Born and raised in New York, Jeffrey Lewis leads a double-life, as both an illustrator and a singer songwriter. Both his music and comics are permeated by earnest storytelling and often self-depreciating confessions of his many adventures in the world, from heartbreaks to homeless nights on tour. In his self-published comic book series “Fuff” he constantly tries to fall backwards to see if the world will catch him. And so far it did. With a small but devoted audience, he’s been making a profitable career with his music and art by managing most of his business himself, from booking tours to making his own merchandise.

With a shy smile and a shaky voice, he welcomed me to his apartment in the East Village, a little palace of musical and literary treasures where you can glimpse the intriguing puzzle of his creative mind. His work is so self-explanatory that it seemed pointless to ask him about his songs or comics. So we talked about adventures, how art can change the world, the occupy movement and finally dug into some of his personal gems. Meet Jeffrey, the “cult boyfriend” – “lonely or worshipped for a lady in the know”.

Written, filmed. edited and sound by Barbara Anastacio

It was the evening when Venus and Jupiter were perfectly aligned and reached its closest point to the human eye. I was getting ready for dinner with the “godfather” of American avant-garde cinema – Jonas Mekas. Filmmaker, poet and curator, Mekas is a living monument. He fled his native Lithuania at age 22, trying to avoid German arrest at home for anti-Nazi activities. During war, he spent time in various forced labor camps until immigrating to America in 1949. It was only in New York that he picked up his first camera, a Bolex, and ever since he’s been capturing “fragments of paradise” of the world around him. His diary films encompass a wide range of experiences and events, from his early experiences at the Warhol Factory to frenetic glimpses of a summer spent with Jackie Kennedy.  He also co-founded The Anthology Film Archives, a cathedral of independent cinema housing over 70,000 historic avant-garde films.

In his numerous interviews and appearances, Jonas answered pretty much any question one can think of so it seemed redundant to take a formal interview as an approach. Instead, I abandoned any mental script of this encounter and tipsy with awe and wine I just sat back, watching and listening to Jonas and his “holy madness” unravel before me to the cadence of a meal.

Written, filmed and edited by Barbara Anastacio
Sound by Marcelo Oliveira

Last week, Todd Cole’s agent sent me a link to the new video he did for Kate Spade. So many fashion videos are boring, or cheesy, or just kind of mediocre, that I really appreciate when I see a good one. And this one is really good – so much so that I wanted to hear more about how it came about. I also realized that although I’ve known Todd for some time, I didn’t know much about his background and how he came to do what he does, so while I was at it, I sent through a few more questions.

Skye Parrott: I really love the new video you did for Kate Spade, which functions as a choose-your-own-adventure. How did the idea for it come about? Did you have a lot of input on the feel and style of the video, or did that direction come down from the brand?

Todd Cole: Kate Spade approached me with the idea of doing some films with this interactive concept. I thought it was a great idea, super smart and very forward thinking. I thought it was a great progressions to what these fashion brands films can be. They had the initial idea that you could choose whether the girl did a cannonball or swan dive, etc… and I just took that and fleshed out the scripts. Instead of a swan dive, I loved the idea of a swan landing in the pool and disrupting her perfect dive. Kate Spade has such an identifiable brand aesthetic, and that is always a great starting point. We just built on this. The bathing suits recalled the glamour of old Hollywood, and the history of movie stars escaping for long weekends of parties in Palm Springs. So Palm Springs was the obvious location to me from the beginning. I have an amazing production designer named Ruth de Jong who I worked with closely to create this girl’s world. It was so perfectly Kate Spade to me. I was heavily referencing the films of Douglas Sirk, real classic cinematography, graphic. And I only wanted primary colors in the frame.

Skye: It has an amazing shot in it of a swan wiggling its tail. Was that planned or just really lucky?

Todd: Animals are tough to work with…  and swans are generally not nice birds. It was planned. That swan was a pro. We just let her go in the pool and filmed her with long takes as I waited for her to do something spontaneous that would help tell the story and give the bird some attitude!

Skye: You shoot both still and moving images. How different is the process for you of making a video or shooting photographs? What’s the same? Which do you prefer?

Todd: I love doing both, but they are completely different to me. Videos in generally require you to tell a story, or at least string a series of images together over a period of time in a coherent way. Film/video is 24 frames per second, where with photography you can shoot thousands of frames to get just one good one. So film is much more challenging in my opinion. I am a photographer, and I really understand how to compose a frame, but I always work with a DP when doing a video. There are so many other things I need to worry about, and I would rather not have to worry about exposures and the specifics of lighting, etc. I feel like I would be very foolish to try to do it all myself, when I could work with a great DP who has been working in these situations with these cameras for ten years. But photography, especially fashion photography, is about directing your subject to get what you want, as well as lighting, composition, building characters. So I have been surprised on how much of this has translated to directing film/video.

Skye: Since we’re having this little email conversation, tell me a little about how you grew up. Were your parents creative? How did you become a photographer? What do you think you’d be doing with your life if you hadn’t?

Todd: I grew up in Houston, TX. My dad is a scientist and geologist and my mother is an artist and new age shaman for the Junior League and debutantes. So it was a fairly interesting childhood. I was a really good football player in high school – which means more in Texas than most places – so I went to college to play football and just got a business degree because I thought it might be useful. I got out of college and went to work for some stockbrokers and had an existential crisis. So I had a few astrology readings and a past life regression session, and then moved to LA to be a director. I assisted some directors and  I taught myself photography with the help of some good friends who had graduated from the art schools out here.

Honestly, I have always been very serious about creating the life I want to live, so I can’t envision it being any different from what it is.

Skye: Tell me about your first real job as a photographer.

Todd: Oh man. It might have been shooting Paul Verhoeven for Index back in the day. I had him at the Chateau for like 30 minutes. He is super intense, but cool… and one of my favorite films is Starship Troopers, so I fanned out on him for the first five minutes. Telling him he is a subversive genius and that no one got that movie. Then I asked him to hit ping pong balls at me at the ping pong table as I took photos. He went nuts and started slamming ping pong balls at me. He was sweating and had this crazy look in his eye. We did that for like ten minutes and then I took a couple of bad portraits and that was it. Index never ran the ping pong shots, but they were epic.

Skye: What’s the best job you’ve ever done (and – if you want to tell me – the worst)?

Todd: An early best in my career, was shooting a project for Martin Margiela for their SS 07 mens collection. I have always had such respect for him and the label he created. I love the clothes. And then one morning I received and email from the house asking me to do a project. I totally tripped out. I also LOVE my Rodarte films. There in no one I like working with more than Kate and Laura. I think the things we do together is my best stuff. Worst… hmmm… back when I was living in Houston, after I decided I wanted to be a director, but before I moved to LA, I worked for a corporate video company in Texas. We made infomercials and internal videos for home builders and hospitals. I remember some of those as being very dry, to say the least. I had NO idea what I was doing and spent a lot of time in trying to figure out how a camera worked in some track house on the outskirts of Houston.

Skye: When I get interviewed people always ask me what projects I’m working on now. On one hand that feels like a cliché. On the other, it’s nice to have an opportunity to talk about stuff you’re excited about. Can you tell me something you’re working on that feels like a departure? If nothing fits that description, is there anything you have brewing in your head that’s really different than the work you’ve done so far?

Todd: Eventually I would like to direct a feature film. I have written a script for a short film that I am trying to raise some funding for. I am pushing myself more into working with proper actors and dialogue. It’s a whole new world for me, and is deeper creative experience when it comes to making films. I have always been more drawn to quiet films, but  lately everything I write or pitch has a crazy car stunt or big explosion scene. I don’t know why. Hollywood is getting to me, I guess. I am seeing things with Sam Peckinpah eyes.

