Culture

Photographs: © Isa Leshko My grandmother turned 86 in June, and, since then, she has been having some health and memory problems. It’s been sad and frustrating to watch her in…

Note: This essay contains significant spoilers of the film Parasite. Unlike tangible objects, such as purses, eyeglasses and cars; or, how someone eats their food; crooked teeth, plastic surgery, limited…

Atop a white pedestal near the rear of David B. Smith Gallery’s main exhibition space sits a pink 13” x 13” x 13” cube. The artwork, titled “How many Pinkie…

Yesterday afternoon I entered the Nitehawk Cinema out of respite from the first day of New York winter to catch an early showing of Bong Joon-Ho’s new film Parasite. I…

Margaret Neumann, What You Want Georgia, my then 6-year-old daughter, and I clip on earrings and head to the Dior: From Paris to the World show at the Denver Art…

Dance of the cygnets from Swan Lake, the Bolshoi Ballet In May 1992, just five months after the collapse of the Soviet Union, my plane finally landed at Moscow airport.…

Edouard Vuillard, Interior with Red Bed, 1893, oil on cardboard Bonnard to Vuillard: The Intimate Poetry of Everyday Life Phillips Collection, Washington DC October 26, 2019-January 26, 2020 “I don’t…

This is a five paragraph essay about the five positions • This essay will explain something • in particular how dancer-choreographer Simone Forti inserted the personal in her work but…

Installation shot, The Fulfillment Center at the Black Cube Headquarters, 2019; image courtesy of the artists and Black Cube. Photo: Third Dune Productions Fetishizing the warehouse in America feels like…

The Gotham City of Joker exists in a sort of 1980s purgatory. By design, the film never explicitly dates itself beyond the Carter- and Reagan-era cars and television sets dotting…

A List by John Purcell     It is difficult to make a definitive list of Los Angeles films so this is a work in progress. There are too many…

Nuri İyem, a prominent Turkish painter (1915-2005), is best known for painting sad faces and Anatolian migrants. These were his signature themes. İyem’s good friend, the famous Turkish author Ahmet…

Here’s one thing. A man or sheep or meadow. Here’s another thing. A bell, a word, a drug. Because they coincide, somehow sharing space and time, they address and respond…

I am the wound that does not heal, the small solar stone: strike me, and the world will go up in flames. Had I not stolen that book, I most…