Bonus edition greetings, collectors. I am both exhausted and aglow from last night's festivities. The show came together beautifully, with admirers just flocking to the opening, craning their necks to take in all the avian goodness.

As I poetically foreshadowed yesterday, today's edition is the delicate and delightful Bird's Nest by talented photographer (and master printer) Keith Taylor. Our 20x200 edition is an archival pigment print based on an original hand-printed photogravure that's in the Ornithology exhibition.

Keith is an amazing craftsman, specializing in these increasingly rare and labor-intensive processes. He's generous with his talents too - he teaches these techniques and also prints for many amazing photographers, including our own Beth Dow. He created the amazing platinum palladium prints for her Fieldwork exhibition at the gallery last Fall, which included Bags, one of our earliest 20x200 editions.

When announcing Beth's edition, I described what gorgeous, precious and increasingly rare objects these prints are. And then, as now, one of the biggest thrills about 20x200 for me is being able to offer a beautiful yet affordable reproduction to a larger audience of collectors.

And offered it is, but you'd better move quick. We've had a busy week here at 20x200; editions are moving faster than ever, breaking hearts the world over. Tuesday's Carrie Marill edition was gone in minutes flat — curatorial assistant Sarah didn't even have a chance to snap one up in time.

Of course, Sarah is one busy woman - her days are filled with sorting out the logistics of future editions, which is good news for everyone. We're all hard at work, planning ever more art for your growing collections. In fact, we've got at least two more great pieces headed your way next week, I'll be back on Tuesday with the first treat of the week.

See you then!

Greetings collectors, old and new
In NYC, looking for something to do?

Tonight's the night for Ornithology
Featuring photos and pictures, the highest of quality

Familiar as you are with my avian tastes
You're bound to enjoy all these birds in their place

And, as promised, for collectors further afield
We've got related editions here as part of the deal

Today's a new photo from Teunissen (Bert)
An edition you can own without losing your shirt

I'm happy to present you Saugnac et Muret #1, 27/12/2005 11:27
(A second print from Bert? It's like manna from heaven.)

Fair warning to you, collectors beloved
Since when editions sell out, you often feel horrid

In the morrow, search the Inbox with your eagle eyes,
Which will find nested there a 20x200 surprise.

And now I will bid you a most fond adieu
On this day, more than others, there's so much to do.

Greetings collectors, on this unbelievably gorgeous New York City day. I'm sitting in the gallery where many a bird has come to roost for Ornithology, which opens tomorrow at 6pm. That all these birds are currently roosting on the floor rather than the walls is cause for some concern, but my guess is that the place will be transformed by no later than 5:55pm tomorrow. So, no worries!

Like I said last week, Ornithology's presence will be felt here on 20x200 for the duration of the exhibition. The reverse is true too — we've got several 20x200 originals in the exhibition, including original paintings by Echo Eggebrecht, Laura Levine and Christina Muraczewski, plus exclusive photography editions from the likes of Bert Teunissen and Luke Stephenson. It's good stuff, I tell ya!

I'm pretty sure that I'm speaking into the void at this stage, because you've probably clicked off to snap up today's edition, A Dream World Glimmers in the Background of the Soul by the insanely talented Carrie Marill. The even-more-stunning-in-person painting is just about to go up on the wall here, and a detail of it is the image on the postcard for the show, so it seemed a fitting edition with which to get this party started. Right? Right.

Speaking of parties, the install party awaits my input, so I am taking off till tomorrow, when I'll be back with this week's photography edition. I look forward to typing to all of you then.

Wednesday greetings, collectors. School's out for the summer in lots of places, and about to be in others. I'm pretty sure that the NYC public schools are powering through next week, which seems just about right according to my memory. I remember fidgeting and sweating in classrooms well into late June year after year after year.

Today's Auditorium by Hot Shot James Rajotte is a perfect symbol of the eerie emptiness of schools in summertime, or even say, just after classes have let out. (If you look closely you'll notice that the clock's at just about 3pm.)

This photo, which James first exhibited at the gallery as part of the Summer 2006 edition of Hey, Hot Shot! is from a series called High School. Schools provide the perfect foil for his interest "in spaces that have an inherent tension between objects."

As a viewer, I admit that they create a bit of tension and turmoil for me (I was not a star student, alas.) The tension is balanced out by the irresistible pull of nostalgia, and the undeniable beauty of the images that he constructs. And what is art for, if not to stir up emotion and memory? This brings me to the other thing I love about this photo, and others in the series, which is the storytelling they inspire.

When the photo was hanging in the gallery, people would come in and launch into their own high school tales unprompted. That kind of interaction is one of my most valued standards for a successful show. I want all kinds of people to be able to connect with and respond to work, and I try to create an environment where they feel comfortable enough to say it all out loud. James makes the kind of photographs that do exactly that.

And now, if you will, imagine a school bell ringing. 20x200 art school is out for the week. If you want to keep up on your studies between now and next Tuesday, browse our archives or catch up with the blog.

As I mentioned, Ornithology is opening at the gallery on Wednesday June 24th. It's shaped up to be an amazing line-up; there are many names on the roster who will be familiar to gallery goers and 20x200 collectors alike, and we've got some great new artists in the mix as well. And naturally, since synergy is my middle name (or something) you can expect plenty of ornithological goodness to make its way into 20x200's curatorial program in the coming month.

To stay up to date on matters related to Ornithology specifically, and the gallery in general, I suggest signing up for the gallery's very low volume mailing list.

"Busy Tuesday greetings, my collector friends. Lazy days of Summer are nothing but a fond wish so far this year at JBHQ. We're in a frenzy of preparation for next week's big events and this week's deadlines, 20x200 and otherwise. More on all that after a few words on today's fine art edition.

Cul de Sac is an archival pigment print, created from an original gouache on paper painting by artist Michelle Weinberg. Using her Miami Beach environs as her inspiration and subject, Michelle contrasts its unique Deco-Pop color and charm with the city grit you find in any large metropolis.

In her statement she describes how she employs the pulse of pattern and the poetry of pasted words to create invented worlds. While much of her palette and geometry are distinctively deco, the painted plywood and the structures rising behind them also remind me of New York's constantly evolving skyline.

Last night, bedeviled by insomnia, I was composing today's newsletter in my head as I dug through the archives of Poetry. Using the The New York School as my point of departure, I came across An Urban Convalescence, a distinctively New York poem of a certain time (1962) by James Merrill. Locale and era aside, his musings on the impermanence of urban architecture struck me as a fitting accompaniment to this painting, and I set it aside for today's use:

It is not even as though the new
Buildings did very much for architecture.
Suppose they did. The sickness of our time requires
That these as well be blasted in their prime.
You would think the simple fact of having lasted
Threatened our cities like mysterious fires.

As the saying goes, the more things change they stay the same — in art, in poetry and in life.

