Derek Larson wants your stuff to make art while in "lockdown"

It takes a special kind of artist to sign on for a "studio intensive residency" at Seattle's Crawl Space Gallery — a residency that's more like a weeklong lockdown than an idyllic artist's retreat.

According to the terms of the arrangement, resident artists must agree to be confined to the Capitol Hill gallery for seven days and nights, with whatever materials they think they might need to start and finish some kind of artwork.

"A hot plate, refrigerator, toilet, sink and air mattress will be provided," the rules read.

To Seattle-born artist Derek Larson, however, the Crawl Space residency promises a welcome respite. Hunkering down in one place without the usual pressure of errands and chores will force him "to be spontaneous" in his art-making, he says.

And he won't be entirely alone when he sets up camp at the gallery today for his weeklong sojourn. He has invited you — and everyone else reading about the project here or on the Crawl Space Web site — to drop by and visit, preferably with an object that he can incorporate into his artwork.

He's looking specifically for donations of "pre-Internet" objects or media — things that are now stored digitally that might've once held emotional or nostalgic significance in three dimensions. Photos, records or scrapbooks qualify, but so do less tangible things like attachments or links to music or video. As the world moves from physical to online media, Larson muses, "I wonder if anything is lost; whether it be aura, authenticity, etc."

A 2007 graduate of the MFA program at the Yale School of Art, Larson has taught at colleges in New Hampshire and Vermont. He's shown his work in galleries from San Francisco to Brooklyn, N.Y., and currently lives in central Vermont.

To deliver raw material to Larson, visit Crawl Space at 504 E. Denny Way, #1, between 9 a.m. and 9 p.m., today through Thursday. Or send digital files to him at pre.net.media@gmail.com. Larson's resulting show will be on view at the gallery beginning June 20.

"The end result will hopefully be nothing that I envisioned — because then I'll know I like it," he says.

Lynn Jacobson: ljacobson@seattletimes.com