Meet the Artist: Depoe

About Depoe

Born Miami, Florida in 1978. Self taught artist who started painting at a very young age after being inspired by his mother's drawings and paintings. He would stare at them for hours when he wasn't even tall enough to reach the frames; not wanting to move from their sight. Some of his earliest memories include finger painting in his Abuela's kitchen at her house in Hialeah.

Influenced heavily early on by gang handwriting from Latin Kings, Folk Nation, and KOP among others found throughout his neighborhood. Moved to the Beach during his last term of junior high school and saw Spraycan Art for the first time. Realized the true potential of painting and began to take his own art seriously. Moved to New York in the fall of 2004 after visiting monthly for almost five years. Continues to pursue his degree in Fine Arts and plans to complete an MFA.

About Pia & Depoe

Every time I think about "Depoe" (I know his real name) as a person, I am grateful that I know such a talented artist. He is thoughtful and truly wants to create art that will stir the soul. I know that to some extent, all of us want to do the same as artists, but I think Depoe really pulls it off. I am so proud that he is using this space to show off some of the work he did at Art Basel. Thank you!

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Meet the Artist: Depoe

Free the Angola 3!

The Angola 3 are three men in Louisiana falsely accused of murder. Two of the men, Albert Woodfox and Herman Wallace, have spent more than 35 years in solitary confinement and remain there today. That's shocking isn't it? In America. Human beings treated worse than cattle. There are prized pigs that are given the freedom to roam.

Their cause is supported by Amnesty International, which declared that overwhelming evidence shows that the men were framed because of their political beliefs (they were Black Panthers) and because they were organizing fellow inmates to resist participating in the sexual slavery rings that dominated the prison at the time, and to demand better conditions and the desegregation of the "world's bloodiest prison."

No physical evidence against the men exists, and they were convicted based on inmate testimony, none of which is consistent or in many cases remotely plausible (one 'eye-witness' was legally blind). All of the inmates who testified were rewarded with cigarettes for life, shorter sentences, and in one case, a pardon.

Woodfox and Wallace are battling for the opportunity to present evidence of their innocence in court. Attorneys representing all three men (including Robert Woodfox, who proved his innocence in 2001) have filed suit against the state of Louisiana claiming denial of their constitutional rights to due process and against cruel and unusual punishment.

Attorneys and investigators cost money, and these men need a vigorous defense to have any chance against the entrenched criminal justice system, especially in Louisiana. Please consider helping and spreading the word?

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Free the Angola 3!

Armitage Gone! Dance

I went to see Armitage Gone! Dance's Connoisseurs of Chaos last night. And I'll say up front that it was fantastic.

Connoisseurs of Chaos is the third and final episode of The Dream Trilogy that Artistic Director and choreographer Karole Armitage began in 2004. I didn't see the other parts of the trilogy, but after seeing this one last night, I wish I had seen the others. The choreography was innovative and sublime — so easily mixing soft, sexy movement with hard, precise jerks. It was all so beautiful to watch that the hour running time seemed to go by much more quickly than normal.

The troupe was also wonderful. The entire lot of them. But the standouts for me (in no particular order) were: Megumi Eda, William Issac, and Frances Chiaverni.  While all the dancers were graceful and strong, Eda, Issac, and Chiaverni were doubly so and had such commanding presences.  A special shout-out to Eda's hair stylist.  Her bob becomes a part of her movement, almost as if each strand has a muscle of its own that is perfectly under her control, swinging in unison.  Chiaverni's body is elegant, and she uses it so beautifully.  She was captivating.  Isaac has a stage presence that he owes more to his charisma and skill as a performer than to his physical size.  And coming from a family with big men, Isaac's ability to disappear or blend in is as impressive as his talent.

All in all, I recommend people go see this show as soon as possible.

-- Pia Wilson

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Armitage Gone! Dance

Dressed in Your Dreams by Pia Wilson

When we were alone together, Dinesh would let me paint halos around his eyes with kohl shadow and coat his nails with black polish. I would then line my own full lips with crimson pencil, fill them in with a matching lipstick, and mark his olive skin with my kisses.

If I got him drunk enough, he would consent to a few Polaroid pictures taken of him in this state. If he was not drunk enough, I’d make love to him and wait until he was sleeping to take my photos. I stashed them in a box, underneath my grandmother’s diaries.

I waited until Dinesh and I were in the seventh month of our relationship to introduce the skirt. It was a black, beaded wraparound made in Taiwan. I had gotten it in a Chinatown boutique, discounted at twenty percent. I thought it had the look of an eel’s skin as it swims in moonlight.

Please read the rest of the story at summersetreview.org!

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Dressed in Your Dreams by Pia Wilson

NOLA '07

I went to New Orleans last year to visit some non-profits working there in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and FEMA. There are parts in NOLA that look like the hurricane hit just the day before. I added the picture of the man on a bicycle for juxtaposition.

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NOLA '07

Unsalted Swain by Pia Wilson

There was gas coming out of the pilot. Ricky could smell it. He twisted the knob on the stove. Click, click. No light, and Ricky wanted his bacon. There were long matches in the dining room, but he didn't want to hobble back there. His ankle was stiff from the coming rain. He'd warned his wife to leave the matches by the stove. Ricky banged the heavy pan against the burner. That's how people think he got burned.

It wasn't. He'd had his thick bacon and sludge coffee. He'd gone out and pulled down an old tree for winter wood. He'd had a good lunch: a juicy hunk of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. His favorite. May, the woman he should have married, fixed it special. Then, he'd slept with her on her perfumed sheets. She was a lady. He hadn't thought highly of that when they were young. He did now. When Ricky came home, he'd had such a good day that when he grumbled about that the misplaced matches, he didn't even raise his hand for a slap. His wife had been making a venison stew. That's where Ricky got the burns on his hands that tattered his forearm. She'd thrown the boiling gruel, saying she'd take anything but a cheating man. Ricky had known that, and so he didn't choke her when he could use his hands again. He put honey on his skin to heal the burns, like the Indian shaman had showed him. It worked pretty good. Still, May cried when she looked over them, and Ricky couldn't see her any more, not if she was going to salt his life with tears. He liked things simple.

When people asked him about the burns, Ricky would say, "There was gas coming out of the pilot ..."

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Unsalted Swain by Pia Wilson

The Thing Is ...

the print version of Pia Quarterly won't hit the streets until 2009! But don't worry, you'll get to see plenty of material on this site! Keep checking in to see the latest and the greatest.

Thanks,
Pia the Publisher

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The Thing Is ...