Futurists like Mayakovsky were never merely utopian or fanciful in their views. Instead, they believed in the power of art to revolutionize everyday life by transforming people’s perception of, and engagement with, the spaces and objects around them. Their world-making was playful, but it was far from just a game.
Worldplay: Gennady Aygi’s Love Letter to the Russian Avant-Garde Read More »
You have reel—reeling is a part of the process of healing and they’re both equally valid. You know, we should be reeling because of what’s going on right now.
Reeling-Healing: A Conversation with Teresa Fellion Read More »
I do not know how to shed my childhood, this old snake’s skin. My childhood weighs on my bones and hinders all my movements.
I am at the meeting point at the jetty by Mytilini Harbor just after 8 am. A lone slender bearded figure sits and smokes by the quai (he is H___ the barber, I learn later). Instead of approaching I retreat to dash off a sketch of the harbor mouth and a little coast guard tug against the rising terrain.
Dispatches From Lesvos Read More »
A pencil. A piece of wood encasing a graphite core that can draw in a thousand hues of grey and black. The memory of the first attempt at writing, the hardness of the wood between uncertain fingers, the exertion of small force on the paper and finally, carefully drawn marks of different thicknesses and angles. Joanna Concejo’s many works evoke this forgotten memory of our graphite past.
Found Fairy Tales: On the Art of Joanna Concejo Read More »
After my dad died and my mom’s worsening dementia forced her into a care facility, it fell to my sister and me to clean out their house. When we walked inside, it was like uncovering an intact archaeological site. My dad’s closet was still filled with his fleece jackets and golf shirts. Inside the pantry, opened bags of potato chips and crackers were sealed with clips. I expected my mom to walk into the kitchen, grab the half-used bottle of Windex from the shelf and clean the table.
Discovering a new sport, learning the language of this sport and its rules, is not easy in the beginning. I have played soccer for fourteen years. I still play, but one day all of that stopped.
Formidable Adaptation Read More »
For those not familiar, the Theorizing Zombiism Conference invites scholars from all over the world to present academic research related to the subject of the zombie. I was attending to engage in research for a creative thesis of poems that utilized the currently popular Hollywood monster with a long complex Black history.
Three Postcards From Around the World: Travel Narratives from the MQR Readers Read More »
The task was, on the surface, a straightforward one: the student authors and translators, all English-language learners, would chronicle their experiences in one language and transpose them into another. They would carry their stories, as they had done their own bodies, into a context legible to their newly imagined audiences.
Walking up to a large, colorful brick building with art pasted to the windows, I realized that I had always passed by the center without properly seeing it. I learned about the Neutral Zone’s youth-driven programs, including sound-mixing classes, poetry workshops, and a printing press called Red Beard, which I would come to know and love in the coming year.
A Brick House for Books: Lillian Li on Writing with the Youth of the Neutral Zone Read More »
