Well hello there, ghosties and ghoulies! Are you feeling creepy crawly? Me too! All I need is a big cup of our World Famous Pumpkin Punch and I’ll be ready to lunge into an audience of hand-waving disciples and kick them in their eager faces with my pointy-toed patent leather shoes, shrieking about reading diaries … Continue reading
“You have to wake up!” Wha wha…what? OH hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams readers and fellow Twin Peaks fanatics! Are you feeling like some hair of the dog and torch songs in the Bang Bang Bar? Me too. Well, let’s check in with The Return Part 6. What the hell is going on? I’m not … Continue reading
Well, I know I promised days ago, faithful Filthy Dreams readers, that I wasn’t going to do a tired old best of list, but Filthy Dreams is nothing if not inconsistent and unpredictable. While I was going to write another “making up for lost time” review of Jordan Wolfson’s show at David Zwirner, I decided … Continue reading
Stumbling, bleary-eyed, back into the outside world, the morning after clubbing isn’t exactly the magic hour. Or at least, not typically. But, Richard Renaldi’s photographic series Manhattan Sunday not only merely captures the still-awake but not-yet-hungover post-clubbing period of 5, 6 or even 9AM, but it also glamorizes it. Continue reading
Samuel Beckett seems like a good place to start. After election night on Tuesday, it feels like we’re living in one of his plays. I didn’t really want to write this piece–or any election-related “think piece.” It always seems egomaniacal and self-indulgent. But, I couldn’t find a way to avoid writing about our ominous election of Donald Trump. Continue reading
A nostalgic but not overly sentimental song, “Where Do We Go Now But Nowhere” mirrors the ghostly flashes of memories and ephemeral longings in Glen Fogel’s current exhibition What If I…Pretend To Be Your Dad at the Lower East Side’s JTT. Continue reading
In his collection of sleazy and very very queer short stories Tales of Desire, which features stories ranging from the shockingly early Dennis Cooper-esque “Desire and the Black Masseur” and the sublimely titled “The Killer Chicken and the Closet Queen,” Tennessee Williams bravely dives into the power of sleaze as redemption and transcendence in his stories “The Mysteries of the Joy Rio” and my personal favorite “Hard Candy.” Continue reading