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MoMA Ready

MoMA Ready Is Vouching For Himself

MoMA Ready doesn’t care about keeping up with the perceived glamor of electronic music. He just wants to be able to show up in a white tee and black sweats to work, and that’s exactly what he’s sporting when he shows up to The Lot Radio to meet with NR Magazine on a sunny Thursday afternoon, and that’s what he feels comfortable wearing when he’s DJing all over the world. 

He’s ultra laidback while he tells his story. He takes his time rolling a blunt and gets too distracted to take a puff as he narrates the moments of trauma and heartbreak that led to where he is today. The producer is from Newburgh, New York — a place with one of the highest crime rates in America.

“I’m from a fucking horrible environment,” he said. “I’m not from a nice neighborhood in the suburbs. I got to art school because I’m talented.” He studied filmmaking in New York City’s School of Visual Arts before fully pivoting to music in his final year. Soon thereafter, the artist—born Wyatt Stevens—stepped into becoming MoMA Ready.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Does filmmaking play a part in your production process at all?

MoMA Ready: I have a very visual brain  like in full color. Very visual. I can see everything I think about. But I’ve always been multi-faceted. I got into art school with a four-legged portfolio. I was doing video work, graphic design, photography, and fine art. But I felt like filmmaking was a medium where I can express all those factors. 

Arielle Lana LeJarde:  Do you feel like coming from a working class background and not having the same resources as other students in school informs the choice to stay an independent producer?

MoMA Ready: Yeah, but I think it more so comes from not wanting to be told what to do. I would love resources. But even when things have benefited me, if people are trying to tell me what to do, there’s a part of me that’s instantly like, “Fuck off.” I have a rebellious nature, but not in the traditional sense. I’m not edgy and I don’t have a desire to be provocative. I’m not trying to shock and awe. I just don’t necessarily want to have to present myself a certain way in order to be successful. Why sacrifice my integrity if I don’t have to? I’ve gotten this far. I’ve accomplished a lot.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: How old are you anyway?

MoMA Ready: I just turned 30. What about you?

Arielle Lana LeJarde: I turn 29 next month. I see kids coming up in the scene and they’re like 19, so I feel like we’re old.

MoMA Ready: I feel like our generation is the most important generation. I like to think of us as a bridge between this old version of society and this new version of society. Older millennials are the reason why social media exists. So I have zero shame about being this age. I’m the perfect age because I have this knowledge that this older world exists.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Speaking of the older generation, we just learned the heartbreaking news that DJ Deeon died today. How did he inspire you and your music?

MoMA Ready: It shouldn’t be a thing where people like DJ Deeon and Paul Johnson are passing away from health issues. People who are pioneers should be as taken care of as well as big headliners. It puts a lot of things into question for me and I think a lot of people treat this as symptoms of how they feel about the people that benefit. Because of the narratives that have been spun out of capitalism and white supremacy in these spaces, the wrong people end up suffering.

DJ Deeon, and other people from his graduating class, created the foundation of the movement that my friends and I have created, and are even able to stand on. Deeon was one of the OGs that embraced us. He embraced all of us on an individual level. And he was supportive. There’s a lot of animosity for younger generations and he was never on that type of time. It’s sad. I wish I could have seen him live one last time. 

DJ Deeon is a big influence on myself and my friends in the rhythms and everything that we do. So losing one of my main influences is hard. There’s not going to be someone that comes along and fills it. And I don’t have to say this just to give him respect because he passed away. He was that before he passed. All of this just solidifies his legacy.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Why do you think some people in the older generation of producers and DJs aren’t as accepting?

MoMA Ready: I want to blame them because they’re adults, right? But it’s not their fault. They’re mad at me—or whoever that they’re angry at—because of the structures that I just mentioned. Not because of us.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: When did you start producing anyway?

MoMA Ready: I really started experimenting with producing around 2013, but I had tried way before that. It wasn’t really about making music until 2016, when I experienced things in my personal life that made it hard to focus. Music was the only thing that kept me grounded.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: What happened in 2016?

MoMA Ready: I was a victim of violence. I was suckerpunched downtown and the person broke my face. They kicked me in my face and I almost died. That’s why I have a metal plate in my face. It just made me recoil because a bunch of people that were supposed to be cool with me didn’t help me at all.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: A lot of your career surrounds your collaborations and your friends. How did you learn to trust people again?

MoMA Ready: Things in my life tend to resolve themselves pretty aggressively and serendipitously, so I learned to embrace that. I learned to take those steps on those serendipitous stones. There were also certain people that became consistent in my life and I just realized that nobody was out to get me. I have people I work with, I have my friends, and we all luckily can keep pace with each other. So I’ve tried to take advantage of the blessings that I have.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: With being in AceMoMA and having a close group of friends who are all equally as prominent, do you ever struggle with wanting to just be recognised as a standalone artist?

MoMA Ready: Hell yeah! I’m very vocal about it. I’m super honest and a very transparent person. I’ve even spoken to AceMo about it and all my friends. None of us would work if we weren’t singular artists. We all have to have individual careers. It’s important. But my problem was, I was putting my work into everyone else, so everybody started outpacing me in a way that made me wonder what I can do. I started just focusing on myself.

I recently went through a breakup that made me ask myself, “Who am I outside of other people?” I put myself into a lot of people. Then, I started vouching for myself because I realized nobody else is going to do it. What I contributed to the local space in New York, based on the proximity of being near me—because of my label, my compilations, and my efforts. I don’t give a fuck if it sounds cringe, but I’m owed. And I’m taking it now.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: What do you want people to know about MoMA Ready and what do you want people to know about Wyatt Stevens?

MoMA Ready: MoMA Ready is a persona. Don’t think that because you listen to my music that you know me at all. And it’s not because I’m trying to not know you. It’s more so that you need to approach me as someone that you don’t know. I understand that, especially with the way that I am on social media, I’ve built a lot of parasocial connections with my fan base. I answer their questions. A lot of artists are very like yeah, I’ll let you know what’s weird. Like forever. I feel like because I’m so honest with people in these questionnaires like people feel like they have a literal relationship with me.

About Wyatt Stevens? I’m a complete human being.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: How would you describe the New York City dance music scene and what is your part in it?

MoMA Ready: Shit. It’s a special place right now. New York City dance culture is now what people used to think it was. Nightlife has always been happening here, but I think as far as dance music is concerned, I want to say it’s never been like this anywhere in the country. I’m probably definitely wrong, and some old head is going to think I don’t know what I’m talking about. But for my generation, we’re doing a really good job of maintaining the culture and being expressive and making sure that the real is still here. I’m thankful to be a catalyst in that. I know I’m not the only one, but goddammit, I’m a big one.

Credits

 Photography · Sam McKenna

Kate Ahn

It’s Shock Therapy, Baby

Jasper Johns once said, ‘Hollywood is forever young, forever sexy and forever swollen with abundance.’ This makes sense when looking at the figures in Kate Ahn’s paintings. 

However, abundance in these works is qualified by searing faces and billowing forms stretching across the image and twisting in the frame. They are abundant in mixed yet meaningful messages, pained and charmed. Painting in series, Ahn depicts herself in varying stages of movement. Nearly always nude. The relevance of this nudity is open to interpretation. Still, Ahn’s subjects bring to life the late critic John Berger’s words, ‘Nakedness reveals itself. Nudity is placed on display. The nude is condemned to never being naked. Nudity is a form of dress.’

These figures are not just nude but clothed in meaning. They are overcorrections, pronounced perfectionism with an outcome of exaggerated beauty. A swagger of confidence sways on a bed, bounding between big buttcheeks and long legs, wavering between buoyant breasts and the torrential currents of bedsheet and brick wall. These forms are idealisations, idylls of what could be. They are powerful, exposed, fearless, and nuanced in nakedness, fiercely facing everything with glowing skin and stripy socks.  

Ahn is in Los Angeles. She grew up on the United States West Coast and has lived there for most of her life. In recent times, Ahn’s paintings have developed an ethereal strength. She discusses her work and artistic intentions are spread across the social and physical dermis of expressive geography. Ahn’s world is mapped around acrylic paint and produces figures that produce shock therapy that will force any white wall into submission. And they are also nude, but that’s only half the story. 

Billy De Luca: You are in LA right now. Did you just have a show there?

Kate Ahn: I had a show downtown at Gallerie Murphy — it’s an extension gallery of Terminal 27 on Beverly Blvd — and they just opened. I was there for one month, which was a great experience. It was very emotional for me because I sacrificed a lot for this show. It was almost 2 years of work, it was everything I had in me.

Billy De Luca: The commercial gallery scene can be terrifying. But having that proximity in LA must have been great. Did it get overwhelming having such access to your exhibited works?

Kate Ahn: Oh, no, I was even there after the opening a few times. I was so much a part of everything. From the paintings to the merchandise with Terminal27 and just the gallery preparation itself, I was there at every step.

Sometimes it is hard to collaborate and find people to take up your vision, but when there is synergy and trust, things always turn out beautifully. I also enjoyed being in the gallery to say hi to whoever came by.  

Billy De Luca: That can be a very personal experience. It changes the context when you see the person who painted the image before you. And how come you liked the collaborative aspect?

Kate Ahn: I like it, but I also think it can be challenging and sometimes divisive. I feel like I am also thinking about the audience and what the general public can digest each time I collaborate. As an artist, when you create your work, you can really just go all in. I don’t think about whether everyone will love it, but you have to consider that in collaborations. 

Having that restriction is also nice because It makes you think outside the box. You have to please other people and yourself; it allows me to have my art in many mediums. It isn’t just up on a wall: It can travel and transform into many different objects and forms, which is super exciting too. I try to do as much as possible within my freedom, but sometimes you can’t go completely explicit – for example, on a pair of shoes.

