Brandon Woolf talking to Cole Whipps
Brandon Woolf sits on a foldable chair, in front of a foldable table, next to a Brooklyn mailbox in New York. For any passerby, he is ready to write a letter on a vintage portable Royal typewriter. A chalkboard sign in front of him says: “Free Letters for Friends Feeling Blue.”
Six-year-old Cole Whipps stops by with his mother and wants a letter written to his grandfather, who was sick. He sits on a stool six feet away from Brandon, who drafts a letter for Cole after asking him questions on what Cole wanted to say to his grandpa. Brandon places the letter in an envelope, affixes a stamp, and writes the address given by Cole’s mother. Cole happily drops the letter in the post box.
Brandon has been at the spot for 60 to 90 minutes several days a week. Most people ignore him, but he gets at least one taker every time he’s at the mailbox, and sometimes there has been a socially distanced line. He has written more than 50 letters, each of them unique.
Brandon is a performance artist with a doctorate, on the full-time faculty of New York University. Inspired by the somewhat antiquated tradition of writing condolence notes, he is currently doing this sidewalk piece called “The Console.” “We’re all grieving for something right now,” he says, “whether it’s the loss of a friend or family member, a job or a routine.” His action is timed to coincide with “the heightened anxiety” surrounding the US presidential election on 3rd November, 2020.
Afterword: This story is based on a report in the New York Times dated October 30, 2020.