At New York Fashion Week this February, the biggest story wasn’t any of the actual clothes (although Rachel Scott had a banger of a debut collection for Proenza Schouler. I was particularly impressed with Look 9). It was looksmaxxing freak Clavicular walking in MAGA provocateur Elena Velez‘s show, then getting his ass beat at an after party. The street fashion also underwhelmed. Looking at...
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DAY ONE It is the cardinal sin of every writer who’s been based in LA long enough to wax poetic about the various versions of the city that seem to exist in conversation and contradiction with one another at any single point of time. A dilemma that filmmaker and film critic Thom Andersen more or less had the final say on when it comes to cinema through his, now canonical, essay film Los Angeles...
The Summer I Couldn’t Sleep Yew trees branched into my veins. Needles pricked my hands my wrists— needles punctured my chest, a harbor for a man-made conduit. Nothing stemmed my desire for you. Nothing stopped the waking hours filled with longing for— I am expected to say: Life and I say: your mouth spreading mine your fingers spreading every mouth of me open the entire sleepless summer I lay...
In filmmaker Ira Sachs’ Peter Hujar’s Day (2025), over the course of 76 minutes we hear acclaimed queer New York City photographer Peter Hujar (Ben Whishaw) recount the contents of his previous day on 18 December 1974 to writer and personal confidant Linda Rosenkrantz (Rebecca Hall), leaving no detail unturned, no cultural figure (ranging from Fran Lebowitz to Susan Sontag) unmentioned. Sachs’...
I’m a 14-year-old boy who hates art. I recently went to Wilshire Online to see “Away from Desk.” Here are my opinions on it. The show included: an audio device playing melancholy choral tones, a stripper and a pole, a first aid kit hung diagonally on a wall, simple...
You recognize it before you know what to do with it. A cartoon, a flower, a line that feels like it’s been there before. Kitsch comes to mind, maybe, but it doesn’t quite stick. Or it sticks and then loosens. The image doesn’t hold you where you expect. It keeps...
I parked my car on a random street in the nearby neighborhood, and as I was walking to the Venice Room, I passed by a place matter-of-factly called BREW. I had to peep the menu, because that bold, straightforward name simply struck me — naturally, they serve beer,...
All of Marina Stern’s work is weighty. The objects in her intensely matte, sleek oil paintings and densely packed graphite drawings receive an egalitarian touch. In contrast to often airy and delicate subjects—paper, string, and flowers—Stern’s quality of paint is...