Billy De Luca: Finding that balance must have taken time. When did you start painting and getting into the fashion side of the arts? Did the transition help with selling your ‘ideas’ to the world?

Kate Ahn: I’ve been painting since I was  6, but I’ve also been into fashion since I was in my mother’s womb. A lot of it came from her. She’s always loved fashion and the arts and was the first person to introduce me to these worlds. From the outside, we are like complete opposites. But actually, I’d say there are more similarities than differences. I have this feeling that my mother sees me as a reflection of herself. Deep down, she’s secretly cheering me on and healing her inner child through me – even though she’ll NEVER admit to that haha. It’s like she’s looking at a mirror to see what she could’ve been (if all the rules and societal pressures didn’t alter or make her afraid of what she really wanted to do). I think I am my mother, and she is me.

But back to fashion haha. She definitely appreciates the design and artistic aspects of fashion, but I think she, just like many other people, is also attracted to the idea of class status that is prevalent in that world. This is where I’d like to think we differ: I love the art of fashion, but sometimes it can feel a little like high school. Personally, I don’t care about what’s most popular this season, who’s seated where, and what somebody is wearing at a show. Although I understand the allure, I just enjoy what makes me feel good based on my own narrative and understanding of each piece. 

Fashion has done a lot for me. It has helped me deal with the insecurities I’ve had my whole life, but it also gave me the freedom that I felt like I didn’t have. Clothing and accessories were my costumes and a mask. I wore it like armour.

Billy De Luca: That’s the beauty of being an artist, don’t you think? Fashion is in that same weird middle ground. It’s like hair. It will grow out of you and can get long enough to be another limb and part of who you are. But sometimes, it can get knotty and be a pain.

Kate Ahn: For sure. I definitely turned to painting to create these fantasies since I had such poor self-esteem (and still struggle with it). It’s how I cope to get through all of life’s bullshit. I think that’s how it is for a lot of artists. We are all struggling and trying to figure it all out. 

Billy De Luca: Do you always paint yourself? 

Kate Ahn: I have since I was 6. I remember one of my first paintings of a beach filled with all these girls, and all those girls were me. I’m not kidding. There were like 20 versions of me on that beach. But even since then, I’ve always encountered these “teachers” that did not seem to fuck with my vision! When I went to a bunch of art classes (a lot of them were Korean art classes), I had a couple of teachers who were very chill and open-minded, but I also had many teachers who were very conservative. One didn’t even offer figure drawing classes because it was ‘inappropriate’. I thought that was so crazy.

Billy De Luca: Where was this?

Kate Ahn: I grew up in Irvine — It’s a really nice area. You know, the suburbs. It’s deemed the safest city in America, with a huge Korean community. But I always hated it. I can’t think of a time when I didn’t want to leave. I feel privileged to be brought up in such a safe environment, but the environment felt so stale and mundane. One of the art classes I attended was 20 minutes away from my hometown, but the guy who ran the place was horrible. I eventually found another class that meshed better, but as much as I wanted to paint what I paint now, due to my age and environment, it really wasn’t an option. So I focused more on objects and foods that represented the female body and sexuality at the time.  It wasn’t until after college that I got to my self-portraits. 

Billy De Luca: Why was that?  Where was college?

Kate Ahn: I didn’t attempt to do my self-portraits until after college. The love that I got from my parents (after getting accepted into USC) felt too good to stray away from, especially after so many years of rebelling during my tween and teen years. So, naturally, during that time, I gave into their ways — which meant giving up art as a career. I went to school and went from art to Communication (with a minor in Finance). I told my parents — and convinced myself — that I would go into banking and make a lot of money. I thought that after that, someday I’d get back to my art…But that didn’t happen. I never did any of that besides graduating, but that’s something, right? 

I tried my best to conform, but it was just not in me. After my second year, I realised I was never going to be the person they wanted me to be, and I didn’t want it either. After graduating in 2020, I painted my first self-portrait. After my various jobs, I saved a bunch of money and said, OK, let me do what I want … I bought my first HUGE canvas. It had been my dream since I was 14 to paint on a canvas like that and to have enough time to work on such a scale. I was still shy and didn’t show my face. I marked it off. But the bodies remained. They were all me, variations of me or dreams of what it could look like. It became a fantasy.

So yeah, that was my first self-portrait, and it sold, so I thought, ‘I must be doing something right!

Billy De Luca: And how did your parents feel about that? 

Kate Ahn: They are still upset. I can sympathise with how they feel. As conservative parents, I think the subject matter alone would be difficult for them to digest. But on top of that, there is also a very real fear of their only child not having the stability that a more traditional career choice can provide. It’s not easy selling pieces, for sure. But that first piece was definitely something I took as a sign to just go for it. 

Billy De Luca: Do you think that painting is easier than the administrative and sales aspect?

Kate Ahn: Painting is way easier. It would be a dream to just paint and not worry about the selling side of the job haha. It makes me depressed sometimes, and it can feel like things are predestined in this industry. It’s so much about who you know. I ask myself a lot: Are these the things that make or break me as an artist? Do I need to be a person that can talk up my work or have someone willing to do that for me? Yes, it’s discouraging. But in the end, I can’t see myself doing anything else. I can’t stop what I’m doing, and I believe that if you really love it, you’ll find a way.  

Billy De Luca: Beforehand it was very much about the quality of the work and the consistency it bore in improving over time and being relevant in such times. Now, it is about self-marketing. You can have an agent and a Gallery, but if you don’t have a personality, then you can sell paintings all you want — but you may not be memorable. With your work, the images strike and transfer energy. Audiences have received that energy and are buying in. You can sell a painting, but you have to sell a self-portrait.

Kate Ahn: Yeah, I agree. Social media has definitely inflated and put this importance on not just your work but a person being an entire package. It’s like people themselves have become conglomerates: you’re the actor, the producer, the director, etc. Everyone has to become a multi-disciplined brand that must follow the fickle nature of social media. Like a walking billboard. It’s overwhelming, but it can be great because you can get your work out independently, cutting out the middleman like agents or galleries. But at the same time,  there’s a negative side that comes with oversaturating the avenues that lead people to not take you as seriously. I think of Andy Warhol, who essentially went for it and did it all. And unfortunately, having to deal with silly repercussions where some circles of the art world stopped taking him seriously for doing things unconventionally at the time. Fast forward to now, it’s kind of ironic how his way of doing things ended up becoming the standard today. Even now, it’s still hard to navigate what the perfect balance is between doing it all and still being taken seriously.   

And man,  there are so many days where I have wished I could paint anything else. Any object, like food or something. It’s easier to sell that as an idea. Instead, I paint really explicit self-portraits. And on that, there is a double standard. Women are in this really unjust and tough position where we are constantly objectified living in this patriarchal world, but the moment we start owning our own sexuality and our own bodies, we become lepers.  As much as my work receives a lot of love, it also receives so much hate. Even though we’ve been painting nude women for centuries, I think it is still very new for women themselves to be the ones painting our own bodies. I guess that’s too progressive even for this world haha.  

Billy De Luca: And what does that mean to you?

Kate Ahn: That’s one of the very reasons I continue to paint my self-portraits in the nude.I am fighting for my right and everyone’s right to own our sexuality and our body and control our own narrative because that’s a human fucking right. Sexuality isn’t everything, but to me, it is a representation of freedom because that was the first real restriction I faced in my life, and I think many others faced it too. I think women especially have to deal with the double standard of not being able to deal with the freedom of being a sexual being. In my work, I can own my sexuality. I can be who I want to be in my work. 

Billy De Luca: So it’s more than just you?

Kate Ahn: In a way, it is more than me. I think my work can become confusing as I am trying to fight the patriarchy, but at the same time, I am also trying to heal from my own self-esteem issues that may very well come from the male gaze. Critics could say I am just perpetuating the patriarch all over again, and I hate to say it, but maybe they would be somewhat true. But I can’t help the fact that being able to fantasise about myself in these various bodies and shapes helps me appreciate my actual body. It’s similar to how I play with clothing, I put it on like a mask and play this character enough to learn that my real self is actually not far away from my ideal self…it was just my anxiety and self-doubt clouding my brain. Maybe that’s unhealthy in some way, but I think a lot of people can relate to the journey of finding true love for yourself and that sometimes it takes unconventional ways to get there. And at the end of the day, I believe that by taking control of my own body and my own self-esteem issues, I still, in many ways, fight the patriarchy.  

Billy De Luca: Does the commentary influence you as much as it pushes you forward? 

Kate Ahn: With or without the commentary, the paintings would still be like this. But it does help my narrative. The more hate I get, the more my paintings will develop meaning. It just proves to me what I need to express in my work and why it’s important. Some people think I just paint porn…but for me, I feel like I sometimes do paint porn, and there shouldn’t be anything wrong with that. 

Billy De Luca: Is it hard to balance professional composure while being a human behind the work? 

Kate Ahn: Yah, it is difficult– at least for me, it is. I mean, being an artist to me means that you are choosing to be vulnerable. I know many artists that can keep the vulnerability strictly within their work but for me, I am, unfortunately, a person who tends to word-vomit everything I am going through within my work and outside of it too. I know it’s not the best habit. I know most people respect those who have that perfect ‘professional composure’ — characterised by a confident fearlessness, keeping their cool, even when shit is going sideways in their personal life. This might be completely delusional, but I’d still prefer to find a way to continue to be this open book and also be respected for it just because I feel like it’s so much a part of my character. 

Billy De Luca: However, having strong work which is the best thing that you put out at that time. That is what is going to be a huge driving factor. You might not sell. You might go from being very financially comfortable to financially uncomfortable. But through that ringer, one thing is still chugging along, still developing.  And that’s your painting. 

