#kembra-pfahler

#kembra-pfahler

"Anything that uplifts, empowers, or highlights women's creativity is a yes for me. The current state of the world is doing a number on women, and I want to contribute to their joy."

The concert features 'Field of Sorrow,' a new work by Juhi Bansal, which sets translations of landays, women's poetry from Afghanistan, for soprano, cello, and piano.

Playwright Mikki Gillette—described once as 'the Joan of Arc of the trans community in Portland theatre' by actor and critic Bobby Burmea—sets the work in the lead-up to and immediate aftermath of the 1966 Compton's Cafeteria Riot. We're dropped into the lives of four trans people practically begging the world to care about their pain, but with very different ways of approaching a brighter future.

Finally, all the consciousness I had left was in the center of my head. It was like a little light, and finally it went click. . . . And what I saw with this was my body lashed to the wall, about ten feet away.

In honor of the 100th anniversary of the painter and multimedia artist's birth, the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation is presenting a one-time award of $100,000 to four artists. Senga Nengudi won the Rauschenberg Centennial Award for visual art, David Thomson for performance, Chandra McCormick and Keith Calhoun for photography, and Patricia Spears Jones for writing.

Going out and demonstrating is really important. But if you don't feel comfortable demonstrating, you can volunteer for organizations, you can donate to organizations, you can sign petitions, you can call your senator. There's no excuse not to be involved on some level.

Printed in both color and black and white, images of dancers and friends took the form of abstract portraits, movement series, and pseudo-stop-motion, featuring local artists including Sophia Ahmed, Muffie Delgado-Connelly, Kenny Frechette, Takahuro Yamamoto, Emily Jones, Allie Hankins, performances by Lu Yim, and others. Layered, dark, and moody self-portraits of Krafcik from 2025 also plastered a dark-painted wall opposite some of the other images.

Here are this week's most popular positive stories, with some fun social media posts tossed in too. Like seeing uplifting content like this? Sign up for our Good News email. Congratulations - you've made it past winter's darkest days! (Literally! The days are just getting longer from now until the middle of summer.) But seeing as most of the U.S. is experiencing winter storms this weekend, let our weekly Good News Roundup help keep you warm!

Navigating an industry dominated by white, cisgender, heterosexual men takes a lot of courage, thankfully, Kemah Bob is brimming with it. In 2018, she founded The Femmes of Colour Comedy Club, better known as FOC, with the aim of giving women and trans comedians the tools to take over the comedy world. The American comedian, who uses she/they pronouns, has appeared on Richard Osman's House of Games and BBC's QI. Her comedic skill is undeniable,

The organicity of the human body we're born inside of is encoded in us. This concept of our organic nature as the source of elemental knowledge, at once direct and mysterious, permeates the textural abstractions exhibited in her survey Magdalena Abakanowicz: The Thread of Existence at Musée Bourdelle.

Moni Haworth directed the video for "Dirty Tech," in which the Sonic Youth legend hangs in an empty corporate office dotted with bits of office clutter.

Bendetta's latest single, "Headshot," captures the moment when something shifts: when violent thoughts arise, yet the urge to maintain control prevails. This track navigates themes of anger, boundaries, and the conscious decision to no longer absorb harm without letting it transform you into the one inflicting it. Rather than offering comfort or resolution, "Headshot" demands clarity: it focuses on naming feelings, standing firm within them, and refusing to downplay their significance.

"We Need to Talk About the Massively Hung Zombie," read a headline in Vulture.

In the first clip, the drag performer lip-syncs to audio of Erika Kirk reciting a bible verse at the memorial service for her husband, right-wing Turning Point USA founder Charlie Kirk, who was shot and killed while speaking at an event at Utah Valley University last September.

Relying on saturated planes of color and eschewing almost all minor detail, Christina Zimpel 's approach to figuration is deceivingly straightforward. With prolonged looking, the vibrant fields of color begin to evoke the effects of abstraction-recalling the historical traditions of Fauvism or Post-Impressionism-and the pose and movement of her figures take on heightened significance. Together, there is a delicate tension between the formal and emotional qualities of her work.

I don't know what you want to know, says Anne Imhof, three-quarters of the way into our interview. Her cautious smile, between curtains of jet black hair, changes into a sceptical pout. I have just quoted a headline at Imhof, one of Germany's most important contemporary artists, that described her 2025 New York show as a bad Balenciaga ad.

Tracey Emin is internationally renowned for her coruscatingly confessional art, which for over three decades has chronicled an often tumultuous life in various media, including painting, video, textiles, neon, writing, sculpture and installation. Born in Croydon, London, and raised in the seaside town of Margate, Emin first attracted widespread attention when, as a Turner Prize nominee in 1999, she exhibited the now notorious work My Bed (1998) provoking fierce critical debate on what art could-or should-be.

The path to the first New York solo show for Elda Cerrato (1930-2023), now on view at Galerie Lelong, was a long and winding one. Born in Italy to Jewish parents, Cerrato was a child when her family fled fascism in Europe for South America. Authoritarianism continued to shape her life in adulthood, as Cerrato and her husband and son were forced to leave Argentina to escape persecution at the hands of the country's military junta in 1973.

Last summer, I did face painting at a block party in my Brooklyn neighborhood. In the sweltering August humidity, I rendered pink butterflies and Spiderman webs on tiny, sticky faces; unsurprisingly, my designs didn't last very long in the bouncy castle. Except for the glitter. For weeks, I found it in my hair, on my cats, in my sink, and in random corners of the house, migrating to and fro like dandelion fuzz.