For my part, I spent time reading letters, diaries, writ-
ings from the Robinson family, texts from 19th century
newspapers, abolitionist literature and speeches, and
student teacher guides to the museum. After making
selections of the key pieces of text I wanted to include,
I spent the next few days kneeling on the concrete
floor of Steve’s studio with a handful of archival pens,
inscribing the words from over the course of Rokeby’s
history into the piece. If I made a mistake, I crossed it
out and continued, and in this way felt I had made my-
self a bit more visible as well.
In the resulting work one engages with it very differ-
ently depending on how far away one is standing. En-
tering the room, one sees an imaginary landscape, one
that has been comprised of many different scenes of
the homestead, reconfigured and reinterpreted. Upon
closer inspection, the viewer comes to realize there are
also handwritten words, and the process becomes one
now of reading, as well as looking. The experience
seems to me as if one were watching a silent film, only
to have a soundtrack suddenly turn on. In the show
catalogue, Kadour has this to say about the end result:
“Monumental in scale, rich with detail, the photograph
encourages the viewer to pause and look slowly and
consider the past and what it means to the present.
Great art demands that we slow down and look and
ponder, three things contemporary life rarely allows us
to do.”
At this scale, it is perhaps impossible to recreate the ex-
perience of the artwork, without being in front of it, in
person. But perhaps that’s as it should be. Just like the
site of Rokeby itself, if you want to get the full effect, it’s
best if you just stop by and look around.
Rokeby Museum
(802)-877-3406 rokeby.org
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