Now I'm off to attend to today's other to-dos. Tonight's Hey, Hot Shot! deadline is mere hours away, which means we're fielding lots of queries from anxious photographers. Once the clock strikes 8, we'll turn our attentions to preparing for next Tuesday's panelist review of entries, which will be followed on Wednesday by an opening reception at the gallery for Ornithology. (You can count on seeing the fruits of these labors here on 20x200 in the coming weeks as well.)

I'll be back tomorrow with this week's photography edition - see you then!

Greetings, collectors! In today's weather report, the summer heat has been tempered by a spectacular thunderstorm that swept in last night. It's still pretty warm, but in an infinitely less oppressive way. My friend Caterina and I watched the storm through the skylight of the restaurant we were eating at. By the time we were done and walked outside, it was a different world - cleaner, cooler and most importantly, less um, fragrant.

Our dinner conversation is actually germane to today's edition, Mameve, Cambridge, MA by Boston-based photographer Robert Knight, from his ongoing series Dwelling. Caterina and I were discussing how this modern world of digital photography and Flickr have influenced contemporary portraiture, and further how our current flavors of portraiture relate to the traditional bourgeois portraits of the Renaissance. (Some pretty highbrow stuff for Tuesday dinner conversation but stick with me here. It's not all that pretentious, I promise!)

Caterina is the co-founder of Flickr, so she's seen a lot more digital images than the average person (and the average person has seen a lot) and she's also got a background as an artist, not to mention a literature-hungry smarty pants. As for me, well, I have the gallery, am a voracious consumer of online imagery and my obsession with portraiture is a long-standing one. Last Summer, it manifested itself in the form of A New American Portrait, an exhibition I co-curated at the gallery with Jörg Colberg, he of Conscientious fame.

It turns out that, as in Renaissance times, people still love showing their stuff off as signifiers of their selves. Caterina was talking about Flickr streams populated by stiff people not relating to one and other, positioned in front of McMansions and Lear Jets. Lately I've been fascinated by the prevalence of snapshot portraiture and how accustomed we've become to having our pictures taken, which has lead to many people taking the careful control of their public image that had until recently been reserved for celebrities and politicians.

This all relates to Robert because one of the things that I've always found so fascinating about his work is how he creates portraits of people using their stuff, without actually including the people in it. What he includes and how he includes it is entirely subjective, as all photography is in the end. As he says in his statement the things in my photographs belong to my subjects, but by looking through my lens and the inherent imposition of my interests, beliefs and stereotypes, they may experience them as if they are another's. To add further texture to his process, all of his images have the lushness of paintings, his still lifes recalling the intricacies and intimacy of the Dutch Masters.

In a world where we're so inundated with photographic images, and where our private selves are so easily accessed via Flickr or Facebook, the role of the artist in constructing identity becomes ever more complicated. This is especially true with photography as an art medium — what distinguishes a snapshot from a "fine art" photo? Can't anyone with a camera take a good picture? How does one distinguish oneself as an artist when so many people are taking so many kinds of pictures? These kinds of questions are endless, and I confess that they sometimes keep me up at night. (In a good way, as it's the kind of thing I enjoy picking apart.) The skill, subtlety and sophistication that Robert employs in his work is one kind of answer, and watching develop Dwelling renews my faith in fine art photography's importance.

Positively sweltering Tuesday greetings, my collector friends. My welcome back from Spain has been rather too warm, I have to say. I'd like to offer each and every one of you a nice cool glass of lemonade, but since that's probably impractical, I'll offer up some visual refreshment instead.

Today's edition ny.07.#32, comes from perennial 20x200 favorite Jennifer Sánchez. This is Miss Sánchez's third edition with us, since her (now entirely sold out) ny.07.#20 launched us on our maiden voyage back in September, alongside photographer Youngna Park's Brooklyn Morning.

Jennifer has created lots of arty goodness between then and now. We offered a second edition from her ny.07#34 back in January. Shortly thereafter, I was preening like a proud mama-bird when I saw her work at the PULSE New York art fair in March, where she and many other fine emerging artists were exhibited by Saatchi Online. She also showed at Chicago's NEXT fair and her work is on view through September as part of Intricacies, an exhibition at art consultancy Soho Myriad's Atlanta outpost.

All the while she's been making lots of new work, and brightening our office every time she pops by for a visit.

One final note: today's edition is based on an original painting which is available for purchase as well. Drop a line to collector at 20x200 dot com for pricing and details if you're interested in learning more.

With the lowdown on Miss Sánchez complete, I'm going to take my leave for the day. I'm back tomorrow with a fine photographic edition, and will be trying to stay calm, cool and collected in the interim. I hope you're all able to do the same, and I'll see you then!

Buenas tardes, coleccionistas de arte! (This is how the internet told me to say "Good evening, collectors!" The Spanish-speaking among you might be chuckling, but can you fault me for the effort?) Lucky for all of us, I shall not endeavor to deliver this newsletter entirely in Spanish.

Today's photograph Fortune (will be successful in...) is a favorite of mine, and has been since its taker Kirby Pilcher submitted it to Hey, Hot Shot! in Winter of '07. I wasn't the only one charmed; the entire panel agreed, and we showed this along with two other images from his Room Temperature series as part of that season's exhibition.

I am ever in search of anthems, witty quotes and words to live by. Its an utter compulsion that tends to bedevil my reading comprehension. I find myself scanning for the perfect snippet to remove from it's context and elevate as having True Meaning. I do this with novels, newspapers and magazines. I confess that part of my attraction to poetry and song lyrics is how easy it is to pluck the just-so part for placement elsewhere.

I know I'm not alone in this, as evidenced by the wealth of lyrics available and decoded online, and the tag lines so many people I know have claimed as their own on blogs, Twitter or Facebook. And of course, just like you, I've sat around the table with friends countless times, opening fortune cookies with ritualistic attention. I've kept several taped to my monitor for years on end, so that I'd always have some affirmation of future accomplishment just in view, out of the corner of my eye.

In Kirby's photo we have a fragment of fortune that's so ripe with possibility, or is it portent? I will be the optimist and call it possibility, because look at what it's brought already! It's been transformed into a beautiful photo, set against a sunny, sentimental background and is right this second being viewed by tens of thousands of people. Seems like a pretty successful right here and now, if you ask me.

I need to make the most of my own here and now. Jet-lag has undone me, which means that I've spent too much of today sleeping and the rest of it dazedly getting lost amidst Madrid's teensy tiny winding streets. I did discover that I'm just a stone's throw from the Prado, which is good news indeed; The Renaissance Portrait opened there yesterday and it seems like it will be absolutely incredible.

On tap for tonight is a reception at the Circulo de Bellas Artes for David Claerbout and Roni Horn. Portfolio reviews start tomorrow, and I'm looking forward to meeting lots of interesting photo world people. My fellow reviewers are an impressive lot, and the 70 Descubrimientos PHE finalists represent a great array of nationalities and genres. Of note is the fact that 20x200 photographers Jessica Bruah and Birthe Piontek are among those finalists. It'll be fun to hang out with them too!

