“Clothing does not simply cover.” Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Reading the introductory wall text for the Met’s Costume Institute exhibition, Costume Art, I thought: this can’t be happening. “With thematically resonant juxtapositions”….yes, this is an exhibition…”Costume Art invites viewers to perceive familiar works as representations in which clothing structures visibility and facilitates subjectivity, rather than as … Continue reading
Last Sunday morning, as usual, I blinked open my sleep-worn eyes, rolled over, grabbed my phone, and to my unending shame, opened X and scrolled. Yes, I look at X first thing, like a chainsmoker reaching for that first stick. I wish I didn’t, but here we are. At the top of my feed sat … Continue reading
“He likes hot chicks! With big tits! He likes hot chicks. I like hot rats!” sneers Tayler Lee, one half of my favorite musical gruesome twosome, Genre is death, on their cataclysmically cacophonous Zappa-referencing song, “Hot Rats,” from their debut album Talk. But what if you didn’t have to choose between hot chicks with big … Continue reading
A deep, creaking, warping groan. An echoing, bellowing thump. A sickening, spewing splash. This trio of sounds is some of the funniest I’ve ever heard. The source? A badly-in-need-of-a-pump Porta John, absurdly strung between two towering cranes, flung precariously 150 feet into the air like a norovirus fever dream version of a Six Flags Sling … Continue reading
When I traveled to Nashville in 2023, I spent most of my time running in and out of country music-themed gift shops—or really, one gift shop in particular. Sure, I also perused the Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline T-shirts at their conjoined museums. But it was the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum store … Continue reading
Can you listen to ear torturer/noise master Glenn Branca’s auditory assault “Symphony no. 13 (Hallucination City) for 100 Guitars” without macabrely dwelling on the horrors of 9/11 and, well, everything that came after? I know I couldn’t when attending the experimental symphony on a whim last Friday at Lincoln Center’s David Geffen Hall. The concert, … Continue reading
I haven’t curated an exhibition since 2019. It’s not for lack of trying. I was months into a show about nightlife with Fotografiska before they picked up their museum and left the city. More recently, I submitted a proposal for a trash aesthetic exhibition, an idea that made me so excited I buzzed my way … Continue reading
The biggest surprise in Gianluca Cameron’s full-blown foam-mouthed wacko novel You Know It’s Black, a book stuffed to the brim with unexpected and inexplicable brain-wringing stunners, may be the presence of filmmaker, actor, musician, unsimulated sex scene producer/anti-porn neuter, Trump supporter, and Roger Stone-rivaling Nixon fanatic Vincent Gallo. Gallo appears as the fittingly phobic one-night-stand … Continue reading
Throughout my years of writing about art, I’ve, of course, encountered many, many terrible press releases, filled with impenetrable jargon, effusive yet meaningless artspeak, and so much liminality, relationality, materiality, and space. I’ve rolled my eyes. I’ve sighed. I’ve cackled. Yet, it wasn’t until recently, with the overwhelming AI sloppification of NYC art galleries’ written … Continue reading
I cried in disbelief listening to Madonna’s “I Feel So Free.” Not at first. When I initially sampled the rip of the old-school radio (yes, radio!) premiere of the first track from her upcoming album Confessions II, “I Feel So Free” came off to me as generic gay bar fare, perfect for a Hell’s Kitchen … Continue reading