Issue 118

Durham channeled his ’70s activism as a member of the American Indian Movement into his artwork. Cirauqui and the artist consider stones, skeptical enchantment, and the pros of interrupting oneself.

Miller, known for his baroque paintings of consumer detritus, discusses his ongoing series of reality-TV celebrity wannabes with Liam Gillick.

Painter Suzanne McClelland discusses visual acoustics, marginal language and musical references with poet Barry Schwabsky.

The authors ponder the implication of immersing fiction in place—Chicago in the case of Orner’s new novel Love and Shame and Love—and non-place, as in the hypertext that accompanies La Farge’s new novel, Luminous Airplanes.

The linguistic contortions in Roussel’s work have influenced artists and writers from Duchamp to Foucault to Ashbery. Two recent translators of Roussel discuss his outlandish creations. Trevor Winkfield introduces the conversation.

Fudong, known for his his elegant, puzzle-like films, speaks with curator Li Zhenhua about his latest project The Fifth Night.

Members of the downtown theater company share their commonalities with Occupy Wall Street and ideas on alternate uses for plastic bags.

Artist and musician Stephen Vitiello on the cerebral, imaginative responses of Jennie C. Jones to the “the physical residue of music.”

B. Wurtz on the ability of Tamara Zahaykevich’s small-scale, handmade sculptures to draw out the details of daily life.

Mónica de la Torre interviews the late Elsa Baroness von Freytag-Loringhoven (yes, you read that correctly) in honor of the publication of Body Sweats, a collection of her uncensored writings.

Jenn Joy is confronted by the distorted anatomy and face of Heather Kravas’s Kassidy Chism.

Terence Gower opens the gray flannel cover of Stan Allen and Marc McQuade’s Landform Building, an architectural manifesto that rethinks “organic” as “geologic.”

Francisco Goldman lets himself become ensnared in the political nets Yoshua Okón’s White Russians and Octopus.

Zach Layton listens to Rhys Chatam’s return to the trumpet in Rêve Parisien, an album that features improvisation, collaboration, and a minimalist organ.

Nick Stillman points to Christopher Saucedo’s September 11, 2001 (Please Stop Saying 9/11) as an example of artistic retrospective through portraiture and branding.

Clinton Krute peers into the inscrutable world of filmmaker Hong Sang-soo, exploring the puzzles of The Day He Arrives.

Alexander Chee enters the bizarre universe of Daniel Clowe’s new graphic novel, The Death Ray, through an analysis of its central protagonist.

Frederick Tuten explores the implications behind Jenny Diski’s new book, What I Don’t Know About Animals. Containing elements of memoir, travelogue, and investigative journalism, the text is also a love story.

Andrew Lampert discusses You Are Now Running On Reserve Battery Power, a new video that Jessie Stead has staged in the creepy, comedic universe of Chatroulette.