Now, I'm off till next week, when I'll be back stateside with more printed matter to share with you all.

Discombobulated Tuesday greetings collectors. I just arrived in Madrid a few hours ago for Photos Espania and after partaking of some breakfasty items and some not good enough coffee, I stumbled back to my room and fell asleep for too long. This means I have little to report of Spain so far, except for this: the breakfast pastries at the Oscar are yummy and the room I'm in, while oddly laid out, has an entirely too comfortable bed. Hopefully I'll have more commentary of note after this evening's festivities, which I am dashing off to just as soon as I dash of this note to you.

Today's print edition, the obsessively detailed and slightly creepy (why so angry my little bat friend?) Kerry, comes to us from Atlanta-based artist Jacob Escobedo. You definitely want to check out the bigger version of this bad boy, because the details are incredible.

I love this project of Jacob's. He's been making drawings of his friends' favorite animals and all of them are really stunning. When he came by the studio to sign certificates, I think I managed too convince him that being part of the 20x200 fam made us friends, so I'm hoping that there's a similarly rendered otter in the offing. Otters are not necessarily my favorite but my dog Ollie Otter is my favorite creature on the planet so it seemed apropos. Also, some of my other faves? Taken. Apparently I am not the iconoclast I'd thought myself to be. Hmph.

Bats are pretty damn cool, and like the bees they are in some recent, big and mysterious trouble. As with bees, they play a critical role in balancing out our eco-system and managing some pesky insect populations, so the trend of tens of thousands of them dying off is alarming for lots of reasons.

Bat Conservation International is an organization I learned about several years ago via my friend Antony. They've been really active in leading the charge to figure this whole thing out, so go have a look there and consider getting involved. You can also help in a more passive way, by simply drinking coffee. Specifically Bat City Blend a really delicious blend made by Austin-based roasters Katz Coffee. A portion of the proceeds from Bat City blend sales goes to BCI. Both the coffee and the organization are good, so I say: drink up.

Me? I'm off to find some cafe con leche after which I'll be off to the Biblioteca Nacional for a Best Photo Books of the Year event. This probably means that there are more interesting tales from my trip to be told tomorrow. Until then: Adios!

Yellow Canary #1, by Luke Stephenson

Wednesday greetings, collectors. I can finally feel things shifting into Summer mode, something I welcome with a sigh of relief. It's not as if things have exactly slowed down — we're moving offices (tomorrow!), preparing for the aforementioned Ornithology exhibition and I am off to Madrid on Monday for more photo fun at Photo Espana.

All this plus our ongoing 20x200 curatorial efforts adds up to a hectic pace. But I am most certainly enjoying the sunny days, long-lit evenings and summery treats like soft-serve ice cream and pie. (Who doesn't love pie?!)

Today's ornithological photographic treat comes to us from across the pond, where witty photographer Luke Stephenson has been granting his subjects, be they people or birds, equal importance. Yellow Canary #1 has quite an air about him, don't you think?

I've been besotted with Luke's birds for quite a while now. I fell for his Budgies series a bit over a year ago after seeing them on Meet Me in Ataxia a photography blog that's sadly gone dormant. Fortunately, Ms. Laurel Ptak has kept Luke on my radar via various posts about his projects on i heart photograph. Luke also puts his Flickr stream to good use, featuring himself, his friends and lots of goofy experiments involving all of them. He also presents sets of his various projects there too, which are a bit more browse-able than his admittedly more slick and professional portfolio site.

Luke's subjects are quite varied, but I find his consistency remarkable. He's obviously got a penchant for a specific composition and lighting, and beyond that, there is his bemused approach that is curious, fun-loving, often a bit profane and, most importantly to me, never condescending. In other words: I am a fan and was tickled pink when he agreed to add his charming Yellow Canary to the 20x200 menagerie.

It's my preference and good fortune that my menagerie is mostly two-dimensional, but I do have one beloved living creature in my midst. My pooch, Ms. Otter patiently awaits me, eager to enjoy the sunshiney day. I must tend to her and then I'm off to be briefed on our moving day plans.

I'll be back next week with a dispatch from Madrid. Until then, I recommend generous servings of art and ice cream for all!

Birds of a Feather, by Echo Eggebrecht

Tuesday greetings, my fine feathered friends. It's been a while since we've featured any avian themed art, but I've definitely got birds on the brain. We're in the midst of preparations for our upcoming Summer group show, Ornithology, which opens at Jen Bekman Gallery on June 25th. Yikes, that is soon. It's not just birds that fly! For your anticipation, and my own inspiration, both of this week's editions feature things that go tweet.

Today's Birds of a Feather is our second edition from painter Echo Eggebrecht. I love the surreality of the scene and find my (admittedly futile) attempts to make sense of it amusing. It's also a lovely contrast to the swirling darkness of her first edition, the gorgeous Time Machine, which signals its mystery differently.

For a while I was obsessed with Luis Bunuel's The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, indecipherable as it was (and still is) to me. I was utterly mystified by most of it, but also I was thoroughly entertained - it was sexy, funny, interesting, surprising, beautiful to look at and also brutal. Like life should be, except surreal.

A lot of Echo's work affects me similarly, there are stories she's telling and symbolism, easier for some of us to pick out than it might be for others, abounds. But you don't need the symbols deciphered to get your own meaning and enjoyment from the work, or to create your own stories.

Also: just look! It's beautiful, distinctive and utterly unique. I love the palette — the creamy hues paired with reds and oranges and pinks remind me of Mexican folk art, and the flatness of perspective brings to mind folk art in the same way that Site, Sarah McKenzie's recent edition, did. And yet, all of Echo's work is suffused with a Old World European sensibility that makes me think of castles, heavy drapes and tragic tales.

If you're in NYC, you'll have a chance to see some of Echo's gorgeous work in person very very soon. She's in a group show at Sunday gallery, showing along with many other fine painters including our own 20x200 edition maker Rachell Sumpter. Sunday is a great gallery that shows many fine emerging painters, and its proprietor, Clayton Sean Horton, is friendly, smart and terrific. In other words: he's a wonderful neighbor. Tenderly opens this Thursday (May 29) from 6pm-9pm. I can't wait!

I'm back tomorrow with this week's photo edition, which flew to us from all the way across the pond. It's a good one, so check in tomorrow for all the details.

Every Person in New York, by Jason Polan

More from this series:

Man Sleeping on the Downtown B Train

Woman in the Rain

Man Sitting on Steps on Mercer Street

Gloomy, blustery Tuesday greetings, collector people! If I didn't know it was Spring, I'd swear it was Fall. Late May seems a bit, well, late for turtleneck sweaters, wouldn't you say? I prefer it to the Summer swelter, but sheesh! It's been a strange Spring here in New York City.

