He is still reworking old Guernica pieces today. And for the last four years he has been incorporating his grandchildren’s drawings into new work — Sebastian, Caspar, Anthony, and Emilia. It is the only part of the practice that faces forward: still happening, involving living people other than Jeff, with no clear endpoint.
“Getting hard to tell where they end and I begin. I think that’s right.”JEFFREY F. S. NEUMANN, 2026
This archive was built by the man who made the work, in the last years of his practice, so that the work wouldn’t disappear twice. It already disappeared once — five hundred to a thousand pieces, water and then bed bugs, no catalog. There is a room in this building for that.
Everything that survived is here. Every piece is photographed. Every piece is described. Every piece has a backup of its backup. The metadata schema is open source; the ingest pipeline is open source. Nothing in this record is invented: the years are marked as estimates because they are estimates, and every imagined exhibition is flagged as imagined. What you are reading, you can trust.
Asked what he wants a grandchild to know, he answered: “That they would be very impressed if they had the chance to see all the works in one space.”
You are standing in that space. Keep it open.