Asking the question, “Why are we like this?”
The use and abuse of art in an imperfect world.
“I love titles that sound good in the mouth.”
The writer discusses growing up in the Borscht Belt, the prevalence of literary humor, and the power of feminist punch lines.
You are magnetic in the old way. / For Duchamp, the neutrality of objects / You stand in a room of your own design. / becomes a sort of anti-aesthetic
The Restless Souls novelist on reading his reviews, working as a medical equipment tester, and writing responsibly about war and trauma.
The comic turmoil of the mundane, with musical accompaniment.
Filled with hairspray and dog-smoke / and cigarette meat / at the meeting in the big town-hall / of the small provincial town of / sleep
The novelists on Vietnam, Norman Mailer, and the dragon’s perspective.
The canoe is covered in canvas, and something is trapped in the weave, deep under the shellac. A knot perhaps, or stitch.
Embracing boredom and creative constraints, Katchadourian tells of in-flight artwork and other conceptual projects.
A performance artist who grew up in the circus uses clowning, street dance, and butoh in playful and provocative combinations.
When I look at Jordan Kantor’s visual art, I think of poems.
“As writers, we have the tendency to get disgusted by our own filth and start throwing it all away, spraying disinfectant and removing words, instead of using creativity to construct buoyancy.”
Taking cinema’s portrayal of artists personally
“Comedy is a great vehicle for spreading the bad news about who we are. It’s also a mercy killing of the resistance that springs up whenever we’re forced to look at ourselves.”
“How do you draw information out if you aren’t involved and in love with it.”
Reliable uncertainty in Deb Olin Unferth’s Wait Till You See Me Dance