queer new gothic artist & writer
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Temporal Medium

 

This field of tension is the space where queer desires…unfurl elaborate fantasy scenarios. Desires have become reality, yet fantasy is by no means obsolete, since desires are fantasmatic in their reality and most real as fantasies.
— Antke Engel, Queer Temporalities and the Chronopolitics of Transtemporal Drag
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Quarental

2018

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. The reanimated body, ... becomes a figure through which ... [to consider] the fraught relation between unassailable historical materiality and original aesthetic practice—between the dictates of what has come before and the desire to create something new out of it... in which the dead come to life in turn call our attention to the limits of the poet’s reanimating power by exposing the inherent subjectivity of any resuscitative poetic project.
— Renée Fox, Robert Browning’s Necropoetics
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... as if in exile—exiled not only from the stage but also from himself. With a vague sense of discomfort he feels inexplicable emptiness: his body loses its corporeality, it evaporates, it is deprived of reality, life, a voice, and the noises caused by his moving about, in order to be changed into a mute image, flickering an instant on screen, then vanishing into silence...
— Luigi Pirandello, Si Gira
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Glamr XOXO

2019

A poetic self-fashioning performance video I produced in Iceland meditates on the undeath and destruction of Glamr, a revenant from Grettir’s Saga, whose haunting of the living I reenacted through a slow motion dance video, that asked what is a stranger? Who is the stranger in and to ourselves? Why does the stranger come back to haunt ourselves?

…queerness reminds me that my own white, gay male, privileged body cannot assume queerness—I attend queerness through uncomfortable processes that say ‘yes’ to perspectives beyond my own. Queerness serves to keep me working outside of my own navel-gazing and remember to engage sex and gender within contexts of class, race, and globe… when I dance queerly I remember the political limits of dancing alone.
— Paul Carpenter, The Last Cowboy Standing