Icham, International-Online

How do you explain where you're from? Without anyone seeing it through pictures, could you describe in words where and how you grew up?

I'm from Gallaratese, a neighborhood on the outskirts of Milan. Historically speaking, it is a neighborhood built in the 60s to give space to people who moved from the south to escape poverty. This immigration increased the construction of these new Milanese neighborhoods. Today the Gallaratese area is the place and home of another type of immigration: in the end of the 1980s, a flow of people from non-EU states, mainly Middle Eastern, decided to try to find luck in Northern Italy. My family was one of them.

Do you know the film La Haine (1991) by Kassovitz with Vincent Cassel? Growing up in Gallarate's area was very similar to the one in the film... the suburbs of European cities are very similar to each other. Growing up in this context, without a father at home, the other part of my adolescence was quite troubled. Poverty in the neighborhood didn't always help you make the right decisions or hang out with the right people. And this often caused problems of all kinds, from seeing a lot of friends go to juvie or even losing friends to death. On the other hand it was a positive experience growing up in this place. All my friends had different origins but, some more, some less, we had the same stories. We were all there at the same time together, and this is what I carry most in my heart.

You say, "Real people live here, people that move entire cities.” What is it about where you’re from that produces such real people, and what is ‘real’ to you?

People who live here are not as facilitated as those in the center, their backgrounds push them to work hard every day to survive and make it to the end of the month, to fight racist prejudices and to preserve a better future for future generations. People here don't decide what to do in life, but they find themselves in this situation where they accept the humblest jobs, anything, to take something home at the end of the day. Often, people who live in the center want to appear perfect in the eyes of others, they don't accept humble jobs... for them the only real job is the one who brings a lot of money. My community is not like that, we don't care about appearance, we are who we are, and we don't care about where you come from or what is your job. For me this is the meaning of, "Real people that move entire cities."

Where are some of your favorite spots? What is an anecdote that gives us an example of what day-to-day looks like for you?

The metro station, the market, the park... are some of my favorite places. Those are meeting points where life in the neighborhood begins. My typical day starts from these places, where me and friends meet... and from there we decide what to do. To be honest, I don't have a typical day, it depends on who I'm gonna meet. I have a lot of friends that are working in the art field: some do graffiti street art, others music, and I usually work with them.

I totally get that, similar to my days in NY! So what do you do to give back to the community you’re from? Do you think you’ll ever live anywhere else? If so, where?

I wouldn't live anywhere else. I would like to create a meeting place for young people... something like a club that is currently lacking in the neighborhood. A place where someone can get support for family problems, growth problems; a place where there are people who can direct you towards something good.

What is your favorite thing about the community you’re immersed in? What would you recommend to people if they came to visit?

I will always be grateful for my community and the various ethnic groups in the neighborhood that integrate with each other. We've learned to embrace cultural differences since childhood. There are so many places in Gallaratese I'd recommend. For starters, the Parco delle Cave is a great meeting point of people old and young. I would definitely tell them to visit the ethnic shops at the foot of the high-rise buildings, where there are people from older generations who have stories of the place before it was fully built, and their migrations stories. Plus the food is excellent. The Gallaratese area is subject to urban redevelopment, many architects have built important works here: from the Monte Amiata residential complex by Aldo Rossi in the mid-1950s, which many students and enthusiasts come to visit, to the Bonola shopping center at the San Siro stadium.

Culture

Alain Levitt’s Time Capsule of Early Aughts NYC (2000-2005)

Amanda Lepore, Alain Levitt

Beyond the exhibition, Alain’s book of the same name, available May 1st, acts as a time capsule, a snapshot of what he and his friends were getting into back then — figuring their lives out, meeting people, making memories and now, reminiscing on what was. Today, walking through Dimes Square where his and his wife’s restaurant, Bacaro, has become a premiere meeting hub for the neighborhood's youth, Alain recognizes that while “it’s such a different world,” youth is still the same.

“Young people are young people, man. It’s different being older and not really understanding what’s going on. I don’t fully feel like I’m part of it in the same way… but I love it and it seems the same, but one thing I see is it’s more colorful, it’s animated, and everything seems kind of to an extreme that I really love.”

When Bacaro first opened in 2007, there was no Dimes Square. He likens the emergence of the neighborhood to “the beginning of Williamsburg when that kind of popped off and all of a sudden, if you went down Bedford, it was just young people everywhere and everybody was dressing outrageous.” Back then, congregating in Bedford symbolized a communal rejection of Manhattan. What Levitt witnesses in Dimes, a neighborhood that’s become a bit polarizing amongst New Yorkers, is “more or less the same thing” — though the object of its rejection seems yet to be defined.

