As the byline suggests, my responsibilities at Newfields usually involve stewarding our collection of prints, drawings, and photographs—or “all things flat.” Curating this year’s commission in the Efroymson Family Entrance Pavillion took me bravely into the world of large, three-dimensional objects. Fortunately, my esteemed partner for this venture has been the brilliant Kori Newkirk, a Los Angeles-based artist with expertise at creating large sculptural installations that speak to their surroundings and bring a space to life. Newkirk’s artworks often use familiar objects to help viewers think about how the built landscapes around us shape our culture and daily lives. He has been exhibiting works that surprise and provoke closer looking and thought nationally and internationally since 1997. 

Last August, after agreeing to take on the light-flooded space of our entrance pavilion, Newkirk flew to Indianapolis to spend time getting to know not just the pavilion but all of Newfields and its surrounding neighbors. As the “local guide,” I traveled with him down 38^th Street from the International Marketplace neighborhood to the Indiana State Fair, with some detours along the way. We reflected on this visit: 

Stein: The visit was for you to find inspiration in Indianapolis, but it was also helpful for me to spend time with you and clock how you saw your surroundings and prompted others to see in new ways. The things that you noticed, asked about, and continued to think about made our team take a second look at places we had driven or walked past uncountable times. What memories stuck with you as you stewed on your concept for the commission? 

Newkirk: Indianapolis was interesting from the start. I can relate to the general sprawl to some extent, a lot of drive time for sure. But that time in the car let me see so much of the city and a little beyond. I was taken by the lush greenery, perhaps it was just that time of year. I forget about that part of my own upbringing [in upstate New York] sometimes, living where I do. I loved the different areas I sped through—the sheer diversity of the built environment and invisible (at least to me) boundaries between neighborhoods is something I kept bouncing around. A few special things caught my eye, like the particular color of the fire hydrants during a tour of a historic area, the drastic change in some places between day and night, and my time at the Indiana State Fair—particularly the Hall of Pigs/Pork [The Swine Barn]. In the end, I think I was influenced most by the people I met and the stories they told. These tales, tall and maybe true, really stuck with me and evolved into the final realization of the work. 

Newkirk’s decision to focus on a dandelion brought together his perception of the overlooked with his desire to find an object that could weave together such a diversity of spaces. Parking lots, unmarked lots, the designed gardens of Newfields, the manicured Crown Hill Cemetery, front lawns in various states, and so on created a pattern of spaces that felt fresh adjacent to those of forgotten history. The dandelion grows and thrives across all these spaces, matching the resilience and mobility of humans moving and settling throughout the world. Making the dandelion matte black with a glowing element creates patterns of light and shadow that reiterate the idea of the seen and unseen.  

Stein: You worked closely with trusted fabricators at Benchmark Arts to bring Black Dandelion to life. One challenge was getting the right matte black paint. Can you talk a little bit about your vision for that and how you and Benchmark worked through it? 

Newkirk: I had been thinking a lot about negative space, and what that can mean. Is it a thing we can touch? Is it a vibe (like the kids say)? I've always been interested in the notion of invisibility and questions about where you are not versus where you are.... Location. Location. Location.  

I set out to make a work that could perhaps touch on these things as well as a lot of other stuff, working closely with Benchmark to try and find the right black to achieve this attempt at a slight of hand: One that would approach the original desire for the work and what wouldn't break the bank. I'm not sure if what I was after is even possible!  It just comes down to trust, in myself, in the work and in the team, in addition to being open and flexible. We looked at so many samples of black paint it was crazy. I'm super happy with my final choice, I hope that it operates in the ways I want it to, and I'm excited to see how it operates in new ways in this space. I like to think that every work I make is an experiment of some sort, so I can't wait to see the results of this latest one. 

Once Black Dandelion is installed and finalized, guests entering Newfields will encounter something familiar yet strange, and beautiful yet perhaps mysterious. The contrasts of sparkling light and dark shadow transform the mundane and provoke us to consider our world in new ways. As adults, dandelions are a chore: I know the pressure to keep them from overtaking my yard paired with anxiety over supporting pollinators. At the same time, children might pick dandelion bouquets, press the flowers to transfer their hue, or blow the seedheads to make a wish. Taking a second look at them gives us the opportunity to contemplate the overlooked everywhere and consider new possibilities for not just the flora but the spaces and people in our lives.