I'm standing at the foot of a six story staircase in an old warehouse in Catskill. Ambient music plays from speakers mounted on the walls, and there are plants hanging from the ceiling. Panels with digital screens display vibrating wave forms.
"All these sculptures are essentially sensing sound audio pieces, so there's custom sensors in each of these that essentially sense the electricity in plants. They're capacitor sensors, and those signals are then translated into audio and visualizations," Lauren Pedrosa tells me. She created this installation with her sister, Isabel. "Transformation is something that I've always really been interested in, as well as hidden systems. So that's something that's super interesting about this project to me, is kind of the hidden world of plants, and how they are sensing their environment as the light conditions change. As people pass through this, the plants are sensing that, and that also reacts to the audio, so it really is something that, as people move through it, they're also shaping the environment and the atmosphere."
"So, am I right that it's only going to sound the way it sounds in that particular moment that you pass through it as an audience member?" I ask.
Lauren nods. "And on that particular day," she adds. "If it's a cloudy day or a sunny day, or humidity changes, any atmospheric change is going to affect the sound."
The Pedrosa's installation is part of the Upstate Art Weekend program at Foreland - that's the name of the warehouse I'm visiting. It was repurposed a few years ago as a group of artist studios, galleries, and offices. On Saturday, the artists in the building will have their doors open for people to wander in and explore.
Ariana Carrera is a sculptor. There's a four post bed frame in her studio with filmy blue fabric draped over top of it. "Eventually, this will be a canopy that has a sound element," she says. "Metallic chimes." Carrera makes what she calls "work for the home," frequently working with ceramics and wood. "We're living in a mass manufactured world, so the more handmade and narrative-based objects can be put in those environments, the more engaged people will be with themselves and their relationships."
Carrera is looking forward to the Open Studios event, though she's a bit apprehensive. "I think it's a little vulnerable because it's so much work in progress, right? But it's also an amazing opportunity to talk about what motivates the art making and see it at different phases."
"I'm one of those Hudson Valley artists where I'm in a moon circle that my friend is the high priestess for," says Emily Coan, a painter with a studio at Foreland. "Like, we're out in the woods doing witchcraft. I paint women in the Hudson Valley."
Emily shows me one of her paintings. It's a lush green forest. A group of women, one nude, others in their underwear, are having a picnic. Emily says not everyone gets her work. "I think the female figure in general is controversial, and people having fun is also controversial."
Emily also has mixed feelings about letting visitors into her studio. It's a very intimate space. She's got it set up like a living room. There's a couch and a sunlit table with a journal and a pen. "I don't really share my studio very often. I do want the community to connect with my work, and I do think it's important for artists to show their work. But as far as a normal studio week, I don't really have visitors. It's kind of draining, and I do sort of have to keep my own vibe in here. I think David Lynch said that you need four hours of doing nothing to get one hour of good painting, and I agree with that. For some reason, I can't get started before 3pm. So I get here, I have my lunch, I do meditation, I usually pull a tarot card. I'm just like sitting around a lot. And then I mix a palette for like an hour, then I sit for another 30 minutes, and then I start painting.
"I like things that make people stop and invite reflection and zoning out, and a sense of whimsy," says Dan Schwartz, a stained glass artist. He makes window-sized works - landscapes with mysterious creatures painted into them. There are sasquatches and ghostly birds.
"Staying glass is a really slow, very slow media," Schwartz tells me. "You just bask in some light and daydream.
