DRØME Vol. III

To celebrate the magazine—and the new issue—come party tomorrow at the office Newsstand, and read our interview with Lee and Gorman, below.

Caroline, you went to Berlin right before you launched the magazine, do you feel like that atmosphere of safe spaces for queer people influenced the first volume or your desire to start DRØME?

Caroline Gorman: I grew up in an environment where everyone cared a lot about what other people thought and how other people presented themselves. It was the most refreshing thing ever to go somewhere where no one knew who I was and no one gave a fuck. I could just be whoever I wanted to be and reinvent myself. That mentality in Berlin is pervasive—it was very much an influence over an impetus to start DRØME.

I was in Berlin this summer and I was so overwhelmed because the mainstream party scene there is like the alt-scene here. It was so freeing—you could get lost, in the best way.

Caroline Gorman: Also, how you’re not allowed to take photos in clubs—it’s crass to be on your phone or even expect to get in somewhere because you’re like, ‘Oh I’m this person.’ They don’t care who you are.

How did you two meet?

Satchel Lee: We first met in high school.

Caroline Gorman: Do you remember when we met? Was it a McDonalds?

Satchel Lee: I think it was a Chinese restaurant. But basically, what it was, we both went to private schools in the city and there was an affinity group for queer kids called The Network and it was secret, very cool and completely student run—it felt so revolutionary. We met there, but didn’t know each other very well. Then Caroline started DRØME while she was at Brown, and I went to NYU. While I was there, I started an artist collective called Chromatic.

Caroline Gorman: I saw that Satchel posted about it, and I messaged her and invited her to a lunch party, and then things went from there.

Another thing I noticed about DRØME is that while you both run the magazine, you each have your individual crafts, as well.

Satchel Lee: Yeah, I studied film and TV at Tisch. I produce a lot of short stuff and write scripts and short stories. [I’m also] working on photography. My technical title is Creative Director, which is great, and I think that we do it and we’re good at it. I had taken photography for a while and I kind of let it go, but now I’m kind of trying to get more grounded in actual technique and fully immerse myself in learning how to see an image, compose it and pull it all together.

Caroline Gorman: I do a lot of music—I’m working on an EP right now. I DJ too, but that’s more of a hobby because I’m obsessed with techno and house. I love playing our parties, but love writing punk songs more. I’m also working on a script right now. We’re both just trying to do as much as possible. There are no rules, there are no limits. Like, I’m not just a magazine person.

Satchel Lee: Which is so nice. I’m so grateful to be a young person at this specific time in history just because there are a lot of options—you can do whatever you want.

There’s no such thing as an artist that just does one thing anymore.

Satchel Lee: Or even a person. Why would we define ourselves by one profession?

Is that what drew you to Ashton Sanders for this issue’s cover story?

Caroline Gorman: Well, the theme, 'Fantasy,’ encourages the reader to explore and meditate on alternate realities, as well as manifest our fantasies. Ashton seemed the perfect choice for the cover of Volume III because of his calm, grounded nature and ability to take an audience into another world through his art.

In regards to the theme—I interpreted it as a call to decide what kind of future we want, and how to project it and make it ours. But what does Fantasy mean to you in the context of this issue?

Satchel Lee: It’s about manifestation and realizing that it’s a fantasy, but that it doesn’t have to be. You just have to go get it—you can do whatever you want. We’re asking people what their fantasies are, then leaving the space for them to figure it out. By presenting the images and stories in the magazine, I’m hoping that we are also allowing people to discover a new fantasy.

Caroline Gorman: Starting DRØME was a fantasy. I pulled it out of my ass and now it’s a real thing—it was manifesting that fantasy. Also, I think fantasy means taking a break from the world when it gets to be a lot, and diving into a colorful, explosive thing that you can just immerse yourself in.

What are your fantasies?

Satchel Lee: I want to keep doing all of this, but I also want to be all over all kinds of different mediums and projects. But for my love life—I don’t know. People are so normal and boring.

I get it—I’m always like, ‘Love me or die.’

