Taking writing to the mat in J.D. Daniels’s The Correspondence
The eminent artist discusses her materials, “frozen gestures,” and the illusion of form.
When I look at Tala Madani’s paintings, I notice a peculiar relationship between what is direct (the manner) and what is ambiguous (the matter).
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.
So tired of being a man.
Most urban dwellers live within their own limit politics—a linked network of socially and economically circumscribed spaces.
In his first New York solo show at 303 Gallery, the 26-year-old Canadian painter Tim Gardner works from his brothers’ and his own snapshots of their friends to create a vivid depiction of teenage male-bonding games glimpsed in the suburbs of Toronto, Winnipeg, and Vancouver.
My father got me drunk when I was 14, not too long after my birthday, and I have a scar on my forehead as a result.
Louis Edwards is the kind of sweet, gangly guy you knew in high school. He’s shy and considerate, with a self-conscious smile on his bespectacled face that turns quickly into a laugh. In conversation, he steers around controversy, avoiding the slightest meanness. His novel, Ten Seconds, is the opposite.
Two photographs of bodybuilders, one taken circa 1955 and the other circa 1987, by Bruce of Los Angeles from the Body Pictures portfolio.