McKenzie Wark

McKenzie Wark is the author, among other things, of Reverse Cowgirl (Semiotexte), Raving (Duke) and Love and Money, Sex and Death (Verso). She teaches at the New School in New York City.

Sin Wai Kin brings fantasy to life through storytelling and moving image, performance and writing. Their work realizes alternate worlds to describe lived experiences of desire, identification, and consciousness. Sin’s film, A Dream of Wholeness in Parts (2021) was nominated for the 2022 Turner Prize, as well as screened at the British Film Institute’s 65th London Film Festival. Their work has been featured in solo and group exhibitions internationally. In mid-February Sin joined McKenzie Wark on the New Social Environment (Episode 1160) to discuss their new exhibition, The End Time!.

Portrait of Sin Wai Kin, pencil on paper by Phong H. Bui.

The Surrealists were my first avant-garde. I got my hands on Maurice Nadeau’s History of Surrealism (1965) at an impressionable age. I was familiar with the painters already, but it was from Nadeau that I learned that it was a movement of artists in all media whose aim was to change life, as Rimbaud said.

Aria Dean is an artist who works in multiple media. Her interest in materialist and structural film has always been an intellectual base, and in her new film Abattoir, U.S.A.! she builds upon that base in ways that expand her creative practice. Dean speaks with McKenzie Wark about the connection between her earlier film and her newest piece, the importance of collaboration, and the challenges of being an artist who is also a noted writer.
Portrait of Aria Dean, pencil on paper by Phong H. Bui.
The year before COVID-19 arrived in New York, I felt like I was finally getting to live my life. I’d come out as a transsexual woman, gone on hormones, made a few other changes, big and small. I was enjoying being out in the world.
Portrait of McKenzie Wark, pencil on paper by Phong H. Bui
McKenzie Wark speaks with artist Lyle Ashton Harris about archives, gesture, and applying pressure.
Portrait of Lyle Ashton Harris, pencil on paper by Phong H. Bui.
Magical realism has become something of a sappy genre. The book that really put the genre on the map, Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967), was not sentimental. Its magical dimension derived from the attempt to find a fictional form for a moment of real violence: the massacre of 3,000 striking United Fruit Company banana plantation workers in 1928.
Kathy Acker is a writer whose readership has never gone away, even after her death at age 50 in 1997. There’s some strange margin of the literary world where queers, punks, riot girls and avant-gardists have found reasons to keep turning to her.
Kathy Brew, Portraits of Kathy Acker, San Francisco, 1991. © Kathy Brew.
In these times, we are constantly assaulted with news so monotonously predictable that it cannot possibly be true. The war goes on. Corruption rules. The economy teeters.
“Not Yet”: On the novels of Kenneth Fearing

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