What You're Looking At...
5:55 in the morning, July 1st, 2015. Aquatic Park, San Francisco. Nobody is awake who doesn’t have to be. The tall ships are sitting in the harbor like beautiful mistakes that refused to rot, the industrial waterfront is doing its ugly gorgeous thing behind them, and the sun is barely bothering to show up. And there, out on a spit of wet rocks at the edge of the Bay, a figure, Val Sinkler, in white with arms thrown back like she’s daring the sky to answer, speaking words that Euripides wrote for a play that got eaten by time.
An unattributed fragment. A few lines that survived the bonfires and the neglect and the monks who scraped the parchment clean, and here they are, twenty five centuries later, being hurled across the water at a audience of herons who couldn’t care less and a city that’s still sleeping.
I call it No Man’s Friend. And looking at this image, that figure alone on the rocks between the black water and the pale sky, you understand the title isn’t just about the fragment. It’s about the act itself. The willingness to stand at the edge of something at an hour when sane people are in bed and give voice to words the world tried its best to forget. That’s not theater. That’s a kind of beautiful, necessary stubbornness that borders on religion.
This is part of IOTA, an ongoing project that drags the surviving fragments of the lost plays of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides out of the archives and into the real world, where they belong. Every print sold goes directly back into producing the next fragment. You buy this, you keep the whole thing alive.
Signed limited edition. 11″ x 17″, run of 25. Image approximately 10″ x 16″, stamped on verso. Printed on Hahnemühle fibre based Matt paper, because if you’re going to resurrect the dead, you don’t do it on shit stock.
Edition of 10. You know the price.