Opening tonight in Berlin, This Land Was Made for You and Me explores the idea of America, through the eyes of young American photographers. The title is taken from the Woody Guthrie song This Land Is Your Land, which was written as a critical retort to Irving Berlin’s saccharine God Bless America. Guthrie meant for his song to present not just the scenic landscape of the country, but also the social realities. The show looks to explore those present day realities: particularly the experience of being young, right now, in the USA.

When the curators asked if we would want to cover it for the site, I realized that although I knew the title, and the basic premise, I didn’t know much about their thinking behind the show. So I emailed them a few questions, which are answered below.

Skye Parrott: You guys curated a show that I contributed to that is opening in Berlin this week. The theme is America. Does that mean American photographers in particular, or just America as an idea? What is your idea of America?

Ann-Kathrin Obermeyer: The idea is about American photographers and photographers living in America. When I moved to America, I wasn’t surprised because everything was just like in the movies. Although it took me quite a while to feel really comfortable. Being German/European means it’s not always easy, since we lack the openness which America’s culture is based on. I feel so much richer now after succeeding and adjusting.

Adrian Crispin: I grew up in New York and New Jersey, so for me America has always been about the outsiders, the hero/antihero of subculture. Whitman, Steven Segal, etc.

Skye: I find one of the strangest things about being American that wherever you go in the world, your culture has been accessed by people via movies and television. How much has your idea of America been influence by those mediums?

Adrian: I think movies and TV are quintessentially American and equally important in the shaping and informing of my visual background.

Skye: Adrian, you’re a photographer, and Ann-Kathrin, you’re a stylist. How did the idea come about to curate this show? Has either of you ever curated anything before?

Adrian: We were asked by the gallery director, Kirsten Hermann, to curate a show based on our American experience. Despite having no prior curatorial experience , we both know what we respond to and decided to just do it.

Skye: I’ve curated a couple of shows and really enjoyed it. It feels like putting together pieces of a puzzle. How did you go about picking the photographers for this show? How about the specific images?

Ann-Kathrin: It was a long process of looking at lots of people’s work from all different types of backgrounds until we finally narrowed down the selection of photographers whose work we really responded to and then proceeded to choose images that would work together as a group either as a complimentary dialogue with each other or as counterbalance in opposition.

Skye: You’re a couple, right? How do you find the process of working together while being in a relationship?

Adrian: Yes, we are a couple. We met in Paris at a museum bookshop. I was looking at art books and Ann-Kathrin was looking at fashion magazines. We have a very natural, intuitive, and complimentary way of collaborating from grocery shopping to doing editorials together.

Skye: Do you have plans to curate any more shows together? What would be your dream space to curate something in? Who would be part of that show?

Adrian: It has been a great experience and was a lot of work but now that we are almost at the end and about to physically put everything on the wall.

Ann Kathrin: I would do it again any time. I think a dream space would be the MoMa and also a dream (we were always thinking about this) would be having shows in our apartment with some good food. I definitely would ask Juergen Teller to be a part of it.

Adrian: There is a lot of really talented people out there whose work remains to be seen, so I would include the unknowns.

This Land Was Made for You and Me opens Thursday, April 26 from 7-9 pm at the Galerie fuer Moderne Fotografie, Schroederstrasse 13, Berlin, and runs through June 9.

Top image: RJ Shaughnessy, Black Kid, Afro; Middle image: Anna Moller, Rooster, 2009; Bottom image: Grant Willing, Untitled (Capri Sun), 2009

Ana Roman and  Barbara Anastacio Keep it Mellow with some behind the sceens from the Dossier In Conversation interview. With her album, Even Assassins Have Lovers And Romance out this summer, an EP out now, and numerous shows on the near horizon, we were lucky to catch up with her when we did.

Ana Lola Roman is a songstress, but don’t call her a singer. She is a songwriter, but she doesn’t compose ballads. She isn’t concerned with buying infamy; she would like to earn her fame. Her music may be difficult to describe. She is the first to admit it—in fact, she embraces it. The dystopian qualities of the modern world are of interest to her, and through her work she explores the roles that alienation and unease play in our society. Influenced by flamenco and Federico García Lorca, Ana’s Spanish roots are evident in her music, which she defines as “henna-pop.” After touring various parts the American South, Eastern Europe and Germany, she now resides in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where she has been producing a steady stream of EPs over the past year and a half. This month, she will release her fourth EP, titled Keep It Mellow, followed early this summer by her first full-length album, Even Assassins Have Lovers and Romances.

Photography by, Barbara Anastacio. Styling by Ryan Richmond

Erin Kelleher: You are obviously a very multifaceted performer; you sing, you write, you choreograph. How do you define yourself and your work?

Ana Lola Roman: It really depends on where I’m at in my life. I’m not good at being just a “musician.” Some days I’m just a tea cozy or learning the castanets or taking an hour to apply red lipstick. I think there are so many other vessels and transportation systems to get to where you’re going in your heart and head. But if I were to define that feeling, it would be evocation and, on most weekends, dance.

Erin: How do you categorize your music? Do you feel that it can be classified as a specific genre?

Ana: I don’t think of my songs as “songs.” They are acts of evocation, sometimes hymnals, sometimes mantras… I want to create atmosphere channels, to give people that look in their eyes when they dance. [That look] that’s reminiscent of Ian Curtis. I want to create a ritual, an escape—like soul music. In some of my songs, I am using Sephardic prayer chants in the background, especially on “Decode,” a song on the upcoming EP release. Also, I call this music “henna pop.” It takes aspects of flamenco pop, soul music, and Sephardic chants and blends them into one atmosphere. This evocation in song, this longing and truth, is what we call flamenco—or in some parts of Spain, as Lorca put it, “deep song,” where the evocations are beating the same rhythms as the drum. Okay, yes, it’s “electronic/minimal,” but that’s just the vessel it’s camouflaged in. In simpler terms, it’s ghetto flamenco dance music for people who are channeling in the guise of electro soul—that’s henna pop.

Erin: Describe the process of your work. Do you write a song first, or do the words come after the music?

Ana: I write with my eyes and what’s happening against the grain of things. It’s frustrating for some, simply because I’m a musician, programmer, engineer and a collector of sounds, samples and emotions. I don’t listen to other bands very much, although I do go to live shows a lot. I listen to moods, like the way an ambulance siren sounds outside my window when it’s raining, or the look in some anonymous man’s eyes walking down the street. Contemporary photography is also a major influence for me. Some of the performance artists I know here in Brooklyn and in Manhattan are influences for me. I write at early dusk and dawn. I wake up everyday at 7am, and I’m in bed by 12:30am. Afternoon is hard; it’s when I’m too busy being realistic about life and not in my creative fruits at all. I don’t write everyday, either. It usually comes in a one-week nonstop burst.

Erin: Where do you record? Do you have your own studio?

Ana: I’ve recorded in abandoned CIA stations, my bedroom, my kitchen, at shows and on my rooftop. Everywhere is my private studio.

Erin: Do you always perform solo?

Ana: No. It depends on the environment and the situation. When I decide to play with someone, it’s a drummer. Always. Sometimes the beats need more flushing out, depending on the acoustics of the room.

Erin: What do you hope to portray with your music? How do you want listeners to receive it?

Ana: I want people to think about what they are doing to themselves in life and how they are listening to the world around them. Then, I want them to let it go and dance. In some ways, I want to provide people with an escape, but in some ways this is confrontational music. I don’t sing about love. We’ve already said everything we needed to say about it. In essence, most people feel alienated by that, but honestly I’m trying to put more pressing matters to light: alienation through technology, relationships over a Skype screen, surveillance, excess, haves and have-nots. If you listen to the words, it’s really not that comfortable in essence, like soul music. Soul music has a groove, provides an escape but under no certain terms does it speak about the ease of life, no way. There is no ease of life in my music. If it’s not evoking something, it’s hard for me to get into it. I’d expect my listeners to have the same feeling. I also want people to know that I’m not a singer. I cannot sing for them and make them feel good and impressed because of my voice or vocal ability. I’m not doing this to achieve “starlet of the year” or the latest blog music trend of the season. I’m not good at keeping one style within my vocal chords. I’m in this for the long haul, and yes, sometimes I’m gonna leave a trail of my own innards laying about. Really, I just want people to listen. People have stopped “listening” to the words in music nowadays. Everything is such a goddamn wall of sound. By the time my generation is 55, we’re all going to be hard of hearing.