Perhaps it’s more of an acceptance — of indulgence, of being part of something, of embracing the past, keeping alive this idealized perception of NYC.

left to right - Ryan McGinley, Dan Colen, Kenji Ukigaya, Dash Snow

When Alain moved out here in the ‘90s, his older sister Danielle gave him a camera. At that time, he didn’t consider himself a photographer. He was just a younger brother emulating his older sister, who was shooting street photography and fashion parties for the Post. Alain recalls “showing up to Max Fish and being gently made fun of for his oversized paparazzi rig.” For his second job, Alain was working as a bar-back at The Cock and The Fat Cock (now known as The Hole), giving him “a front row seat to a wild NY that was quickly being choked out by Mayor Giuliani.”

On one of his first nights, he was assigned to the back room at The Cock, where patrons would do whatever drunk people do in the dark. As a kid “brand new to New York” flashing a light on people, he realized that suddenly, his life was completely different. And it was exciting. “I made more money than I could have ever imagined. I was working minimum wage jobs coming from LA, at movie theaters and all this other shit. In NY, I was able to live off two days a week which gave me room to do everything.”

Eventually, Alain started shooting for Nylon, PAPER, V Magazine, and other publications on his days off. Though they didn’t fully feel like a part of that world, he and his friends (skaters, graffiti artists, ravers, the trifecta of '90s subcultures) disrupted the fabric of the fashion scene. Reminiscing on some of those moments, he tells us, “Our group would show up at the fashion parties and make our presence known, even though they probably didn’t think we belonged there, that maybe we hadn’t earned it yet.”

left to right - Ryan McGinley, Chloë Sevigny

Then, Alain found his community on the Lower East Side, “Alife by day, Max Fish at night,” and “after starting a bi-weekly party, with Spencer Sweeny, at The Hole, planted his seed in the downtown scene.” The world that Levitt found himself navigating in his early years in New York City wasn’t new, it was itself a continuation of the pseudo-renaissance that emerged downtown in the ‘60s and again in the '70s and again in the subsequent decades. “It’s almost like a 10-year cycle and one good thing about New York is that it lets you be young a little longer. We were coming out here thinking about the CBGB’s era.”

And when looking through Alain’s photos, while humming with an inherent sense of nostalgia, it feels as if these images could’ve been taken yesterday. Skateboarding, bands playing one-off shows in dingy music venues, gallery openings that pour out onto the block, it’s all still here, just slightly different. While the internet has made us more connected, and distractions more frequent, much of what was, still is. And for Alain, there’s an innate resilience to this culture of “youth”, a culture somehow driven by a shared dysfunction. “Living in New York is so hard, rents are high, the weather is hard. It can be amazing but you have to put up with all this other bullshit to get the best out of it. You have to be willing to suffer. The people that I knew and the people that I connected to and was around — there was always a certain amount of fucked-up-ness we all shared.”

The people that I knew and the people that I connected to and was around — there was always a certain amount of fucked-up-ness we all shared.

left to right, Dash Snow, Kunle Martins (Earsnot)

Whether seeking self-discovery in New York City, escaping a toxic family, or generally curious to explore the city’s burgeoning underbelly, people here find their own, often forming surrogate families along the way. Levitt’s book, and the photographs on display at WHAAM! exemplify that family isn’t always clean-cut and you might bond with a person you’d least expect to: on the train, at a bar, laying on the grass at Seward Park, skating at Tompkins, or having a plate of squid ink pasta at Bacaro before heading to Le Dive for some overpriced house wine.

In the most ordinary moments, the greatest ideas and connections can spring to life and this was true even then. “I imagine creativity drives a lot of this,” Levitt says. “There’s a thread that we saw and maybe even idealized New York City to be.” It’s a thread that this generation hasn’t seemed to let go of: “I feel like my book shows our moment of coming into ourselves and now the kids today are doing it themselves. In 20 years, there’ll be a record of their time that the next group of kids will be looking at. It might not be the same, but the roots are.”

From Tim Barber, a former photo editor at Vice who edited the book, to Jesse Pearson, former EIC at Vice, Su Barber (Tim’s sister), Mike Piscitelli from Fucking Awesome and skateboarder Jason Dill, everyone involved in the book “from the editors down to the publisher was there in our circle, and pretty much all in the book too.” To Alain, everyone in the book was of equal significance, whether celebrity Chloe Sevigny or Marc Razo of Max Fish, who Alain recognizes as “a loving, wonderful person who’s been in the downtown scene forever.”

