I feel like I spent from November through February reading endless screeds on how the market has killed art. There may not be a lot of life left in Chelsea, but Long Island City’s Flux Factory has enough to lit a small city. My report on their Iron Chef Contest below.
A couple of Saturdays ago I had the honor of judging Flux Factory’s second or third Iron Chef Contest. The exact number isn’t important—Fluxers aren’t concerned with accuracy so much as getting the job done. Iron Chef judges (myself included) were told to look for “fluxiness” in the “Fluxers.” While it was never fully defined, the meaning quickly became apparent: it’s the creative cojones required to make do with what you have. When showcased effectively, as it was that evening, fluxiness is both terrifying and exhilarating.
Most of the night was a blur. Flux Factory residents Georgia Muenster, Aliya Bonar, Theodoros Zafeiropoulos, Stephanie Avery, and Nick Cregor competed for an absurd trophy: a yellow sponge with glasses, a fake nose, and a whisk for hair. They took the challenge seriously. Underneath a chicken disco ball, we watched a flurry of activity on countertops and stoves. Either to calm our nerves or to fuel the excitement, judges were supplied with drinks that tasted like hot sauce bathed in 180-proof liquor. Needless to say no one drank much.
To read the full piece, click here.