Erin: How has your music developed over time?

Ana: I really can’t keep up with how much it’s changed. I believe in reinvention, in pushing yourself from beyond and above. If you don’t, it’s just overspecialization, and I think there’s way too much of that in music nowadays—what with all the new genres that have popped up.

Erin: Talk a little about your upcoming album.

Ana: It’s an EP called Keep It Mellow. All I’m going to say is that I was taken over by the jinn of love, life and risk. I rolled the dice with my heart, my vision and with the notion that I have nothing to lose. The album drops this summer. I also have a full-length release this summer for another album, Even Assassins have Lovers and Romances.Clearly, I’ve always been fascinated with the violence and repercussions that can come from loss of love.

Erin: Where is your music available?

Ana: You can access it on my website. I will be selling vinyl by the fall.

Erin: Describe how you feel about the fact that music has become so digitalized. Does it create a kind of disconnect from you and your audience?

Ana: Not at all. For instance: An audience comes and some of the audience didn’t plan on seeing me play—they were just there by happenstance. They will then do one of three things: see me again, never learn my name or not remember at all the next morning. Listeners on the Internet, they are dedicated—they write, they blog, they send emails, they follow… I’m not one of those musicians who complains about how everything is too available.

Erin: Have you always played music? What were you doing before you put out your first EP?

Ana: No. It only happened at the age of seven because I shattered my collarbone in gymnastics. My mother wanted me to play Ava Maria, so she put me in piano lessons. I’ve always been very frenetic. Thank God my mother knew I had to channel it in some way.

Erin: Is it difficult to make a living as a musician? Do you have any advice for others who are trying to do the same?

Ana: It’s not difficult to make a living as a musician if you are willing to invest and collaborate with people. Be open to any opportunity, even it’s completely opposite to the opportunity you had hoped would come your way. Be gracious, be bold, stand your ground.

Erin: Where will your next tour be?

Ana: I’m not sure yet.

Erin: Describe what it’s like to be on tour.

Ana: I’ve toured the Southeastern US, Eastern Europe and Germany. Germany is my favorite because audiences are not interested in what they are going to write in their blogs while seeing me play; they are interested in moving to the music and being taken away.

Erin: You currently live in Brooklyn. How does the city affect your work?

Ana: Cities always affect my work. I write and I’m inspired the most while traveling and being on the go. New York City is where I put theory into practice, always.

Erin: Where are you from originally?

Ana: Oklahoma. I’m a true American, too. My parents came to this country from Spain and Argentina. They were immigrants who established themselves here either because of government or economics. Even growing up in a somewhat liberal and friendly idyllic small town, I always felt a bit removed culturally—especially when someone just assumed I was either Mexican, Filipino or Puerto Rican. Saying you’re Spanish—as in, from Spain—didn’t quite fit into the scheme of things in those parts.

Erin: Are you involved with fashion, living in New York City?

Ana: I’m not involved in the business of fashion. I’m involved in the business of personal style, aesthetic and expression, with being around others who have a strong sense of those qualities and are living their ideas and passions. Fashion is passing and fleeting. I do love reinvention, though.

Erin: Do you believe in love?

Ana: I do believe in love. I experience it every day that I’m alive, and I have a lot to give. Maybe it has affected my music, but like I said before, everything has already been said about the subject. My voice expresses enough lament for love and exhilaration from love that I do not find the need to address the issue in lyrics.

Erin: Who inspires you musically? Do other artists inspire you as well?

Ana: Lately, Richard Mosse’s photography is a huge influence. Andrea Mary Marshall is sacred to me right now; her paintings explain a lot of what I feel as a woman. Federico García Lorca and Hunter S. Thompson keep me riveted. Thích Nhất Hạnh for meditations, Osho for philosophy. The 48 Laws of Power by Robert Green for practical enlightenment. As far as music goes, Persian symphonies, Flamenco deep song, Asturian guitar music, Tuvan throat singing and Balinese gamelan all inspire me lately. My favorite bands right now are Band of Horses, LITURGY, S.C.U.M. and Violens, and I’ve been listening to Joy Division, Severed Heads and Wire since I can remember.

Erin: Do you have a favorite instrument?

Ana: People forget piano is a percussive instrument—anything I can bang on. Otherwise, I’m not interested. Bass is the only stringed instrument I have the patience for. I’m not the ballad type.

Erin: I have heard you say that you want to “earn your fame” rather than “buy your infamy.” Describe what you mean by that.

Ana: If you are going to be infamous, put some class into it and earn it—have the fame to back it. Elizabeth Taylor and Cleopatra were infamous, but they had to be smart and resourceful. Liz Taylor—the first infamous woman of the 20th century—she goddamn earned it. She had talent to back it, she had the will, know-how and dedication; she was a machine. Okay, so she’s also sleeping with other women’s husbands, but so what? It goes beyond a reality show. That’s just too easy. I’m not going to name any of the other names that are opposite of this opinion. I never speak negatively about another female artist. I love Rihanna, Lady Gaga, Lana Del Rey, Madonna, Gloria Estefan, Paula Abdul, Adele, Bjork, Siouxsie and, lately, iamamiwhoami. In my book, there’s room for everyone, but not for infamy.

Erin: What do you hope to achieve by the end of the year?

Ana: I want to see my first Madonna concert. I want to grow as a musician and keep pushing myself beyond limits. I want to learn from my audience and with my audience. I want to meet some of the people who are listening to my music. I want to completely show my heart without any fear, regardless of who writes or doesn’t write about me—approval means nothing to me. Creation and innovation for one’s own livelihood, that is life and bread to me. I don’t want to be scared about what I have released into the world, and I want to keep moving forward.

Ana wears Earrings: Chrishabana Jacket: Mathieu Mirano Bottoms: Jac Langheim Shirt: Sally La Pointe

When Gertrude Stein declared, “A writer should write with his eyes and a painter paint with his ears,” she was challenging artists to shift their perceptions. The upcoming exhibition at the Fondation d’Enterprise Hermès, opening March 16, takes the assignment a step further, tasking not only the artist but also the subject of the work and the viewer with this complicated mission. Titled Matt Ducklo & Matthew Monteith: Mind’s Eye, it examines the way in which an individual views and experiences art, referencing the personal biases and perceptions that influence our encounters. Photographs by Matthew Monteith capture art viewers in Rome as they consider different works—from the Roman Forum to Bernini’s David. Matt Ducklo, meanwhile, presents images from his series “Touch Tours,” which documents blind and visually impaired individuals in prestigious art museums as they use their sense of touch to “see” artwork. From their particular corners of America, Matt in Memphis and Matthew in New York, the artists took a moment to discuss the deceptive nature of photography, the enimga of art and why you should carefully consider that café au lait before hitting the MoMa.

Erin Dixon: Tell us a bit about your respective projects.

Matt Ducklo: I was photographing seeing-eye dogs in New York City and before that I had been photographing newscasters, which I still do, on their sets. One day, I saw a seeing-eye dog get on the bus with a newscaster, and I started thinking more about seeing-eye dogs and living in New York City and getting around and navigating the world—having this animal be your eyes. Then, a friend told me about the touch tour program at the [Metropolitan Museum of Art]. I’d never heard of it and thought it sounded amazing, so I went to the Met and I photographed touch tours in the Egyptian Galleries there, and then I found out that there are programs like that all over the place. Once I took the first picture, I knew that this was something I wanted to do.

