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December 10, 2016
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A night at the brewery, a day in the garden…and all that jazz

Later that same day, avant garde artist extraordinaire Claire Coleman was hosting an opening reception for her new installation, “Chuck.” It chronicles the life and death of the previous occupant of her new home, which she and the husband found filled from top to bottom with what Coleman described as “detritus” (look it up; I had to), telegraphing that a hoarder had been in residence. Thousands of photographs, pieces of paper (what I call ephemera) and bits of flotsam and jetsam representing decades of life, death, neglect and decay fill the space on Main Street in the Manor, ( including a tweaked “living room” featuring original wallpapers, furnishings and re-booted works of art created by a variety of local talent, utilizing materials found on-site. I peppered Coleman with questions, which she fielded while welcoming a swarm of guests, some of whom were dressed in period attire, complimenting the dizzying scene that unfolds as one absorbs “Chuck.” “Why didn’t anyone want it?” Coleman asked, sweeping her arms around the room. “It’s not all junk, you know,” she continued, “and we contacted family members. They weren’t interested.” When I suggested that it was dark and disturbing, Claire laughed. “Oh, it was great fun to put this together, but a huge commitment. Tell everyone you know,” she said, waving me out the door. “It’s here ‘til Labor Day.”