Kate Ahn: That’s right. And that’s why I’ll never stop either. The paintings are me. There’s no costume or façade or anything. It’s my soul. If I think back to where I was two years ago with my painting, it’s like…incomparable to my skill now.  So yeah, that helps me feel better. These feelings of insecurity have inspired me so far, and although I’m working on that, it does still help me produce. The emotions come out, and it makes the art worthwhile. You don’t have to be ‘healed’ to make people feel something — I think I’m just too hard on myself since the years are never easy, and there are so many constant changes. Even if it’s bad feelings, it’s feeling. If you’re feeling something, it’s art.

Billy De Luca: And what else do you see is changing?

Kate Ahn: For my new collection, I want to do more facial expressions similar to the whole 1970s erotica time period, where everyone looked so happy, vibrant, and alive. I feel like that is true for me since I’m a very smiley and happy person. I also want to continue to include more pieces of clothing and lots more socks, as that still is so much a part of me. I did do that a lot this year as I did, like… a lot of stocks.

Billy De Luca: I was going to ask about those…It reminds me of how men in the business sector ‘jazz up’ a suit with a sock. You end up being naked, showing the socks you wear, and they can be colourful and different, but they balance out the grey world of suits. It’s a stabiliser.

Kate Ahn: It’s an homage to my love of clothing…In a way that still allows me to be nude. Certain things go on when you conform to such a society. It’s so difficult to show your identity and be unique and yourself. So yeah, socks are awesome, and you can have so many cool socks. 

I’m obsessed with socks.

Billy De Luca: Besides the clothing, where do the colourful backgrounds come into it? Do the star-shaped pastels of pink and green come as afterthoughts?

Kate Ahn: The background comes later. I usually don’t know what to do for the background. That being said, I feel like it has to do with my inspiration from Japan, especially from love hotels.  Japan is just…different. I want the paintings to feel happy and alive. I learned a lot about love hotels recently. Back in the 70s, during the women’s liberation movement and just after they legalised abortion, all these love hotels popped up, and they embraced and nurtured the idea of sex and love. You can see it in the way they built these themed rooms and structures. It’s a fantasy that invites more fantasy. The beds are spinning, there’s colour everywhere, and the adult fantasy becomes a reality. And I love it. I love how it is accepting of the fact that humans are sexual beings. It’s happy and human. 

Billy De Luca: And does your subject matter and work rely on where you are geographically?  

Kate Ahn: Yah, I definitely think so. When I grew up in the suburbs, the constraints and staleness of the city definitely played a part in my work and also the person I became. That’s where you can see the rebellious nature of my work. And being that I was only an hour away from LA, it became a dream of mine from an early age to move here — which I finally did at 18. I think the environment here in LA is so nurturing to being different. It helped me gain confidence in my work. And the actual physical beauty of the city — the madness, the graffiti, I would say some of the strip clubs down here, too, have definitely inspired some of my works. 

Billy De Luca: Being in LA is historically seen as…intense. ‘Jasper Johns once said that Hollywood is forever young, forever sexy, and forever swollen with abundance.’ How do you feel about LA?

Kate Ahn: I think Jasper Johns is right. LA is forever young, sexy, and so swollen with abundance that I think it’s only natural to have this love-hate relationship with the city. You can’t be young forever. BUT maybe you can be sexy forever — depending on who’s looking — but living life in abundance will always catch up to you. That’s the thing with LA as much as it is a beautiful city, it’s also really superficial, but hey, I think you can find that just about anywhere in the world. I hate it here, but I also love it, and it will always be my home.

Billy De Luca: Last question… Does that solitude drive you to keep going? 

Kate Ahn: I don’t know if it really drives me. I think I am just so used to being alone. Being an only child basically prepared me to be an artist, you know? I think what drives me is that from a very young age, I had a dream of who I was going to be when I became a grown-up, and even though I still have ways to go, I am essentially living it. Even with all the people trying to bring me down and bet on my downfall, I will never let go of my dream. That’s what will always drive me to keep going.  

Credits

CRAP SHIT, 2023
TAKE ME THERE,2022
KATE #3, 2022
All Images courtesy of the artist.


Gian Maria Tosatti

On the responsibilities of the artist and the weight of history

Emilio Isgrò once stated that the role of the artist is that of navigating society out of crisis. If we see in his words any validity, then, we can’t help but see Gian Maria Tosatti as one of the most distinguished and brave admirals of the fleet that is now busy trying to sail us through the stormy waters of the present. 

Don’t let his beard fool you, he’s far from a ruthless buccaneer adventuring across the seas of the art world for mere pragmatic interests. On the contrary, he seems to have embraced a mission with broad horizons and rich in dialogue, as highlighted by his work as art director of the Rome Quadriennale and even when, last year, he became the first solo artist to curate the Italian pavilion at the Venice Biennale. 

Born in the eternal city in 1980, Tosatti indeed faces the art industry with the deep knowledge and critical consciousness of a historian, or to put it in his own words as someone whose first, priceless schooling was the daily stroll to school across the decaying and majestic beauty of the Imperial Fora. 

However, Tosatti has succeeded in escaping the academic redundancy that often defines those too knowledgeable about their own field, by giving birth to a distinctive and globally-acclaimed body of work. His visual art focuses on long-term, often site-specific projects that question the state of our society and identity, equally touching upon politics and spirituality. 

Listening to him discerning about his practice makes you reconcile with art, as a discipline rather than as an industry, something that has been for way too long overshadowed by its financial, voyeuristic and gossipping side. The conversation that sparks with Tosatti acquires a profound stance, spiritual at times, for leading us to question ourselves on the role of the artist in history and on its political duties to capture the present, willing or not. 

Lorenzo Ottone: You were born and raised in Rome, now you live in Naples. How influential is the weight of the past and history, both artistically and politically, exerted by these two cities for an artist like you who investigates the present?

Gian Maria Tosatti: Actually, it is not a burden. In fact, it is the exact opposite. The strong presence of historical and cultural elements in the identity of the city in which I was born and in that of the city where I live exerts a positive and helpful influence in the interpretation of phenomena pertaining both to the present and the future. In thousands of years of their history, men have not changed. There is a beautiful work by Andrea Mastrovito entitled Le jardin des histoires du monde. It is a story in which it is not clear at what moment in history certain events take place, because they continue to happen, cyclically. Living in a city with such a great past is like having a good schooling behind you. It makes decoding reality easier.

Lorenzo Ottone: The project that in recent years has defined your artistic research the most is Il mio cuore è vuoto come uno specchio (My heart is empty like a mirror), which aims to reflect on the crisis of democracy in multiple areas of the world. Is there any willingness to trigger political thoughts and actions by capturing our zeitgeist? Or, in other words, to what extent can artists subtract themselves from their present and from the broader socio-political context?

Gian Maria Tosatti: An artist can never escape his historical present. Even ascetic figures like Morandi are imbued with the feeling of the time in which they lived. Morandi’s painting is only possible because of that specific civil and cultural context. The question is not, therefore, whether or not one wants to give one’s work a political subtext, but to accept the fact that the artist’s role is to give back, with his works, translations of the spirit of the time, which encompasses every aspect of our civilisation. I simply carry out my task, the work that was assigned to me when I decided to join an order as ancient as that of the artists.

Lorenzo Ottone: You once stated that the spark – to a certain extent a vocation – that led you to make art came from a dream. How much room is there now for the sphere of dreams in your practice and how strong, on the contrary, is the willingness to capture the present with pragmatism? And how about spirituality?

Gian Maria Tosatti: Actually, as psychoanalysis teaches us, there is a certain continuity between reality and the dream. Sometimes what we are unable to tell ourselves in the mirror, we end up addressing through another reflective surface, which is that of the dream. My work is aware of this and, as a consequence, encompasses elements retaining a strong connection with historical reality – for example, creating a work in the centre of the Kurdish quarter of Istanbul while it was being demolished by the authorities – as well as markedly visionary horizons – such as filling an entire floor of the building in which we set up that Turkish work with snow, in June.

Lorenzo Ottone: Since we live in a fragmented society, rich in micro-scenes and ‘bubbles’, each with their own influencers and micro-celebrities, can art still cater the role of simulacrum of the present? Can it still narrate universal truths able to reach a broad audience?

Gian Maria Tosatti: Art can certainly do that. What, on the other hand, is very disturbing is this disordered polyphony of voices belonging not so much to the many ‘art lovers’, but to people who understand very little about art and demonstrate this by cheering for some artists and hating others, speaking well of some and badly of others, supporting some and doing everything to discredit others. All this has profoundly changed the art world compared to past decades. In the recent golden years of Italian art, the 1960s and 1970s, one certainly preferred some artists to others, but one had respect for all of them. They were held in esteem because, even if they were far from our specific inclinations (conceptualism, figurative painting, sound-art, performance), they were recognised as having authority and mastery in their field. Today, however, artists are seen as a band of miracle workers, runaways, who owe everything to the support of some gallery owner or patron. If we esteem them, they are our ‘protégés’ (hence, inferiors anyway), if we do not esteem them, they are ‘impostors’. 

The sad thing is that this very mindset now applies not only to those who came to the art world for reasons of social status, but also to the professionals themselves. There are curators who snobbishly refuse to go and see the work of certain artists, as if those works did not deserve the attention of their gaze. Even worse, there are artists who talk about other artists as if they were thieves, without realising that, in doing so, they are discrediting their own work, because as Rilke said, even just to get a single verse out of the soul requires discipline that still deserves our respect and attention. Personally, I am happy that through Quadriennale, in this three-year period, I have brought attention to the work of many – regardless of preference – and that I have also fought to critically and financially support the work of other artists who have publicly spoken very ungenerous words against me or have taken political positions by signing petitions against me. I believe, in this way, that I have done what was right, distancing myself from an opportunistic and vulgar bourgeois art system.