Erin: Matthew, how did you arrive in Rome and did your motivation for the series come prior to your arrival in the city or after having observed people observing art there?

Matthew Monteith: It kind of goes back to the work that I did for a book with Aperture called Czech Eden. It’s not related in any direct way, but I was interested in these particular concepts of “paradise” and who creates what kind of social utopia based on what ideology. How does it work and what happens in that whole process? Then I went to graduate school at Yale, and when I was there I got very interested in this idea of “thinking utopias.” Do they work and does art education work? And how does it work when it does work? Then I heard about the American Academy in Rome, and I started to think about the Villa Medici and the development of all these different academies in Rome—how they were created to sort of make these national tours of art, which was important to Western society in some way. Then I went to Rome and I visited the Academy, and I realized, “Wow, this is this sort of incredible, anachronistic thing—and also wonderful.” People go for an entire year and they stay there, they look at art…and I knew that was something I had to do. I had to get engaged with that. I think there was also something about how classical art relates to contemporary work in some way.

Erin: How did your own way of viewing art change during that period?

Matthew: Well, I didn’t really have any formal education in art history at all. So when I went to Rome, I saw it as this opportunity to do exactly that—to go around to people who knew tremendous amounts about all sorts of different architecture, art, painting and everything. I got to experience that first-hand, which was really wonderful. I’ve always been really intrigued by the idea that you go to a museum or a gallery and you see a piece of work; you see it once and it really excites you. Then you come back a year later, and you go to the same city and you say, “I’m gonna go back and see that sculpture. It’s going to be great!” You walk in and something has changed. It looks totally diminutive and you’re like, ”What? That’s not the same thing.” Or it’s way better than you imagined. It’s so much about what you bring to it. That’s something I was really interested in as well.

Matt: What Matthew just said, I agree with a lot. I don’t live in New York right now, but I did. And now whenever I go back for a couple weeks, I hit all the museums. I look at a lot of art and I enjoy it so much, but it’s crazy how much your own psychological state or whether you’ve had a cup of coffee or not [affects how] you react to something on one visit. Then, you see it again and don’t react to it. Or you feel nothing and then the next day you’re thinking about it. I don’t get to touch art, but when you’re touching a work of art you’re getting a special privilege that sighted people don’t have, which is exciting. You’re having access to a world that you can’t fully access. It’s probably a lot heavier than me strolling through the American Wing at the Met. Each [touch tour] “viewing” is a thing. You go up, you get permission, you touch it… It’s not like you can spend five seconds looking at this and turn around for 15 seconds and look at that.

Erin: How, then, do you define art as an entity, given that you’re working with people who are both sighted and not?

Six Percent, San Bernardo, Rome, Italy, 2009. Archival pigment print, 24 x 32 inches.

Click “Read More” for additional text and images.

Matthew: I think it’s probably a bit like…what was it in the obscenity trials? You know it when you see it?

Matt: That’s hilarious. I called a friend last night and she said the exact same thing, but I don’t even know [art] when I see it. When you make a book and you edit the book, you hone it and try to make the sequence good and resonate. You cut things out and put things in, and you think about how people are going to perceive it. Then the thing gets printed and it goes off; it’s like this ship that sets sail. You no longer own it or have any control over it. It goes out into the world and people see it however they are going to see it. It’s always so surprising; they tell you, “Oh, I love that thing,” or “I hate that you did this.” And you didn’t have any way of anticipating any of this. I guess what I’m saying is: Some work goes out on that journey and it just crashes. It doesn’t ever arrive. There is no levity to it. Whereas for other works, those perceptions carry them along—something resonates. It doesn’t have to be what you intended, necessarily, but it goes on and develops its own life. I guess that’s the closest thing I can think of: Does it develop it’s own life? Does it resonate? Does it keep going on?

Erin: Given that, why is photography an important artistic medium—particularly if you say that art is something that takes on a life of its own? Can photographs be as ambiguous as other art forms?

Matthew: It’s a tricky thing, but for me that’s what I’m attracted to about photography. It seems that it is so specific, because it has to represent what was in front of the lens at the moment of exposure. So we have this belief. We say, “There’s the thing we can trust it.” But the more engaged with photography anyone gets—and you don’t have to get that engaged—the more you start to realize that’s not it at all. Photography is a total fabrication and it’s really ambiguous because it has the ability to convince us of the reality. I guess that’s the thing that keeps me excited about photography: this sort of razor’s edge. It’s the thing that makes me think it might be one of the most surreal and bizarre mediums that there is out there.

Matt: I agree, because that’s kind of it for me too. I’m a very gullible person. I look at a picture and my first instinct is to believe what I see. I guess 100 years from now, they won’t see photography that way at all, but right now I look at photography and my gut instinct is to believe that actually is what happened.

Matthew: It’s almost like a faith-based practice.

Matt: That’s exactly right. But isn’t art [in general] a faith-based practice? You can be competent but you have to have some sort of faith that something good is going to happen. I know it sounds hokey…

Erin: And by good, you mean its resonation factor?

Matt: That some magic is going to happen. Something is going to happen that you couldn’t have predicted, because if you predicted it there wouldn’t have been magic. Something is going to happen that is beyond yourself. You can’t make magic. You just have to have some faith that if you work hard enough and are consistent then something will happen. But if you don’t work hard, nothing will happen.

Matthew: There’s a Raymond Carver essay, “On Writing,” though it could be about anything. In it, he’s talking about writing short stories, getting a phrase or a sentence and realizing that this phrase or sentence comes out of the mouth of this [character], and the character sort of emerges and develops, and you [as the artist] just keep sketching it, redoing it until it feels right and true. That’s exactly what Matt was just saying in a way. With photography, there are these instantaneous gifts that happen, and they are more pronounced because they happen in the world that you could have never dreamed up.

Erin: So what role does the viewer play in creating the meaning of a photograph or in discerning its magic?

Matthew: It’s a kind of difficult because everyone brings their own meaning, but I think there is something about pictures that resonates. Different people have these different readings of them, but there is something shared, so you can say, “That’s a great picture,” or “I know that picture.” Then you can disagree completely about the meaning of the picture but there is something sort of ineffable about the quality of certain things.

Erin: What does the way in which people view art reveal about them? Did you find yourself judging them?

Matthew: I think that’s a primary issue whenever you’re making a portrait. Not that my pictures in Rome are portraits, but they do include that element. [How a person views art] deals a lot more with who the person is, how they see themselves and how they want to project themselves—and do they understand what you are doing? Are they participating in the whole idea or are they just trying to be in your picture? If they are just trying to be in the picture, it never works. It’s tricky. There’s a lot of failure. There are a lot of people you think are going to be really great. Then you take them somewhere—and you think, ‘That’s wonderful; their work revolves around this subject,’ and it’s terrible. It’s a disaster. You waste the entire day. The people who are best are those who really get lost in the process. The more successful photographs were made on the fly or they were heavily set-up to the point where people were exhausted, then they just started looking at the thing and they didn’t care what I was doing anymore.

Erin: Where does fashion or clothing factor into your photographs?

Matthew: One of the things I’m always disappointed in is when someone has too well a curated sense of fashion. In the pictures in Rome, that’s definitely a factor. I always sort of wished that if you made an appointment with somebody, it would be somebody who was maybe wearing some really ugly shoes with maybe a really nice skirt with maybe a mismatched dress, because this is how life really happens. I was just recently doing a job for the architects who did the redesign for Lincoln Center and it involves people passing through the space, so it’s spontaneous in some ways, and the people in Lincoln Center really have one of the best off-kilter senses of fashion. You have ladies waiting in line for scalper tickets and they’re wearing a pair of house slippers and some kind of Patagonia leggings, but they’re also wearing a fur coat.

