The Freshwater author on the ogbanje, Igbo, rejecting gender binaries, and using private journals as creative archives.
Portraiture as a form of mapping.
Two artists creating hybrids
Chris Kraus and Douglas A. Martin conjure the iconoclastic author.
“It’s about creating the conditions for a moment.”
Everybody assumes I’m one or the other, at first. Sometimes it becomes a game, a mental tally of points in each column, trying to prove the original guess.
The actors chat about performing masculinity, transitioning, and Blackwell’s one-person show They, Themself and Schmerm.
“What can’t I be in São Paulo that I could become in New York?”
It’s Corey Haim here—‘80s heartthrob, teen idol, and tragic girlish boy next door. What’s up, Schmerm?
“Radical spaces can generate and evolve ideas and tactics, some of which cross over into mainstream culture—and need to.”
“What expression isn’t a negotiation of some sort?”
Brooklyn-based Shelley Marlow, a first-time novelist, has created a memorable protagonist in Philomena/Phillip, a late-bloomer if ever there was one, a performance artist and researcher in 2001 New York.
Bond keeps expanding a performative repertoire that’s equally personal and political. On the occasion of V’s gallery exhibit in London, Episalla queries the self-designated “trans-genre artist.”
Poets CA Conrad and Eileen Myles discuss the past, Myles’s novel Inferno, and Modern Maturity.
Lori DeGolyer chats with choreographer devynn emory after catching a rehearsal of their latest piece,this horse is not a home.
Uncanny, maybe. Troublemakers for sure. Between reality and fiction, Rona Yefman’s Let It Bleed brings us the flawless collaboration between photographer and actor, in this case, the artist and her sibling Gil.
Walking the hardware store
aisles, past busted boxes
of finishing nails and mole
traps, he wonders if his penis
is still masculine if it resides
in a male mouth still warm
from casserole and coffee.
“Art encompasses philosophy, psychology, humor, politics, physics—a way of being able to talk about anything, while at the same time involving this thrill of perception.” Liz Larner
I’ve known Jeffrey Eugenides for several years and in several contexts—first as one of his readers, then as a student of his at Princeton, and now as a friend