Lorenzo Ottone: Over the years, you have adopted multiple techniques and chosen a range of mediums to express yourself, even touching upon music. I am thinking about the gramophones that you have also played on stage with Vinicio Capossela. How much does multidisciplinarity define your artistic identity and practice?

Gian Maria Tosatti: Italian artists have always been extremely eclectic. Think of Leonardo Da Vinci, think of Bernini, a fantastic theatre director as well as architect, painter and sculptor. Think of Michelangelo Buonarroti’s verses that we have studied together with those of the greatest poets at the turn of the 15th and 16th centuries. And then again to Pasolini, film director, playwright, poet, columnist for Corriere della Sera. It is the specificity of our cultural tradition. Since the art system has become mainly Anglo-American, we tend to compartmentalise more. I’ve got nothing against it, but I do not belong to that cultural tradition. And if we all conformed to the same model, I think we would lose almost all of what makes us rich because we are different. 

Italy has felt like a province for a long time. It is the fault of wrong choices made by our cultural industry, which self-destructed in the 1980s, and of many supposed intellectuals – I am thinking of several curators with international careers – who have been blatantly ashamed of their country, as if Italy actually was a remote province of the artistic universe. Fortunately, this is not the case. Italy has had little to no influence for forty years, it is true, but this is an insignificant amount of time if compared to the history of our civilisation. The strength of our cultural specificity is still great. And it is a good thing that today other countries or continents – I am thinking of Africa, which is working magnificently – have also raised their heads in the global cultural system, because this can lead to exciting comparisons and to writing fantastic new chapters of art history together. 

However, this is only possible if – just like the Africans – we can rediscover pride in our own specificities. Italians are cultural fantasists, because we are born immersed in millennia of stratifications. Simply think of the home-to-school route we take in the morning when children. It can be worth more than a degree at Harvard, because if every day we walk across, as was my case, the centre of Rome, eventually, we will not only get to know the Imperial Fora stone by stone, but all that knowledge will be inseparable from what we are. Of course, one has to have that interest. If one wants to be a footballer, perhaps, they will walk straight across temples, head down, as if they lived in Texas.

Lorenzo Ottone: Speaking of the requirements an artist must have, in recent years your career has been enhanced by the appointment as artistic director of the Quadriennale di Roma. How does Tosatti, the artistic director and curator, differ from Tosatti the artist? 

Gian Maria Tosatti: When I was a boy I had a particular regard for a great poet, T. S. Eliot. As publishing director of Faber & Faber he played a pivotal role in shaping Anglophone literature in the first half of the 20th century. The same can be said of Calvino, who played the same role at Einaudi. But in the 20th century, there were hundreds of artists who took on managerial roles within the cultural system. And thank goodness for that! Pirandello was the director of the Teatro degli Artisti in Rome. And the Quadriennale was founded by an artist, the only one, by the way, to have directed it, in its entire history. Today, the idea of an artist taking on such a role sounds like heresy to many. Instead, anyone who knows a little about art history knows how important the theoretical contributions of artists are. 

I do not want to go as far quoting illustrious figures such as Vasari or Leon Battista Alberti, the manifestos of the 20th century avant-gardes or a book such as The Art of the Novel by Milan Kundera, to make us realise that a world in which artists are confined to their henhouse, brooding over an egg only for critics and dealers to pick up, makes a poor and weak art system. Exactly like the one in which we are immersed today. I do not believe that my strong and stubborn commitment in the contrary direction will change much, but I am simply not willing to be a simple code, good for an infantilised society.

Lorenzo Ottone: To draw a conclusion to our chat, how is the heart of Gian Maria Tosatti today? Still empty like a mirror or full?

Gian Maria Tosatti: As many have said, from Fellini to Boetti – even Totò in a magnificent interview for [Italian state television] RAI, which can be easily found on YouTube -, in every artist there are two people. There is the actual artist and then there is the other, the one who takes him around. Fellini used to say that he would accompany Federico to the places he wanted to go and watch him do things that he would never do. I have learned these things over the years, reading their memoirs, but since I was a kid I have always said that I push Gian Maria’s wheelchair, I take him where he asks me to. Only as an adult, though, I understood what I exactly meant since then. At forty-three, I am an intellectual, a public figure who takes a stand in the newspapers, a cultural manager who knows how to renovate an institution, who has a strong sense of ethics and politics, whose heart is full of fantastic relationships with other intellectuals or people from the street whom I have always helped and supported as an activist. On the other hand, He, the other, is an artist, a man whom I do not understand, whom I do not want to understand, whose ethics are paradoxical, dark and crystalline, whose heart is always empty, ravenous and devoured at the same time. He is thin, very thin. I am attached to him and my duty is not to abandon him. 

Credits

Terra dell’ultimo cielo, 2016. Site specific installation.
My dreams, they’ll never surrender, 2014. Site specific installation.
Il mio cuore è vuoto come uno specchio – Episodio di Catania, 2018.  Site specific installation.

All images courtesy of Galleria Lia Rumma, Milan/Naples


Galcher Lustwerk

Abstract Universe

Galcher Lustwerk wants you to know he can do it all. The DJ and producer came from attending DIY punk shows in Cleveland  and noise festivals in Providence before settling in Brooklyn’s dance music zeitgeist. His 100% GALCHER mix, made of all originals, propelled him to prominence in 2013, and his multi-layered approach to house music has solidified him as one of the city’s mainstays, becoming a regular at the likes of Bossa Nova Civic Club, Paragon, Nowadays, and Good Room.

But the artist, born Chris Sherron, is more than Galcher Lustwerk. With a plethora of side projects that ranges from post-rock to techno body horror to ambient driving music, he proves he can do it all.

Weeks after the release of his latest Ghostly International project, LUSTWERK II, Galcher Lustwerk speaks to Arielle Lana LeJarde for a wide-ranging conversation about comic books, social media, and why the U.S. hosts the best dance music scene in the world.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: I know you started making music in middle school with Fruity Loops and then got Ableton in 2003, but I’m curious—aside from wanting to find Black music that didn’t have the parental advisory sticker on it—what drew you to electronic music?

Galcher Lustwerk: Looking back on it, I think I was sort of just into the, the, the sort of, I mean, like, the futuristic like science fiction-ness of it. Especially around that time that drum and bass and these sort of more heady genres were just getting a little heavier and more instrumental. It felt like I could absorb music in a more ambient way. It kind of felt emotional and I related to the way that there was no words or anything. I just connected to that on this abstract, futuristic, and emotional viewpoint. Also with regards to the artworks, the CDsm and the packaging, I was just super into that it. 

Around the same time, I was into going to comic book stores. That kind of tie kind of ties into that stuff being anime and robots. That was the zeitgeist [of electronic music], at least in the late 90s or early 2000s. Everyone was hooked on if they’re into like, electronic music, comics, and even skateboarding.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: What comics or manga did you read?

Galcher Lustwerk: I was into Batman at first. There was this corner store that I would  go to that had a comic stand and I started the darker stuff like Batman, Spawn, and all the weird ones. The weirdest drawings, I would be attracted to. Later on, I would drive to the comic store with my parents and that’s how I found out about Akira. That kind started making me like shift my focus towards manga. I think manga was on another level. 

I was I was also drawing a lot and had aspirations of doing comics at one point. Seeing the magnitude and the amount of craft that went into stuff like that was was really cool. It just interested me from a media standpoint.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: If you could create your own comic what would it be about?

Galcher Lustwerk: The narratives that I’m into are surveillance heists, mystery-type spy stories and secret agents. So I’m sure I’d have some to do with that. It would have an international feel—a globe-trotting jet set vibe. Kind of the same vibe I’m trying to do with music. I would try and make it feel substantial like Akira. Akira was huge! It had volumes. There’s something that’s cool about having that much of a world packed into into like a solid object.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Iif you were to say that you’re like creating a world with your music, what does that world look like?

Galcher Lustwerk: It just looks like the world like the world as it is, but maybe with an omniscient, detached, vouyeristic point of view. It would have a focus on perception, space and light. I have a lot of visual reference images and a lot of them have to do with being in golden hour, when the sun is setting and everything’s kind of hazy. I’m always sort of thinking about in the back of my mind, in a synesthetic way, it’s what I see by default.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: It’s interesting that you mention being a voyeur and futuristic stuff, but you’ve said in the past you’ve been shy about social media.

Galcher Lustwerk: I think I’m frustrated with how much time and like energy it expends. It’s hard to put a marketing hat on all of a sudden, and then focus on this whole other goal. With music, I’m just trying to finish tracks and put out the tracks. With DJing, I’m trying to get people to dance. And with social media, I’m just getting people actually pay attention to what I’m trying to say, period. So it’s like a frustration more than anything. I’m trying. At least now, I’m trying. I stopped using Twitter so with TikTok and Instagram, I can focus more. I do enjoy using TikTok and viewing TikToks. It’s a workflow thing and habit thing. 

I’m really like dragging my feet getting accustomed to everything, I guess. But when I think about making music and the artists that I do appreciate, they don’t really use social media either. But at the end of the day, I just want people as many people to hear what I’m putting out. So it’s not worth nothing.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: What’s on your “for you” page?

Galcher Lustwerk: It’s been like real messed up lately. I think it was cool in Berlin, but as soon as I got back to the States, it’s been really political and chatty. Which I like sometimes, but I prefer cute animal videos that I can send to my wife that we can watch and laugh together.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Did you see that viral TikTok of those girls getting rejected from Basement?

