Conversation in a Taxi Cab

I can hand-deliver this anywhere in NYC after April 30th when the show closes. If you need shipping, please send an email to mari@bymariandrew.com after purchasing :)

CONFESSION: Conversation in a Taxi Cab

For this piece I used a technique called ‘felted wool painting.’ It is a laborious process, and each one takes upwards of 20 hours to complete. I source my wool from a small family farm in North Dakota which is committed to providing their beloved sheep with a natural and joyful life.

Inspiration:

When I’m in the privileged position to look down at the streets of Manhattan from above, I see cabs speeding, swerving, or stopped in traffic, and imagine them as vessels of secrets, transporting our confessions all around the city (and then back to New Jersey). Cab drivers know where we’ve been and where we’re going, more intimately than most. 

They’ve seen us at our lowest (any time after 2am, and then to work the next morning) and our highest (wedding days, beach days, Labor Days, and all other “days” that permit us to splurge on transport). 

Drivers hear our most intimate conversations, arguments, and phone calls with our doctors. They’ve witnessed first kisses, last goodbyes, and all kinds of interactions in-between. They’ve made conversation with us while our speech is slurred and when our walls our down. We’ve told them secrets we haven’t told our best friends. Where are those secrets now?

Meditation:

You may have noticed that a lot of cabbies in NYC are continually talking on the phone via a Bluetooth earpiece, sometimes so casually and sporadically—as though the person on the other line had been sitting in the passenger seat for hours—that you don’t even realize they’re on the phone until you lean forward to ask, “Excuse me?” And realize they’re not speaking to you.

Cabbies get the best business between 2AM and 2PM, a tough time to stay awake, when most of them have families and all of them have real lives that don’t fit neatly into their odd schedule. So, drivers often talk on the phone with a friend to stay awake, or just stay sane. After all, "No one ever talks to me," one of them said. "They just tell me where to go.”

Few riders are up for a casual chat. The majority will look at their phones the whole ride, while a minority will be “complete fucking assholes” according to a Guinea-born driver of nine years. Speaking to his fiancée during his rides keeps him in the right state of mind.

So, if you’re up for a talk next time you’re headed to the train station, get acquainted with a cabbie. Chances are, they know much more about the city than you do, and have stories that will entertain you for days. Ask about their background, their opinion, their loved ones.

If you’re lucky, like me, one of them will show you their pet bunny named Brownie. If you’re luckier, one might teach you a couple words in Bambara. And if you’re luckiest, you’ll leave the car with a pep in your step and a smile on your face.

Or, you could just tell them where to go.