A little heavy for beach reading but this book/DVD asks a fascinating question: What role does shame play in the concept of gay pride, as the gay pride movement gets too cozy with corporations, too assimilationist, too willing to gloss over the realities of gay experience to conform with a triumphalist narrative? Enquiring minds wanna know, and there’s no shame in that.

Goes without saying: this is the must-read book on the subject. Even though Waltpaper centers himself in the narrative, he provides enough of a photo-rich, wide-angle take on the scene to capture its multifaceted essence.

Sunday morning reading: Deesha Philyaw’s debut short story collection is impossible to put down and leaves you needing more when you finally do. Philyaw goes deep on the ways sex, God, love and family shape Black women’s lives, lesbian and straight, but her touch is featherlight, never heavy-handed. Wow!.

This catalog from the artist’s 2018 solo show at The Andy Warhol Museum was the first book I was able to read cover to cover when the pandemic hit NYC in Spring 2020. My concentration was shot, but. page after page after page, this testament to Queer/Black/Magic proved to be exactly what the doctor ordered.

Nguyen’s pretty/spooky/sexy paintings beg a comparison to Jared French’s work (maybe George Tooker’s?) but that’s probably a bit facile. Nguyen has his own thing going on, and a nice mix of classical and digital influences underpinning it all. His growth as a painter really shows in this Matthew Marks exhibit viewable online and in the 24th Street Chelsea gallery through August 13.

Rivera’s ‘80s and ‘90s photos of L.A.—its underground music, fashion and gay and transvestite Latino bars—have amazing balance: they’re immediate yet dreamy, and never feel nostalgic. This volume of his work is hard to put down. Also includes an exchange between the photographer and seminal drag scenester and artist Vaginal Davis as an added treat.

Pride 2021: Peter Hujar’s haunting/stunning photographs of ‘70s New York really resonate in the pandemic-era metropolis. Perhaps it’s because there’s nothing like the queer magic and sheer potential of the New York City night. Matthew Marks Gallery has made this out-of-print book viewable online, though the link can be wonky at times.

Kudos to Coffee House Press for reissuing the late author’s work in an affordable, accessible volume (copies of his books are scarce and pricey). Running the gamut from Afrofuturism to parable, thriller and gothic romance, Dumas’s work caught the eye of Toni Morrison, who became his editor. But he was abruptly silenced, shot and killed by a NYC transit police officer in 1968. Say his name. Henry Dumas.

A trashy book, exquisitely, exquisitely trashy, documenting artist Yuji Agematsu’s mini-sculptures made from detritus found on his daily walks in 2020. Most awesome: the way each day’s findings are painstakingly arranged in cellophane cigarette wrappers. We’ve never seen wads of chewed-up gum look like such treasures! Availabilism. Flaneurism. Up Smashion’s alley big-time.

Sunday morning reading: There is a fungus among us. Nour Mobarak’s mycological sculptures knocked our socks off when they were shown at Miguel Abreu this spring. Lo and behold, there’s a book about these beauties, which accompanies a CD of sound experiments by the multitalented Mobarak. Delicious.

Sunday morning reading: Finally picked up this competent survey of four key art/fashion producers from 1995-2018. Examines the agility and sacrifice it took to have an independent working practice as fashion got way more corporate over the past couple decades. The Bernadette Corporation profile alone is worth the price of admission.

Sunday morning reading: A slim volume primarily focused on one work by the noted African American figurative artist who imbued his every painting and drawing with the spirit of lifelong social engagement. White was also a noted educator whose pupils include David Hammons and Kerry James Marshall.

The Joyce Theater is now streaming a dance program of five new or reimagined works from the always spruce and stylish Stephen Petronio Company. Great, more computer time, but well worth it. There’s also a limited edition book about the company’s pandemic year for deep-pocketed patrons. On demand through May 26.

When I saw this at the bookstore today, I gagged. The Sisters of Mercy were like Elvis to me growing up. Apparently this self-pubbed volume is quite the brisk seller. Can't wait for volume 2.

This weekend, I’ll be glued to my computer, hoovering up all five movies in this virtual mini-film fest. Starting point: 1997’s Chocolate Babies, since the screening includes a Q&A with the filmmaker, Stephen Winter, moderated by Tony-nominated playwright Jeremy O. Harris. #streamqueen

A catalog of the 1988 tarot-themed installation by West Coast artist David Cannon Dashiell (grandson of Dashiell Hammett). Where Leonara Carrington’s tarot art is esoteric and abstruse, Dashiell’s is intimately autobiographical. The work is quirky, its revelations about his eccentric father and chronically ill mother disturbing. Dashiell died of AIDS in 1993. Copies of the catalog are available at AbeBooks.

Yes, to state the obvious, this book by the feminist surrealist (Max Ernst’s erstwhile lover) is magical. A nice window on the occult strands in Carrington’s work that simultaneously hints at a deeper inaccessibility. But not every meaning needs to be revealed in these lavish works—the mystery is part of the fun.

This catalog accompanied a 2019 photo exhibit chronicling Madrid’s delightful late-’70s and ‘80s post-Franco countercultural spasm that perhaps most famously gave the world Pedro Almodóvar. A boxed-set of four photographers’ portfolios, glossy and poster-ish and wonderful.

The last film I saw in a theater? Ulrike Ottinger’s Freak Orlando at the Metrograph, March 14, 2020. Then there’s her version of the Dorian Gray story. This 1984 film starring supermodel Veruschka von Lehndorff as Dorian took gender play, painterly cinematic visualization and mass media critique to whole new levels and still packs a punch. In fact, we all live in the internet version of the Press Ball scene today. Watch the film to see what I mean. You can order a DVD directly from Ottinger’s website.

Maybe we should have been posting about Earth Day stuff today, but this queerotic zine published on Valentine’s Day was what caught our eye instead. It’s definitely a climate-changer. Looks are hot, etc. You get it. You should get it.