I wanted to be able to talk to the guys behind the counter of Barr Lumber about that bitchin' cockroach performance by Pentti Monkkonen the same way that I heard them talking about dirt biking or the playoffs--only HDTS would be their home team and our event would be their playoffs.
Well, it isn't quite like that, though I admit that in a perfect world HDTS could set a precedent for another kind of institution that would acquire and archive long-term, site-specific, experimental works and maintain them in the context for which they were created.
In the last five years I have continued to purchase land (usually at tax sales), which I then turn over to the larger HDTS endeavor.
But apart from the three hundred brutal days, there are about sixty-five days a year when the weather is perfect, and by using our clairvoyant abilities we always manage to hold the HDTS events on one of those perfect days (not
The first HDTS was in October, and we set up an outdoor screening room in Pioneertown.
Initially she started out by making the HDTS publications (zine style), but she quickly became more involved with each event.
He shakes our hands in greeting, gives us a map to the sites, and sells us the HDTS catalogue while his friend stands nearby, looking at us and laughing mirthlessly but uncontrollably in the staccato rhythm of a machine gun.
Leaving Site One rather hastily, we drive out past Shear Illusions--the penchant for puns for hairsalon names is apparently a nationwide phenomenon--and, following the HDTS map, turn left at Old Woman Springs Road and head north toward Victorville.
HDTS seems more off-the-grid than most installation art and more of a total experience than most environmental art.
Purifoy's outside(r)(ish) work and his commitment to the desert (and to junk) as a life project probably best embodies the HDTS "mission" to resist the snares of the art world.
In the end, what HDTS does best is not to open a utopian space of unfettered creativity liberated from this matrix but to allow interesting ("insider") art and the (Real) desert to reframe one another, in all of their ambition and compromise, astounding beauty and pitiful degradation.