Anthony Hawley

Anthony Hawley is a NYC-based multidisciplinary artist and writer. Recent solo projects and films have been presented by Residency Unlimited, the Salina Art Center and the Guggenheim Museum's Works & Process series. He is the author of two full-length collections of poetry and the forthcoming artist book dear donald... published by NoRoutine Books in 2021. Along with violinist Rebecca Fischer, he forms one half of The Afield, a performance collaboration for violin, video, electronics, and more. He teaches in the Hunter College MFA Studio Art Program and at SVA.

Boundaries, divisions, dualisms as well as themes of exile, identity, and empire’s orphaned territories—all pervade Disco Boy’s lean 90 minutes as it nimbly navigates the aftermath of far-reaching colonial enterprises. The narratives follow Belarusian Aleksei (Franz Rogowski) and Nigerian siblings Jomo (Morr Ndiaye) and Udoka (Laetitia Ky), all of whom are experiencing an acute crisis of nationhood and self.
Franz Rogowski (Aleksei), as seen in DISCO BOY, directed by Giacomo Abbruzzese. ©Hélène Louvart. Courtesy of Films Grand Huit.
Selections from the Berlin International Film Festival include For the Many – The Vienna Chamber of Labour, Occhiali neri, Kumbuka, À vendredi, Robinson, Três tigres tristes, and Myanmar Diaries.
Three Tidy Tigers Tied a Tie Tighter, 2022. Courtesy Chris Lyra.
Swimming Out Till the Sea Turns Blue, the final installment of Jia Zhang-Ke's documentary trilogy focusing on Chinese artists, premiered at the 70th Berlinale in 2020. At the end of May 2021, it had its virtual release in theaters across the US. The third part of an over-a-decade-long series that began in 2006, the film consists of 18 thematic chapters focusing on the lives and histories of four different Chinese writers.
Courtesy MK2 Films.
Maria Speth’s epic vérité portrait of pedagogy in action was among the standouts in this year’s Berlinale competition, a work that respects its viewer in much the same way that its subject respects his pupils.
Maria Speth's Mr. Bachmann and His Class (2021). Courtesy Madonnen Film.
The Criterion Collection's new box set assembles seven of the director's pivotal and recently restored works, occasioning a (re)encounter with the Hong Kong master’s cinema of longing and fragmentation.
Wong Kar Wai's Fallen Angels (1995). Courtesy of the Criterion Collection.
Just before worldwide shutdowns and travel bans went into place with COVID-19 spreading across the globe, I sat down with Brazilian directors Kleber Mendonça Filho and Juliano Dornelles on an unseasonably warm afternoon in New York City to talk about their 2019 Cannes Jury Prize-winning film Bacurau.
Bárbara Colen in a scene from Bacurau, photo by Victor Jucá. Courtesy of Kino Lorber.
Porumboiu’s newest film, The Whistlers, (2019) is a wonderful fusion of noir and poetic investigations into the way we communicate. While it tracks the story of a doublecrossing cop (also named Cristi) and several other parties in pursuit of a mattress full of money, it’s also a much deeper look at the way we apprehend signs and symbols, here via an indigenous whistling language from the Canary Islands. The film’s title refers to a group of thieves who are adopting the whistling language as a means of secret communication. As with his other films, The Whistlers is a work that is as enigmatic as it is entertaining. At the 2019 Toronto International Film Festival, where his newest film The Whistlers was having its North American Premiere, I got to sit down with Porumboiu and talk through some of this film and others, discussing, among other things, social roles his characters play, games, and the shape of this excellent new work.
A scene from THE WHISTLERS, a Magnolia Pictures release. © Vlad Cioplea. Courtesy Magnolia Pictures.
An old station wagon with wooden-siding drives across a hilly, forested landscape, grim, grey skies overhead. Telephone wires string together sections of land. In the center of the shot, a lone roadside ice-cream shop, something like a Dairy Queen precursor.
Image courtesy the Criterion Collection.
Anthony Hawley is a multidisciplinary artist and writer. Recent solo projects were presented by the Salina Art Center; CounterCurrent in partnership with the Menil Collection & Aurora Picture Show; and Spazju Kreattiv in Malta. He is author of two full-length collections of poetry, and in 2019, Print the Future Press in Amsterdam will publish his artist book A Book of Spells. Along with violinist Rebecca Fischer, he forms one half The Afield, a performance collaboration for violin, video, electronics, and more. He teaches in the Hunter College MFA Studio Art Program.
But in exile, from the ruins of your culture, you can build a weapon: a survival weapon.
Franz Rogowski and Lilien Batman in Transit. Courtesy Music Box Films.
Composer Missy Mazzoli is at the top of her game. Having just premiered her third opera, Proving Up, to wide acclaim, Mazzoli was recently commissioned by the Metropolitan Opera; one of two women ever commissioned by the Met in its 138-year history.
Missy Mazzoli. Photo by Caroline Tompkins.
Few canvases contain so much quiet dazed-out playful drift with such attention to minutia.
Stephen Mueller, Untitled works, 2004–07. Acrylic on canvas, 16 panels, 12 x 12 inches each. Courtesy Neuberger Museum of Art, Purchase College, State University of New York. Gift of Pat Steir.
It’s good to be reminded of our own impermanence. Even better when it’s done with grace and sorcery. The term “hot mess” has that effect, calling to mind the fact that we can be at once ravishingly beautiful and totally disheveled.
Sheila Pepe, Common Sense II, 2010. Crocheted baby and worsted weight yarns, rope, and community participation. Installation view, Hand + Made: The Performative Impulse in Art & Craft, Contemporary Art Museum Houston, Texas.
What exactly is a mechanism capable of changing itself? A mechanism capable of manufacturing its own metamorphosis? Perhaps it is a mechanism that could change itself, possess chameleonic properties, an ability and willingness to ingest multiple terrains.
Be they in the air (a balloon), something that houses us on the ground (an encampment or inflatable castle), or something that assists us getting places (a tire, a boat), inflatables make membranes over and on our surfaces. They tent us, cushion us, carry us, soften our ground; they dwell in forms that feel unnaturally soft compared to our hard-edged houses and bring awareness to our own edges.
Sergio Prego, Tetsuo, Bound to Fail, 1998. Video, 17:00 minutes. Courtesy Blaffer Museum of Art.
In G.S.F.C. 2.0 (Geometrical Sci-Fi Cyborg), hard- edged geometries filled with solid colors converge with organic lines to create vaguely figurative forms. While these figures might possess an actual leg, they’re denied the legibility of a human framework by the rest of their “bodies,” which are comprised of airy geometries loosely tethered in a kinetic fashion. In the painting G.S.F.C. #2, the form appears to be almost squatting, or hopping, with knees spread wide. The sharply bent knee in G.S.F.C #5 lends the subject a rather balletic quality, while the geometries of G.S.F.C.
Ad Minoliti, G.S.F.C. #4, 2017. Acrylic on printed canvas, 38.2 x 38.2 in. Courtesy Cherry and Martin, New York.
Midway through Jimmie Durham’s current retrospective at The Hammer Museum, a 1992 sculpture titled The Guardian (free tickets) offers the following advice to viewers: “May I suggest that we imagine systems in opposition to any concept of opposites?”
Jimmie Durham, Anti-Brancusi, 2005. Cardboard, wood, serpentine stone, rope, ink on paper. 48 × 17 × 31 ⅛ inches. Collection of Michel Rein, Paris.
Devoid of emotion or inflection, the speaker calls to mind computers and androids such as HAL from Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, Blade Runner’s chief replicant Rachel, or even Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation.
Agnieszka Polska.

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