Erin: Did your project achieve its goal and/or what about the project makes you proud?

Matt: I guess I’m proud of the fact that it’s a lot of work to get access [to the museums]. It’s a lot of emails and it’s a real drag to get these things organized and get permission to bring a big camera into a museum, but I keep doing it and I keep finding it interesting. Most of the pictures are in focus. I don’t really know what I set out to accomplish, but I like the pictures and I still want to take more. It’s part of a continuum and I still find it interesting after nearly five years…so that’s something.

Matthew: Something I love about the touch-tour pictures is that there is something that is totally non-visual, because how do you make photographs of something that isn’t a visual thing, in general?

Matt: I thought a lot about the fact that it seems sort of screwed up to take a photograph of someone who can’t see the photograph but who is experiencing art. Of course everyone knows they’re being photographed, and even though you might not know what a photograph looks like, you know what it is.

Erin: Given that, do the two of you feel there is a shared thread that binds your works?

Matt: Sure, there is the exploration of the modes of perception. That’s definitely the impetus behind both of these projects in some way, though I suppose you could say that about anything…

Matthew: We all spend a lot of time looking at art and [when you do that], you question the process. We were talking about this before… Sometimes you go and see something and you have this great experience, and sometimes you don’t. It’s not always about the art. It is, a lot of times, about you.

Erin: Can you tell me about current influences and projects, and how the projects we’re discussing here have influenced your present work?

Matthew: I’ve started taking pictures of docents, mostly. My wife is writer and very interested in history. She was a docent at the Merchant’s House Museum in Lower Manhattan for quite awhile, and when I got back from Rome I was sort of captivated by this idea of history and the things we think we know but that have to be told. They have to be told in a way that is enticing and interesting and accurate. All these scholars in Rome are constantly talking about the validity of this concept versus this concept; it’s kind of ridiculous on some level, but the narration of stories is really interesting. The more I watch people describe things and try to convince you, the more I realize: This is amazing—these gestural forms people make and the way they contort their faces when explaining which emperor slaughtered more people, or didn’t… So when I came back, I started to try and make these pictures of docents engaged in sort of “fraught” moments of description, but I think I only have two.

Matt: I am photographing church vans that are locked in cages. Two years ago, I moved to Memphis, where I grew up and [where] there are lots of churches. There are churches in rough neighborhoods or [in places] where there isn’t enough money to have a full-time staff, so they lock up their vans in cages with barbed wire around them and they’re usually the exact size of a parking space. I do it at night.

Erin: In curating the images you would show in this exhibition, what led you to select the particular images you did?

Matthew: It’s a little challenging as there are really two parts of the project: There are these funky little weird abstractions of my own observation, which I made largely with this Canon G10 point-and-shoot camera. Some of them are made on film and they’re in all different formats, but all of them are sort of odd, quirky observations. It’s kind of like when you go to a museum and you think you’re going to see this great thing, and then the baseboards in the museum are really weird and you get really caught up in this architectural detail or another random thing—the light fixture or the view… I really wanted to make those super subjective pictures. I think that’s what’s really interesting about looking at things. Then I sort of balanced them against these other pictures of people having their experience. Those I didn’t want to be so much about the space as they were about the people and what was happening to them in that space. So I kind of organized [my images] in a way that you have those pictures and you have the little detailed pictures, and the detailed pictures are smaller. I think they’re like 15 by 20 inches and the pictures of people looking are like 25 by 30 inches.

Matt: I have taken one Touch Tour picture in the last two years, so I put the pictures I had. I know that’s a bad answer. There’s not really much of a difference in the actual form of the pictures so I just picked the best pictures.

Left: Walk, Don’t Walk, 1976, Whitney Museum of American Art, 2011. C-print, 50 x 40 inches. Right: Marie Breath, Rome, Italy, 2009
Archival pigment print, 24 x 30 inches.

Matt Ducklo & Matthew Monteith: Mind’s Eye runs from March 16-April 28, 2012 on the fourth floor of Hermès at 691 Madison Avenue.

Lead Image Left: Notation Leaves, Rome, Italy, 2008. Archival pigment print, 15 x 20 inches. Lead Image Right: Evocation of a Form: Human, Lunar, Spectral (1950, enlarged and cast 1957), Hirshhorn Museum, 2008, C-print, 50 x 40 inches.

Who would think a former Miss Teen Wisconsin’s pearly whites would extend from ear to ear when talking about bathing in blood or starting a cult? But this sums up the complex, varied and arguably balanced nature of artist and Ford model Myla DalBesio.

The modeling industry has pegged her as the next Crystal Renn while the art world has tossed around names such as Marina Abramovic when describing the emerging artist’s fiercely ambitious and honest performance work. Myla caught major attention a few months ago during the Chelsea Art Walk for her show entitled Young Money, where she gave willing participants bare-breasted, “faith-healing” lap dances while doused in cheap champagne. Now, she moves closer to the religious aspect of her work with the first piece in a new series entitled Holy Ghost, presented at the SPRING/BREAK Art Show (a new curator-driven art fair during the Armory Arts Week, March 6 – 11)

After rushing to arrive from a long day on set, Myla punctured the stillness of a quiet room with a surge of colorful energy, greeting me with a huge hug and a bottle of wine. In conversation and in practice, she seems to have a firm grip on the balance between the lighter and darker sides of life, as she jumped from beautifully painted tales of frolicking nude in South American oceans under the veil of psychedelic substances to the death of both of her parents.

While it’s interesting that Myla’s plus-sized modeling career is soaring in the absence of Crystal Renn, I would rather talk about enchanted herbs and sacred rituals than fashion, body image or modeling because, if I have learned anything from Myla’s work, it’s that you’re allowed to curate the world in which you would like to exist. You decide what it looks like and who gets to live there, and today Myla is my favorite visitor. If her adorable Betty Page smile and endearing Wisconsin accent (Oh my gaad!) do not mesmerize you, perhaps her ideas will.

Jacquelyn Gallo: Tell me about your new work.

Myla DalBesio: I’m showing a sculptural and photo installation.  It’s the first piece in what I intend to be a series called Holy Ghost. This one specifically is called Holy Ghost: We Can Make You Pure. Its all about purity and protection. I was really thinking a lot about the idea of baptism going into this.

Jacquelyn: Were you baptized?

Myla: No, I was not raised in a very religious household. For many years we practiced in a Unitarian Universalist church which makes you open to everything. Then we stopped going. My mother had cancer and when she was nearing the end she adopted a Christian Science faith. I put a lot of faith in that and then she died. I think I lost every sense of faith in God that I had for a long time. I remember being like, “I don’t believe in God, I’m an atheist!” which I don’t find to be true anymore. I guess I would say I am “spiritual.” But I am still fascinated by religion of all types, specifically Catholicism and its ties to Pagan religion, like with Voodoo and Santeria, and the parallel between the two like the worshipping of different saints and deities. That’s where this piece is coming from. What I’m trying to do is create what I’ve colloquially been calling “spirit saints.” This is the first of that series. I shot the photo in Pennsylvania last summer, it’s my boyfriend in the photo.

Jacquelyn: Is he a spirit saint?

Myla: (laughs) I wouldn’t call him a saint. He gives a lot to me, more on a partner level than an idolizing level.

Jacquelyn: So the spirit saints, how did that form in your head? Do you see these saints? Is it only a creative thing or something you feel spiritually inclined to do or both?