Satchel Lee: And what does that even mean? How have we learned through our parents and grandparents how to love each other? I’m interested in getting to a place where I can be the healthiest possible mentally, and be totally honest with myself and others.

I feel like so much of dating is just performative. Like, ‘Oh, let’s just be casual.’

Satchel Lee: Like, no, nobody wants to do that. I just want to get to a place where I can be completely authentic—I don’t want to shrink myself.

Caroline Gorman: It’s all about confidence and doing whatever you want to do without caring about what everyone else thinks. For me, that’s taken a really long time to get there. But I still need to get to a place where I don’t care.

Or maybe just care about the things that matter.

Caroline Gorman: Right. I want people to feel good about themselves. The work that I do with DRØME and beyond is about being as honest as possible with your voice and vision, and not compromising for anyone. I want to put out as much work as possible and do it in every medium and not be confined to anything. And that translates to relationships, too—being honest and not compromising in the wrong ways. I guess it’s hard to not compromise my fantasy because I’m still learning so much about myself.

Satchel Lee: Everybody is just trying to deal with their own trauma.

I feel like creating something physical, like a print magazine, is such a big part of manifesting a fantasy because it’s something real you can hold onto and actually put into the world. Why was it so important for you to do print, especially in a time where everyone is going digital?

Caroline Gorman: It started as print, and I just wasn’t interested in online because I’m so addicted to my phone and I don’t like it. So, I think print is the best way to take a break from that—to just be fully present. A lot of it is a question of being present, and flicking through Instagram is not being present. So, I wanted to create a book. We’re going to do online stuff and then turn it into a book, because you do need online to survive.

Satchel Lee: The other thing that’s cool about DRØME is that we’ve also done a lot of parties—we’re going to have a monthly party at The Public called, YOU ARE A FUCKING RIOT—and that’s so important because the magazine is about experiences. When you read something online by yourself, that’s one thing—but to have an actual magazine is another. You can smell it—it’s a whole immersive experience that we don’t get enough of. Like, who sees live music or performances anymore? You need to get out and have tangible experiences.

Caroline Gorman: It’s a time capsule too—but it’s timeless at the same time. You can read it whenever, but it’s also exactly about where were at that point in time.

I think about what it would have been like to be a queer woman 50 years ago and not be able to read something like this—I don’t know what I would have done.

Satchel Lee: We’re so lucky. Obviously, things are not perfect. But wow, there’s a lot of space for us to make our mark and support each other.

Caroline Gorman: When I was 15, I did not have anything like this, and I was really depressed over it. I didn’t see myself anywhere and I was really confused. Now, I’ll get messages from people saying, ‘This is amazing.’ Even if it touches one person, that’s beautiful.

It seems that physical space—whether it’s a book or an event—is really important to DRØME’s vision. Why is that?

Satchel Lee: One of the things we talked a lot about last year was how nightlife in NY was just not great—it actually kind of sucks now. Clubs are terrible, the underground is gone. But I love to dance—I think people need to dance and move their bodies, but nobody is doing it anymore.

Right. Everything is so image saturated now that I feel like people are so worried about what they look like, that they don’t feel like they can dance freely. But it’s not about what you look like—it’s about how you feel.

Caroline Gorman: It’s going to look beautiful if you’re into it. That’s what was so special to me about Berlin—everyone is dancing in the moment, no one is on their phones. It’s this beautiful spiritual experience. I think our best party was this pride party we did. Everyone was just going crazy and no one cared about what anyone else was doing—we were all just going nuts and enjoying ourselves. That’s what it should be always.

Satchel Lee: Everybody can sing and everybody can dance. But were conditioned to think that there’s one way to look or sound good, and if you can’t, don’t do it at all. And that’s a fucking lie. Do it and you’ll get better. If it’s your body, how can it not be beautiful? You’re just doing what your heart tells you.

