Meeka Walsh

• Sleepy Time with Henri Michaux

• Writing, Being Here and There

• Photographs, A Story

  So, imagine finding, just happening upon such a roll or spool of undeveloped film. From before digital. A taut canister of a photo record of someone’s intentions. You could tell it. It could go like this.

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  Ends and Beginnings: The Generative Photographs of Nan Goldin

  In the interview that follows, “beauty” is spoken. Goldin says, about her photographs from Eden and After, “I desire the beauty. I’m attracted to people who are beautiful. And my people are all kinds of beautiful.”

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  Belle Lettrists: Nicola Tyson, Maria Lassnig, Amy Sillman

  I have two very particular books of letters on my desk. Particular in that neither is the collected correspondence of one writer in touch with a number of recipients over time, nor gathered together to reflect the breadth of the recipients, nor the myriad points of connections the writer made in a lifetime, nor focused on an event of significance—a crisis lived through and reported on, personal or universal. More particular than that.

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  Sweetened with Beauty

  The interview that follows was prompted by the exhibition at Whitechapel, “Kai Althoff goes with Bernard Leach,” in tandem with our own long-standing interest in the artist’s work.

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  Through the Eyes of Another: Black and Visible

  How many ways to say—and how many voices to call—systemic racism; to say unyielding white supremacy; to say invisibility that goes unremarked; to say denial of personhood?

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  Esmaa Mohamoud

  For Esmaa Mohamoud, growing up as the only girl between two older brothers and two younger ones, an engagement with sports was inevitable. A self-described tomboy, she played sports like a boy, wore a jersey, was a Raptors fan who admired Vince Carter and wanted some of his magic for her own.

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  The Song of Her Self

  Tschabalala Self is very clear, very focused, very persistent. She says, when queried in the interview that follows, “My work is all about figuration. It’s all about people, lives, lived experiences.” She says, “The main subject of my work is the Black woman, and I care for Black women and I also care about the reputations of Black women as they exist in the real world and also in the collective imagination.”

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  Subjectivities

  In the span of three years three books have been made available to readers in North America where the simple statement “I am my own subject” could apply.

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  Clarice Lispector: The Thereness of Language

  Everyone who reads Clarice Lispector grapples with the figure who can’t be interrogated now, since she died in 1977, and couldn’t be queried any more readily when she was alive. To read her is to enter a state of involuntariness.

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  Dreaming Robert Frank, Dreaming Walter Benjamin

  Awake too much, the dream and its fragmented, fogged and transitory qualities, I find a seductive state. The lapse and slip and the nuance, already elusive by its very suggestion, is an amplitude to which I am drawn.

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