Galcher Lustwerk: No, I haven’t yet.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: It’s deleted now, but I saw it posted on Twitter and now I think about it all the time.

Galcher Lustwerk: That’s funny. I can’t tell you how that benefits basement. Or if it does or not.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Everyone was just shitting on it. Shitting on the girls. Shitting on Basement calling it a budget Berghain.

Galcher Lustwerk: I prefer Basement over Berghain any day, honestly. Once they got the studio in there, it’s been awesome.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Do you think people would be mad at you for saying that?

Galcher Lustwerk: I don’t know. I don’t care. I feel like they’re losing the power they used to hold. There’s a lot of other Berlin-based clubs that have popped up that are just as good and easier to get into. That vibe can be found elsewhere now. Berlin specifically has got the whole city behind it. It’s part of their tourism, so I think it’ll always be hyped up which is cool. I mean, it’s cool to have a place like that.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Do you think New York City is that place in the U.S.? A lot of artists have been saying they think NYC is actually the best city for dance music in the world, actually.

Galcher Lustwerk: I would agree with that. I think there are way more exciting things happening here than in Europe, at least for what’s on my radar. The youth culture in New York is just so huge. After pandemic, I’ve definitely felt like there’s a younger crowd that’s so psyched—they see what they like and they just do it. 

[In New York], there’s no trending thing necessarily. Yes, right now we’re into really fast techno, but our scene also has this South African influence. There’s club, there’s drill, there’s garage—and it’s all being played at the same time, which is sick. Berlin is just fast techno or trance. You’re gonna you’re gonna get the same genre for the whole night. But in New York, it’s always a surprise.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Back to your music, how does your recent release, LUSTWERK II, fit into your catalog?

Galcher Lustwerk: I wanted to call it LUSTWERK II because it’s a cheeky—in a way different—reality that would have been my second release after the mix. It was basically what I was working on right after the mix, the original 100% GALCHER mix. I had put some of them on the Resident Advisor Podcast and then a few of them were on vinyl. At the time, I was like really taken aback by the amount of attention that was going on and  just like not not knowing what to do. So to me, I’m kind of cleaning out the closet a little bit and bringing attention back to these tracks because they were never on Spotify or Bandcamp or anything. I do have like a bunch of stuff I’m trying to get out by the end of the year. 

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Do you read reviews of your own music?

Galcher Lustwerk: Yeah, I have to read them all. Just to make sure there’s no like errors or anything.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Do you think it affects you in any way or do you actually care what people think?

Galcher Lustwerk: I like reading the reviews, but I also feel like reviews have lost their significance a lot in the past few years. To me reviews are almost a comfort because you’re being validated and it’s not like the consequence of whether enough people like caught it or not.  There are so many so many releases that aren’t being reviewed and more people listen to them than the releases that get reviewed. It’s weird. The review doesn’t matter anymore, I think. I mean, it matters a little bit, but in terms of helping people make decisions on buying music, it’s it doesn’t really make a difference anymore.

Arielle Lana LeJarde: Is there anything else you want people to know about you, or is anything you think people get wrong about you that you want to correct?

Galcher Lustwerk: I’m comfortable in saying I’m just really multifaceted. Some people may see one side and not the other. There’s a lot of detail that I put into my work that if you pay attention to it, it’s rewarding. And that’s what I what and what makes me happy as an artist, is being able to put all of these abstract ideas into into a media object. 

Also, I got like a lot of side projects that are all separate concepts as well. Just to run them down. There’s like Macchiatto, which is kind of my post-rock thing. There’s Power User, which is a video game music-themed project. Then there’s this project called The Fock, which is my techno body horror project. I got another project called Road Hog, which is like music for driving. I have all those separate projects that I think people would people would fuck with.

Oh, also I feel like the United States has the best DJs and the best producers. I’m not patriotic, but I favor us in terms of just like how this music is an American thing and a Black American innovation. I feel. So I’m definitely pro- that.

Credits

 Photography · Collin Hughes

Shubostar

Between ‘Altered Egos’ and Virtual Realities

In the neon-lit alleys of Berlin’s music scene, Shubostar is a name that resonates like a pulsating beat. From the pixelated realms of computer games to the rhythmic cadences of cosmic disco, her journey is a symphony of contrasts. But what’s the thread that ties her gaming roots to her musical prowess?

Dive deep into Shubostar’s past, and you’ll find a young game designer from South Korea, exploring the world accompanied by the sound of early computer games. With just one guitar, one kick, and one snare – oh, Cakewalk, you beautiful music crafting beast – she produced tunes that echoed the minimalistic charm of MS-DOS classics and latter. Her favorite games? Princess Maker and World of Warcraft. Fast forward, and while her music has evolved towards cosmic disco, that simplicity remains. It’s not about complex configurations; it’s about a melody that lingers. Shubostar’s journey from a game designer in South Korea to a Berlin-based music sensation is a tale of two worlds: reality and virtuality. At the heart of it lies the concept of the ‘altered ego’. Altering the ego to be with peers and friends; altering your self-perception when entering the virtual environment of a second life promising game or an experience-engaging rave; but never altering her minimalist street style in fashion, that she lately embraced with the newest fashion collab of A Better Mistake and Telekom Electronic Beats: Altered Ego. 

Marcus Boxler: I am very happy to talk to you again, Shubostar, after we met in Montenegro during the Summer of Joy” festival by Electronic Beats. Last time we did not have a chance to dive deeper into your roots: computer games. You graduated in computer game programming and created music for virtuality. How would you describe the music you produced back then? 

Shubostar: Ooof, that was already 20 years ago! Maybe you remember the first computer games, their design, the feeling. The music was only one simple melody. 

Marcus Boxler: Does this have an impact on your musical style today? 

Shubostar: Probably yes, now that you mention it. Even today, I am way more interested in creating a melody, rather than a complex configuration. Even for the sound. Nowadays, I use a pre-set, when I create music. But, I often change it, because I know how it works. So the roots in computer game programming left their mark, haha. 

Marcus Boxler: Do you still play video games?  

Shubostar: Nooo, I had to stop! It was too dangerous for me! I had been so into computer games, it became like a drug for me. I nearly dropped out of university, because I was missing some lectures. 

Marcus Boxler: Ok! We will talk about derivatives for being addicted a little bit later, but before I want to dig deeper into the connection between computer games and your approach to producing music today. 

Shubostar: When you’re gaming you’re alone in the physical world. Of course, there are multiplayer games and even gaming rooms or tournaments. But mostly, you are playing alone. You’re alone on your laptop, but you are not alone in the virtual world. You are connected to others. It’s like being in control of a different reality, where the connection to others surpasses the physical reality. That’s the idea I pursue with my music. To expand the connection between people on an unspoken level – virtually. 

Marcus Boxler: Did you know that the term ‘virtuality’ actually comes from theology? When Christians talked about virtuality, they meant a non-physical environment that you can only reach via preaching or meditation. 

Shubostar: I know this state! I sometimes go into this state shortly before I fall asleep. It’s like trance. 

Marcus Boxler: Blending the virtual with the real. Speaking of blending, your music combines italo disco and electronic synthesizer sound in a very unique way. For your inspiration you mentioned the likes of Daft Punk, Air but also Alexander Robotnick and Daniele Baldelli in earlier interviews. Tell us more about that.

Shubostar: I’ve always been intrigued by things that feel real but aren’t present. Like space. It’s there, but we don’t really feel it. The universe is expanding every second we exist, but we don’t feel any of it. At least, not in a way we can articulate, yet. It’s a reality, but it’s not tangible.

Marcus Boxler: And the Italo Disco influence? 

Shubostar: It comes with the synthesizer. It’s danceable, it’s uplifting. It came naturally…

Marcus Boxler: Speaking of things that come naturally: You are also the founder of a record label: uju records. Can you tell us the story of how you became a record label owner? 

Shubostar: Yes, I founded “uju Records.” It’s Korean and it means ‘cosmic’. However, the journey is way less impressive than you probably think. When I used to live in Mexico, I produced an abundance of music. Like, really a lot! The one percent of my favorite record labels that I reached out to and that – at least – replied, did not want any of the music. During that time I was living with my best friend who advised me to found my own record label and release the music myself. Easier, faster. He helped me with the logo and artworks and this is how the romantic story goes. 

Marcus Boxler: Is there a greater goal to the label? Do you want to sign other artists maybe? 

Shubostar: It’s all about me (laughs). The label was really just an entity to release my own music and not be dependent on another label. Also, I don’t want to put too many different artists into one shape, being the label. What I do consider, is to do a cosmic disco compilation. That would be with other artists as well. 

Marcus Boxler: Your style isn’t just limited to music. Your fashion sense is quite iconic. Last time we met, you were wearing a bandana top, wrapped around your body, combined with a – Id call it – mediterranean pearl look. What drives your style choices?

Shubostar: Yeees, I remember that look. It was a piece from the newest collection collab of A Better Mistake and Electronic Beats. It’s called: Altered Ego. I believe in expressing myself fully, whether it’s through music, art, or fashion. Usually, I love street style. But at the same time, I can say with a certainty of 100 percent: That I’m minimalist. 

Marcus Boxler: Really?!

Shubostar: Absolutely. I don’t like to buy many clothes. But whenever I choose something, I need it to be wearable for a week and not have it feel boring. That’s my measurement. It has to feel comfortable and I have to be able to wear it for a show or if I go to the supermarket. Wear it for ten years and exchange it, only if it’s ‘broken’.

Marcus Boxler: That is the core of Minimalism. I think we grasped a little bit of the real Shubostar”. Is there also an altered ego of yours, that you would like to share about? 

