Page 18 - Rtists News Today

To grant pregnant women the license to feel something, to be themselves in cinema: is it just too much to imagine?

The Brooklyn Rail is a journal committed to providing an independent forum for visual arts, culture, and politics throughout New York City and beyond.

When polymath Peter Nadin moved from New York more than thirty years ago to live at Old Field Farm, his rural property in the Catskill Mountains, he consciously left behind his role as a key figure in the city’s downtown art scene for a more contemplative lifestyle. Despite this, Nadin never stopped painting and two years ago had a debut exhibition at Off Paradise, The Distance From a Lemon to Murder.

The Brooklyn Rail is a journal committed to providing an independent forum for visual arts, culture, and politics throughout New York City and beyond.

The book demonstrates the critical force of feeling and how it enables artists, audiences, and all of us to recognize our embeddedness in one another’s lives. Musser argues that the embodied sensations induced by encounters with artworks are essential tools for responding to violence and enacting alternative futures.

In Ravi Mangla’s “Arcadia,” a retro video game seller goes in search of a game rumored to be a CIA psyops experiment. What he discovers—through a surrealist turn in the narration—is the depths of his own grief.

“Like all Irish Catholic families, mine was suspicious of admitted alcoholics,” says Dennis Monk, the narrator of Michael Deagler’s Early Sobrieties. This is a problem, because Dennis Monk is newly sober and staying with his parents in the Pennsylvania suburbs. “An admission of alcoholism meant that a frank conversation was about to be had, and an Irish Catholic family abhors nothing so much as a frank conversation.”

From Poor Cow (1967) and Kes (1969) to Raining Stones (1993) and My Name is Joe (1998), Loach has elevated the humanity and everyday courage of, in his words, society’s nonpersons.” His deceptively simple stories of families and neighborhoods, captured with an unflinching gaze, vibrate with anger.

When I began performing my solo project A Body in Places (2014–), I left theaters and danced, or rather lay down, in places like churches and street plazas. I regard these sites as “places,” characterized by its functions, habitats, and constituencies. I observe each place for as many days as available. I am a visitor/a foreigner, but at the performance, I need to feel I belong there.

The body as an impediment, a prison for the soul, an obstacle to contemplation. I am the result of that education, of that culture. A culture that admires sacrifice and willingness for martyrdom.