For Lerner, Reines’s poems are “sites for irrational and transpersonal powers.” Reines, in turn, thinks of Lerner’s new novel, 10:04, as “Time Regained retold as The Odyssey in a best of all possible worlds.” Their banter touches on Whitman, poetic address, and “obliviating.”
The day after the gallery visit, I awoke with a lingering headache, alarmed by the sound of the phone.
With the intention of writing another of those works that belong to the ineffable category of the latest literary revelations, Nonici Murla brushes everything aside and begins to toil without interruption on his first book, a novelized biography of Gottfried von Gennrich, sorcerer in the service of Henri I, ”The Fowler.”
Phillip Lopate has had a good year, publishing To Show and To Tell: The Craft of Literary Nonfiction and Portrait Inside My Head. He spoke with Sharlin about humor, honesty, and his identity as a native New Yorker.
When asked about the triangles that populate his work, Halsey Rodman mentions, among other inspirations, the light beam of a flashlight in a cartoon—Inspector Clouseau projecting yellow triangles across flat blackness.
“You can renovate your soul and change your behavior and lie to yourself, but maybe the face is the last frontier of truth. There’s only so much that plastic surgery can do for you.”
Samuel Jablon engages artist Aaron Sheppard in a discussion about his new work the cake in the room, Alice in Wonderland, Jesus, and Miss Havisham.
Brooklyn poet Christian Hawkey and Swedish painter Mamma Andersson begin this correspondence with a rumination on memory, architecture, and turtles.
Shriver’s new novel, So Much For That, which deals with America’s health care crisis, is out March 9th.
The president and creative director of his own design firm and the force behind a range of interdisciplinary projects and partnerships, Bruce Mau speaks with Kathryn Simon about drift, vision, and his unique studio environment.
This First Proof contains the story “Harry Bellefield.”
Far from the imperium of treatise and consulting room, we dabble in the contingent art of persuasion, the gathering together and trying out of a personal poetics.
Fantasies of escape—from the doldrums, inadequacies, disappointments, alarm clocks, from the inevitability of the daily—take myriad form, most frequently geographical. To the seaside, to the mountains, to the suburbs, to Paris!
In the early 1930s, shortly after the invention of the portable audio recorder, the Federal Writers’ Project documented the experience of slavery by interviewing those who had lived under it.
From Moby Dick to Gravity’s Rainbow America has glimpsed the rare encyclopedic novel. But Luc Sante’s The Factory of Facts may be the first encyclopedic memoir, at once comprehensive and personal, erudite and intuitive.
A roundtable discussion on whether or not art can reverse history and the notion of the “sublime” within painting.
When I looked in the bathroom mirror this morning, a crowd of people looked back.