The Wonderful World that Almost Was: A Life of Peter Hujar and Paul Thek

by Andrew Durbin

The work of photographer Peter Hujar defined downtown New York in the 1970s and 1980s. Paul Thek was an American sculptor and painter. Hujar and Thek met in 1956 and shared a strong intellectual and artistic connection that influenced the work of both artists. The Wonderful World That Almost Was follows the development of the intense friendship - and romance - between them, from their first encounter in Miami to the painful end of their friendship in the mid-1970s. It was during that period that Hujar and Thek produced some of their most famous and significant works, and this biography traces the ways in which these artists' work directly and indirectly influenced both one another and the wider cultural sphere, and features the large circle of friends and artists they shared, from Andy Warhol and Fran Lebowitz, to Susan Sontag and David Wojnarowicz.

Genres: Queer, Art, Biography, Nonfiction, LGBT, Memoir, Gay

496 pages, Kindle Edition

Published April 23, 2026

About the author

Andrew Durbin is the author of MacArthur Park (2017) and Skyland (2020), both from Nightboat Books. In 2018, MacArthur Park was a finalist for the Believer Book Award. His book about Peter Hujar and Paul Thek, The Wonderful World that Almost Was, is forthcoming from FSG and Granta in April 2026. He is the editor of Jacolby Satterwhite’s How lovely is me being as I am (Carnegie Mellon Press, 2021), Kevin Killian’s Fascination: Memoirs (Semiotexte, 2018), and the chapbook series Say bye to reason and hi to everything (Capricious, 2015). His fiction, criticism, and poetry have appeared in The Believer, BOMB, Boston Review, The New York Review of Books, The London Review of Books, The Paris Review, Triple Canopy, and elsewhere. He lives in London and is the editor-in-chief of frieze magazine.

Reviews

[Charlie · Rating 5 out of 5]

A stunning portrait of two brilliant, troubled, and artistically clairvoyant mid-late 20th century artists, by one of my favorite contemporary writers. I have known Hujar’s work for years, but this book (and Primary Information’s brilliant Stay away from nothing) served as my introduction to Paul Thek. I find Paul’s sensibility eerily similar to my own, and Peter’s darkroom practices inspiring to no end. It’s hard to read this book and not imagine yourself on Ponza with P&P, or one among 15,000+ of Hujar’s lovers…

Jackson Howard is on a generational run as an editor

[Max S. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sexy, informative. Slightly repetitive but what a world!

[Sam · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved living in the world of their love. Wow.

[Colby 🪩 · Rating 5 out of 5]

How do you mourn the loss of time you never lived and for a pair you never knew?

[Shadib Bin · Rating 5 out of 5]

My most anticipated book of this year, this did not disappoint. I have deeply loved Peter Hujar’s work, after I started to dive in deeper into David Wojnarowicz’s art over the last decade (Peter was David’s brief lover, but ended up being a pivotal mentor and almost father figure, a bond that transformed both of them).

This biography was deeply refreshing because the author took the deliberate approach to not write from the lens of what we know happened to the queer community back then, as ravaged by the HIV / AIDS epidemic. Instead, Andrew took a nuanced approach to tell Paul Thek and Peter Hujar’s love and friendship through how it was in time and place (1960-1970s primarily) as it happened back then. Which gives this air of simplicity that I much appreciated. It took me a while but I did get the hang of it - as if I too were a traveler with them across the decades - in time and in place.

Andrew’s deep respect and care for both of them is evident, as the tireless research is so very effortless - I could read another book in this same era from him and not get tired.

My only complaint is that, due to the stance taken by Andrew - of just telling the story as it unfolded, it robs of any meaningful insights that could have helped otherwise to set the stage. The book near the end can become a chore, as you can tell Andrew is just going through the motion of all the research he had done and you quite literally feel him just typing it all up - chronologically to wrap the book - which started to feel a bit boring. But despite that, I did find the overall book, quite engaging and loving. A deep dive into lost times that I know I certainly would have loved to go towards.

And finally, to Peter Hujar and Paul Thek. It’s for artists such as these two, that queerness is so defining and boundary pushing. And so meaningfully inspiring for people such as myself.

