The first time I saw Olek, she was sitting behind the desk of the Christopher Henry Gallery at the exhibition of her crochet art, called “Knitting is for Pus****.” She was wearing her crochet clothing and glasses, crocheting a piece of a bicycle cover. Are you noticing a trend here? Crochet is Olek’s world, or, more accurately, Olek’s world is crochet. This exhibition gave a bit of insight into the world that I unexpectedly became a part of.
Yes, all her work is done by hand. And no, she doesn’t have a crew of people working for her.
The first floor of the Christopher Henry Gallery space features an entire room of crochet-covered objects. Inside you will find clothing, appliances and even some funny and raunchy crocheted text message banners lining the space. The second floor is a showcase of her collaborative pieces, which incorporate other media such as photos, video and more abstract sculptural work.
The second floor also includes a table full of publications about her past work. While rummaging through these, I discovered that she had utilized the subway as a venue for performances in the past. I asked if she had anything similar planned for the future. Her response: “No, but you can put on one of my suits and I can take photos of you in the subway?you have a good body for it. Are you available tomorrow?” It took me a minute to process what she was saying, but when it finally sank in, I accepted her offer.
I showed up at the gallery the next afternoon with my iPad and a copy of the graffiti book “Subway Art” to use as props, if Olek allowed it. I had no clue what the rules were, but they turned out to be along the lines of what I was imagining: no talking, no exaggerated posing for photos and do not get too close to her. Otherwise, behave normally.
After several minutes of deliberation, I chose a green, orange, black and brown camouflage suit (right out of the room in the gallery where it was on display). It came in two pieces: one for the body and one for the head. I was a bit confused about how the pieces would attach because I didn’t see any hooks, zippers or Velcro, but it quickly became clear that I was going to be crocheted into the suit. It covered my entire body—including my feet—which I put my shoes over. This felt like the first act of our performance, but only I was around to experience it. Continue reading “The World of Olek”