From Stepping Out: Nine Walks through New York’s Gay and Lesbian Past
by Daniel Hurewitz
In a [September 2003] lecture, Alfredo Jaar said he feels the work of art should not embed
within it the injustice but propose an alternative to that injustice. I approached this project
with that statement in mind: A book can be strong or fragile, tactile, moist. Fragrant like
leaves, paper, wood, stone -- or moldy. A book is an appendage that encircles when joined
by arms or fingers. In a pocket or bag, it is lightweight—a companion—or heavy as a valise.
For the desperate, a book can be a pillow, or fire. Text can be immeasurably deep, cellular.
Pages of text are similar but thinner than skin. Turned inside out, a book shows its skin; it is
a body of work.
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