Hot on the heels of last Thursday's San Francisco treat, we're bringing things back East with Every Person in New York, 600 for 20x200, our second edition from Jason Polan. It's not exactly an edition however, since each of 222 items we are offering is an original one-of-kind drawing.

A lot of what I had to say about The Hand Project, his first edition with us, applies to Every Person in New York as well - Jason has set a lofty (actually impossible) goal of drawing every person in New York. And he takes the goal seriously, in spite of it's impossibility.

What I admire about the endeavor is the attempt to suspend the river of humanity that is our fair city, one person at a time. It's a rich practice with unending, unconquerable source material. My own personal correlation is with the stories I invent about people I see on subways, through restaurant windows, driving taxis, delivering takeout or leaning up against doorways of shops, smoking and bored - it's an interior monologue that's been running for a lifetime, and I'll never tire of it.

As evidenced by the flurry of attention Jason's received for the project, this quixotic undertaking is provocative. I have one friend who questions the project, in part because I think that she thinks that Jason's being arch and ultra-ironic in a McSweeney's kind of way, in spite of my insistence on his sincerity. Other detractors focus on the "but is it art?" avenue of inquiry. My answer, in case it isn't entirely obvious: most definitely!

Some notes about the edition: each of the two hundred $20 editions is a unique drawing of a New Yorker, each of the twenty $200 editions is a drawing of ten New Yorkers on a single piece of 12"x16" paper and each of the two $2000 editions is a drawing of one hundred New Yorkers, one of whom can be you if you want it to be, on a single piece of 18"x22" paper.

This New Yorker, undrawn to date, is taking off for the time being. I'll be back tomorrow with this week's photo edition. See you then!

Monk, by Mark Ulriksen

Bonus Thursday greetings with a special shout out to the Bay Area. As close readers of this newsletter know, today's special edition is to benefit amazing arts organization SFJAZZ. In other West Coast news, Allison Arieff published a wonderful write-up about 20x200 on the Sunset magazine's blog. As a former writer about design, I have worshiped Ms. Arieff from afar for some time, so glowing accolades from her are especially flattering.

Today's edition Monk, is by jazz-loving artist Mark Ulriksen. If his distinctive style looks familiar to you, it's likely because his work has been featured on many covers of The New Yorker.

I have always had a strong affinity for jazz and was fortunate to have my taste shaped by some amazing jazz musicians; Thelonius Monk was always core to the canon, as he well should be. I had an amazing friendship with tenor great Joe Henderson who encouraged me to give the music business a try. I spent a while working at a jazz publishing house in the Flower District that also doubled as a rehearsal studio for folks like Ben Riley, The Manhattan Transfer and T.S. Monk who I came to know as Toot. Another highlight: holding the original copyright certificate of 'Round Midnight in my hands. My career there was short-lived but my love of jazz is a lifelong passion.

I carried that passion with me when I moved to San Francisco in 1996, and The San Francisco Jazz Festival kept that passion well tended to. One of my sweetest SF memories is seeing Sonny Rollins at Masonic Hall. As producers of the Festival, SFJAZZ is an organization that I have held in high-esteem for years. Combine that with the piece of my heart that I left in San Francisco, and you can see how doing an edition to benefit them is a no-brainer.

I am bringing this edition to you on the eve of their big 25th Anniversary Gala. The event, at the Fours Season in San Francisco tomorrow night, will honor yet another jazz great Wayne Shorter. While I can't be there for the main event, I am most honored to celebrate this fine organization from afar, and I'm very grateful to Mark Ulriksen for making the celebration such a sweet one.

So with a toast to Mr. Ulriksen, you fine collector people and SFJAZZ, I'll say so long till next week when I'll be back to serve up some more fine editions to you. See you then!

--

About SFJAZZ

SFJAZZ is an international leader in jazz creation, presentation, and education. The San Francisco-based organization's 25th Anniversary Gala (May 16, 2008) honors legendary saxophonist and NEA Jazz Master Wayne Shorter in his 75th birthday year. This elegant evening, a benefit for the artistic and education programs of SFJAZZ, will feature performances by Shorter with members of the SFJAZZ Collective, the SFJAZZ High School All-Stars, and an after-party with the Tommy Castro Band. For more information on the Gala and SFJAZZ's many programs, visit sfjazz.org.

Tree Tops, from the series Somewhere in Israel, by Curtis Mann

Good Wednesday, collectors. I am rushing off to a jam-packed day so I'm going to keep my introduction to today's edition relatively brief. (Shocking, I know.)

Treetops from a series by Curtis Mann called Somewhere in Israel, is another body of work that explores the idea of photographs as objects . (Last week's edition by Kent Rogowski dealt with similar themes, producing an entirely different result.) Curtis does a great job of explaining what he's up to in his statement, so I'll let him speak for himself:

...found photographs of unfamiliar and conflicted places throughout the Middle East and Northern Africa are subjected to a process of selection and erasure. By simply painting on enlarged color photographs with clear acrylic and then bleaching the image with household Clorox bleach, a new and abstract meaning is being forced out of these family snapshots, travel photographs and casual documentations.

The photograph is physically and contextually altered; as a result, the work has the ability to oscillate between image and object, photography and painting, real and imagined. I am constantly trying to force the medium to function outside of its initial utility and use its malleable nature as a way of coming to an ulterior understanding of the complex and the unfamiliar. This new reading attempts to shift and expand the limits on how we perceive and understand the fragmented world in which the photograph attempts to represent.

Today is a big day for Curtis; in addition to making his 20x200 debut, he's got a big opening in New York tonight. The Ubiquitous Image, curated by Aperture publisher and Hey, Hot Shot! panelist Lesley Martin, includes several images from this series. The show is one of the four main exhibitions that are the centerpiece of The New York Photo Festival.

Tonight's opening is the first of a flurry events happening over the next few days, including the aforementioned Curating 2.0 panel that I'm participating in on Friday. Curtis is a Hot Shot who first showed with me back in Fall 2005 and is, as of this writing, a 20x200 artist. In other words: he's a perfect example of my 2.0 curatorial practice. I couldn't think of a better day to introduce his work to all of you!

Having introduced you, I'll take my leave till tomorrow. That's right tomorrow! In case you've forgotten (or didn't read that far) we're doing a special bonus edition tomorrow to benefit SFJAZZ. This means even more art for everyone, and that should be music to your ears.

Site, by Sarah McKenzie

Greetings, collectors near and far, on this most lovely of Tuesdays. NYC is bright and breezy today, which is quite a relief after a Monday on which I considered it might be time to build an ark. With that project back-burnered for the moment, I can focus on the buildings of others. Or the paintings of buildings of others. Or is it the prints created from the paintings of buildings of others? Yes, that one! Let's get on with it shall we?

