What, at this point in time, can we make of a man,” the narrator of Jacques Jouet’s most recent novella, Savage, asks himself.
Wendy White’s paintings are some of the most dynamic and edgy abstractions being made today. When I was first introduced to her work back in 2005, they were raw, brash, confident—everything that the art world was not at the time.
Campbell McGrath’s latest collection, Shannon, is a book-length poetic narrative about George Shannon, the youngest member of the Corps of Discovery a.k.a The Lewis and Clark Expedition. McGrath creates the unrecorded history of the 16 days George Shannon went missing from the expediti
Susan Y. Chi talks to Ian MacKenzie about his debut novel, City of Strangers.
Watching Claire Denis’s 35 Shots of Rum made me realize how difficult it is to write about familial love. It seems like it should be easy: the relationships we have with our family members are our first and therefore most deeply seeded, however most film portrayals come out as glib quirk-fests or histrionic documentations of trauma (or a combination of the two).
Miguel Gutierrez, an active member of the New York dance scene since 2001, creates solo and group performances under the moniker Miguel Gutierrez and the Powerful People.
Math artist John Sims kicks off his exhibition series at the Bowery Poetry Club tonight. Writer / curator A.M. Weaver spoke with him.
Nathalie Ours-Choussat is the Editor in Chief of A Magazine curated by…, which biannually champions the unique voice of a fashion designer.
BOMBlog’s Word Choice features original works of poetry, fiction, and art. This edition of Word Choice, selected by Jordan DeBor, features poetry by Jamie Quatro and art by Helen Brough.
Though “Prayer” uses the trope of natural disaster, I wrote the poem during a quiet, deeply private season of grief. Loss of any kind can feel, to the bereaved, as much an “act of God” as large-scale catastrophe. And certainly “acts of God,” both public and private, raise the classic existential question: if there is a “God of love” or a “Benevolent Spirit” behind the universe, why would he or she allow suffering and tragedy to exist (or have created a universe in which suffering had the potential to exist)? I suppose there are three responses: there is no such Spirit (atheism); or, if there is such a Spirit, s/he is either indifferent to human affairs (the Deist Prima Mobile) or unable to prevent suffering and evil (a sort of grandfatherly Benevolence, perpetually weeping); or else the Spirit behind all things is simply evil (unthinkable). To maintain belief in a wholly loving God who is powerful enough to prevent suffering but chooses to allow it for ultimately beneficent purposes beyond our present comprehension—this seems, to me, the supreme act of religious faith.
– Jaime Quatro