[F · Rating 5 out of 5]

Came to understand the Thek meat pieces and stayed for the joyfully catty portraits of (briefly) Andy Warhol and (repeatedly) Susan Sontag, whom it seems historians of photography are still not ready to forgive. This really was stunning - it’s so refreshing to read something about Peter Hujar which isn’t wildly predetermined by his death, and Durbin’s interpretation of the Thek archive’s more unhinged elements is incredibly impressive (and sympathetic, and humane). The chapter on Hujar’s work on Portraits of Life and Death was so moving. The initial chapters, on the period before Hujar and Thek were together, were a bit frustrating - a chapter on one, a chapter on the other - but no matter. Joyous life writing enlivened by every Fran Lebowitz cameo and carefully interwoven interpretation of the subjects’ work.

[Joshua Quiñones · Rating 4 out of 5]

In closing the book after turning the final page, I'm left with a melange of feelings: sorrow at the end of Hujar and Thek's lives—ever more so the unresolved ending of their relationship—and the joy at the intimate witnessing of these artists and men that is so lovingly rendered by Andrew Durbin. While the book is non-fiction, Durbin's prose exquisitely envelops the reader in a sense of the sublime; for all the facts that drive the narrative forward, Durbin beautifully captures the "wonderful world that almost was," inviting readers into such proximity with Hujar and Thek that the two come alive on the page. The focus is smart: the narrative is well-balanced between story and detail, with the latter (names, places, events) never becoming so dense as to become cumbersome. There's something both strange and familiar about Hujar and Thek as individuals; many queer readers will likely relate to the shifting nature of their relationship that defies heteronormative classifications/limitations.

Reading about Hujar's relationship with David Wojnarowicz spurred me to begin reading Wojnarowicz's acclaimed memoir "Close to the Knives"—the world the Durbin rendered for his readers in this book is not one that I am ready to quit just yet. A particularly illuminating read during Pride month, when the discourse around queer lives and potentials heightens with the cultural zenith of the LGBTQ+ community!

[Venneh · Rating 4 out of 5]

We get a sad but sweet biography of two young gay artists in NYC from the 60s to the early 80s, their eventual break up, and the death of one from AIDS. Ultimately tragic, and, the author goes out of his way to talk about them as people and as artists, and how they influenced each other and those around them. Recommended read for your April.

[McKenna · Rating 5 out of 5]

changing this to 5 stars because it is just too good

This epilogue was absolutely heartbreaking and Paul’s depression and paranoia made me so sad

Such an incredible and well-researched biography about these two fascinating men! And also a beautiful exploration of art and photography (and how that was finally starting to be recognized as an art form itself) and New York in the 60s and 70s and so many luscious places!!!! So glad to have read this and I loved how tender it felt

[R.J. Gilmour · Rating 5 out of 5]

Durbin's book looks at the lives of two artists, the photographer Peter Hujar and the painter/sculptor Paul Thek and how their lives intersected. He traces their relationship as lovers and friends across twenty years until their deaths from AIDS in the 1980s. It is fascinating biography that crosses time & continents and features all of the major players from the underground art community of New York's East Village in the 1970s and 1980s.

The most famous dictum of Against Interpretation-"In place of hermeneutics we need an erotics of art"-encapsulated their work and personalities...7

Peter first photographed Paul in Coral Gables, Florida, in the inter of 1956-57 and for the final time in New York, in August 1975. Between these two sessions, they became friends, loves, then finally two people who struggles to be in the same room together. 9

Death has always fascinated us, the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein wrote, because it is the universal fate that "does not happen in life: we do not live to experience death." 10

Bernice Abbott in her 1941 Guide to Better Photography. Don't worry too much about whether your subject matter is grand, she argued: "You will find greater happiness in photographer if you study familiar scenes and activities around you, the things you know best..." 32

...and often found themselves at the midtown apartment of photographer Wilbur Pippin and his partner Fred Melton. Pippin and Melton hosted regular evenings with artists and performers, including W.H. Auden, Paul Cadmus, Lincoln Kistein, George Platt Lynes, and Tennessee Williams. They were fascinating gatherings...45
RJ: A book about them?