Today's print edition is Site, by Colorado-based painter Sarah McKenzie. I am particularly proud, excited and pleased with this edition as it's the result of my museum-related edition scouting. I first saw Sarah's work in February, when I was in Minneapolis and attended the opening for Worlds Away: New Suburban Landscapes at The Walker. (Incidentally, I am totally nuts for both that show specifically and the museum in general . Highly recommended!)

Since the advent of 20x200, I wander through galleries, museums and art fairs jotting down the names of artists I like in my Moleskine. I am convinced that pretty much every artist should do an edition with us, every artist I like at least, and given the opportunity I will ask accordingly. I'm not afraid of "No", nor am I inclined to accept it as an answer. See how hard I work for you people?

During my Walker wanderings, I saw Sarah's amazing painting and her name and the painting were jotted down in my notebook with high hopes.* Flash forward to a few months later, and here I am presenting you fine people an edition from Ms. McKenzie! A museum piece, no less! (Thanks to the Walker for accommodating us to shoot the piece.)

Site got to be in the museum for a reason - Sarah wields a paint paintbrush deftly, giving us a fresh view of the banality of suburbia. I shift through different impressions each time I look at it. At first glance it seemed photorealistic, in part because it reminds me of the ground well-trod by many of my favorite fine art photographers. But look closely and it's clearly not quite real -there is a flatness in both her paint and perspective that has the primitive feeling of folk art. Take that flatness in and allow yourself to focus on the lines, angles and grids of her work; suddenly you're fully immersed in geometric abstraction, a la the 20th century Modernists. The familiarity of the subject matter allows me to travel through these genres with ease, unencumbered by that uptight "Do I really get it?" feeling. Of course I get it! I've been driving past it my entire life, as have many of you, I'd imagine.

I've always found that being able to move through something with ease can lead to a deeper understanding of a subject. If I can shed the weight of what I don't know, I learn more. (Insecurity and uncertainty are a drag.) Sarah's paintings have instant appeal and familiarity, so they're immediately engaging. Once engaged, I look closer at everything: the subject, how she paints it and the history she's building on. What I don't know is more interesting, and less intimidating; it helps me enjoy what I do know even more by giving me greater insight and connecting my experience to a larger world. So, thanks Sarah, for giving me a fresh perspective and making my world bigger. I hope that she does the same for you.

I'll be back tomorrow with some boundary-broadening photographic work from an artist who's been evolving and growing before my very eyes. We've also got a special bonus edition coming on Thursday, so: Mark your calendars! We'll be introducing an edition to benefit SFJAZZ on the eve of their 25th Anniversary Gala honoring jazz great Wayne Shorter.

I've never wished I could be in more than one place at once more than I am wishing it this week. I am missing the gala, which I'd love to attend for sentimental reasons having to do with both jazz and San Francisco. I just couldn't get away, however, since New York City is positively jumping with The New York Photo Festival and its attendant parties, exhibitions and events.

On Friday evening, as part of Apeture Presents at the NY Photo Fest, I'm on a panel called Curating 2.0 with Laurel Ptak of i heart photograph and Tim Barber of tinyvices.com.

Another not-to-be-missed event this week: the annual benefit for Rhizome supporter, lover and uniter of art and technology.

Lots to do!

* I actually wrote down a lot of names from that show because, like I said, it's a great one and it's full of amazing contemporary artists many of whom I was unfamiliar with until I saw the exhibition. So much 20x200 goodness is in store, yesiree!

Untitled #9, by Kent Rogowski

Frenzied Wednesday greetings, collectors! I'm sitting in the gallery typing away as the crew puts the finishing touches on Love = Love, an exhibition of large scale photographs and puzzle montages by Kent Rogowski.

Today's edition, Untitled #9, is photographic print based on a unique puzzle montage that is being hung in the gallery right this very second. An edition of 3 exhibition-sized (44"x57") prints are available as well. Back in my days of Disney toil, we'd call this synergy. I gotta say though: synergy then was never so much fun as all this.

I have two major thinky obsessions related to photography, the relationship between photographer and subject in portraiture is the first; the second is the consideration of a photograph as an object rather than as a document. (The latter topic has become especially fascinating since I started doing 20x200.)

Kent's project really pushes the topic of object vs. document. He's taking objects made from photographs, deconstructing them, reassembling them, documenting those reassembled objects and then to top it all off, these documents become different objects entirely when you present them at different sizes. Which is what the exhibition is all about.

Doing a 20x200 edition is the meta-est manifestation of the concept; the effect of the grid-like fault lines of the puzzles varies enormously depending on the dimensions of the print. Their presence is most obvious at its smallest and largest sizes, but in totally different ways.

As I say in the exhibition's press release, I fell in love with Love = Love immediately. I have a practically Pavlovian response to the bright and shiny, so they had me at hello. Throw in nostalgia (puzzle making seems awfully old-fashioned in these days of Wii) and the thinky parts, and I was goner than gone. Ask anyone who knows me — I have basically not shut up about the damn things since I finally saw them in person at Fotofest in March.

Bert Teunissen and I had a long discussion about all of this on Monday evening, over wings and margaritas at Great Jones Cafe. (First class treatment for my international friends: always guaranteed.) He himself is the king of the photograph as a document, so the conversation was particularly intriguing. I can't wait to hear what he thinks when he sees Kent's photos at the opening tonight.*

I'd love to know what you think too - I hope to see a good showing of 20x200 collectors at tonight's reception. The gallery's located at 6 Spring St, just off the Bowery, festivities commence at 6. As an aside, you can stay up to date on gallery happenings by signing up for our mailing list.

I'm off to attend to the last details of the day. See you later, ok? OK!

*Confidential to Bert: You are so totally on the hook to show up now, just like you promised.

Studio Apartment, by Chi Birmingham

Like Alice's White Rabbit, I'm late, late, late for a very important date. So my fine collector friends, I will give you the briefest of free-association introductions to today's wonderful fine art edition from Big Sur born, Brooklyn dwelling artist Chi Birmingham.

Studio Apartment brings to my mind a few disparate things:

- The movie Rear Window

- A recurring dream that I have wherein I suddenly discover a whole extra room in my apartment. (Bummer waking up to reality from that one, let me tell you.)

- My waking dream, hope, most fervent wish that one day soon I'll get to move to an apartment on a high floor, better yet the top floor, flooded with natural light. (I am currently cave-dwelling underneath what must be a herd of elephants. My beloved art is all crooked on the walls from the continuous rumble.)

- Wood grain and sage green are most pleasing to my eye.

- Perhaps I should consider a house plant? One that doesn't require much natural light.

And now back to my preparations for Kent Rogowski's solo show, Love = Love, which opens tomorrow at the gallery . It's so freaking great, I can hardly stand it. More on that in my next dispatch. Until then: adieu!

Towards Christiana (Copenhagen) by Rachel Sussman

Wednesday greetings, collectors. You're going to have to forgive me for keeping it brief — it's my last day in SF and in spite of my best intentions, yesterday's ambitious plans went uncompleted. To make matters worse, I am already way behind, as evidenced by the lateness of this dispatch.

