BOMB 150 Winter 2020
Deb Olin Unferth
“I can take any empty space and call it a bare stage. A man walks across this empty space whilst someone else is watching him, and this is all that is needed for an act of theatre to be engaged.”
Portraits and hauntings are inseparable bedfellows in film history.
On the 1973 feminist publication that gathered collective and self-help resources into one big, beautiful book.
The life of mutant-pop songwriter Peter Ivers was really something.
A variety of texts by a writer who fancied himself a power broker.
An interrogation of the ways in which the system of representation surrounding breast cancer can isolate, infantilize, and even erase the women it professes to help.
A look behind the scenes of Akhnaten, Philip Glass’s 1983 opera now playing at the Metropolitan Opera, in which the countertenor plays an ancient Egyptian pharaoh who defied gender conventions.
The artist mines the visual languages of virtual reality, contemporary dance, music videos, ancient Roman architecture, and West African shrouding rituals to create a “weird, metastasized utopia” of digital social space.
The poet’s new collection of essays, Minor Feelings, threads intense friendships, “bad” English, and standup comedy into a meditation on the Asian-American experience.
A radical “mirror game” between film and live performance, What If They Went to Moscow?, part of BAM’s Next Wave Festival, plays for two audiences, one in the theater and one in the cinema—then they switch.
On the heels of a theatrical run of Price’s evolving film Redistribution, the two artists discuss the ethics of streaming, artworks on the verge of falling apart, SoundCloud mixes, and the chaos of assigning cultural value in the twenty-first century.
Think high-rises, gated communities, all the places that give you a twitch of existential dread. The Amazon shipping facilities, the dying superstores, the prisons and detention centers, the pig farms, all the boxes that hold products and people and animals, the LeCorbusian landscape one skirts over or through, avoids.
An excerpt from Unferths’s novel Barn 8 (Graywolf).
When she was twenty, the woman didn’t think much about skydiving at all. It was an exotic concept and felt far from her life as it was, though on her walks to class she passed plenty of women her age wrapped in rigging, practicing their barrel rolls on the soccer field.
Of all my clients, I liked Wen Changbao because he never touched me. I just listened to him. For a while I thought of myself as his dog, simply because he was my first friend.
Girl C is supposed to be hard at work today but she keeps missing her stops, slipping. As the train falls out of view once again, she returns to her world of desire, instead of the world of transport and commuting and punctuality. She allows herself to float into the passenger car, and her pockets empty themselves and her clothing flies off-screen as per instructions provided one hundred years ago.
Elementary Poetry No. 1 is the first in a series of short artist books that the Russian poet, artist, and theorist Andrei Monastyrski (b. 1949) produced in quick succession in the spring of 1975 by drawing on typewritten pages with pen.