Like Peter, David would see such ruins as perilous reservoirs for both erotic experiences and poetic images, enclaves outside-and free from-a deadening, prosaic society. 55

the art historian Fiona Anderson wrote that "the ruin is appealing precisely because it is at once physical and metaphysical-the past persists not only in the material form of the ruin but in the imaginative potential sparked by its fragmentation and the processes of ruination." 55-56

On the corner of Forty-Second Street and Broadway, behind a door marked with the name Jack Prince, a handful of young artists would sit for hours, crafting a new look for America. 81
RJ: Book about Jack Prince?

What she [Susan Sontag] liked was "mad people," that is, "people who stand alone + burn," as she wrote in her notebooks. 84-85

"I have a head full of ghosts," he [Paul Thek] once wrote. 91

What they glimpse below, in the shifting silt, are "certain people, like Genet and Bacon," Vincent says, and you suspect he counts Clem among them, "who probably can't love, but they still function and have a strangely positive perverted kind of life." 211

John Rechy evokes these spaces as a vibrant nocturnal world in City of Night (1963) when he writes of its "male hungry looks hidden by the darkness of the night," where "intimate nameless strangers [are] joined for one gasping brief space of time." 212

After the upheaval of the 1960s, no one was quite sure what would come next, and for a while it felt as if the 1970s hadn't started at all. "There was no distinctive style for the decade, no flair, no slogans," Edmund White wrote. The be-ins, the marches, and the riots had mostly subsided, leaving a strange quiet in their place. For many gay men, the new decade's excitement wasn't political but sexual: a revolution of the body, played out in bedrooms, on the piers, in clubs. What they inherited from the 1960s-an era of pop art and protest-was the promise of sexual liberation, delivered almost as an afterthought at the end of June 1969. 362

In loving him I saw great houses being erected that
would soon slide into the waiting sea. David Wojnarowicz. 387

[Lilyanna D'Amato · Rating 4 out of 5]

very romantic and wistful and sometimes very sad, made me want to go to Italy and never be in an open relationship

[kaplan · Rating 5 out of 5]

You could knock me over with a feather! This was quite the undertaking but so worth it I loved floating around in another time learning about queer history, art and sex.

[Adam Kincaid Ward · Rating 5 out of 5]

Was impressed over and over again with Durbin’s ability to balance this, very obviously, deeply researched book with such a warm and lush prose. Eileen Myles described this biography as “tender”, and they’re spot on here. It requires a skilled hand to render the rooms and scenes from these men’s lives in such vivid emotional detail while also never overstepping into a realm that feels falsely imagined. Biography as a genre of literature really benefits from Andrew Durbin’s contributions.

[Márcio · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thanks, Net Galley, for providing me with a copy of this book.

I believe I can say that much of the events and culture from the 1950s to the 1980s are not unfamiliar to me, and with the Internet and the spread of knowledge, many potholes were filled along the years. And yet, only more recently have I come to know a little more about Peter Hujar and his works. Nowadays, many people know at least one of his works, although they may not know that he is the author of Orgasmic Man, which graces the cover of Hanya Yanagihara's book, A Little Life.

I am familiar with other works by Hujar besides those mentioned above, but I knew little about his life and whereabouts. And as for Paul Thek, he was a total mystery. So, I am very happy to have had the opportunity to read The Wonderful World That Almost Was by Durbin, a title that I believe is very close to the reality of these fascinating artists' lives.

Both Hujar and Thek, born in the 1930s, had to deal with immense difficulties during their childhood and adolescence, mainly in their relationships with their families/parents and poverty, which left deep marks on their personalities, affecting them psychologically. Although these marks, to some extent, also helped them forge their path towards artistic expression, they were also the trigger for their downfall, especially Thek's, who, at a certain point in his life around the 1970's and 1980's, was quite lost in his emotional turmoil, which distanced him more and more from everyone, including Hujar, his ex-boyfriend and close friend. At the end of their lives, they practically didn't speak to each other. And, unfortunately, their lives were cut short on account of the AIDS crisis, which took so many talented people so soon.

Something that caught my attention in the way the book was structured was how, within the circle of relationships between these two great artists, ideas flowed freely and were shared. Like Hujar's interest in visiting the catacombs of Palermo to create one of his major photography books, which also resulted in Thek's interest in developing his meat pieces. Or Thek's phrase, which Susan Sontag used as the title and foundation of one of her works, "Against Interpretation", and so on. It was just sad to know that, at the height of her fame, she didn't care much about those two, who were there for her in many instances.