Fortunately, today's photography edition, Towards Christiana (Copenhagen), is so gorgeous; a song and a dance from me isn't needed to convince you of its aesthetic merits. That said, I'd be doing you all a disservice if I didn't call attention to photographer Rachel Sussman's rigorous and adventurous artistic practice.

Like today's edition, all of Rachel's images are unfailingly stunning — they're lush, epic and beautifully composed — but she creates these tableaux in the service of some big ideas and ambitions that have, quite literally, taken her all over the world.

One special note about this edition: It's offered in our three standard 20x200 editions, but we also have an edition of 3 prints available at Rachel's normal exhibition size of 44"x 54". They are amazing! You can mail collector at 20x200 dot com for more information about those.

Rachel showed another photo from her Lost in Paradise with me back in 2005 as part of the very first Hey, Hot Shot! showcase. Since then, she's gone from being a photographer with a day job to someone who spends most of her time making pictures.

All her hard work has paid off! Her solo show, The Oldest Living Things In The World opens @ Michael Steinberg Fine Art in Chelsea tomorrow and it promises to be a real treat.

As for me, I've got some San Francisco treats to stock up on. I'm off until next week, when I'll be coming to you live from New York. See you then!

Corner Light Monadnock, by Amy Park

Greetings from the West Coast, my collector pals. I'm still visiting San Francisco and have been enjoying all kinds of arty goodness during my trip. More on that later, because really the main point of this missive (as you well know!) is to introduce today's edition.

Corner Light Monadnock is based on an original watercolor painting by NY-based artist Amy Park. All of Amy's gorgeous architectural paintings render the solidity of bricks and mortar with a precision one would never expect to be coaxed from watercolor. (Well, this one would never expect it, at least.) As a medium, watercolor can be inconsistent and difficult to contain; their use in Amy's work gives the buildings a dreamy, cinematic intensity well-suited to the feeling I get when walking through the deserted caverns of Wall Street on a weekend afternoon.

There's a theoretical future version of myself who lives in a cottage in the woods (somewhere near Point Reyes, preferably.) Future me rides her bike into town in the morning to pick up her mail from the PO and kibbitz with the locals over coffee. Future me is more like fantasy me, however, because really I'm a city girl at heart - more at home in the wilds of Manhattan than amongst the redwoods. Amy's work speaks to past, present and yes, future me as well. It captures the majesty and menace of the urban landscape and transports me into it from wherever I may be. And in spite of its foreboding, I really want to be there.

Most of my San Francisco trip has been spent downtown and South of Market, amongst its own glass and brick towers. On Saturday, I caught the last day of America by Car, a very fine Friedlander show at Fraenkel Gallery. I also got a sneak peak at their upcoming Christian Marclay exhibition Stereo which is going to be totally amazing, I promise.

I've found lots of prints of the not $20 variety to covet along the way - a couple from Marclay, a little something from Chris Johanson printed by Paulson Press and later on today I'll pop into the venerable Crown Point Press to ogle their Amy Sillman and Julie Mehretu prints. Not to mention the fabulous and funny Los Francisco San Angeles prints from Ed Ruscha. After that I'll get my SFMOMA on, where I'm hoping to have time to get a closer look at their current Friedlander exhibition, an incarnation of which I saw all too briefly when I was at Foam in Amsterdam over the holidays.

Tomorrow's a toss up. Future me wants to squeeze in a trip to Pt. Reyes. But art fiend me wants to head to the East Bay and visit those prints at Paulson Press in person. Decisions, decisions! I'll let you know what the plan is in the morning, when I'll be back with a photo edition most fine, my last San Francisco dispatch before heading home to the sidewalks of New York on Thursday.

Every Chair At the Visual Studies Workshop, by Luke Strosnider

The image above is the medium sized print in this edition. It includes 45 of Luke's favorite chairs.

The small prints are of individual chairs:

And the large 30"x40" print is of all 521 chairs:

Greetings from the West, collector friends! I write to you from San Francisco, bundled up in a cozy wrap to ward off the delicious chill of morning fog. I love the cozy, and I love today's photography edition by photographer, writer and all around smart guy Luke Strosnider.

Our editions of Every Chair at the Visual Studies Workshop are a shining example of why doing 20x200 is so much fun. I love figuring out interesting ways to experiment with our format without breaking it; Luke's project provides an excellent avenue for such an inquiry.

His typology of chairs is so good - simple, funny and somehow really touching. As with all typologies, his treatment of his subjects speaks simultaneously to sameness and difference. We've structured the edition in a way that allows collectors to look at them the same way.

Our edition of 200 is comprised of 200 unique chair portraits - every collector will receive a different, randomly chosen photo. In treating his subjects as though he is shooting traditional portraits, he anthropomorphizes them; considered singly, each seems imbued with its own character. Certain chairs elicit from me the cooing and aww-ing I normally reserve for the sight of otters holding hands. Others are velveteen rabbits well-used, but taken for granted. Every single one is unique, selected from the pool of 522.

Our medium edition is a well-thought out grid, representing the variety of chairs Luke's documented. Considered together and carefully arrayed, this version speaks to my design-jones, delivering a deft, populist and decidedly contemporary response to the Vitra Design Museum's iconic chairs poster.

Our largest edition drops science. Consider it the periodic table of 522 chairs of the Visual Studies Workshop. Luke explained to me via email that the ordering (L to R, starting in the upper L) is the order in which I made the photographs. It was important to me that this project reflect some measure of the passage of time: my own time, "photographic time," and the history of the Visual Studies Workshop. At first blush it seemed off-kilter, but then I came to realize that its asymmetry spoke directly to the project's authenticity, intelligence and charm.

Luke has been one of my internet (and less frequently, in-person) pals for a while now, connecting with the gallery in various ways. Two of his Visual Studies cohorts, Kirby Pilcher and James Rajotte, are Hey, Hot Shot! alumni. Luke himself has been a frequent visitor to the gallery and has written intelligent commentary about several exhibitions. His response to Nina Berman's debut at my gallery was thought-provoking and his review of Photographs from the New World for Afterimage was one of the best things written about the show. (And a lot was written about that particular exhibition.) When Luke debuted his chairs project on Flickr, I was totally thrilled, because I knew that it was the perfect opportunity for us to finally work directly together on something.

I couldn't be more pleased with the results. The edition has a lot in common with other interactions I've had with Luke - it's been fun and inspiring and it's made me look at things a little differently. Exactly what art and artists should do, so very well done by Mr. Strosnider.

And with that, I take my leave till next week, when I'll be back with more art and tales of the West. Have fun out there!

Trucks, Seattle, by Tommy Perman

Tuesday greetings collectors! After a week of Starnmania, things are getting back to normal around here. Which means that today is fine art day, tomorrow is photo day and I'm about to hit the road.

