I think James Casebere is stalking me.

That’s my house in “Landscape with House (Dutchess County, NY) #8.” Sure, my house isn’t in New York — it’s in Fargo — but he isn’t fooling me with that title.

James Casebere, Landscape with Houses (Dutchess County, NY) #8, 2010. Framed digital chromogenic print mounted to Dibond paper: 69 3/4 x 86 1/4 inches.

See it? It’s the house in the foreground, all by its lonesome on the street with driveways to nowhere. It’s the only house without window shades; the one without pigment that’s fenced in by hedges.

Look.  My house cowers below the looming houses on the hill; those big colorful houses with above ground pools, TV antennae, and playgrounds. And above them, a stately blue house presides at the top of the hill. Me, I’m at the bottom — colorless — watching the sun set behind the other houses, blocked from a forest of color by my betters. It’s rather sad – this exploitation of my life and house for art.

But wait!

Take another look: See how there are no driveways visible at the bigger houses, how their curtains keep them insulated, how their pools, barbecue sets, and TVs keep them tethered to their homes?

I have mobility. My home has the only vehicle in sight in this unpeopled world. I have a bike. I have a house that spills onto the sidewalk, connected to a road that leads to the great unknown. I moved to the Twin Cities from Fargo to escape this life — to become something more than the value of my house size — to connect to culture by going to events like the Lifelike exhibition at the Walker Art Center.

But then I turn a corner in the gallery and James Casebere is shoving my old life right back in my face. And I nearly trip over a bronze sleeping bag as I back away.

About the author: Joel Hagen is a freelance writer living in the Twin Cities. His web portfolio is at www.mrjoelhagen.com.

______________________________________________________

Viewfinder posts are your opportunity to “show & tell” about the everyday arts happenings, interesting sights and sounds made or as seen by Minnesota artists, because art is where you find it.  Submit your own informal, first-person responses to the art around you to katie(at)mnartists.org, and we may well publish your piece here on the blog. (Guidelines: 300 words or less, not about your own event/work, and please include an image, media, video, or audio file, and one sentence about yourself.)