I had a three-way (phone call) with St. Vincent and Alex da Corte and their queer-pop, ultrasaturated bromantic love affair. Read about it at T.
Currently showing posts tagged NYT
I like to do one fashion piece a year. I don't like being caught mouth-agape in them. Read about it at T.
When we write about Henry Taylor’s paintings, we all use the word empathy. You actually can’t help it. The guy sees right into you. Meeting him was like a palate cleanser directly after meeting Shepard Fairey—he smoked and screamed with laughter the entire interview, and he said he’s so over reading about the lateness of his higher education or how he’s “loud.” He told me, “When you’re pressed for time, sometimes pressure makes diamonds, sometimes you just do the best you can. If I only have two eggs I’m gonna make sure I’m not gonna burn them motherfuckers,” and that’s a little scrap of treasure i’m going to reclaim from the cutting room floor.
I don't think I did the best I could for him on this one. I agonized for a while over one edit of three little words—i wrote that Henry Taylor is "a star player in the art world," and my editor wrote back "a star player in the art world for TK, TK, and TK," the standard placeholder for journalistic fill-in-the-blank situations. Sometimes you fail to come up with the right answer before deadline, but I think what it is, is the bluntness; bluntness of brushstroke, which reduces his subjects into these blocks of dense, saturated colors, and bluntness of his portrayal of vernacular black life both visually and in his titles. See: “The Times They Ain't A Changing, Fast Enough!.” Obvs, I went with "empathetic." Read about it at T.
“To live and create like Kathy Acker did in the time that she was living was extremely brave, and people don’t give her enough credit for that.” Fun facts about this piece: I interviewed Bjarne Melgaard in the middle of a slumber party in London and curator Jenny Schlenzka intermittently before and after the English channel on the Eurostar. Then after a pretty swell PFW closing party, I wrote it between the hours of 4 and 7 a.m., and finished the edits the next day on some Champagne estate. That's intrepid reporting at its most panicked. Read the finished product at T.