screening room
[[for past screenings vist the library/archive]
what’s on view?
[Lois Dodd]
[Maine Masters]                
How Long?
[04/01-04/30]




CLICK TO OPEN

a journey for a friend, for me, for him  written by casey segal
   My interest in Lois Dodd began with a text from Preston on Monday, March 2, 2026: “You should go check out the Lois Dodd exhibition at Brooklyn College for me ahahah, feel like it’ll bring u painting inspiration.” And it did. After visiting, a few things became clear, Lois Dodd inspires me deeply because of the humility, wit, and selflessness embedded in both her practice and her being.

   My journey began with what might feel nostalgic to Preston: biking through the streets of South Brooklyn. Potholes, non-existent bike lanes, whizzing SUVs, and eclectic delivery bikes. It was the first warm day of spring, Tuesday, March 10, two days after daylight savings, and I was cruising through suburban Brooklyn in a t-shirt, the sun still high in the sky. Even amid the constant frenzy of the city, moments of spectacle appeared: a Hasidic Cybertruck cop car parked on the street. The rest of my ride I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I also wonder where you charge electric cars in the city, do you always go to charging stations or wire it from your apartment? Thoughts like this entertain my rides, “the bastard inside” by High Vis ripping in the headphones.

   Two campus security guards, a guest pass, and two students guiding me, I found this hidden gallery tucked away in a basement shared with an outdated cafeteria, its blue-and-yellow checkered floors sparsely populated with students.  I stepped into the gallery and a large white room of probably over 50 beautiful paintings hang on the walls . It was remarkable that such a stunning collection could be so hidden behind four doors and two security guards. 

    As I walked around I quickly noticed Dodd’s thinly applied paint and her dedication to avoiding overdevelopment, which became a liberating theme for me. While researching her, I stumbled upon a video that struck me profoundly—a short film from a discontinued web series called Maine Masters. The film had that essential VHS or miniDV aesthetic, pure and unadorned, encapsulating so much with so little; just a few minutes of footage, some archival painting references, and a scattering of powerful quotes from Lois Dodd.

   I had already been deeply inspired by her paintings, but this video sent me into a deeper spiral. Her rejection of perfectionism radiates a universality I have become to crave. Surrounded by a familiar foggy, damp Maine backdrop, she delivers a wrenching line, “The minute your mode gets into perfecting and fixing, the thing is gone, you lost it.” I feel this way when editing films, painting, or even cooking breakfast in the morning.

   This video revealed to me the essential beauty of the camera as a tool for documentation. The practice of filmmaking itself is a powerful instrument for dissemination, and videos like this show the impact of grabbing a camera and telling short undeveloped ideas. This film by Robert Shetterly and Deb Vendetti shared this universality I found when looking at Dodd's work. They seem to come from a place of intuition and feeling. You can't fix or perfect that.