Shubostar: Altered me? I think every version of me is altered as soon as I leave the doorstep and interact with other people. No? 

Marcus Boxler: Indeed, but its the same you. Or, are you changing your behavior in the presence of other people? 

Shubostar: Freaking, yes! Don’t you? I mean I love to socialize with my peers and I love to bring an uplifting vibe and happy mode to the group. But sometimes, after a few days of interacting, I need some time alone. To recharge the battery. And then run the game again. 

Identity is representation, transforming communication into community. Picking up the phone with a colleague or with a friend sets a completely different tone, and therefore creates different narratives throughout all social entities. Though alone at her computer, Shubostar was always part of vast communities. Either online or on the dance floor. This duality of being physically alone but virtually connected influenced her style and sound. 

In essence, Shubostar’s music is where her real self meets her ‘altered ego’, creating tracks that resonate both in clubs and in the hearts of those who listen. 

Credits

Photography · Marvin Jockschat for Telekom Electronic Beats 
Shubostar is wearing Telekom Electronic Beats x  A Better Mistake 


7132 Vals

A haven of sojourn

The mountainous village of Vals is blessed by the grace of natural wonders. Rising above sea level in the Canton of Grisons, the Swiss idyllic refuge is home to thermal waters dubbed healing hot springs, their history dating back to the 17th century. Here once lay a sanatorium transformed into a spa hotel in 1964, brought about by the physicians marveling at the curing properties of the springs in the 19th century.

The entrance of the spa hotel ushered in a shift from medical tourism to leisure travel within the neighborhood, all the while retaining the suggestion of a place for alternative healing methods. In 1983, the municipality of Vals reigned over the hotel compound and tapped architect Peter Zumthor, a Grisons native, to architect a new structure to house the thermal baths. The mineralized water of the St. Peter spring had been luring in bathers for more than a century, but Zumthor’s architectural masterpiece for the thermal water’s new home further ushered the territory as a sought-after getaway.

He built a monolithic building made of raw concrete and 60,000 slabs of Vals quartzite, a nod to the archaic beauty of the Vals Valley, and divided the baths into six pools, spanning between 14°C and 42°C pools. Here, the stone architecture and the lush natural land enclosing it form a visual and spiritual harmony. From then on, the architectural community of Vals grew, forming an ensemble of sought-after hospitality and structures backed by the minds and craftsmanship of some of the most revered architects today.

Two years after the opening of Zumthor’s thermal baths in 1996, his masterpiece and the hot springs were honored a status of protected heritage. Yet as years went by, the surging demands of more sophisticated travel and tourism urged the community of Vals to burst forth from its cocoon. Avant-garde buildings began to appear, crafted under the hands of celebrated architects, namely Tadao Ando, Kengo Kuma, and Thom Mayne. Their presence has pronounced Vals as a haven of sojourn that welcomes guests to dip their toes in its remedial mineral springs and luxuriate in one of the world-class accommodations surrounded by the meandering hills, fragrant fields, lengthy hiking trails, and snow-capped ski slopes.

7132 House of Architects suits the name it was given. Tadao Ando and Kengo Kuma bring in the influences of their Japanese roots as they both steep the rooms they designed in the design ethos and lifestyle of their homeland. Ando pays homage to the subtle aesthetics of Japan’s tea houses when designing his 18 rooms and bathes each space with a transition between wooden panels and slabs. His balcony windows offer unobstructed views of the alpine scenery from the mountainside across the room, and his minimal use of furniture, other than a bed taking up most of the space and a wooden bedside table, distills any kind of clutter and distraction.

Similar to his compatriot, Kuma employs the tranquil aura of wood to envelope his 23 rooms in a sensation of cozy oakwood cocoons. He layers the modern Swiss oak panels, one slightly on top of the other, until it forms what may resemble dragon scales that make up the walls and ceilings. Continuity threads Kuma’s design. He places a lengthy slab of wood beside the bed which extends to the bathroom and where the basin and faucet are set upon. Here, openness follows as Kuma veers off from closing up the space and opts for an open floor-level shower with clear glass casing and a base of local granite. Showering means the guest affords a view of the bed and the abundant grove peering through generous windows.

When Thom Mayne’s design emerges, a sudden shift takes place. The architect, who designed 22 rooms, turns to wood for some of the spaces and black stone for the rest. He plays with the two materials, often letting the other win while ensuring they complement each other. In his wood-winning rooms, a sculptural free-standing shower stall stands at the center of the space, an attempt by Mayne to immerse the guests in a three-dimensional experience of space. Its lifesize, stone-like architecture is corralled with a luminous, milky film to enable the guest to see the outside from the inside. Stepping into Mayne’s Stone rooms, Vals quartzite creates a cinematic ambiance, occasionally interfered with by the warm glow of light concealed behind the walls and the lemon-yellow enclosure of the shower stall.

From thermal baths to hotel rooms, Peter Zumthor exhibits a sensuous journey physically and emotionally. His ten rooms are distinctive from his collaborators as he infused each space in stucco lustro, a plastering technique from the Italian Renaissance that produces light-reflective gloss and likens to the surface of marble. He selects a spectrum of zesty and introspective hues, swinging from lush red and vibrant yellow to illusory black, and melds everything with handpainted curtains made of Habotai silk. Luxury at work effortlessly infiltrates the rooms, coupled with the chandelier wrapped in what may be globe-carved stones. 

7132 House of Architects is an idle passageway to the entire 7132 dreamscapes. Before reaching 7132 Thermal Baths, guests may pad through  7132 Hotel 5S whose three penthouse suits on its top floor were also designed by Kengo Kuma. Inside the hotel, rare natural materials like wood dominate the landscape, forming a harmonious balance with the scenic grassland sitting outside the property. In another path, guests are led to the chalet of 7132 Glenner, an adjoining accommodation, which sits at the center of the village. Its traditional Swiss design blends well with the modern interior and rooms, an understated guest house brushing against architectural giants within the complex.

It is no longer a myth how Vals gradually received its namesake as a coveted destination and a welcoming respite in the cradle of Swiss nature, from the hotel rooms designed by revered architects to the believed curing property of the hot springs. Even if the guests move away, the lasting impressions 7132 has left them pulls them back in, inviting them to once again return and soak in the wonders of nature and luxury.

Primavera Sound Festival Madrid 2023

When we think of European summers and the festivals that define each month, drenched in sunlight with the heat on our skin, one such festival that joins ranks beside the northern titans like Dekmantel and Glastonbury is Primavera Sound. Initially beginning its legacy in Barcelona in 2001 and now for the first time in Madrid, the festival has become a pioneer in the events space, becoming one of the largest and most-attended festivals in Europe. Boasting headliners such as The xx, Tame Impala, Kendrick Lamar and Patti Smith, but also spotlighting smaller, local artists, it’s a place where creatives big and small come together and revel in the Barcelona heat.

With a focus on gender equality and their role in the sustainability of the location, this year’s Primavera Madrid debut is an opportunity to reexamine their track record of eco-conscious achievements and active gender equality efforts. In this interview, I chat with festival curator Joan Pons about the music scenes of Spain, TikTok-era festival etiquette and the broader subjects of inclusivity and sustainability at Primavera.

Is there a specific moment in time or influence from the music or creative scene that inspired you to get into the curation game? Were you an experienced raver or partygoer all along, or rather somebody more behind the scenes?

Of course. We have always explained (almost taking on legendary dimensions) that the idea of the festival was born from four friends, who at the beginning of the century wanted to bring the alternative and electronic music artists of that time who were not touring in our country. We believe that this initial idea remains: we still consider ourselves music fans and we still want to bring our favourite artists of our present to our home. More than a raver, personally, I consider myself what I said before: a music fan who has been to many festivals, of very different music styles and each one of them is enjoyed in a different way. Some are for dancing, others for sitting and relaxing, others for a singalong, others to surprise you and others to provoke new sensations. I think Primavera Sound, in the end, is a festival where you can find all these kinds of possibilities. In other words, we have made the festival in our own image and likeness.

When considering the rave and music scenes, Madrid and Barcelona might not immediately spring to mind for many. What is it about these cities, specifically the Spanish and Catalan music scene, that might draw more people to these places to rave? Is there a stark difference between the two?

I would like to politely disagree with the apriorism from which this question arises: Barcelona and Madrid are two cities that, at least in this century, have been very important places on the map through which almost all relevant artists and tours have passed. Proof of this is our own history – if we did a festival, it was because there was demand from the public, artists and industry. Also, international interest – for years now, more than 50% of our audience has been from abroad, and 30% from the UK. So we understand that if you say Barcelona, for some people, the first thing that will come to mind will probably be the football team, but for music fans or those with cultural interests, it will probably be Primavera Sound. Obviously, this cultural vibrancy and musical life make cities a hotbed of club scenes, concert halls, music scenes and important artists. Some of them were maybe born around the festival, performing their first steps and finally being headliners, like this year’s Rosalía.

You’ll often see on platforms like TikTok the discussion of festival etiquette, and that many partygoers have ‘forgotten’ how to behave or act respectfully during concerts and events. This was most likely borne out of the Covid lockdown, with a lot of Gen-Z’ers experiencing their first nights out and festivals without the ‘practice’ of partying in their later teens. With Primavera focusing on sustainability and inclusion at its core, how does the festival foster the environment of making people feel free to experience the music in their own way, while also recognising the need for respect and care of the artists and organisers?