The only thing I didn't like was that Durbin sometimes repeats some events too much. I understand that this is a way of adding emphasis, and that I've seen it in other biographies, but it sometimes doesn't add anything. In any case, this doesn't detract in any way from the work he did in writing the biographies of these two fascinating artists.

[Michael Ritchie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This dual biography of two gay artists isn't totally successful but it makes interesting reading. I was familiar with Peter Hujar, a photographer known for his portraits and also for his chronicling of gay cruising spots in New York City. I had never heard of Paul Thek, an artist who spent most of his energy on huge (and seemingly quite unwieldy) installations. He never made much of a name for himself; though he wanted to make a living through art, he also was dedicated to his own personal visions and had at best a minor presence in the American and European art worlds. The linking of the two seems like it will work well at first--they were friends in the 50s, and became lovers off and on for a time, but by 1970 they seem to have completely drifted away from each other, partly due to Paul's mental health problems. They died of AIDS-related illnesses within a few months of each other in the late 1980s.

The author states that he is at pains to not make their deaths the focal point of their stories, as often happens in biographies of people who die of AIDS, and he is successful at this. Both, at least as young men, become fleshed-out characters. But I'm not necessarily convinced that the two belong together here. They were lovers for only a short time, and though Durbin tries to keep them connected, they had almost no contact during the last ten years of so of their lives. I came away feeling like Durbin was trying hard to establish an important relationship between them that maybe wasn't quite that important to the two men. Durbin also gives both men short shrift during their years apart, and I was left wanting to know much more about them separately.

Most disappointingly, for a book about two visual artists, very little of their art is present. There are 16 pages of plates but only about half of those contain photos of their works. Durbin describes many, many artworks, but I had to go to Google Images to find examples. Though I think Durbin tries to work against a tragic reading of their lives, I was left sad by the end: about their relative lack of success, their early deaths, and their inability to sustain a rich relationship. None of which should stop you from reading the book, especially if you are interested in gay art, the 1960s and 70s, and reclaiming the life stories of those who were taken far too young by AIDS. Durbin's writing is strong and compelling, and just enough names are dropped here and there (Susan Sontag, Andy Warhol, David Wojnarowicz) to give a picture of their larger worlds of friends and lovers. Also, Fran Lebowitz is quoted frequently and is a welcome presence.

[Luis Barrueto · Rating 4 out of 5]

I got acquainted with Peter Hujar and his work relatively recently. I’m not sure if I found out, or merely renewed my interest, with a podcast with his friend and fellow photographer Gary Schneider. And there’s the Ira Sachs’ movie with Ben Whishaw, all from 2025 and recent marks of a fame he did not have in his lifetime.

With this, I was thrilled to attend the opening of his exhibition at Berlin’s Gropius Bau in March 2026.

Now, I appreciate photography and have seen my fair share of materials, read about photography as an art form in essays and books. But one thing that had never happened to me was the feeling of emotional overwhelm that reached me as I crossed with his photos of Paul Thek, longtime friend, lover, and fellow artist, in the time when they met in Florida as 20 year olds. I knew broad outlines of their history, but not a lot of details, and finding out that the series of stills came from the moment that they met filled me sadness.

I can’t explain it. I would normally be so concerned with avoiding the crowds of such an opening in a large museum. But the strength of the picture went beyond the other strong images in the collection, like the one with Candy Darling in her deathbed, or images from his famous entourage, including John Waters or Susan Sontag.

The photo stared back at me and conveyed its status as a form of relic. When it was taken, it ultimately failed to capture the real and living nature of the moment, fleeting as it was and filled with so much potential.

Yet, I am so glad a young Peter captured it, against all odds, as an effective reminder of what was to come to him and Thek over the decades – and which this book helped me understand further. Theirs was a true life pulse in these two, a thirst for life, and a curve for their personal and artistic growth, despite the contradictions and their distancing.

I went back to the last day of the exhibition and, having read about half, cried a bit more in front of the photo from the opening. I also felt strongly when seeing the illustrations included in the book’s mid-section.

It’s true, the narrative is a bit repetitive and perhaps could have used an editor more keen on shortening it. That said, I feel fulfilled to have gotten to know so much nuance in these two artists’ lives. Presenting all of it, without judgment and through a different chronology –it’s so tempting to read the entire generation of people we lost to AIDS merely through that lens–, Durbin achieves something important. He presents Peter and Paul as the true humans that they were and allows us, for a moment, to hang out with them in the process.