Caroline Gorman: I went skateboarding for this first time in LA with a queer skateboarding group called Unity Skateboarding. I’m a perfectionist and I hate being bad at things, but I was forced to be bad at skateboarding. It was such a good exercise in just learning to throw yourself into it and not care if you fall, because falling is also a pro—that’s part of it. We all need to fall more.

What keeps you moving forward even after you do fall, though?

Caroline Gorman: Hope.

Satchel Lee: Because it won’t be shitty forever. Tomorrow will be better, and if it’s not, maybe the next day will.

What would you tell someone who wants to create for DRØME? Like, a 15-year-old girl with her camera or on her laptop.

Satchel Lee: This is something I’ve been thinking about recently. I love YouTube—people just talking to their cameras. While it’s a performance, it’s just so interesting to just see a person by themselves, but talking like they’re talking to people. I guess I would ask them what they have to say. What are you thinking about? What are you questioning? What’s on your mind literally every day? Put that into a question and then open a conversation. It’s not about finding an answer to a problem—I’m not interested in that. I want to see the process. How are you wrestling with the issue? No one wants the answer. We’re all just questioning—that’s what it means to be a human. That’s what DRØME is interested in.

DRØME Volume III is out now and available at the office Newsstand. Come celebrate the issue with us tomorrow, December 5, from 6 to 8PM.

Ashton Sanders photos by Kelia Anne, styling by Timothy Chernyaev @ The Only Agency, creative direction by Satchel Lee and Caroline Gorman, Grooming by Harper, styling assistant: Kita Lewis; Salem Mitchell photo by Lili Pepper, styling by Harper Slate, creative direction by Satchel Lee and Caroline Gorman, grooming by Moe Alvarez, set design by Francis Cardinale, photo assistant: Rina Movsisyan; all photos courtesy of DRØME

Art

A Night at MOCA

Esteemed guests such as contemporary artist Paul McCarthy, rockstar Kim Gordon, and director Ava DuVernay were in attendance, where the dinner kicked off with a captivating performance by the rhythmic beats of the Makoto Taiko Japanese drum ensemble. The museum was adorned with fantastical installations and mesmerizing projections, transporting attendees to underwater realms and lush garden landscapes. Notable among these were Schneider's enchanting Dendrite Bonsai and Tide Piepool sculptures, adding an extra layer of allure to the ambiance. While guests shared space MOCA's Board Chair, Maria Seferian, remarked on the importance of the night. "Max's presentation asks us to look beyond the maudlin and instead consider the miraculous. Returning to the artist-designed MOCA Gala is an idea about a relationship between artist and museum, not intended to privilege or position any one artist, but rather continuing a conversation rendered mute without each of them."

As guests mingled and finished their dinners, multi-Grammy nominee St. Vincent commanded the space with a beautiful performance. The atmosphere in the room bore witness to the profound significance of the arts and the invaluable contributions of MOCA within the local Los Angeles community and the global artistic community at large. "Artists serve as both mirrors of the present and portals to other futures," said Johanna Burton, The Maurice Marciano Director of MOCA. "With Max's radical transformation of our Gala and St. Vincent's incredible performance, the night allowed us all to come together around art and artists as some of the most powerful messengers of our time. It represented the heart and soul of what MOCA is about."

Artists serve as both mirrors of the present and portals to other futures.

After the dinner and performances, the festivities continued with the After-Party, where musicians Kilo Kish and Kitty Ca$h took over the DJ booth, keeping the night alive with their beats. A post-dinner snack of petite burgers and fries circulated, providing a delightful late-night treat for partygoers. Laughter filled the air as guests danced and enjoyed each other's company, marking the joyful conclusion of MOCA's annual Gala.

Explore the night below and make sure to visit MOCA the next time you’re in LA.

