Helena Sinclair’s work exists at the edge of a boundary – or playfully sits either side. Seeing it, take note of your first feeling or instinct. Is the platter bristling with hairsoothing with its delicate beauty, or discomforting with a grossness that’s not quite gross? Does your reaction sit between the two, not at neutrality but an in-betweenness that depositions your body? Does its silly name undo you further?
Cousins, a new release from New Zealand, has its heart in its throat, harmonising a driftless protagonist with the enduring love of her whanau (Māori for extended family).
Why did I harbour dread at something so many find lovely? I couldn’t imbue marriage with new meaning; purity culture had tarnished it. No matter how far you go, moving on from indoctrination is sticky terrain.
The past is what happened, history is what is remembered. Recognising this dichotomy, John Young Zerunge reconstructs dominant historical narratives…
For Cambodian-American artist Anida Yoeu Ali, the loss of her artwork The Red Chador was profoundly traumatic. In this conversation, Ali reflects on her…