The art of Kevin Blythe Sampson

THE ART OF
KEVIN BLYTHE SAMPSON

7/28/09

Kevin speaks about Dash Snow memorial information enclosed

kevin says: about Dash

mcdaniel

 

Hey look

so many of my young students idolized this guy

they turned me onto him, he was talented thats for sure

genius maybe

but look i live in newark

where their are lots and lots of junkies

so excuse me if i cant get too broken hearted

over another young man dying from drugs and more

this young man came from one of the wealthiets and most connected families around

so i am sure he didnt have too much trouble

buying drugs

i told my students

something i learned from My Uncle randall

its about transendence

over coming obsticles

over coming your back ground to move on and up

its about helping others

and most of all not wasting your God given talents

on nonsense

this guy

was a hero to many of my students

and his obligation should have been

to his work to them

and more

instead

ok let me stop here

i admire the guys spirit

but to be honest this kids of rebelion is a white boy thing

sorry

Their are to many people who transend their circumstances

you dont rise about things by destroying yourself

if this is the high point of rebellion

then ill gladly sell out

its about about priveledge in my humble opinon

and the misuse of it

i met people in jamaca who made art

because they had too

who rose about their poverty to offer

great art work and inspiration

through their endurance

acceptance

and vison

so sorry Dash

a young wasted life

its a shame

and to my students

if you are thinking that by destroying yourself

to make art

or to be authentic

think about

nothing noble about dying for no reason

nothing at all

 

Dash Snow, A Memorial

By Cheryl Dunn  07/23/2009 08:52 AM


Dash Snow and Barrt McGee at The Street Market Show, 2000.
Photo by Cheryl Dunn

What is a memorial but a meager attempt to remember a life? I remember life through images. Sometimes if I have an image it relieves me that I have captured something, time, a person. Sometimes it doesn't really matter. After hearing Dash had died, in utter grief and hoping to console, I told his brother Max that I had a lot of film and photos of him and he replied, "That's nice but I just want him back." I felt stupid as if that would change anything. but we all try whatever we can to change  the circumstances of a tragic death of a loved one particularly a young and magical one. Dash was truly a shining light, an electric force that drew people to him from the first moment you met him.

Launch Mediaplayer »

Dash embodied New York. He was fearless, and he participated to the fullest extent in all of the extremes of this town. It's a town designed to break people—that's what makes it worth living in. He was perfectly suited for a town like this: He was a child, always eager to show you his Polaroids or talk about a great photo book that he had discovered. He was always the first one to introduce himself in a crowd of strangers. He defied all authority and risked everything to be true to his spirit, whether it was writing "Fuck Giuliani" in massive letters on the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge, to his departure from this earth. But Dash was like a tiger cub, lovable yet wild in every sense. One night at The Hole, a dingy bar on 2nd Avenue where we used to hang out, he came running back into the bar all bloody and smiling and said, "Take my picture. I just got punched in the face."
I met Dash in 2000, while documenting The Street Market Show at Deitch Projects. He came in to hang out and help Barry McGee, Stephen Powers, and Todd James paint. Immediately, he was like a little brother. He was so amped about everything. He took no time showing me a huge stack of Polaroids of his debaucheries. A year later I curated him in his first show there. 
We made a film together for that show. We shot an interview in C Squat [a squat near Avenue C]. He stood on some wood boards in a floorless room while I shot up at him in a damp, rat-filled basement . We shot in his apartment on Avenue C, where every inch of the walls was tagged and covered with post headlines, photos, anything and everything. He took me to a sweatshop building in Chinatown that had a broken front door and was tagged to shit. He tagged almost every step on the way to the roof and did a large throw up (in graffiti terms a large, quickly executed, tag). As he stood on the ledge smoking I took a picture of him, only to discover later that there was a shooting star in the sky right behind his head.
Dash was effervescent. He didn't have a phone, or use e-mail. You couldn't really find Dash unless you went out in front of his Bowery studio and howled, or happened upon him. Later, you could spot him walking his baby, Secret, around the neighborhood. The last I saw him was at my house on the Fourth of July. He was brimming with questions of movie cameras and film stock. He held his daughter, then went off into the night. 
The morning I heard the news I couldn't work, and I couldn't be alone. I rode my bike to Lafayette and Kenmare. For those who remember, what's now the relatively fancy Mexican restaurant La Esquina used to be this nasty burger joint. I hung there with him some times. I was compelled to go there thinking everyone I saw would be weeping on the street. I stayed out all night meeting up with mutual friends, holding each other, just being together. As I rode home at 7 AM, the light was beautiful and the air was peaceful. Dash knew this was the best time of day and I know his spirit was lurking out there after a long New York night.
Graffiti legend is like folklore. There's no evidence, but it's omni-present. It's about getting over and not getting caught, leaving traces but being invisible. These are my memories, for whatever it is worth. Whether filled with facts or perceptions or just plain feelings, they are stories and stores make up a life. He had enough stories for three lifetimes.

Cheryl Dunn is a New York-based photographer. Deitch Projects is currently showing a tribute to Dash Snow, at its
76 Grand Street gallery location.

Tags: Cheryl Dunn, C Squat, graffiti, Barry mcGee, Deitch Projects

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