A "re-imagining" of Bataille's pivotal Madame Edwarda queered towards the float. Quintessential M Kitchell fiction probing the ideas of sexuality, performance, and the outside.
Limited edition of 40. Another beautifully designed book from M.
The section involving the sciatic nerve, yow. I love the paragraphs on how it's impossible to describe acrobatic practice using language. (My own work being so gestural and embodied in smaller ways, I can totally relate.)
I was laughing out loud when the narrator went into a backroom, and the DJ was playing "a particularly abstract range of early industrial music". Just about all the music I've heard in sleazy gay spaces have been relentlessly insipid. Similarly, a few years ago I was watching Great Freedom, and just about rolled in the aisle when the Franz Rogowski character walked into a bar, and Peter Brotzmann was honking away on the saxophone.