The Primavera Sound public is very abundant and diverse, and there will be both aware and escapist people – you can’t tell. What we can say is that the festival is aware and doesn’t want to be a bubble detached from reality, and if some of our gestures, decisions and actions in this sense can help the public that attends the festival to be so too, then that’s perfect. We have done visibility actions and we’ve been involved with both Open Arms and Greenpeace. We also believe that by moving forward on the path of sustainability we are raising awareness among our public (such as the reusable cups, with the almost total elimination of plastics), with tarpaulins explaining the UN programme of 17 sustainable development goals, of which we have been part of since 2019, because the organisation itself made us aware that we were complying with many of them.  There are also pioneering initiatives such as Nobody’s Normal, which was born as a protocol to prevent, inform and act in the face of sexual aggression and is now a plan for the promotion of sexual and gender freedom. 

Finally, there are our identity decisions, which may seem artistic, and also speak of the reality surrounding us with an inspiring and transforming spirit: the parity poster, increasingly inclusive and diverse because reality is also increasingly inclusive and diverse, not by chance. We believe it is a duty to our time and our reality, and this is what our assistants have told us with very positive feedback that we did not expect after the first year of implementation. They said that they were finally at a festival where they felt free, safe and comfortable to show their sexual identity. So in the end, maybe we do have an aware public.

Primavera boasts a 50/50 gender and pronoun lineup from 2019. With the fact that many bigger industry names feature in Primavera each year, how do curators ensure that smaller artists, some of whom might be LGBTQ+ or gender non-binary, also get the spotlight, as well as financial support? What is the process for research there?

We believe that there is no small print at Primavera Sound and that every name on the line-up matters. If it’s at Primavera, it’s because we love his/her/their music, that’s for starters. Each artist fulfills their function, whether in terms of artistic balance or diversity. The truth is that there is not much mystery in creating an inclusive and gender-balanced line-up, you just have to want to do it – once you have that in mind, it almost works itself out. We also feel that the smaller names actually get the same exposure as the big names because the line-up comes out with all the artists at the same time. They share the spotlight with each other. Also, we create individual assets for each and every one of them and promote all of them equally. It would be disrespectful if that weren’t the case.

I would like to think that this year we have made progress in the gender-balanced lineup, because it’s no longer 50%, and we have taken into account 10-20% of artists who do not identify with a binary separation of gender. We believe that percentage will get higher and higher because, in reality, it will also be higher and higher. If in some way we manage to make this aspect visible through our artistic programming, we can only be proud.

The festivals obviously draw thousands of partygoers each year. In cities like Madrid, where there are issues with heavy tourist flows and the pollution and impact on the local residents that come with it, how does Primavera ensure that the residents of Madrid are not negatively impacted by this large presence of festival-goers?

We believe that our impact on any city that hosts Primavera Sound does not have to be assumed to be negative. In fact, in economic terms, it is highly positive for many sectors (public transport, restaurants, hotels, museums and leisure). In more intangible terms, it brings a cultural value to the life of the city, which during the days of the festival becomes more vibrant and with the eyes of the whole world on it. 

On the other hand, we don’t believe, based on our studies and attendance data, that Primavera Sound festival-goers are an annoying type of visitor to the city. In fact, when we talk about it with the institutions of each city, we tend to consider them as cultural tourism.

Primavera has renewed its partnership with the UN Sustainable Development Goals Campaign. With pledges like gender equality and education on the docket, does this alliance inspire Primavera to become a leader in this sustainability and inclusion space – what are you hoping to inspire with this alliance? Do you see yourself as an example in the festival scene?

We like to think that if we are really so insistent on the issue of inclusion and gender equality, it is because Primavera Sound is such a popular festival with so much media attention that we believe in and defend this policy. With this, it can be inspiring for others and ultimately transformative. Whether it really is, I can’t say. But it definitely would NOT be if we didn’t do it. About sustainability – although we received the A Greener Festival award, we know that it is a long road, a process which we will improve little by little. So, if we are an example to anyone, it is to ourselves: each year’s progress should be a benchmark to be beaten in the next edition.

Credits

More info · Primavera Sound Festival Madrid
Special thanks to Chris Cuff (Good Machine PR), Joan Pons and Henry Turner (Good Machine PR)

Tak Sugita

Tokyo One Day

Team

Photography · Tak Sugita
Styling · midori at W
Hair and Makeup · Katsuyoshi Kojima at Tron
Model · Kanon Hirata at Tomorrow Tokyo

Designers

  1. Full look MSGM
  2. Full look MSGM
  3. Full look KENZO
  4. Dress STELLA MC CARTNEY, shoes ACNE STUDIOS
  5.  Dress and Sandals ACNE STUDIOS, necklace JUSTINE CLENQUET
  6.  Top and Skirt SPORTMAX, Sandals STELLA MCCARTNEY
  7.  Full look VALENTINO, ear-cuff ±BALANCE
  8.  Dress STELLA MC CARTNEY, shoes ACNE STUDIOS
  9.  Dress JENNY FAX, sandals ACNE STUDIOS and necklace JUSTINE CLENQUET
  10. Full look FERRAGAMO

Lucas Christiansen

The Better Me

Team

Photography · Lucas Christiansen
Styling · Jeanna Krichel
Casting · Chisom Abuba at Whitecasting
Hair · Maria Ehrlich at Collective Interest
Makeup · Haneen Ajub
Set Design · Kristin Baumann
Model · Jojo Schneider at Tigers
Photography Assistants · Louis Headlam and Florin Elbel
Styling Assistant · Nutsa Khurtsilava
Retouching · Studio Gessner
Location · KMX Studio

Designers

  1. Top and string SELEZZA and bodysuit Stylist’s own
  2. Dress ZIMMERMANN, tights WOLFORD, boots BOSS and gloves Stylist’s own
    Ring BIMBA Y LOLA
  3. Top and Skirt NAMILIA, tights WOLFORD and boots MARTIN MARGIELA
  4. Coat SELEZZA, bodysuit WOLFORD and shoes MARTIN MARGIELA
  5. Top and Skirt MARINA HOERMANSEDER, tights FENTY and shoes SAINT LAURENT
  6. Top MARINA HOERMANSEDER, dress MARIE LOUISE VOGT, shoes Saint Laurent and bracelet Stylist’ own
  7. Dress and Trousers KILIAN KERNER, shoes MAISON MARGIELA and rings LOTTA DJOUSSOU
  8. Dress MARIE LOUISE VOGT, latex socks Stylist’s own and shoes SAINT LAURENT



Chloe Cherry

One Life To Live

Every few years, an ‘it-girl’ arises and claims her throne, crowned as such by loyal fans and social media enthusiasts alike. The contemporary it-girl is not only defined by her looks, but possesses the intelligence and self-assertiveness to back it up. Chloe Cherry is all of these things. After leaving her rural hometown of Lancaster, Pennsylvania to pursue the adult film industry, she shed her inhibitions and opened herself up to the world. But it wasn’t until a few years down the line that Chloe would realise just how much that fortitude would pay off. 

Before she knew it, Chloe had landed the role of a lifetime, debuting for the first time in the mainstream entertainment industry as the beloved Faye in the viral hit sensation Euphoria. But prior to morphing into her aloof alter-ego behind the camera, Chloe lived a quintessential life — her down-to-earth, authentic disposition is undeniable. Like many of us, she grew up sourcing fashion inspiration from YouTube and discovered her favourite beauty looks by experimenting with technicolor eyeliners and iridescent glitter. Her small-town upbringing left her constantly yearning for something bigger. After speaking to her, it’s really no surprise that she struck gold — in every meaning of the sense, Chloe is a true star. 

Even as a young child, Chloe knew she was destined to be seen, but her insular surroundings didn’t often yield big-screen stars. She reflects on growing up, remarking that Lancaster was a small-town environment, that she was different. She dreamt of bursting that bubble and making a name for herself, but she knew early on that she’d face some hurdles along the way. Luckily for Chloe, she managed to topple those hurdles through a rock-solid confidence in herself.

You were born and raised in Lancaster, PA before playing Faye and your life changing forever. I’m also from Pennsylvania and I’m very familiar with the restrictions that can come along with the lifestyle many lead in that area. How did your hometown shape you as a person and dictate your path?

It was definitely a small town with a lot of small-town values. People were very gender divided — where I live in LA there’s so much gender fluidity and we didn’t have anything like that. People generally weren’t as open-minded about things and I feel like even I wasn’t as open-minded about life and people when I lived there. They also don’t really think that much bigger outside of what they were born into. It was a very close-minded community that thought religion, specifically the Christian religion, was the correct way to live, and that you were just supposed to follow a certain amount of correctness. That changed me, because it made me really want to break out and do whatever I want. I very stifled by the judgment that people had there. 

I feel like it yielded this person that is truly not afraid to show her different sides.

I’m not afraid to do anything, pretty much, if I want to. I think growing up there kind of told me that it’s okay to break a mould, do you know what I mean? It’s okay to do something outside of what is ‘normal.’

Before Euphoria, you were in the adult film industry. This is an experience that you have described as liberating. Have you always been in tune with your sexuality? What gave you the personal fortitude to shed your inhibitions and show that side of yourself to the world?

My comfort in my sexuality basically just came from really wanting to put myself out there. Being from Pennsylvania, in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania, you don’t really have any connections, especially to Hollywood. I think that just made me want to try literally anything just to get out of that. Even though it’s totally fine to live this way, so many of the people I grew up around kind of live the same way that their parents did. I’m really grateful that I took a huge chance in life and that it got me somewhere. Where I’m from, people don’t really take chances. 

What is the most valuable lesson you learned from the adult industry that you brought with you into mainstream television? 

One of the most valuable lessons I learned is how to act, how to be on set, and how to follow directions — that’s where I learned to be an actor and a good performer in general.

What I feel radiates from you is an unbridled sense of self-assuredness. What is your advice to others who may not be as comfortable in their own skin? 