Art

The Devil’s Chestnut at Phil Callery

April 12, 2024

Louis Shannon and Philippe de Sablet met in New York more than a decade ago, through the underground music scene. Back then, Louis was running the now defunct but storied downtown art collective Luck You, with friends he grew up around in lower Manhattan and touring with various punk bands. Phil was attending underground concerts and eventually befriended Louis through mutual friends. The two mostly admired each other from afar, as collaboration was hindered by distance. Louis has been occupied with building his gallery Entrance from a guerilla basement space to a semi-institution on the Lower East Side. Phil, on the other hand, has been developing his own practice and operating Phil Callery, a relaxed hub for DIY shows in Lincoln Heights, Los Angeles. In February, the long overdue collaboration finally arrived, thanks to Louis being in town for Felix. The Devil Chestnut, a group show organized by Louis and Phil at Phil Callery, opened on February 27th.

By Qingyuan Deng
Imagery courtesy of Entrance and Phil Callery

The group show is many things. Its minimal installation belies a sense of brevity that can also be found in the rather esoteric press release. Simultaneously, there is an aftermath to viewing the show that lurks nearby. A militant intention that cannot be easily resolved, if you will. Z. Susskind’s plexiglass installation Gloves (2024) which spells out ‘gloves’ in all capitalized letters embodies such militancy well. Through its black reflective surface, one sees the still industrial landscape of the neighborhood. Pop meets opacity here. Another Susskind work Time, the Old Cashier (2024) more casually plays with weight and lightness, gesturing toward unseen physical acts. Phil Davis’s C-Print photograph Ciara (2003) points to the uncomfortable gap between self-fashioning and the real, a gap that exponentially explodes in Carmel Ni’s Pilgrim shoe (2024). Elsewhere, paintings by JPW3 (Patrick Walsh), Sara Gernsbacher, and Kate Mosher Hall all enjoy varying degrees of raciness, bordering a frenzy in some cases and presenting more subdued qualities in others. Still, words cannot do justice to the feel-good line-up — rising stars and superstars who are friends of both galleries fleshing out fundamentals of their practices without a care.

Ravenne Swaner
Unfolding, 2020
Oil on canvas
16 x 20 in

Phil Davis
Ciara, 2003
C-Print
7 x 9 in

Congratulations on The Devil’s Chestnut to both of you! I heard the opening was a buzzy success, tell us more about how this exhibition came to be!

Louis— I was always a fan of Phil Callery, even though I had never actually been there. Phil and I were very close friends in New York. And I’d always dreamt about going to a Phil Callery opening and there’s no better way to go to an opening than putting on a show there. In terms of timing, Entrance was heading west for Felix, which is our first operation on the west coast. This little window of opportunity opened, and we decided to sneak a show in there at the same time.

Phil— Luckily, I held on to the space, as a sublet for friends’ studio space. It was very easy to jump back in.

Louis— The mission behind Entrance, in a way, ran parallel to what I recognized was happening at Phil Callery, even though our timing was a little different. Now Entrance has grown into a gallery with a rigorous program, the need to do fairs internationally, and the want to help artists grow. The same ethos of making room for experimentation and new voices and honoring an artist’s practice is still at the foundation of both of those galleries.

I heard that, leading up to the exhibition, you two took a weeklong road trip from New York to LA. What was the road trip like?

Louis— It was incredible, both functional and fun. In the art world, it's very hard to get any time off, so we decided to take a little bit of extra time across the country. We took Route 66 and visited artists and a lot of old-school American roadside attractions along the way. Many people visit land art when they’re traveling, but we wanted to visit the world’s biggest mailbox.

We were also picking up artworks along the way for The Devil’s Chestnut. It was an adventurous treasure hunt. We visited some friends in Pittsburgh that run a project space called ROMANCE, and visited one of Phil's best friends, the artist Zach Armstrong in Dayton, Ohio. Every day, we would only decide a certain amount of driving time and what to have for dinner that night. We had burgers in Tulsa and barbecue in St. Louis. It’s good to get perspective away from the coasts and know that culture and art exists across the United States.

