert Mob 2016

Scott Gardiner Palmer AP 2017

The National AGNSW 2017

Wayne Eager Eastgate 2017

Peter Maloney Lost Continent

Artist Talk Sheffer Gallery 2017

Artist Talk Sheffer Gallery 2018

I usually walked home due East on 8th Street from the Studio School between 5th and 6th Avenues, over Astor Place, and on down St Marks Place to Tompkins Square Park at Avenue A. Then headed North to 12th St before turning right and on East to #520. Apart from a period of regular returns to the studio sometime up to 3 times, to check for a left lit ciggie, which was never there, this was a regular daily routine.

This one day in July 1981 as I was walking down St Marks, I saw ahead of me crowds, barriers, trucks and large lighting rigs. I wandered up past and through the heads and crowds to see over the barriers to Mick and Keith being filmed as they left one of the stoops and wandered smiling and laughing due west on the south side of the street. They continued walking to where the barriers held back the observing crowds, me included. This occurred a few times as they tried further takes and progressively a small group of Latinos standing at the barriers started to shout protests about the goings on in Central America.

1981 and the 1st reports of the skulduggery of the United States in Central America and especially El Salvador and Nicaragua were being aired, especially on PBS. These reports were shocking to see and brought back memories of the horror we all felt at the nightly reports of the Vietnam War on Australian TV news. These reports were vigorously criticised by sections of the US Government. At one point Jeanne Kirkpatrick, the then Ambassador to the UN, openly criticised PBS for its disloyal stance and questioned continued funding of the service.

The verbal protests on St Marks intensified. And over a few further takes Mick and Keith walked closer and closer to the crowds standing at the barriers. Finally Keith came right up close and leaned over to one of the protestors and asked quite casually ‘I’ve got a Nicaraguan slave if you want to buy one?’ It silenced everybody, which I assume was the intention, but it left me cold and anxious as I finished my walk home in the fading light of that NY July evening.