We only get one life to live. We’re all born and we all didn’t choose to be born, but we definitely didn’t choose to have to work to live. So I just really think that we really shouldn’t judge ourselves on what we do for work in order to live, because it’s all about what kind of day you can get through. You can’t really live your life based on the people around you because those people might be out of your life one day. And then what matters? At the end of your life, it’s only gonna be you, so you need to make sure that you’re happy with your choices.

I’m sure that being on a TV show and all of the amazing things you’ve experienced lately have been a big 180 for you. When you were younger, did you always aspire to have an audience-facing role? What was your dream back then?

Growing up, I always thought I would be some kind of performer or that I would be on camera. At first, I never really knew that I was that good of an actor because when I was acting as a kid, in school plays and stuff, I never really got the big roles. But I was a good enough actor for the adult industry. So it’s been actually a pretty crazy surprise to me that all this has happened, but it’s taught me that sometimes people just have natural skills. I think that’s what I have more than anything — natural skill. A lot of it, especially playing Faye, just kind of comes easily to me. It didn’t really take a ton of training or anything.

Faye became such a likeable character because I think many of us saw ourselves in her. She said the things that we were all thinking and she also acknowledged her own flaws and shortcomings — she was real. In what ways do you relate to Faye, and on the flip side, were there any qualities of the character that were difficult for you to channel? 

One quality that was hard for me to channel in Faye was just not caring about anything, but I feel like part of that is also being on drugs. So I’ve done a lot of research about being on drugs. The way that she doesn’t care what people think and will talk back to people — I feel like I don’t really relate to that. But I do relate to the way that she really likes to find a sense of community and a sense of home. I feel like that’s what she’s searching for by staying with Fez; she wants to belong. 

Your life outside of Faye underwent such a drastic transition. Have you found that sense of community yet?

I feel like I have a decent amount of community here. I’ve met a lot of people, but it’s funny — I find myself so easily becoming friends with a gaffer or a makeup artist. But I don’t as easily become friends with people that are the other actors. I know a lot of them, but I feel like a lot of my friends are people that are behind the scenes and are just really fun and easygoing. 

In some ways that makes sense because you can probably relate to those people more, given how quickly all of this picked up for you. After falling in love with your character, many fell in love with you for your genuine personality, your quirky, colourful style and infectious charisma. You’ve become a Gen Z ‘it-girl’ in your own right. So, I want to know about the ‘it-girls’ or individuals that paved the way for you — who were your icons growing up?

I loved Chloe Sevigny’s and Alexa Chung’s style for a really long time. I always loved Ryan Murphy’s shows and was inspired by the fashion on his shows. Miley Cyrus is somebody that I’ve looked up to and I also really love Claudia Sulewski’s style — I watched her videos for a while.

I can see all of those coming together to inform your style, and even Faye’s personal style in the show. I wanted to revisit your experience playing that role. I really appreciated the point where you mentioned that playing Faye feels natural — I think that’s why you and the character mesh so well and we all took a liking to her.

I don’t know if I’ve said this in an interview before, but there’s this one moment of my audition for Faye that I’ll never forget. I came in and I said the lines and I had this whole act that I would put on of being like, fucked up. I was doing the lines like that and then Sam goes, ‘No, stop. Just say it how you would say it.’ And then I just said the lines to how I would say it and then I got the role.

Which is amazing. It was effortless.

The only thing about being related to Faye — I think it’s so good. I just hope it’s not the McLovin effect where I’m typecast for the rest of my life. But I mean, I feel like it’s perfect. It comes so naturally to me. Faye is almost like a side of me. If I had kept going at my craziest and just kept going on drug and party binges, I might have ended up like Faye.

Faye is like you in another dimension. 

Totally.

You brought up a really important point about wanting to avoid being boxed in. You’re at such a pivotal moment now; it’s only the beginning. I listened to you on Emily Ratajkowski’s podcast, where you reiterated that as a young girl, you always yearned to have a flashy persona. You wanted to be the ‘hot bimbo’ that everyone knew. It reminded me of a recent article that The Cut published titled, ‘The Reclamation of Bimbohood‘. Basically, it was about how our contemporary understanding of ‘bimbohood’ encompasses attractive and socially-engaged women — they are self-proclaimed bimbos who ooze confidence. Do you resonate with that at all? Especially coming from the realm of adult film, how have you managed to reclaim your own sexuality and identity?

When it comes to Faye, I feel like she’s a bimbo, but in a way that you wouldn’t always imagine. She’s kind of a low-end bimbo, you know what I mean? The trashiest version of a bimbo. But with adult films, being a bimbo was very empowering because so many people would like you when you looked like that. Part of me sometimes misses being a part of such a sex-positive environment where instead of people constantly making threads on Reddit saying my lips are so terrible, people were like, ‘Oh my God, you look so amazing.’ I kind of miss that different view. Even if it was a more perverted view, I kind of thought it was almost more positive than such a perfectionist perspective. Doing adult films actually made me a lot more confident in my looks and just everything about me. I feel very physically confident about things since doing that. I think Faye is also the same in that way. Faye is also somebody who uses her sexuality and looks to get things in life and she’s very confident. 

Totally — and there’s a profound power behind that. How has it been navigating the scrutiny now that you have opened yourself up to a whole other world?

Dude, it’s so weird now. What I don’t miss in porn, is people would call me fat all the time because I was showing my body, but now I don’t really get people calling me fat anymore because I don’t show my body as much. People now scrutinise my looks in such an interesting way. They’ll say, ‘Oh my gosh, she’s so fake. Look at her lips.’ Whereas people used to not really say that. 

It’s very intriguing to hear the difference between the two types of entertainment from your perspective. Part of what makes your character and your true persona so endearing is your affinity for making people laugh. You don’t seem to take yourself too seriously and have cited shows like Curb Your Enthusiasm and It’s Always Sunny as your go-tos. If you could be a character in any comedy, who would you choose and why? 

I personally consider Succession a comedy. I think I would make myself one of Cousin Greg’s mean girlfriends — that would be funny. I do really like Curb Your Enthusiasm. I would love to be a part of that. I feel like I could be a waiter that Larry David fucks with or something like that. 

Not only are you a multi-faceted actress, but you have modelled for Laquan Smith, GCDS, Blumarine and more. You’ve gotten to live out the experiences of any fashion enthusiast’s dreams. Have you always been into fashion?

I’ve always been really into fashion. I love looking at fashion online and it’s something that I’ve always followed on social media. It was really surreal for me to be able to walk in those shows and I really hope I get to walk in more one day.

I would describe your style as effervescent, frisky and engaging. I’ve seen you take a liking to graphic tees and Y2K-era silhouettes. How would you describe your own style and what types of pieces do you usually gravitate towards? 

I usually gravitate towards stuff that — this sounds kind of weird — but I like stuff that looks like something that I personally would’ve worn as a kid. It’s basically just because I have the same taste that I did as a kid, so I dressed very Y2K because I grew up in that time period. I’m really attracted to stuff that was ‘in’ back then; it’s just ingrained in my brain. I also like really weird stuff, stuff that looks really unique. But for the most part, I constantly wear clothes that are reminiscent of the 2000s. 

You were also the face of Urban Decay’s Bond Liquid Lipstick. Urban Decay is one of the first makeup brands that I fell in love with as a tween getting into beauty regimens. What are some of your earliest makeup memories? 

Actually, one of my earliest makeup memories involves Urban Decay. The first time I started wearing makeup, I was in sixth grade and I didn’t really wear real makeup. I would just take this glitter eyeliner and put sparkles on my eyelids every day. Then eventually I got this Urban Decay blue eyeliner and then I started doing that.

I had the exact same blue eyeliner and I loved it. How has that routine evolved as you’ve matured?

I’ve never told this to anybody, but when I was 15 years old I discovered Lily-Rose Depp; I found her Instagram and I loved her aesthetic and the way she did her makeup. It was so simple. She would literally just do a little bit of blush, mascara, and nice eyebrows and I was just obsessed with it. So I completely dropped all my crazy makeup, started doing really simple makeup and I’ve just done it like that ever since. 

You’re just getting started showing the world who Chloe Cherry really is — you’re an esteemed actress, a model, a style icon for many, and even a SoundCloud rapper. How do you hope people remember you decades from now? What’s the legacy you’d like to leave behind and what are you working on right now that you’re excited about?

A few years down the line, we’re on Euphoria season seven. I maybe have my own fashion line, maybe my own skincare line, I’m doing more beauty campaigns and just doing all sorts of high fashion campaigns. I love being on Euphoria, but if that ended, I’d love to be a regular on something else. I just want to keep continuing to do what I do because I love it.

Team

Talent · Chloe Cherry
Creative Direction · Jade Removille 
Photography · Ricky Alvarez
Styling · Kathryn Typaldos at Forward Artists
Hair · Ericka Verrett at A-Frame
Makeup · Rob Rumsey at A-Frame
Styling Assistant· Nicole Grasty
Location · FD Photo Studio Los Angeles
Interview · Kayla Curtis-Evans
Special thanks to Lucy Greene at Anti Agency, Amanda Horton at ALH PR, Hannah Hardison at A-Frame


Designers

  1. Top and skirt RICK OWENS
  2. Tank TNA
  3. Tights GRETA GARMEL and shoes RICK OWENS
  4. Top from Archive Vintage, shirt and skirt ECKHAUS LATTA, socks COMME SI and shoes ARIELLE BARON from conti comm
  5.  Top and skirt ELENA VELEZ and earrings MEJURI
  6.  Hair clip SARAH APHRODITE, top PRADA from Archive Vintage, skirt POLLUX, shoes VALENTINO, bracelet MEJURI and leg warmers vintage
  7. Dress JEAN-PAUL GAULTIER from Archive Vintage


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