[Mandy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This wonderfully absorbing biography is a measured and thoughtful study of Peter Hujar and Paul Thek, focusing on both their individual artistic careers and their personal relationship, a biographical and critical study of two central figures in the downtown New York art scene of the 1960s–80s. The book draws on archival material, letters, artworks, and cultural context, and combines biography with elements of criticism and interpretation. The narrative situates Hujar and Thek within a broader artistic and social environment, including the downtown art scene and the impact of the AIDS crisis, which affected both artists (Hujar died of AIDS-related illness; Thek also died in the late 1980s).
Peter Hujar (1934–1987) was an American photographer known for his stark black-and-white portraits, including images of artists, writers, and members of New York’s downtown scene.
Paul Thek (1933–1988) was an American artist associated with sculpture and installation, known for works such as his “Technological Reliquaries.”
A central strength of the book is its attention to how their lives and work intersected. Hujar’s photography and Thek’s installations are considered alongside their friendship and shared milieu, giving a sense of how artistic communities functioned during that period. The book also acknowledges the historical context in which they lived and worked, including the impact of the AIDS crisis on that community. I found the book well-written, extremely interesting and informative and enjoyed the many illustrations. Overall I learnt a lot about these 2 influential artists and feel inspired to examine more of their work.

[Micaela Bass · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful behemoth that I can hardly believe exists. Until this book was published, if you wanted a biography on Paul Thek you had to fork over hundreds of dollars for a copy of Artist’s Artist (I haggled on Amazon for mine). And if you wanted a biography on Peter Hujar, too bad.

This was a really ambitious project for a number of reasons. Hujar and Thek were not ever in a serious relationship with one another, were not heavily or directly involved in each other’s careers, were rarely on the same continent, and weren’t even on speaking terms towards the ends of their lives. I think that Durbin handled their intense and impactful dynamic really well, meaning that he wrote objectively about what was kind of a really complicated friendship. Durbin described the women in the book (Ann Wilson, Susan Sontag, Fran Lebowitz, et al.) as its backbone, which I think is correct. It makes you wonder why other major players in their lives were omitted. Writing a dual biography is a massive feat so I don’t fault the author for getting really clear about his vision, but it is kind of a curious thing.

Overall I think it’s worth a read for anyone interested in Hujar and Thek, but maybe not comprehensive enough for people who already have a strong knowledge of who they were and what they did. It’s a great book to discuss with anyone you know who was part of this scene and ran in their circles, or anyone in your life who lost loved ones to AIDS. In a lot of ways this book serves as a reminder that lives were cut short and relationships never got the chance to heal due to the AIDS crisis.

It’s truly a miracle at all that we have this book.

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

The thesis work for my MA in Critical Theory and Political Aesthetics examples the made-vulnerable status of an artists life through the concurrence of the three intertwined lives of Thek, Hujar, and Wojnarowicz. And so, reading this book placed me in a position of somewhat discomfort as I felt extremely protective of their stories, yet I was also gratified that the lives of Thek and Hujar were being shared on a much larger stage, for a wider audience. Mr. Durbin shows how much of what they as artists were each looking to enclose within the boundaries of their respective forms and media; fragility, evolution, time, and death. Here are the connecting threads that brought them together as friends, lovers, and artists, and also perhaps, the very same ones that caused their separations and detachments. Mr. Durbin brings us into their intimate worlds, coalescing the emotional psychology of their struggles in love, life, and work, through the many relationships both of them demonstrated to have great difficulty with. This is a book about time; of the past, of how things once were, and how as the title states, what "...Almost Was."

[Glen Helfand · Rating 4 out of 5]

Relationships say a lot about a person. This dual biography is about interaction and a creative community, 1960s legendary. It starts with alternating chapters on Hujar and Thek, a format that continues throughout the well-researched volume. It adds another facet to narratives written by others, edging into the Warhol world, the Linda Rosenkrantz friendship that resulted in the recent Peter Hujar's Day film. It is of expats in the 1960s, of pre-Stonewall, pre-AIDS gay life in America, of two artists who became more famous after their deaths. Andrew Durbin has talked about focusing on life over the specter of HIV, though Hujar and Thek were artistically driven by mortality from the start-- the formative experience of seeing catacombs in Italy when they were budding artists is a recurrent theme here. As there may not be enough documentation of the pair's romantic relationship, it's a little difficult to see that as a glue between these men, but there clearly is connective tissue, a relationship to their legacies.

