עשרת הדיברות

On the wide double-door of his professional Axima frigo, Currado Malaspina has a curious grouping of post-it notes. Not your typical reminders of doctor's appointments or grocery lists but behavioral prompts straight out of one of his favorite books, the Old Testament.

The Decalogue has always been a source of conflict for my agnostic friend. Whereas he has no trouble with "thou shalt not steal," (unless of course it is a matter of someone's ideas), or "thou shalt not commit murder," he's always had a weakness for adultery. And though in keeping with the spirit if not the letter of the 5th commandment, (taking time throughout the years to remember his mother's birthday), he always thought that the 2nd, from the point of view of a practicing artist, was simply bad for business.

So each time he reaches in to grab a new bottle of Blanquette de Limoux he is confronted with a list of the top ten prohibitions of the ancients. It's a sobering salute to the aesthetics of the taboo.

Constraint and obstruction are  not your typical Malaspina tropes and it's hard to say whether these idiosyncratic allusions are meant to be reverential or ironic. A large lithograph depicting commandment no. 4 was recently bought by an anonymous representative of the Viljandene hasidim of Kirias Lilith, New York.  They've always been known to have a greater affinity for the burlesque then their neighbors the Bobover.