On September 14, Stuart Sherman, performance artist, poet, and filmmaker, succumbed to AIDS complicated by pneumonia. Though a New Yorker by residence, Sherman was very much a San Franciscan in spirit and it was here in the Bay Area that he passed away. Known widely for his tabletop "spectacles," Stuart had been called "the shaman of the mundane" for divine performances in which everyday objects were manipulated, evoking complex, witty, and often pun-like ideas. His physical gestures and precise but airy use of language turned the mundane into a magical set of transformative associations. This same sense of visual and linguistic wonder found whimsical translation in a body of some thirty short films and tapes spanning almost three decades of creation. Elliptical but strangely familiar vignettes fill Sherman's films, revealing the surprise and humor of ordinary things. Sherman also appears in many of these works as both foil and innocent to the cinematic shenanigans. Village Voice critic J. Hoberman has said, "There is a touch of Keaton in Sherman's stolid, off–handed persona." To that we might add that he was as warm, generous, and impishly creative an artist as one might hope to meet. To remember Stuart Sherman on this Day Without Art, we will screen twenty–six short films made between the years 1977 and 1987.