Jack Shannon <em>Spoon 14</em>, 2023 Oakwood 12 x 7 x 2 in — Jack Shannon *Spoon 14*, 2023 Oakwood 12 x 7 x 2 in

Kate Mosher Hall <em>Forever Long</em>, 2023 Acrylic on canvas on panel 16 x 20 in — Kate Mosher Hall *Forever Long*, 2023 Acrylic on canvas on panel 16 x 20 in

Carmel Ni <em>Pilgrim shoe</em>, 2024 Plastic, polyester and foil Dimensions variable — Carmel Ni *Pilgrim shoe*, 2024 Plastic, polyester and foil Dimensions variable

Ravenne Swaner <em>Gate</em>, 2021 Oil on canvas 24 x 30 in — Ravenne Swaner *Gate*, 2021 Oil on canvas 24 x 30 in

Jpw3 (Patrick Walsh) <em>Plot A</em>, 2024 Stainless steel wood paper ash twigs cardboard dust leaves 12 x 9 x 20 in — Jpw3 (Patrick Walsh) *Plot A*, 2024 Stainless steel wood paper ash twigs cardboard dust leaves 12 x 9 x 20 in

The Devil’s Chestnut felt like a homecoming journey that intimately revisits both galleries’ history. How does it feel to mount a very personal presentation exhibition, while two major art fairs were happening.

Phil— The installation process was intense for me, because I had to figure out how to accurately use this very intimate space, which almost became part of the exhibition. Things calmed down afterwards. Louis, while you were deep in the art fair, I was tucked away at the gallery, which functioned as a little rest stop away from the fair chaos.

Louis— The Devil’s Chestnut is a hometown group show that celebrates new voices and the history of the space. Phil Callery has always been an inviting space that mixes high and low. On the opening night, the biggest movers and shakers in the Los Angeles art scene and customers of the taco shop next door were at the gallery. The gallery originated in a very definitive moment in the Lincoln Heights, Chinatown area, where a lot of artists had their studios, and where a lot of people would visit after work. Night Gallery was founded right next door to that space, which has now grown exponentially to a real force in LA.

What are some of your observations about the neighborhood Phil Gallery is in and LA’s art scene?

Phil— Lincoln Heights is weirdly resistant to gentrification and has stayed how it was when I left. I like that a lot.

Louis— There's a lot of camaraderie between artists, which I really appreciate. Artists tend to go to each other’s shows and studios a lot more. Also, by nature of having so much more space, LA attracts artists who have a lot less fear about working at a larger scale.

You two met a decade ago in New York, while Louis was a member of the downtown collective Luck You and Phil was visiting underground concerts. Can you tell me a bit more about that post-Great-Recession moment of participating in the art scene in downtown Manhattan, where a lot of cheap real estate was readily available.

Louis— I just came out of high school when I joined Luck You and some members of our collective were still in high school. We were really focused on what people were making locally and we weren't thinking about the larger art world. We were just trying to put our friends’ projects on. We started in what is now the lower-level gallery of Entrance, back then it was really a clubhouse. We would also use abandoned spaces in the neighborhood to put on shows. I don't think we were necessarily aware of an economic downturn in the neighborhood, which was mostly food distribution and clothing shops. The collective did our best to respect the community that was immediately around us. We would work with our neighbors, invite them to shows, and respond to their noise complaints. Then, the art world seeped in, as we all sort of grew up out of the collective.

The collective wasn’t really interacting with anything outside of our local neighborhood community. Sometimes people would pluck us out and drop us into centers of the art world, because we had a story that can be told. The collective insists on art as a way of living rather than a job and I still live by that to this today.

Phil— Phil Callery started as my studio. I was just having friends over every night drinking beer and playing dice. One day, I decided to give my friends shows in that space. The gallery just came out of that need. At the same time, I was visiting New York frequently, as Night Gallery’s preparator installing their art fair booths. That's how I met Louis, it turns out I went to high school with his then roommate.

Now, many of the artists in The Devil’s Chestnut are superstars showing with powerhouse galleries in LA. Both Entrance and Phil Callery are spaces of experimentation and collaboration for emerging artists. So much labor is embedded into being an incubator, but often such labor is under-appreciated, as we live in a cultural moment of “bigger is better”. Tell us more about how you keep up with this spirit of experimentation with integrity and good faith.