Myla: I don’t see myself ever worshipping at the alter of these saints. It’s more an expression of these different focuses and energies that I feel and sense in nature and in the world. It’s a manifestation of that and less of something to be worshipped. Although, the way that I’m presenting it, is more in the vein of something that’s being worshipped. Basically, I’m building an altar to the spirit saint. A lot of materials I used are coming from the reference of magical herbs like grass and pine. Also what I find purifying like salt, the ocean, crystals. But also I feel this strange connection to other materials like fake nails and horse hair and eyeshadows. I like the idea of these everyday things that you become obsessed with.

Jacquelyn: You’re attracted to rituals?

Myla: Yes, the ritualistic aspects of these kinds of things. I’ve always been obsessed with this idea of creating a religion, creating something totally different but incorporating all of my interests. Like when Evangelicals get possessed by the holy spirit and they speak in tongues, that’s something I find really attractive, and saint candles, alters, things like that. So, taking little pieces from all of these practices and combining them into one imaginary practice.

Jacquelyn: And the name Holy Ghost?

Myla: I’m so attached to that name. It holds so much power, it’s creepy but amazing. In Evangelical practices they talk about washing in the blood of Jesus. This is an amazing blessing where you feel clean afterward but really what they’re talking about is bathing in blood.

Rosalie Knox (photographer): That is so metal!

Myla: (laughs) I mean obviously they don’t mean it in a literal sense but when you break it down in the literal sense it is so creepy!

Jacquelyn: And awesome.

Myla: And awesome!

Jacquelyn: You mentioned Voodoo and Santeria. Some people think that it’s a darker side of magic. Are you attracted to a darker element and how does that play out in your work?

Myla: Absolutely, I’m definitely attracted to the darker aspect of life in general. What’s interesting about Voodoo is that it gets this loose rap of being terrible, like this Hollywood zombie/Voodoo doll thing but really, it’s not like that at all, it’s a practiced religion.

Jacquelyn: Do you think that magic can have a real influence though?

Myla: I think it’s more about energies. I’m really into symbolism and how to practice magic with herbs by enchanting them. I think mostly what it is is a concentration of energies. The most important thing is visualizing and focusing all of your energy on this thing that you want to achieve. The way I look at it is, if you’re focusing constantly on this thing you want to achieve you’re going to achieve it anyway because that’s what you’re putting all of your time and energy into. It’s a reminder, think about this thing that you want, work towards it. Put out that energy into the universe and then you can reap the benefits from it.

Jacquelyn: Have you heard of the laws of attraction?

Myla: Yeah, or The Secret (laughs). I was researching cults for a few months. I had this idea in the future, in the same vein of creating this religion, of creating a Jim Jones cult type of thing. I just always thought it would be so interesting to approach it like it was real. I told a friend of mine, if I really get into this you have to make sure that I don’t start believing what I was saying. No one ever starts something going “I’m gonna start a cult, then we’re gonna get all freaky and then I’m gonna tell everybody to kill themselves.” I think everything starts with the best intentions and then it turns when you get power, when you realize how much you are influencing people. It really fucks with your head when you realize you can get away with anything and when you have no limits or boundaries. What that can do to a person I think is really interesting… and terrifying.

Jacquelyn: What motivates you to want that power?

Myla: I don’t want that power! It’s tough and that’s why I was warning my friend to keep me in check. I don’t feel that desire to be in control of people. I mean I’m really bossy and I’ll give advice to everyone on what I think is right, but I’m not a puppet master and I don’t aspire to be that. But I do find that personality really fascinating so I’m interested in pursuing that. I think I haven’t taken it there because I’m not strong enough to do that yet, to push the art side of it as far as I possibly can without letting it change me and who I really am. But I do have it all planned out!

Jacquelyn: You do?!

Myla: Yeah, I started writing the manifesto. But I also have 8 million projects going at one time because I’m so ADD.

Jacquelyn: Well, the most important part is knowing what the cult followers are going to wear, so I hope you have that down.

Myla: Clearly! The other thing I’m working on right now is trying to meld what I see as two different sides of my artistic interests. One of those sides is this religious, mystical, spiritual, hippie shit. And the other side is this obsession with all the gross, awesome, crazy shit that happens in our everyday lives, and that’s where Young Money came from.

Jacquelyn: Yes, tell me about Young Money. I thought it was amazing… unless you don’t want to talk about it?

Myla: I said the other day that anytime someone asks me about it in an interview I’m just going to say, “I’m not talking about it anymore!” (laughs), but I’m just being whiny because that’s all anyone ever asks me about. As soon as you take your tits out, that’s what everyone wants to hear about. What’s funny is that it was not my intention to be topless. I bought a swimsuit that was purposely way too small for me because I wanted it to cut into my fat in an unappealing way. The goal was to try to make myself as ugly as possible (note: during the piece Myla wore heavily applied fake tanner, makeup and a tight bathing suit) and then  everything gets stripped away. The fake tanner came off all over the walls, on the people I was touching and the pillow and clearly my swimsuit came off. It is interesting because while that wasn’t the intention going into it, what came out of it was so much more than that not just for the piece itself but for me personally. The growth that I experienced through that piece was something that I was not expecting and it was really hard to deal with.

Jacquelyn: How did you feel after?

Myla: Really fucked up. I was physically fucked up because I consumed so much champagne, but also mentally. For an hour I was sobbing in the shower. There was so much emotion and so much connection to so many different individuals that were complete strangers. When I was sitting with someone in the performance I was really focused on giving myself to that person and really being true to the connection that we were sharing and trying to illicit the same from them. That is really emotionally draining and afterwards it was like I had nothing left inside of me. I’ve never really experienced that feeling before. It was so powerful to be that exposed and raw with complete strangers.

Jacquelyn: To me it seemed like you were working out a lot of issues with shame. Did you feel shameful afterward?

Myla: I definitely felt shame. That’s interesting that you say that, I guess maybe I haven’t really addressed that before. Looking back, watching the footage, the feeling that I get is the same kind of feeling when I walk down the street and guys are hollering at me. That kind of experience always makes me close up, I find myself slouching down, almost cowering. But I still feel proud of this piece because I’ve gotten a lot of feedback from people who participated in it and they really picked up on what I was trying to do.

Jacquelyn: Both men and women?

Myla: Yeah, both men and women. The shame really comes from the people who didn’t get it. It’s not that I am ashamed of myself or what I did. It’s just a feeling of being uncomfortable because someone is taking advantage of you, taking advantage of the situation and taking it totally out of context. And that’s really disappointing. There was a guy who sat down towards the end of the piece who was constantly trying to grab my breasts and that is so offensive to me.

Jacquelyn: It’s important though.

Myla: Yeah, and I’m glad that I had that experience.

Jacquelyn: You’re taking one for the team.

Myla: I mean, I definitely did. I needed someone to sit down in that chair and be a total asshole. But you know what is so funny?  The next day he added me on Facebook! I was like are you fucking serious? No, I will not be your friend! But I’m glad he was a dick because it made the experience more powerful. Something that I find really tricky about this is that I almost feel like I’m exploiting these women that do this on an everyday basis. It’s tough because that is never my intention, to exploit women like that in any way. I felt an ounce of what they must experience constantly and it was just so hard. I can only imagine you have to make yourself numb in the same way that I am now numb to all of these assholes who yell at me when I walk down the street. You just have to put on your headphones and block it out.

Jacquelyn: Now your work is really focused on spirituality. How does ego, control and realization of the self play into it, does that come out in your work?

Myla: Sure. Honestly I really feel like any artist that’s practicing and willing to put their shit out there has to have some kind of major ego, otherwise how are you going to have the balls to do it because you face so much criticism every time you do anything. We all suffer from insecurities but you have to really believe in what you’re doing in order to get it out there and I do.

Jacquelyn: Before our interview you were telling me that you were going to do a performance piece but because of issues with the church and the space you weren’t able to. Can you tell me a little about what happened with the performance you had planned but are now unable to do?