Trucks, Seattle is based on an original drawing by Scottish renaissance fella Tommy Perman. I first came across Tommy's work back in January, via one of the countless art and design blogs in my RSS feed. I was really taken with his drawings of cityscapes and cars and I was very pleased to discover that he too was interested in making affordable versions of his artwork. I immediately snapped up one of his postcard packs and after that we decided to do an edition together.

As per usual there's a random assortment of things that make this drawing particularly appealing to be. The trucks are gathered together in a way that reminds me of a herd of elephants, and it just so happens that I am fascinated by elephants. The red and blue Tommy uses in the drawing are a close approximation of the colors in my gallery's logo. But first and foremost, I look at these cement mixers all lined up and imagine one of my friends' kids, most likely a boy of 3 or 5, lighting up at the sight of trucks. There's something about the pure joy that a little kid can summon at the site of a roaring hunk of metal that really warms my heart.

A roaring hunk of metal of the airborne variety will be transporting me to San Francisco later today. I'm participating in a Small Business Hacks roundtable at Web2Open, which is the unconference that coincidences with the bigger, more conference-ier Web 2.0 Expo. Aside from conference-related stuff, art will be seen, meetings will be had and newsletters will be written. For now, I'm off to try to undo the over-packing I've done. Look for me tomorrow, when I'll write from the left coast to introduce this week's photo edition.

Structure of Thought 6a, by Mike and Doug Starn

Structure of Thought 6b, by Mike and Doug Starn

Greetings collectors and welcome to Starn Twins for 20x200: The Sequel. This is a special bonus edition, coming hot on the heels of last week's Blind Spot benefit edition.

Structure of Thought 6a is printed on translucent vellum and is a beautiful print on its own, so if you didn't get the first one, don't hesitate to click through and grab a print. And of course, it can be layered over Structure of Thought 6b. I sat in the studio with Mike and Doug and we experimented with the proofs, trying to decide the best way to layer them effectively. The objective is twofold: creating a little space between the two layers allows the light to move through the vellum, illuminating the lower print, and when the vellum is suspended it also creates some ripples in the paper, mimicking the texture of their works done on varnished papers. We came up with two solutions:

- The nothing fancy solution: Small plain tacks set in a bit from the corners of the bottom layer.

- The somewhat fancier pro-framer solution. Your framer can use archival paper hinges to affix the vellum layer to the cotton rag layer, creating the same effect as if by magic. (Since the hinges won't be visible.)

Are you still reading this?! Come back and finish up later, this edition is sure to sell out quickly so go ahead and buy one now

I'll be back on Tuesday and Wednesday with regular fine art and photography editions. See you then!

A few words about this edition:

- It's only available in the $20 and $2000 sizes.

- Purchases are limited to one print of each edition per collector and/or mailing address. We reserve the right to refund purchases if we determine that a single collector has acquired multiple prints.

- It's not going to ship right away. We expect to be able to ship it well within two weeks, which is not our usual speedy standard. (It's worth the wait, promise!)

- While you can layer this with our previous Starn edition, each edition is a separate piece. You don't need one to complete the other. And there is no guarantee that people who bought the first will receive the second.

- All prints are sold on a first come, first serve basis.

- We cannot combine shipping with this edition. Our apologies!

Untitled (Bondi Baths, Sydney, Australia) 2007
by Carlo van de Roer

Is it Spring yet? It just might be. We're being teased mercilessly here in NYC, where it's been brilliantly sunny, yet not quite warm enough, for seemingly forever (and today.) I have a feeling that it'll switch over to swelter overnight, and swimming season will be upon us.

Untitled (Bondi Baths, Sydney, Australia) 2007, our second offering from Kiwi shutterbug Carlo Van de Roer's Swim series, is a well-suited accompaniment to this line of thinking, wouldn't you say? (Note: I just can't help myself with the puns, it's practically a sickness. Brace yourselves, there's more.)

Carlo's first edition, Untitled (Astoria Park, Queens, New York), made quite a splash when we introduced it just before Christmas. The entire edition sold out in short order; clearly, everyone was into the pool.

20x200 collectors have been thirsting for more ever since, so while Carlo and I were hanging out at Fotofest in Houston, we fished out another fine specimen to offer from the series. We chose Untitled (Bondi Baths, Sydney, Australia) 2007 because aside from having pools and swimmers in common, this image is clearly the best mate to Astoria's composition.

Ok, basta with puns. I've got a huge backlog of email to dive into and schedules to synchronize. I set sail for San Francisco on Tuesday, so the crew and I are rushing to get everything ship shape before I go. (Of course I'm not sailing, but you know...)

Ahoy till next week, mateys!

Chamonix, by Ian Carpenter

Yesterday was a record-breaking day in 20x200's short history. Our Blind Spot benefit print, the first of two editions from Starn Twins, was gone in seven minutes! I had a feeling it'd be popular, but we didn't anticipate just how fast it would go. Lucky for the disappointed many, there's another edition from Mike + Doug in the works that we'll be announcing any day now; as usual, list subscribers will be the first to know.

For the moment, let's turn our attentions to the colorful Chamonix, an archival pigment print based a gouache on wood original by NYC painter Ian Carpenter. Ian's inspiration might be coming from the snowy mountains of Chamonix-Mont-Blanc in Eastern France, but run through the technicolor filter of his imagination it becomes a valley town from another planet.

His own inspirations aside, the use of color and his playful juxtaposition of forms inspires in me an utterly random and enjoyable stream of consciousness, touching upon many of my favorite things, some far away, and some nearly forgotten: the Southwest, candy, a beloved acid-green jacket that I wore in high school (it was the 80s, shut up), looking down at cityscapes from airplanes and the decaying World's Fair structures out in Queens. These are just a few things which have presented themselves to me while looking at this painting.

What can I say? The mind works in mysterious ways. As a firm believer in the idea that there are no wrong answers, I like that Ian's approach and its results encourage my mind to wander.

Currently, I'm wanting to wander over to eBay to see whether I might be able to unearth an 80s vintage Kikit jacket, and, wouldn't you know it? I'm craving some candy. So, I'm going to take my leave and try to satisfy those urges, leaving you to your own wanderings.

Need more inspiration? Browsing our inventory will prime your imagination and keep things humming until I return tomorrow with the aforementioned photography edition. See you then!

Structure of Thought 6b, by Mike and Doug Starn

Structure of Thought 6a, by Mike and Doug Starn
This image will be a future 20x200 edition.

Structure of Thought 6a layered over 6b

Not-just-any-Tuesday greetings, collectors. I'm awfully pleased to be announcing today's special photograph, which kicks off a week's worth of arty goodness featuring not one, but two bonus editions for discerning collectors established and emerging.

We start the week off with Structure of Thought 6b, an edition created exclusively by the Starn Twins for 20x200, to benefit Blind Spot.* The Starn Twins! Doing editions with us! How cool is that?

100% of the profits of this edition will contribute to the support Blind Spot's innovative and ambitious photography programs, which include its fabulous magazine, editions, books and public forums.

