How could anyone be done with Xanax? When the nostalgia bug hits and you can’t avoid compulsively revisiting imagery from a media-soaked 1980s childhood, who doesn’t need even just a little smidgen from a bar to quiet down the blaring romanticism? I know I certainly did while visiting Katherine Bernhardt’s Done with Xanax at Canada … Continue reading
“I feel a vague nausea stroking and tapping the lining of my stomach,” writes David Wojnarowicz in his essay “In the Shadow of the American Dream: Soon All This Will Be Picturesque Ruins.” I don’t think I ever quite understood the feeling of David’s nausea until this past week. It took everything in me not … Continue reading
I am always living between two realities. There is the reality of presence, of now and of exteriority. And then, there is the reality of distance, of timelessness and of interiority. These two realities–the reality of me here now typing on my computer and the reality inside my fantasy space of memory and dreams–feel no … Continue reading
Let me start by saying I identify as a queer femme human being. With that being said, I was saddened when I learned the “Leslie-Lohman Museum of Gay and Lesbian Art” is no more. Well they still exist, but have now dropped the “lesbian” and “gay” from their name. Gonzalo Casals, Leslie-Lohman’s Executive Director, told … Continue reading
To mark this year’s World AIDS Day, London’s Live Art Development Agency (LADA) hosted the first UK screening of Marion Scemama’s 2018 film essay Self-Portrait in 23 Rounds: A Chapter in David Wojnarowicz’s Life (1989-1991), co-directed with François Pain. Having spent the past two years immersing myself in Wojnarowicz’s life and work, I was hungry … Continue reading
Fatebe (“FAT-E-be”) is in the midst of the Lacanian Mirror Phase. “She’s starting to interact with her own image and own sense of self versus the drawing of herself,” says her creator, the New York-based artist Ebecho Muslimova. “[The film] Ex-Machina, popped in my mind; she’s looking at herself in a mirror, self-realizing. I feel … Continue reading
Can Band-Aids be beautiful? Yes, those uncannily flesh-colored, rubbery, sticky and potentially slimy strips that cover any number of sores, scratches, abrasions and ruptures. When singular, Band-Aids are startling, but bunched together, they coagulate into a congealed mass, yellowing with slough, dead skin, sweat, and scabs. Physically repulsive, tactically terrible, sure. But, aren’t they just … Continue reading
