Corvus Ilium
As we move through the world, it is psychologically satisfying to view ourselves as the origin or source of our own experience. If a particular phenomenon we perceive as being ‘exterior’ does not satiate some component of our inner life, then it is deemed irrelevant or, potentially worse, ignored all together. We may take the time to “smell the roses,” but often that experience is not given consideration as being in relationship to what precedes or follows it. Certainly that experience is not granted permission, in the moment, to be definitive of the person having it. We are masters of decontextualization and compartmentalization, separating the seemingly random occurrences and little moments that continuously dot our lives from the egocentric views of ourselves. Yet if those moments were truly separate or absent, our experience, as a whole, would not be the same.
In an effort to consider a more inclusive experiential context, we have chosen to examine the annual migration of crows to Troy and the larger the Capital Region. Though the crows are an ever-present yet seemingly mundane part of Troy life from November through March, their significance and symbolism far surpasses this little city; crows play an integral role in the stories, myths, traditions of many culture. They are good omens, bad omens, gods, ancestors, messengers, a nuisance, intelligent, playful, graceful-- depending on your experience with them. They are one small aspect of life here in Troy, and while they might be perceived as one of these exterior, peripheral occurrences, they help form our daily experience as they roost here every winter, making their way from Oakwood cemetery to Green Island and back ever day near dusk and dawn. Although we might not give it much thought initially, it seems everyone has a story to tell about the crows. As residents, we continue to acknowledge the crows, talk about the crows, watch the crows, listen to the crows, complain about the crows, admire the crows. And we should.
This participatory installation allows the viewers to contemplate the existence of these moments, however inferior they may seem. Viewers are encouraged to move through the space and trace the changing projections of crows on the surrounding walls--the tracing itself an outline that suggests both the presence and absence of the bird. As we watch and listen to and draw these crows, we take a moment to identify a seemingly small part of life and contemplate its presence and absence.
Check out our cover story in the Times Union Preview about the project.
In an effort to consider a more inclusive experiential context, we have chosen to examine the annual migration of crows to Troy and the larger the Capital Region. Though the crows are an ever-present yet seemingly mundane part of Troy life from November through March, their significance and symbolism far surpasses this little city; crows play an integral role in the stories, myths, traditions of many culture. They are good omens, bad omens, gods, ancestors, messengers, a nuisance, intelligent, playful, graceful-- depending on your experience with them. They are one small aspect of life here in Troy, and while they might be perceived as one of these exterior, peripheral occurrences, they help form our daily experience as they roost here every winter, making their way from Oakwood cemetery to Green Island and back ever day near dusk and dawn. Although we might not give it much thought initially, it seems everyone has a story to tell about the crows. As residents, we continue to acknowledge the crows, talk about the crows, watch the crows, listen to the crows, complain about the crows, admire the crows. And we should.
This participatory installation allows the viewers to contemplate the existence of these moments, however inferior they may seem. Viewers are encouraged to move through the space and trace the changing projections of crows on the surrounding walls--the tracing itself an outline that suggests both the presence and absence of the bird. As we watch and listen to and draw these crows, we take a moment to identify a seemingly small part of life and contemplate its presence and absence.
Check out our cover story in the Times Union Preview about the project.