As you can see, Structure of Thought 6b is gorgeous in its own right. It can also be layered beneath the upcoming Structure of Thought 6a, another edition from Mike and Doug which will be printed on a vellum paper. The third image shown here gives you an idea of what they look like when they're layered, but as is often the case, the effect is much better when viewed in person. (We're still putting the finishing touches on the other edition, and we'll introduce it as soon as it's all done.)

Eric Recktenwald, 20x200 printing wizard, is producing both prints, which have been closely supervised by the Starns. Today's edition is printed on smooth archival cotton fiber paper that's opaque. The upcoming edition's archival vellum surface is semi-translucent, which gives it a dreamy ethereal effect when viewed on its own; when layered over today's edition, the limbs become, in the Starns' words "separate and connected, like capillaries in your body or in a leaf."

Working on this project with the Starns has been an amazing experience, reconfirming my belief that I have the very best job in the world. Figuring out how to produce these prints has been a formidable and incredibly fun challenge. Sarah and I spent a few hours out at the Starns' studio last week; Mike, Doug and Gaudéricq Robiliard, their wonderful project director, looked over Eric's proofs with us and we made our final selections. We talked about how ably Eric had met this printing challenge, their upcoming exhibitions and their other art-for-everyone undertaking, a monumental installation they're completing for the South Ferry subway station as part of the MTA's Arts for Transit program. (That is going to really be something and I can't wait to see it.)

The Starns are long-time supporters of, and collaborators with, Blind Spot; I'm proud and honored to have had the opportunity to add another layer to that support with this edition. And of course, it's not just Blind Spot they're supporting — doing an edition with 20x200 signals Doug and Mike's commitment to making art available to a broad audience. Such a commitment can be seen as renegade or risky, but its one that they've honored with enthusiasm and uncompromising standards. In other words: they are awesome.

To top off this extravaganza, Blind Spot publisher Dana Faconti is offering a 10% discount to 20x200 collectors who subscribe to Blind Spot Magazine. It's a totally delicious, beautifully printed publication that's collectible itself, so I encourage you to get a subscription. (To get your discount, enter code 20x200 when you check out.)

A few words about this edition:

- It's only available in the $20 and $2000 sizes.
- Purchases are limited to one print of each edition per collector and/or mailing address. We reserve the right to refund purchases if we determine that a single collector has acquired multiple prints.
- It's not going to ship right away. We expect to be able to ship it well within two weeks, which is not our usual speedy standard. (It's worth the wait, promise!)
- While you can layer this with the upcoming edition, each edition is a separate piece. You don't need one to complete the other.\
- All prints are sold on a first come, first serve basis. Buying today's edition doesn't guarantee that you'll be able to get the second one.
- We absolutely cannot combine shipping on these prints. Our apologies!
And with those notes, I take my leave until tomorrow, when I'll be back with this week's fine art edition. See you all then!

*Yes, this is the edition I promised you last week! It took a little longer for us to finalize all the fine details, in spite of lots of hard work and our very best intentions.

Hot Dog and I, by Fernanda Cohen

Wednesday greetings, my collector friends. Looks like yesterday's double header was a home run, even among the upper crustiest. I was at a posh event at The Whitney last night and ran into quite a few people who were very pleased with their most recent 20x200 acquisitions. Go team!

I thought we'd follow up yesterday's hit with a curve ball from exuberant artist and illustrator Fernanda Cohen. (That's my final baseball pun for the week, promise.) We're all holding our breath at 20x200 HQ to see how our collector crowd responds to Hot Dog and I.

I think it's pretty great. Hilarious, in fact. Look how happy that dude is, eating his hot dog with his junk blowing in the breeze. He'd probably get arrested in Central Park, but I have a feeling he'd insist on finishing off his afternoon snack before he allowed himself to be cuffed.

Fernanda has a distinctive illustrative style, one that you may well recognize from the pages of The New Yorker. This particular piece is from a series she did called The Food Affair which features a variety of zaftig sensualists in the throes of rapturous repasts. Of all the pieces Fernanda submitted, this was the one that struck me as being so New York for a million reasons (public nudity not being among them.) New York + Food + Love = Edition Awesomeness in my book, so we went with it.

While I saw no naked men munching on wieners in the NYC of my youth, something about this illustration that connects me to, and makes me sentimental for late 20th Century NYC. It reminds me of weekend trips to the museum followed by strolls through the park and special treats of street food. It reminds me of The New Yorker before Tina Brown and of the city itself in a time when it wasn't a place largely inhabited by hedge fund managers and well-moneyed international tourists.

I am probably reading way too much into it, but I'm always glad to have these happy associations triggered and with Hot Dog and I, they're triggered with a giggle.

And what about his apologetic nakedness? This unselfconscious unfurling of a figure that can only be described as rubenesque? Totally great! A well-toned Adonis taking his afternoon meal with such casual aplomb would not have nearly the same effect. There's an uncanny allure to someone who is fat and happy and in love with their lunch. Don't you think?

Speaking of being in love with lunch, I need some of that my own self. Probably something less salty and starchy than what hot dog guy is having. I need to do justice to the fantastic frock that I've picked out for tomorrow's Blind Spot benefit. More on all of that tomorrow morning, when we announce our extra special edition in their honor.

(Warning: many bad baseball puns ahead.)

Greetings sports fans, collectors! Welcome to our special Tuesday double header*, brought to us by Don Hamerman.

Hemi and Mossball are just two of many Found Baseballs that Don and his pooch have collected from the park near his home in Stamford, Ct.

I've had my eye on these since Design Observer MVP William Drenttel featured them back in February. With baseball season about to go into full swing, it seemed like the perfect time to hit a few of these out of the park and into our collectors' hands.

The 20x200 All Star team spent a lot of time huddled around a monitor, trying to figure out the best line-up. Everyone had their favorites; right off the bat, it was obvious that we'd never be able to choose just one.

I'm not a huge fan of baseball myself, so the almost totally abstracted Mossball was my first round draft pick. We decided to round things out with Hemi, a baseball at its core that looked more and more like some angry creature as we stared at it.

This edition should warm you up for the week ahead, which features an extra inning. Up at bat tomorrow is our fine art edition, an offbeat homage to another all-American staple created with a decidedly New Yorker point-of-view.

On Thursday, we'll announce a special bonus edition to benefit Blind Spot, in conjunction with its annual benefit auction event @ David Zwirner that same evening. As is fitting for a publication of its caliber, the edition is out of this world and super special.

I can't wait - I'm really looking forward to announcing the edition and attending the benefit, which features tons of great work by some absolutely amazing photographers. Right now, it's time for me to suit up and strike out into the world. I'll be back before you know it, with more art for everyone.

* If you want us to combine shipping on these prints, just respond to your Google checkout email and we'll ship together and refund the difference. Please note that a small per-print handling fee still applies.