Sarah Nicole Prickett

  • Twin Peaks: The Return, 2017, still from a TV show on Showtime. Season 3, episode 5. Becky (Amanda Seyfried).
    film June 06, 2017

    Weirder Things

    “BLUE IS THE WRONG COLOR FOR ROSES,” says the crippled, disconsolate Laura in The Glass Menagerie (1944), my favorite Tennessee Williams play. “It’s right for you!” says Jim, her old high-school crush. They are about twenty-three years old and have been reunited in the one-sided hope that he’ll pick her out, pick her up, and carry her off. Once, all those years ago, she told him she was sick with pleurosis, which he misheard as “blue roses.” The mondegreen stuck. “The different people are not like other people, but being different is nothing to be ashamed of,” he says to her. “Because other

  • Twin Peaks: The Return, 2017, still from a TV show on Showtime. Season 3, episode 4.
    film June 01, 2017

    Wild Thing

    LAWS IN THE WORLD OF DAVID LYNCH are unnatural but do not lead to order, and things disordered lapse into “thingness.” This should be one of Lynch’s favorite words, lent to him in that book by Dennis Lim: “In his own speech—and in the speech patterns of his films, with their gnomic pronouncements and recurring mantras—the impression is of language used less for meaning than for sound. To savor the thingness of words is to move away from their imprisoning nature.” Write down the “academic definition” of “Lynchian,” suggested and sent-up by David Foster Wallace in his notes from the set of Lost

  • Twin Peaks: The Return, 2017, still from a TV show on Showtime. Season 3, episode 1. Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan).
    film May 23, 2017

    Eternal Return

    EUCALYPTUS TREES, WEAKENED BY DROUGHT, are on their last legs all over Los Angeles. One fell and knocked out the power lines next to my friend’s house, where I am staying, in Eagle Rock, and we stood on the deck drinking Vinho Verde––delicious, like if wine were beer––watching the action. A fire truck loitered for an hour, produced no helpers, and left. Disruption made the street its own neighborhood. Homeowners came out wondering, hands synchronized on hips. One man retrieved his digital camera and tripod and took commemorative photos. Another ambled the length of his driveway twice an hour to

  • Sophie Calle at the Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn. (Photo: Leandro Justen)
    diary May 02, 2017

    Last Calle

    SOPHIE CALLE WAS SMOKING AND TEXTING on stone steps in a green velvet dress, which I wanted to touch. She said sure, so I felt up the hem. It was heavy, deluxe. I asked her where she got it, and instead of answering, she asked me why I liked it. Suddenly I heard myself talking about my childhood, my mother who sewed dresses, and the velvet dresses I always asked her to make me, even after I knew how much the material cost. I stopped, embarrassed. Was I telling a secret? But anyone could see I had been a child, and it was obvious green velvet would suit me. Calle opened a map on her phone and

  • Iris van Herpen, dress from the fall/winter 2013–14 haute couture “Wilderness Embodied” collection, silicone feathers, cotton twill, silicone-coated gull skulls, synthetic pearls, glass eyes. From “Manus x Machina: Fashion in an Age of Technology.” Photo: Nicholas Alan Cope.

    “Manus x Machina: Fashion in an Age of Technology”

    Any great dress is wearable technology. It’s the product of technology, insofar as clothes that deserve to be expensive are manifestations of craft, art, and workmanship—of technē, as the Greeks denoted “cleverness of hand.” It’s also a kind of tech product, in that clothes augment perceptions of the wearer that become the wearer’s reality.

    This spring’s extravangaza is a show unconcerned with whether hands or machines are cleverer. Paid for by Apple with additional help from Condé Nast, “Manus x Machina” weaves together (handmade, traditional) couture and (machine-made,

  • Left: Americo Da Corte and artist Alex Da Corte. Right: Alex Da Corte's “Free Roses.”
    diary April 18, 2016

    Whatever Works

    MORE NIGHTS THAN NOT THIS PAST WINTER, Amanda Bates, a bartender at Public in North Adams, Massachusetts, would see her favorite new customer, Alex Da Corte. He would walk in from the museum across the street, where he and his two assistants and a team of seven workers were installing his eight-room survey, “Free Roses,” and order a glass of sangiovese or a mezcal with ice, depending on his stress levels. By the time it got to be spring, she was pouring a fair amount of mezcal, but she never saw him drunk. She would ask him about work; he would complain, gently, about a lack of sleep or a supply

