I, DAUGHTER OF KONG
Assembled by Lara Allen through the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council’s SwingSpace Program in May 2009. For more about the I, Daughter of Kong collective, visit idaughterofkongdotcom.
Exhibiting artists: Adam J. Ansell, Anna Betbeze, Matt Borruso, R. Crumb, Georganne Deen, Per Frykdahl, Amy Hicks, Cornelia Jensen, Alexis Karl, George Kuchar, Matthew Lusk, Kyp Malone, Jason Mecier, Cynthia Mitchell, Baker Overstreet, Pablo the Chimp (courtesy of Darby Bannard), Duke Riley, Shadow the Cat, Christine Shields, Anjali Sundaram & Jade Townsend.
Soundtrack by: Craig Ventresco.
I, Daughter of Kong Scent by: Alexis Karl.
Performance by: Lone Wolf and Cub (Suzanne Rogaleski and Ryan Sawyer).
Special thanks to Ken Weaver.
I, DAUGHTER OF KONG
I, Daughter of Kong, Princess of the black jungle
Orphan of the beasts, orphan of the stars
Born motherless into this grey city
I carry blackness silently as my mother carried me.
I call this cold place home; I have no home.
I am the eyes that watch as others return to their own
Alone in this asphalt compound of exile and betrayal
Tomb of my father, the last true King.
I, Daughter of Kong, Princess and Virgin
I turn from pale eyes, wanton and urgent
And the putrid, sweet smell of moths and melted wax
Embalming these puny, peculiar creatures
None can catch me; how I long to be caught!
Stronger than any man, braver and more afraid
My heart is an orchid buzzing with flies
I am the invisible longing t’ward which men collapse in their sleep
I, Daughter of Kong, princess, silent siren
In dreams I call my subjects, too far away to hear
There is no map to my island; no plane or ship can take me there
The red sunset is the kingdom locked inside of me.
MOON FEVER WAR SONG
Moon Fever War Song was co-written with Cynthia Mitchell for the Brooklyn Utopias exhibition at the Brooklyn Historical Society. Invoking historical, cultural, and literary references, including E.T. Paull’s Woman Forever March and Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself, it reclaims Brooklyn farmland and speaks to the beauty of failed utopias.