New Construction is a full-scale umbrella made entirely of steel. It was created during a period when I was searching for an apartment in New York, only to find the city swallowed by unaffordable, hastily built condos. Downtown Manhattan, Williamsburg, Brooklyn—everywhere I turned was condo-villes: glassy, characterless developments that blocked light, disrupted neighborhoods, and erased the city I once loved.

This sculpture became a kind of shield. A response to the construction noise, falling debris, and the emotional fallout of watching your landscape change against your will. The umbrella—normally a symbol of care and cover—was reimagined as heavy, dysfunctional armor.

Like the condos it critiques, the umbrella is made of shiny new materials, cost too much to produce, barely functions, and no one really wants it.

New Construction is a refusal. A sculptural protest against gentrification disguised as progress. It stands as both a barricade and a burden—offering no comfort, only confrontation.