“I think photographs take the richness of our temporality and reduce it.”
A portfolio of Lisa Hoke by Betsy Sussler, concerning Hoke’s sculptures.
He is the consummate media junkie, overflowing with pop references, a veritable lexicon of trivia and kitsch.
“I experiment a lot, it’s true. I like to try a lot of things, and repetition is not one of my favorites.”
With five titles short-listed for National Book Awards, and the fiction prize for Them in 1970, Joyce Carol Oates has been one of the presiding voices of American literature for the past four decades.
Liza Béar directed the film Force of Circumstance, a political drama set in the infamous city of Casablanca and Washington DC. Her body of work of short films consist of Oued Nefifik: A Foreign Movie, Lost Oasis, and Earthglow.
Bleak balladeer Nick Cave discusses his foray into fiction writing with Lindzee Smith.
“When you see a film, you can analyze the director. You know if they’re emphatic, energetic, sensitive or not, empty or full. Everything. To direct you are naked, absolutely.”
“I always said what distinguishes great writers is their infinite compassion.”
“People measure the success of theater by how completely they get off while they’re there. It’s like sex: if you don’t get off, then there was something incomplete about it.” Leonard Shapiro
From the fantastical Gotham City in Batman, to Vietnam War-scapes in England in Full Metal Jacket, Furst’s imagination and technical brilliance played an indispensable role in ushering in a new era of production design.
Christopher Brown pictures paint as a material and narrative vehicle. Thomas Bolt discusses this direct approach and its refreshing bluntness with the artist.
I. John the Cop.
“I don’t bullshit about what I did.
Maybe this time he would find it. Then he could be through.
Advice from the good doctor on how to survive in this Babylon
this “garden of longing sown with the seeds of ruin”
this unrequited howling for more
more of everything, of anything …
When the UPS man climbed the steps, tapped on the door, propped his foot up on the teak threshold, I signed on line 39 although the package was crumpled, although I suspected the shells were cracked inside.
Quietly, I open the locks and come into his apartment; I have keys.
Several still images from video, titled Installation, by Mary Lucier.
Mel Kendrick’s wooden sculptures record the history of their own making. Wood has a history inherent in its markings. So too, his work scribbles the process of its being. Cuts are marks, and shapes are cut-out and glued (somewhere else) in a wildly primitive and aggressively peculiar physicality. “The whole process is constantly reinventing itself … a composite of awkward moments …” The awkward moment between indecision and acceptance becomes, in the end, simultaneously their history and their present, a riotous balancing act.
Still images from Mary Lucier’s video installation Wilderness.