Myla: Oh yeah, it’s not anyone’s fault, there’s no blame to be cast anywhere. The space that the show is in is an old Catholic school and it’s still in control of the church. The people that run it were concerned. Honestly, I respect the church. A lot of what I say or do and what I intend to do in the future could easily be interpreted as anti-religious or anti-Catholic but it’s not. I hold these religions and these practices in the highest regard and I respect what they’re doing and I wouldn’t want to be in their own space stepping on their toes. What I had originally planned was a performance that was going to tie into the piece that I have installed involving acts of contrition, group purification and baptism. It seems like that might have been a little too touchy to move forward with so the piece changed into something else involving the social construct of what makes a woman feminine and desirable. I hang out with a lot of girls that don’t feel the need to embrace that kind of acceptable femininity. I was going to take over this giant boy’s bathroom in the school. I was really inspired by a road trip I took through Appalachia with some very dear friends of mine all of whom had very short hair and one of whom looks very androgynous. She used to live as a boy when she was younger. She’s no longer doing that but she still has some masculine features in her face. Going through the rural parts of Appalachia, she had to basically masquerade as a boy because that’s what everyone was addressing her as and there was such an air of aggression and hostility towards anyone that wasn’t known. It became really terrifying after a while to the point where she felt she had to use the boy’s bathroom. So I was really thinking a lot about girls in the boy’s bathroom. That’s where this piece that is no longer happening came from. But that didn’t take place because of spatial restrictions. I was asked to make a number of compromises which, because I’m such a dick about how I want my work presented, I wasn’t willing to make.

Jacquelyn: So will this work take place somewhere else?

Myla: Hopefully, and maybe even in the same building just under different circumstances.

Jacquelyn: Is there anything else coming up that you want to plug or talk about?

Myla: I’m in the process of confirming a performance for a show in Europe, possibly to take place at the beginning of next year. It’s focused on the American ideal of the perfect woman and how it’s been recycled. I think of it as very 1970s/80s but this Americana woman is still being recycled through all of the young hip kids’ work, like chicks in jean jackets in front of American flags, drinking beer. I don’t hate that image – I think of myself as an American fucking chick! I have an American flag shirt and jean jacket and I love to drink beer, but it’s more about this idea that’s being forced upon you. When I think about making work, what comes easiest to me is the feminist bullshit because I come from that point of view, I am a woman and I work in the (fashion) industry. But I’m also interested in so many other things I have to remind to take it a step further and not just go with what’s easiest. I really respect and admire where the feminist artists have taken us but I also feel this desire to take it further. It would be an injustice to keep spitting out the same work.

Jacquelyn: How do you juggle mainstream modeling with your artist’s life?

Myla: Modeling is a job. What makes it wonderful is when I get to do things that are really creative, like editorial. I shot with Jeff Bark for Dazed and Confused a few months ago and watching him work was an experience that I probably would have paid for because I learned so much. But as for the stuff that’s not so interesting or exciting, it’s just a job. As for my art, part of my obsession with being totally in control of everything that I make and how I present my work, is because in the fashion and modeling industry I have no control over anything. It’s someone else’s concept that I’m trying to make happen and I really have no control over my own image. So I feel a strong desire in the other part of my life to have full control.

Photographs by Rosalie Knox

Molly Donahue, formerly of the band Love Story, recorded her first solo album this year, entitled Metal Alvin, which is due out at the end of this month. In addition to this, Molly also has a photo blog where she records her life separated into different segments- namely, “eats,”(food) “out of doors,”(nature) “animalia,”(animal friends) “noir”(spooky landscapes) and “people and places.” Friend, fan, and fellow flower girl, Frances Tulk-Hart, sat down with Molly to discuss the inspiration behind her new project.

Frances Tulk-Hart: Hey Molls, I had so much fun shooting you for your new up and coming album, Metal Alvin. Can you tell us a bit about it starting with the rather obscure name? Where did Metal Alvin come from?

Molly Donahue: I had a blast shooting, too. Metal Alvin just sort of came out of nowhere one night, hanging out with Renn and Jason (Love Story band members) and leaving obscure comments on websites. I guess you could say I used it as a ghost name and it just sort of stuck. I like the way it looks on paper and think it rolls off the tongue nicely. People will hate it or not understand it and that’s okay. Such is life.

Frances: What was the inspiration behind the album?

Molly: I’m at a place right now where I’m really missing the woods and open land and the quiet, and i think that is pretty evident in the songs. Oh, and birds. They make quite a few appearances throughout the album…

Frances: This is your third album, but your first solo album. How was it working on your own as opposed to collabing with  your old band “the love story”?

Molly: The Love Story was pretty magical. We fed off of one another easily and songs just formed out of thin air, no composing required. That’s a pretty special thing and made it really easy to be in a band. It helps that they are two of my dearest friends. But I started out as an extremely shy musician. Still am, actually. My dad was my only audience until I began sending Renn Cassettes via snail mail. This album has been a long time coming. It’s very quiet in comparison to The Love Story, which is on purpose.

Frances: You are also a rad DJ. Which band or singers do you think you have a similar sound to? And where do you play?

Molly: Hmm… Vocal-wise I’ve been compared to everyone from Dolores O’Riordan to Siouxsie. They’re both huge compliments but I don’t hear it at all. I just hear myself. It’s hard to separate yourself from your own voice. And Metal Alvin live? We shall see. I have mind-buckling stage fright.

Frances: If you could have any pop star, dead or alive, over to your house for a dinner party, who would it be?

Molly: Oh man, Kurt Cobain. I was 14 when Nevermind came out. That’s a shape-shifting age. How about I go with the less cliché answer and say Liz Phair. Exile in Guyville is a perfect album, start to finish. Her lyrics are brilliant. and she inspired me to learn to play the guitar.

Frances: If the race for the presidency ended up being between Sarah Palin and Kim Kardashian, who would you vote for?

Molly: Ha! Wow. That’s a nightmare in the making. Politics are so depressing. If I have to choose I say Kim Kardashian. I’d rather the earth be plastered in makeup than covered in an oil slick, though I guess they are essentualy the same thing. Humans can be such monsters!

Frances: And finally, what was your New Year’s resolution? Did you figured one out?

Molly: Just to live long and prosper. Is that a Star Trek quote?

You can buy a CD, download an MP3, or buy a cassette by clicking here (yes, you read right. You can still buy a cassette).
Photos by Frances Tulk-Hart

Although the Long Island-based quintet Twin Sister just released their first full-length album, In Heaven, this fall, the band has previously released two EPs (Color Your Life in 2010 and Vampires With Dreaming Kids in 2008), and they have enough unofficial material online to create at least two additional albums. The band’s five members—singer Andrea Estella, keyboardist Dev Gupta, bassist Gabel D’Amico, guitarist-singer Eric Cardona and drummer Bryan Ujueta—first met on the Long Island band circuit, where they grew up in adjacent towns. They officially formed a band in the summer of 2008, layering Andrea’s breathy vocals, which range from a suffused whisper to kittenish purring to a ghoulish rasp, with the band’s hypnotic dreamscape sounds. Since then, they have gained worldwide renown and a cult-like following.

As Twin Sister’s European tour was winding down, Andrea sat down before her Parisian show to speak with us about the band’s homegrown approach to making music videos, old versus new songs, her obsession with zany hairstyles and how Nickelodeon led her to her first rock experience.

Sarah Moroz: You played a cover from Italo-disco maestros La Bionda when you played your Paris concert last year. I can’t think of anything more different than your sound, and yet it was one of the most fun and electrifying covers I’ve heard. How did you decide to do that song?

Andrea Estella: I don’t know how we chose that song, actually. I think I or one of us found the video on YouTube. We really liked [it] and were like, “Oh, we could do this!”

Sarah: Are there any other covers you’d be interested in performing?