[Debbi James · Rating 4 out of 5]

This dual biography of two men whose lives intertwined as their creativity evolved was beautifully written and moving. It's also a book with lots of well documented history of the art world and gay culture in the 1950's, 60's, and 70's. I recognized the names of some well known people and learned about many more as they interacted with Paul and Peter over the years. Although a good number of pictures are included in the book, I found myself looking up more to see them up close as the book progressed. Durbin is to be commended on sharing the life and times of these two artists with today's readers.

[Martin · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was a a terrific read. I was long familiar with the work of Peter Hujar but less familiar with Paul Thek. Thek's work consisted mostly of evanescent installations on various subjects mostly in Europe. Both men had very complex personalities but Thek's problems seem to border on the pathological. They managed to have a relationship of offs and ons spread over about 10 years. It had unraveled about 1975.

Thek faded into obscurity or became a footnote in art, as his dear friend Susan Sontag quoted. Hujar's fame is probably stronger now than it was at the time of his death. This book does convey a wonderful world of NYC in 1960s Greenwich Village.

[Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

At times incredible, at others a tad frustrating - I found the breadth of material and relationships covered fascinating, but my familiarity with some of the people involved and lack of familiarity with others slowed me down at times, and I think portions were a bit repetitive. Unbelievably well researched and informative - I thoroughly enjoyed learning more about both Peter and Paul and some of the other people involved in their life stories. I also wish there were more photographs / color photographs included of the various artworks referenced throughout the book as I found myself consistently having to stop and look for images of what was being referenced online. Highly recommend!

[Hugh Minor · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don't remember how I heard about his book but I'm glad I discovered it. It was a wonderful time capsule of the intersection of gay culture, art, and society through the mid 20th century. I didn't know the artists before - and because they were hard to pin down - I don't necessarily know them much better but I do have a greater sense for what life was like for them and other gay men during this epic period. It saddened me a bit that their lives were ending just as mine was beginning and that, had they lived a few more years, they might have benefited from the profound discoveries made in the treatment of HIV and AIDS. Let's never forget this lost generation.

[Austin · Rating 2 out of 5]

This lacks any framing or argument as to why should we care. Why are we writing about Hujar and Thek in tandem if they weren’t communicating for most of the last decade of their lives? Why are we writing about them now? Why do they matter? I don’t think any of that is ever articulated here, which makes this biography lose any weight it could’ve had. It ends up reading a bit bland and without depth; a compilation of letters and recreations of life that fails to give readers anything to grab on to. Which is unfortunate for two artists who clearly still matter today. I’m just unsure why.

[Martmota · Rating 5 out of 5]

A due dual biography, beautifully written and so well researched. Loved how friendship as a way of life, work, art is conveyed in this. Also loved the fact that Andrew Durbin has stated that the idea of making this book has been with him since he was a teenager and saw Susan Sontag's dedication to Paul Thek in Against interpretation. In our accelerated period, good writing, like Thek's and Hujar's art, still takes time.

[Dipayan · Rating 3 out of 5]

The author's voice and sexual attraction to Paul Thek is distractingly present. Through the long sweeping arc of the book, the author ultimately fails to make anything more than the most obvious point. BUT, informative about the time, an insight into how self-involved white art gays were, and damning in what it leaves out - they're cavorting around Europe consuming it like a living museum while having zero interest in the civil rights movement unfolding back home.

[chats · Rating 4 out of 5]

I didn’t know much about Hujar or Thek before I read this in-depth, well researched dual biography. It’s less a full biography than a snapshot of the NYC art scene in the 1950s through the early 1980s. Beautifully written, striking and sad.

[Kevin Rainford · Rating 5 out of 5]

Andrew Durbin has created a masterful work which has allowed both Peter Hujar’s & Paul Thek’s legacies to unfold and regain their place in history. I was constantly pausing to find works mentioned and/or people in their orbits. Sublime and vivid.

[Walter Skippy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absorbing.... at times sexy, at times melancholic, and always moving.