Phil— For me, the goal was never to get to a place. I was just thinking about what I can do that’s interesting, fun, and stimulating. It’s hard for me to even take credit for any kind of integrity that may exist there. I’m just wired to just have a good time and keep doing interesting things.

Louis— Authenticity seeps out when you’re doing the next right thing. I love running Entrance, because I believe that the mission that I started with is scalable. A lot of the artists that I am working with had never shown before, and now have a career as artists and can make work for a living. I am always trying to make room for new voices. My favorite thing is when I meet older curators or gallerists, who have been in the industry for say 50 years and are still excited when they walk into a room and see something new. They're not jaded and have stayed curious. And I think that curiosity is scalable, in terms of elevating voices that matter. Phil and I got that curiosity from our days of touring in bands, where we witnessed so much craziness.

Phil— Entrance is like almost the sustainable progression of what Phil Callery could have been?

Louis— Right, how do you take a gallery to the next level without basically becoming like some stock exchange and selling out? I never worked at a big gallery and have retained that sensitivity to the community around me. So has Phil Callery. If you mentioned Pill Callery in LA, everyone always remembers good memories of shows they have seen or the time they spent there. You can't ask for much more than that in this world.

Sara Gernsbacher <em>Untitled</em>, 2024 Oil acrylic and graphite on canvas panel 14 1/2 x 18 1/2 in — Sara Gernsbacher *Untitled*, 2024 Oil acrylic and graphite on canvas panel 14 1/2 x 18 1/2 in

Mariko Makino <em>Blue</em>, 2023 Neon tubing, argon, garden wire, reclaimed oak 42 1/2 x 13 x 10 in — Mariko Makino *Blue*, 2023 Neon tubing, argon, garden wire, reclaimed oak 42 1/2 x 13 x 10 in

Zora Moniz <em>one is sacred one is business (gray, ghost orchid)</em>, 2023 Oil on canvas 24 x 18 in — Zora Moniz *one is sacred one is business (gray, ghost orchid)*, 2023 Oil on canvas 24 x 18 in

Z. Susskind <em>Time, the Old Cashier</em>, 2024 Copper, rope, steel 8 x 9 x 2 in — Z. Susskind *Time, the Old Cashier*, 2024 Copper, rope, steel 8 x 9 x 2 in

Ravenne Swaner <em>Spires</em>, 2024 Beeswax, paraffin and string Variable dimensions — Ravenne Swaner *Spires*, 2024 Beeswax, paraffin and string Variable dimensions

Art

'Door to Door' Offers a Slice of Life in Iran

April 05, 2024

In a new exhibition curated by yalla imshi, featuring works by architect and sculptor Christopher Al-Jumah, Mohammad Rezaei's photographs, "captured during reflective walks through Iranian streets," offer a glimpse into daily life distinct to that found on our own crowded streets. When Al-Jumah saw Rezaei's "Slice of Life" photography of Iran's urban and rural life, he was immediately taken by the symbols and iconography evident across doorways and houses, finding it "beautiful to see how the people had ornamented their lives." In response, Al-Jumah began crafting crude furniture piece from Persian silkwood (sourced from Bay Ridge and found on Craigslist), engraving symbols found in Rezaei's photographs onto the objects, thus bringing this exhibition to life.

Showing at 28 Elizabeth Street Floor 3, New York until April 16th, Door to Door "is a nod to the mundane that remains still in the dust painted, repainted, and repurposed with time."

By Sara Eldewak
Photographs by Mohammad Razaei, courtesy of the artist

The exhibition is accompanied by a book of Rezaei’s photography, and a series of essays and writings that respond to the photographs by writers Mnatalla Eldaas, Akram Shah, Abhi Janamanchi, Zari G, Saam Niami, and Safa Ghasemi.

Spaces breathe like silent narrators of their time. Where the everyday matter reaches a position of unity and glory to sit at the point of concentration and start a secret conversation.