I recently was interviewed for the awesome website Gaycondo and their series 26 Interviews check it out! I discuss my strange career in pediatric trauma simulation documentary film making which you can actually see here
Also I've been been working pretty nonstop in film and with my music side project A is for Accident
and as if that wasn't enough:
For the past year I've been archiving my work on the site THINK/FEEL . From short films and video art to rarely seen paintings to my more recent passion of photography I've been logging my entire back catalogue.
It's awkward at times to look back but it's
important to do.
There are self-portraits dating back to my barely legal teen days to my more recent tattooed mustachioed self, which I must admit has been one of the most revealing projects (no pun intended). I have always been a fairly shy person and turning the lens upon myself in private was not something I thought I'd ever be showing the public. An illness in the early aughts caught me by surprise and I began documenting my weight loss and my increasingly exhibitionistic side life as a way to ignore what would later be diagnosed as FMS and also to ignore the implosion of a series of bad relationships. I know this is brazen self promotion but sometimes it feel right. I'm submitting two films to HUMP! the indie /amateur porn and erotica festival this year, something I have been meaning to do in the past and for various reasons did not. So if you wanna see the extremely NSFW films they are up on THINK/FEEL, but be warned much of the content is explicit or not work place/child appropriate.
What my statement and what others have said was this:
THINK/FEEL is the archives of a decade long project by award winning film maker Andrew Klaus. It presents one artist's continuing look at the lifelong relationships with his intimate desires, his work, his friends and lovers. What makes a body of work? What makes a body work? Are we not, as artists in society, our own creation? Are we not our greatest work? Our flawed failed masterpieces?
The Feminist Review