The third piece is about the relationship between the Vanderbilts and the Astors. During the 1870s and at the beginning of the 1880s the old money Astors refused to socially acknowledge the new money Vanderbilts, despite their tremendous wealth. The Vanderbilts gained a reputation for throwing extravagant parties which the Astors disdained to attend. In 1883 the Astor daughter, Carrie Astor Wilson, threw a tantrum upon learning she wouldn’t be invited to the Vanderbilts' housewarming and forced her mother to finally formally call on the Vanderbilts. The houses in this piece are inspired by the Vanderbilts' massive 5th Avenue mansion designed by Richard Morris Hunt. I drew upon French Art Nouveau architecture in my version of the Vanderbilt mansion. It was common among the Nouveau Riche of the Gilded Age to look to France for both inspiration and validation, which they did not receive from the American upper class. The original Vanderbilt mansion was modeled after a French chateau. This piece includes a 3D scan of a bottle of Bénédictine and a bottle of wine. Carrie Astor reclines on a couch in between the two houses.

You know other people (including the boy like) are out there partying and you are home alone in your bed with no one.

When I was asked to make work about partying and celebrating the first memory that surfaces in my mind was my experience as pre-teen on the east coast hearing trickle down news of the chaos and fever surrounding women like Britney spears, Lindsey Lohan and Paris Hilton. The Iconic car photo and panty slip moment represent to me the golden age of white girl la party nonsense the in my mind represented both the early 2000 and distant LA. I wanted to center both the media frenzy of that area and slightly older iconic party buildings like Chateau Mormont.

You're going to another show and the boy you have a crush on (but you haven't told anyone cause you are a cool girl who wouldn’t do that) is in a band playing at the bar and you go even though you know his skinny blonde gf is gonna be there (and she puts on this really stupid affect when she's around boys that drives you insane) and then he ignores you all night and it sucks. But then a portal opens and a handsome well-dressed stranger with a sword appears and takes you somewhere way cooler than a basement show and you never look back.”

An ode to a terrible loft in Tribeca my friend used to drag me to tell all hour in the morning

This piece is most certainly not about Berghain it’s about Bacccus, pan, and nymphs being the original party girls.

This piece is dedicated to my friend Evan, with whom have invented many absolutely fictional art deco worlds and without whom i never would have learned how to have a good time in New York. This building looks absolutely nothing like the Standard Highline, but it look exactly like Standard Highline in my mind.