  • Sojourner Truth Parsons, Heartbeats Accelerating, 2016, acrylic on canvas, 84 x 60”.
    picks April 08, 2016

    Sojourner Truth Parsons

    Strawberry-flavored Dippin’ Dots, Sobranie Slims, Himalayan salt lamps, the ombré hem of Gwen Stefani’s wedding dress, the drunk tank at Santa Clara County, carnations on Mother’s Day, orchids, a love stone, Cam’ron in mink, Sissy Spacek as Pinky in 3 Women (1977), a Juicy Couture velour tracksuit, a Jem doll’s hair, Bazooka gum, an inflatable flamingo, Pucci lingerie from the 1960s, Wet n Wild 901B in a black plastic tube: These are the shadings of pink in Sojourner Truth Parsons’s new paintings that involve, variously, a Dalmatian, flowers, cigarettes, acrylic nails, and a temporary tattoo

  • View of “Berlinde De Bruyckere,” 2016.
    picks March 11, 2016

    Berlinde De Bruyckere

    Berlinde De Bruyckere is an artist whose work has made me cry in public. It’s remarkable when art makes you cry, unlike when you cry at a movie or listening to music, since hot tears are fine in the dark, yet unerotic and, at best, often disgusting in a white space. De Bruyckere is a master manipulator who doesn’t care how you feel. There is no other explanation for the horses she shows dead and hog-tied, one at a time or three together, piled in a mahogany armoire like the victims of a massacre.

    Before you get to the great roan bodies in “No Life Lost,” you have to encounter them flayed out and

  • Alex Garland, Ex Machina, 2015, digital video, color, sound, 108 minutes. Ava (Alicia Vikander).

    The Year in Sex

    AS ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE gets bodied, the question on everybody’s tech vertical this year is: Should humans and robots have sex? The answer would seem to be no—obviously not. Thousands of years of earth’s history suggest that unless robots envy a life of permanent and unnecessary drama with a two-thirds chance of (incurable) herpes, they should stay far away from human flesh. Not even a sitting president or a movie star married to another movie star is safe from the ramifications of screwing a mortal. Sex with humans wrecked the home of the Greek gods and obliterated that other Olympus,

  • Sue de Beer, Untitled (Still from The Blue Lenses), 2014, digital metallic C-print, 27 x 22".
    picks September 18, 2015

    Sue de Beer

    A major pleasure of reading is the stream of images that comes bidden into one’s head over the course of a book, produced by the exchange of one’s memory and the author’s imagination and occasionally syncing with, but always illuminating, the words. In Sue de Beer’s work since the early 2000s, we get to see—the way we don’t see our own—her personal image-streams on a wall, excellently crystallized into a series of lucid and fey film installations: Disappear Here, 2004, with a title from Bret Easton Ellis and a monologue from an untitled (and so far unreleased) novel by Alissa Bennett; Black Sun

  • Agathe Snow, Stamina, 2015, video, color, sound, 24 hours.
    diary August 28, 2015

    Search Party

    AT 6:37 AM on the taxi’s clock a week ago today, we went uptown to catch an off-hour of Agathe Snow’s Stamina. A twenty-four-hour video of a twenty-four-hour party in 2005, Stamina was being screened at another twenty-four-hour party, this one at the Guggenheim, with drink tickets and security guards and some parents. In one of the seven panels on screen a woman in a leotard danced, dedicated to the party shift no one wanted. In the rotunda of the museum, two male teens discombobulated themselves on the disco floor, having the most amazing of times, but in a few years they’ll know that isn’t

  • Andrea Crespo, multi (sensorygates)), 2015, data security box, inkjet print on paper, UV print on acrylic glass, LED lights, the Advent by phen-projnu.deviantart.com, 17 1/2 x 7 1/4 x 2".
    picks August 04, 2015

    Andrea Crespo

    In Andrea Crespo’s company, more than two is far from a crowd. The artist’s second solo show their first in New York is themed by “multiple systems”—the state of being one or two or six in a single body—but it’s less an expedition into relatively unmarked territory than it is a slumber fort for those who’ve never really been at home. Four microfiber shades, drawn with hydra-headed creatures, lead-colored flecks, and/or pale motifs such as the Celexa logo, palliate the sun in the windows. On the floor, a small machine (polymist: echolalic transponder, 2015) tries to sift remembering from pain