In June 2025, I hosted Sunday School—a kind of home school for contemporary art and ideas. The whole thing was built around channeling potential rather than imposing form. There wasn’t a set schedule or detailed lesson plan. Classes had no fixed duration, and most of the time I relied on whatever I was thinking about that morning, or what unfolded in the previous week’s session, to orient us. It required a kind of blind faith—or maybe fearlessness—from the incredibly bold people who participated.

I chose Yoko Ono’s Grapefruit as our course text because it introduces major visual art forms in the most generous and psychedelic terms. I’ve often thought art history should be taught in reverse—starting with the contemporary moment and going back only as far as you’re still interested. That attitude shaped the way Sunday School evolved. I wanted it to feel like a full-on art school experience: intensive but accessible, equally welcoming to professional artists and curious people of any background.

Everyone was invited to teach. Steering the course was open to interpretation. I borrowed the Teach Anything model from Jorge Lucero, who uses it in his art education courses at the University of Illinois—it invites anyone to teach anything from their own field of expertise. Last year, Jorge and I talked about starting a Teach Anything school together, and Sunday School was my version of that idea—something borrowed, sculpted, mutated, and moved into testing position.

Each Sunday, a different group showed up. Our home was the headquarters, but sessions happened all over Cleveland. Sunday School can happen anywhere, anytime. It only asks that you show up with ideas and an openness to whatever unfolds. I really loved the fresh, electrified, and real feel of the whole thing.

hwēol is the word meaning wheel in Old English or Anglo-Saxon, the earliest historical form of the English language, spoken in the early Middle Ages.

more info HERE

“Jon Gott’s Foreign Correspondent is a journey both exotic and familiar, an exploration of travel, the meaning of home and the devestating beauty of everyday objects.” 

Through sculptural assemblages and found-object vignettes, Gott constructs a fictional island whose ecology, artifacts, and cultural narratives blur the boundary between the seen and the unseen, the foreign and the familiar. The result is a sensitive interrogation of how we carry places within us—and how we package their essence for consumption. 
- Emily Farranto

Clay is land, digging is a way of traveling through time, the clay from underground being a reminder of the geological record of the earth and a cosmic passage of time as observable through the layers of land. By the way, digging is a behavior shared by humans, plants, and animals alike. Remembrance, also a form of traveling through time, relies on digging through your mind to salvage memories from within yourself. There's mental work in which these memories become images that can be described and shared. The handwork of forming an animal to make a physical surrogate of these memories to both encounter ourselves and share with others the feelings we associate with them. Forging a meaningful connection between the physical and mental spaces we occupy in daily life.

This project was originally conceived as a way of sharing personal memory and observance of the power of human and animal bonds and forming a communal memorial generated through this sharing. Intended to memorialize the special, beloved pets of each individual participant, and also to commemorate the forming of human bonds and connections. I’m designing this particular presentation of the program to extend to the idea of human and animal interaction in practice and how that may be articulated through image, language, and personal memory.

For the past six years, one of us has always rushed home to spend the last few minutes of Valentine’s Day together. This year, it was my turn. Barely making it in time, I arrived home to a fully hung painting show – a collection meticulously crafted by Jon, mapping the memories and changes of our time together. I am proud to curate from this deeply personal collection and present: “If you receive a love letter from me you are fucked forever.”

This exhibition offers a glimpse into the most intimate moments and memories of our complex and multifaceted relationship. With an act of vulnerability, these works are displayed within the intimate and private spaces of our home. Originating from the first house we shared together in Lakewood, Ohio, these paintings have been years in the making.

– Gabrielle Banzhaf

30 seconds over earth.

Closed Sundays
2017-2022
Cardboard, found material, diazo dye, ink, stickers, spray paint enamel over wooden support
96” inches x 72” inches

Vestiges - from the French vestige meaning a mark, trace, or sign, from the Latin vestigium meaning footprint or trace. I started this project by harvesting snails from Jacob’s aquariums and bringing them to live in my studio. Imagining them as my ancestors- time traveling mystics to behold secrets and mysteries of past and future. Through our friendship, I could bear witness to their universe, listen to their voices, and learn their songs. With this work, I’ve been thinking about the recent deaths of my father, and Sheila, our beloved German Shorthaired Pointer.

Located in the historic French Quarter at 1000 Bourbon Street Box 322 is an access junction to the circuitry of the city of New Orleans, and to the global interchange of its postal and commerce systems.

French Quarter Postal engages the input and output of correspondence towards the circulation of information and knowledge between places and peoples.