Andrea: We haven’t really been working on any in a long time. We’ve been playing longer sets now than we used to; we have more music now. We might work on another cover; I don’t know what yet, though.

Sarah: So can you talk a bit more about the new stuff?

Andrea: We’re playing songs from the album In Heaven. So, it’s kind of pushing some of the older ones out of the way, but we’re still keeping a couple—even bringing back one or two that are really old, and then trying to work out the new songs. We’ll practice them when we get home so they’ll be better developed. We started the tour playing “Kimmi in a Ricefield” and then we stopped because we felt it wasn’t ready yet, even though it’s probably fine. We’re just crazy.

Sarah: On your blog, you have work that references both Kimmi and Lady Daydream in the titles. Can you tell me more about your work as a visual artist? What is the relationship between the art you make and the songs—–do the two bleed into each other?

Andrea: They bleed. Originally with Kimmi, I made a story—a short story. It changed a little bit for the lyrics, shortened the story even more. I just made up characters. And then we made it into a video, which is another version of Kimmi. But that original was a very innocent little…like an anime character.

Sarah: Can you talk a bit more about the child-like tropes? I feel like that’s a bit of a theme. In the video for “Bad Street,” there’s a piñata and chalk drawings—there’s a playfulness.

Andrea: Even me and my boyfriend—he’s the bass player [Gabel d’Amico]—we’re really childlike. We’re always talking in baby voices (laughs), being idiots. I think we’re just a bunch of dopey kids, so it just comes through. I love cartoons and toys and kids.

Sarah: What was your first concert?

Andrea: My dad surprised me. I came home from school one day when I was like…nine—eight or nine. I don’t know if you know the show Pete and Pete? It used to be on Nickelodeon II. They’re brothers and they’re both named Pete. And there was a band at the time that was kind of popular, Luscious Jackson…?

Sarah: Yeah! “Naked Eye!”

Andrea: So they were on an episode of Pete and Pete, and I started getting into the band. I came home one day, and my dad loved to surprise me so he just put me in the car and his friend came, and we saw Luscious Jackson. I was like the youngest kid there, and I still have this tank top that has Luscious Jackson written kind of graffiti-style on it. That was my first show.

Sarah: Do you ever try to channel anyone or use other front women as inspiration for being onstage?

Andrea: I don’t think about it too much. I do like Cyndi Lauper, but I’m not really like her ’cause she’s kind of insane and she does really weird dance moves, stuff like that. I also like how Björk is onstage. She doesn’t talk very much. She just kind of dances silly, like I do, but not as weird as Cyndi Lauper.

Sarah: You have had all different types of hairstyles over the years. Even now, your hair is in this really pretty kind of crown braid. Is that part of your style in general, or is that part of your “I’m performing” style?

Andrea: Hair is like a hobby in my family. When I was in middle school or even younger, my mom let me dye my hair so I had blue hair and purple. Me and my sister would get into extensions and my brother would have to have a mohawk—we’ve always been into messing with our hair. Whenever I go home, my sister is always getting me to dye my hair.

Sarah: So do you have your eye on a next style?

Andrea: I have a tub of violet hair dye that I want to use but now I’m not so sure because this blonde, with the weather changing, is breaking. But I really want to dye it light, light lilac or violet. Sometimes I have sea foam hair and all of a sudden brown, normal; blonde. And I wear wigs. I mess around with all that stuff. I like looking different every day.

Sarah: Being from New York, does being a “New York band” mean anything to you?

Andrea: I mean, we just are a New York band. We all grew up in New York; we’re all from Long Island. We grew up going to the city as kids. We just are a New York band—it’s not like we moved there for college and met up with other kids from Arizona. My family’s in New York. It must feel different for other bands. They go there looking for whether they’re going to be a painter or model. They go there and they’re like, “Yes, I made it! I’ve been here for four or five years. I’m a New Yorker!” I’ve been going to shows since I was in high school in New York.

Sarah: But does being a New York band have a kind of connotation of creative locality? Do you feel part of a New York music community?

Andrea: I guess there are different pockets of people. My friends have always been New Yorkers because we’ve been going to shows there since we were kids. But then there are other people who go there because it’s a hip place to be and it’s this whole cool, hip scheme to play a certain bar in Williamsburg or whatever. We just play wherever. We like Silent Barn. I don’t know; it’s weird when I talk about Brooklyn… There isn’t much going on on Long Island so you just go and travel to Williamsburg. It’s more popular than it ever was. Now it’s like overload, but it’s cool. Especially from touring around the US, there are a lot of special people that need a special place to go that their hometown can’t give them.

Sarah: You made all these extra mp3s available online: demos, different versions of songs that didn’t make it on the album… It’s quite generous to share all of that. Musicians are usually very careful about what songs they release to the public. Why did you decide to put all these songs in varied stages of completion out there?

Andrea: Originally, we used to show ideas to our friends, because we weren’t a band yet. We just didn’t care. Some of them would jump on that idea and think it was really cool. Then it turned into strangers listening to it. I like some of the earlier ideas, unfinished recordings. People are evolving with music because no one really buys music anymore. It’s also cool because you put it on the website and it’s free and [people] like it. It’s better than them getting it from some rip on YouTube. It’s just nice to see early versions of finished songs too.

Sarah: What about the videos? How much do you get involved in those?

Andrea: Oh, I get in there. I’m bad at letting go. I was a visual artist before being a musician, which became more dominant. [The videos] are my way of getting visual with music, which is so fun. I did the art direction for the music videos that we have so far: “All Around,” “Bad Street” and then “Kimmi in a Ricefield.” “Kimmi in a Ricefield” was a big, nice studio. We got to work with a big, nice open space and a team. That one was a step up. It came out cool. It was a 22-hour day, and I got minor hypothermia from that video. I did the art directing but then I also had to do the acting. Luckily, I had a friend to help me with the art direction while I was acting. I sat in cold water in wet clothes on my knees all day, but it was so much fun. Music videos are so old school—when you’re little, you watch music television. It’s my favorite part. It’s like, “Oh, I can’t wait ‘til the music video comes out!” It’s really important to me.

Sarah: ”All Around and Away We Go” is a really funny video—it doesn’t visually match the sound at all.

Andrea: We were supposed to have a studio space…the guy was supposed to pick up the key, but we got locked out. We ended up going to this house on Long Island that we were living in and using it as a practice space, and we had to shoot it in the house. We didn’t have enough room to pull the camera out far enough, [so] we had to cut a lot of it. Dance scenes don’t look good unless it’s the whole body. We had to do from the knee up, which doesn’t register as much. And then we did a lot of stop-animation. It was really fun.

Sarah: The contrast of the kitschy feel with the ethereal sound is quite unexpected.

Andrea: What inspired us for that video was Teen Dream, this little pop trio. They had a one-hit wonder sort of thing. Their video is really scary, because they have a stop-motion animation of a guy coming in and he has a paper body and his head is an actual photograph and it’s moving and then he falls apart and then he comes back together—and there are clouds going by behind him and weird three-dimensional shapes. Then it goes to three girls dancing with a projection on them… The song is “Let’s Get Busy”, it’s from the ’80s.

Sarah: There’s one line I really like: “Feel the power of my many destinies.” Does it feel like you have many destinies?

Andrea: Already, when I go home I want to work on sculptures. I’m really into food, too. I don’t think music is the only thing for me. I’m a Gemini; I want to do many things. So yeah, there are many destinies for me. There’s a lot of time, so I hope to do more—maybe work on other music videos with other people, like friends who are in bands. Oberhofer, they’re also a Brooklyn band; I’d like to make their music video. They don’t have a music video yet. I’d be a lot of fun. There’s no money in that either (laughs).

Sarah: Right, well, why start now?

Andrea: (Laughs) Yeah, why? I’m going to live with my parents forever!

Image by Shawn Brackbill