Pierre Huyghe, winner of the 2002 Hugo Boss Award, moves freely among different mediums, staging situations that while visually and conceptually complex, allow room for unexpected collaborations, both with other artists and with the viewer.

Both first-rate novelists, Frederic Tuten and Jerome Charyn grew up in the Bronx, meeting as teenagers at the home of Fay Levine, the Bronx’s own Elizabeth Taylor. The two reminisce after the release of Charyn’s novel The Green Lantern.

Courtney Eldridge and Ben Marcus conducted this interview in celebration of Marcus’ anthology, The Anchor Book of New American Short Stories.

When British sound artist Kaffe Matthews thinks about sound, she thinks about space, time, travel and radios strapped to bicycles. Her approach to making music is based on sampling her surroundings and capturing their sonic personality.

32-year-old Brooklyn filmmaker Jonathan Caouette has been documenting his own life since he was eleven. His staggering debut Tarnation, part documentary and part narrative, is a densely layered testament of Caouette’s life and that of his family.

Playwright Romulus Linney has been following Laura Linney’s career since its inception—he’s her dad. Fresh from roles in Clint Eastwood’s film Mystic River and Donald Margulies’s play Sight Unseen, the actress is working non-stop.

The relation of images is the crux of writer David Levi Strauss’s work, though it’s by no means a sedentary position. He sat down with longtime friend and writer Hakim Bey to discuss how images operate in the public imaginary.

When I say that desire breeds hope, what I mean is that desire contains within itself the seed of its possible attainment.

Those were staggering, broken days.

They have separate alarm clocks on their nightstands because she always needs to be 10 minutes ahead of him.

In the afternoon, Hollywood Ketsouvan-nasane listens to a radio describe the snowstorm that would arrive that night. 

. . . Castro’s coming down from La Sierra Maestra wasn’t the first time Batista fled the island, señores, no. T

Translation, like any public act, must be strategic to have any effect. 

Early this summer I went to the opening of Bill Albertini’s piece Memory Index (1999–2004) at the Alona Kagan Gallery in Chelsea. 

Part of our attraction to art is its ability to engage our imagination, and Amy Cutler’s highly detailed, yet carefully ambiguous portrayals of women do just that. 

Mel Kendrick’s studio has always been filled with tools. The place feels like an extension of his brain and body, a labyrinth of identity projection and maintenance where thought occurs through the manipulation of inert material rather than the coursing circuits of neurotransmission.

Robert Quine, former guitarist with Richard Hell & the Voidoids, Lou Reed, and many others—inconsolable since the death of his wife Alice a year ago—killed himself last June at the age of 61.

In 1972, the art collective known as Ant Farm constructed a time capsule by filling a refrigerator, which they described as the “open door to the American dream,” with such everyday cultural artifacts as candy bars, magazines, fake eyelashes, and a television. 

She is my earliest New York memory: spending the dollar on the Village Voice, poring over the pages, looking for her single image—quintessential, idiosyncratic, personal. 

For Cuban music fans, as well as the wider reading public interested in history and culture, Ned Sublette’s Cuba and Its Music is the English-language book to interpret the roots, offshoots, and trajectory of Cuban music and the creators and practitioners firmly situated within their surrounding historical and cultural context. 

Marjane Satrapi’s wry and matter-of-fact memoir, Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood(Pantheon Books, 2003), was met with great acclaim throughout Europe, the United States, and the world—everywhere, that is, except her native Iran.