This website SITE is intended to offer an ever evolving insight into my practice: both as an artist and a worker. I am using the categories of Projects, Services and Collaborations to provide multiple entry points into my work. Ideally visitors will be able to make links between each of these sections, as an important aspect of my artistic production is recognizing the ways in which all of my labour (artistic and otherwise) overlap in ideas and ideals.

I am not restricted by medium, instead my works take on the forms required to best represent the ideas and concepts considered by each project. In many of my works I bring everyday items into the rarefied space of the gallery, and it might not always be clear what constitutes the work. My practice produces a minimal amount of waste.

I take on many different roles and positions in order to make it possible for me to make my work and my life sustainable. Gig work, such as cooking and preparing crew lunches, providing education workships, djing parties, working as a house painter or as a barista in a coffee shop, allows me time and flexibility to make work as an artist.

As I am not tied to any specific medium I often work with others to produce aspects of my work. This assistance is integral in helping me to realize my vision into material. With such a focus on labour in my work, it is important that these workers are paid fair labour costs when helping to produce work.

FUSE / The Archivist in the Kitchen

Basil AlZeri The Archivist in the Kitchen

Via Fuse Magazine:

Cuisine is a vivacious and mutable cultural practice that has history and politics folded right into it. The privileged eaters who make up North American foodie culture may often miss the specific histories of conquest and migration built into their eclectically global palettes, but they are present in each bite. Israeli appropriations of Palestinian ingredients and dishes are illustrative; for instance, the rebranding of tabouleh as “Israeli salad,” and maftoul (a small, round pasta made from wheat and bulgur) as “Israeli couscous.” The complex etymology of the word sabra, commonly known as the name of an Israeli-produced hummus, reveals a complex history of linguistic colonialism. In Arabic and in Hebrew, sabra is a generic word for cactus, plantings of which were used pre-1948 to delineate borders between Palestinian villages. More recently, in Modern Hebrew sabra has become the descriptor for Israeli-born Jews — metaphorically and literally, the beneficiaries of the clearing of the Palestinian cacti. In 1982, residents of the Sabra Palestinian refugee camp in Beirut, Lebanon were massacred by a Lebanese Christian Phalangist militia, in collusion with Israel, one of the most brutal events in the history of the occupation. The name of the hummus, so cunningly appropriated, can’t be separated from this settler-colonial history.

Palestinian cuisine — in Gaza and the West Bank, in camps and in cities worldwide —reflects a history of occupation and displacement. But more than that, it reflects the skills, proclivities and ingredients required to survive those conditions. Basil AlZeri has captured hours of Skype video of his mother teaching him how to cook from her impressive oeuvre of Palestinian dishes. This archive of cultural knowledge is the private counterpart to a series of public food-based performances he has presented since 2011. […] AlZeri began cooking live as a performance with his mother, Suad, instructing him from Dubai, over Skype. Most recently, AlZeri has been working on The Mobile Kitchen Lab, which he will use as an itinerant stage for future cooking performances. AlZeri performs simple and generous gestures, inviting his guests to identify the Palestinian stories of land, resources and labour that are built into his recipes.

Credits and Thank You's: