Revisiting Twin Peaks – by James Franco
Recently, I’ve been hearing a whole lot about David Lynch, and not from the Lynch camp or concerning any new projects (what’s it been, eight or so years since Inland Empire?). Rather, I’ve been hearing about Lynch from people who have been re-watching Lynch’s work, especially Twin Peaks. I was in junior high when the series came on, and I was more interested in watchingBeverly Hills, 90210 (the first incarnation, with my man Luke Perry as D-McKay).
But even my young, culturally stilted self couldn’t help being aware of the phenomenon that wasTwin Peaks when it hit prime time. The first season was a juggernaut of creative innovation that television had been waiting for, as the response from critics and viewers clearly showed.
Last time we went to one of Corey Feldman’s parties he freaked out and called us a pervert and accused us of photoshopping images to make him look bad. He also banned VICE (and cameras) from future parties. So when his Valentine’s Day party came along, we snuck in and brought illustrator Johnny Ryan with us.
Did you hear? We went to another one of Corey Feldman’s parties. Cameras were banned, so this time we brought artist Johnny Ryan with us.
For the first time in the half century Roger Ballen has been making photographs, he’s allowing his audience an intimate walk through his world with him. The new documentary short “Asylum of the Birds,” directed by Ben Crossman, depicts the people and places that are the subject matter of his newly released book, Asylum of the Birds
, published by Thames & Hudson. It follows Roger into a bizarre compound outside of Johannesburg, South Africa, where refugees and escaped mental patients live together with birds and rats. This film contains images that will be hard for you to forget.
Click here to watch the film, see more photos, and read our new interview with Roger Ballen
We Went to Another One of Corey Feldman’s Parties
By now, the tale of woe that is Corey’s Angels is the stuff of legend. We went to his birthday party last year, took a bunch of photos he claimed were doctored to make the party look bad, and then our writer was accused of being a pervert. The irony of Corey Feldman accusing someone of sexual deviancy at a party where he charged men $250 to hang around women in lingerie was clearly lost on him.
After a few weeks of Corey furiously tweeting his displeasure over the article, shit died down. Corey went back to retweeting any and all compliments he could find, and all seemed normal… until we saw an ad for a Corey’s Angels Valentine’s Day party. Which was, naturally, scheduled forFebruary 22nd.
It’d be fair to assume we would have learned our lesson and stayed away this time, but like the producers of Lost Boys 2, we went greedily went back for seconds despite having every reason in the world not to. Through cunning, guile, and perseverance (and a $300 entrance fee), we made it back to the Feldmansion.
Obviously, under no circumstances, would Corey allow someone from VICE back to one of his “parties,” so I came up with a pseudonym and invented the backstory that my guest was from out of town and looking to get crazy. The party had a dress code where all men had to wear suits, so I sucked in my gut and squeezed into my Sunday best. Cameras were banned this time around, so I took the illustrator Johnny Ryan with me to draw what happened.
If $300 seems like a lot for two grown men to go to a party, you’ll be horrified to learn that it almost cost more, as Corey’s assistant called me up and tried to claim that the advertised “Early Bird Special” on their website should have been discontinued before we bought our tickets and that we’d need to give Corey an extra $200. We simply refused to pay more and went on our way.
This Hotel in Belgium Is Shaped Like a Giant Anus
Everyone loves hotels. There’s more to it than fresh towels, complimentary mints, and that preview screen for the porn channel. When we enter a hotel room and close the door, there’s a sense of calm that can’t be recreated anywhere else, the understanding that we’re finally out of the filth of our everyday existence. We are living, at least for the night, in a clean, well-lighted place.
This brings us to the anus hotel. More specifically, the Atelier Van Lieshout, CasAnus, 2007, a conceptual one-room hotel made by Dutch artist Joep van Lieshout. The hotel lets its visitors fulfill their lifelong dreams of curling up to sleep in a giant butthole.
Located on a small Belgian island halfway between Antwerp and Ghent, the anus hotel sits alone in the middle of a field, originally commissioned as part of the 30-acre Verbeke Foundation Sculpture Park, the private collection of Geert and Carla Verbeke-Lens. While visiting the park, guests often shack up in the anus, which only sets you back a paltry $165 a night, a small price to pay to hit the hay in a huge ham flower.
Anus Hotel guests will enjoy a double bed, shower, and central heating. The CasAnus series also includes a bar called the BarRectum, which is shaped like a giant intestine. I wanted to know what the hell was going on with this guy, so I recently spoke to Joep to hear more about why he decided to make a giant anus hotel in the middle of a field.
Read the interview
Mossless Magazine’s Mammoth Third Issue
The forthcoming third issue of Mossless
magazine is a nearly 300-page volume of new American documentary photography that will include the work of more than 180 photographers. A number of history’s greatest photographs come from this tradition—shooting people and places in the United States, addressing hidden attitudes and issues that would have otherwise gone unrecognized. In the last decade, the American landscape has changed immeasurably. There are countless photographers documenting every facet of these changes in their everyday lives, and many of them are sharing their work online. The caliber of these photographs is sometimes extraordinary, but the sheer amount of work online is staggering, and the the great mass of images can obscure even the best. Most publishers shy away from the online world because they feel the work has already been consumed, and galleries encourage represented artists to delete their online presence. But Romke Hoogwaerts and Grace Leigh, the publishers of Mossless, have continued to nest themselves inside online communities, compiling a huge sequence of photographs selected from deep corners of the web. They believe giving these lost images permanence in the form of a major photographic volume will give their readers a complete experience of not only the country but the online world of photography as well. And the best part is that they’ve done it all by themselves.
Click here to read our interview with MOSSLESS and find out how you can support their cause