“Some of those people have definitely become legendary, which is awesome,” says Levitt. “But with them, it’s like me, I felt special to be there. I wanted to be with these people and we all had all of these lofty ideas of ourselves that were shattered over time. I think it’s good to break through those delusions of grandeur and get a real sense of what the world is. But at that moment, it was pure. We all thought we were special.” And maybe we still do.

NYC 2000-2005 is on view April 18 - May 25, 2024 at WHAAM! at 15 Elizabeth St # 113, New York, NY 10013.

Culture

At Planned Parenthood's Annual Gala, Megan Thee Stallion Shines Bright

April 18, 2024

Under one of the first truly warm evenings of New York’s spring season, guests, organizational supporters, and a grab-bag of celebrities (who saw Molly Ringwald?) gathered at Cipriani’s South Street outpost to ring in another year of action and advocacy.

In a regressive landscape that has recently seen the rollback of the right to protest in three states, as well as the upholding of arcane abortion legislation in Arizona, Planned Parenthood’s call to action is eerily more apt than ever.

At an interactive exhibit during the cocktail hour, Judy Chicago’s interactive work, produced in partnership with DMINTI, invited guests to share their voices during an urgent time in the fight for free bodies. Participants in the videos will become a permanent piece of the historic artwork as it travels worldwide on tour.

By Sam Falb
Photography by Nikki Burnett

After guests settled into their seats, the night’s honorees Patricia Arquette and Megan Thee Stallion lauded the organization’s work and the manifold ways it has affected their lives for the better. Overcome with emotion, Megan accepted the Catalyst for Change Award, in recognition of her choice to advocate for bodily freedom and sexual liberation through her platform, and inimitable tracks like Plan B.

“Planned Parenthood has been a leader while abortion rights are under attack. Y’all are the true heroes,” Megan shared in her acceptance speech. “I’ve always known that I have a bigger purpose than just being a musician, and to speak up when people need our help.”

The second of its kind, the gala celebrates the work of the organization while honoring particularly devoted advocates, hosting an auction to raise funds for annual operating costs, and rounding out with an afterparty featuring host Patia of Patia’s Fantasy World, and DJs including Boston Chery and river moon.

“They’ve been there for me and a lot of my friends, especially when I first came to this country and needed healthcare,” Moon said. When the lights went down and guests trickled out onto the street, the event’s urgent appeal was in clear and energizing focus, primed for a productive year ahead.

Culture

“This is the most cracked-out shit I’ve ever been to”: Inside Harmony Korine's EDGLRD Party at Elsewhere

April 17, 2024

When do Travis Scott fanboys hang out with BDSM gear-wearing leather heads? At Harmony Korine’s Tuesday night party at Elsewhere, where EDGLRD, Korine’s multimedia design collective, screened their latest film, AGGRO DR1FT. It’s an acid-bath wet dream of luxury cars, gore, and strippers in chain mail — a Miami take on the classic Korine narrative. The film says it best: “There is magic in this brutality. I am mesmerized by it. Right in front of my eyes, we are turning into animals.” With the film’s minute-long beheading scene and a confused Travis Scott asking, “Julius Caesar wrote the Bible?” we were primed to party with that same “magic brutality.”

Between the bored strippers, fashion fanatics, and the guy in the booth with AraabMuzik conspicuously rubbing his nose, not an ass was left unshaken. Everyone wanted to be “the belle of the EDGLRD ball” — evident through the girls trying to be the next Korine muse, fancying him a sort of new-age Warhol. Amidst airborne dollar bills and monster masks, all were pleasantly surprised when Korine’s DJ set had that same animalistic feel as AGGRO DR1FT. A guest's sprained ankle serves as a testament to the fact that Korine’s DJing goes as hard as his filmmaking.

By Izzy Capulong
Photography by Liv Solomon

We got some input from partygoers — some anonymous, some less so.

Anonymous — The film was like a three-hour-long trailer for GTA 6.

Anonymous 2 — We’ll call tonight, “Harmony Korine’s goon cave.”

Aidan — I came here kind of old-new to New York, and I haven’t lived here in eight years, but I’m here again and this is the most cracked-out shit I’ve ever been to.

office — In a good way or a bad way?

Aidan — Always good.

Claire — It’s a rare evening that you find yourself the perfect amount of drunk to be in the space that you’re in, but I happened to experience that tonight, so for me, it’s pure Nirvana. But they stopped playing All Star mid-song. That was upsetting. But at one point in the evening, a rogue, brave woman got herself on stage and took her titties out.

Girl with her tits out — This is the future of cinema.

Tyler — The last time I partied at Elsewhere was 2018. Harmony Korine brought New York back.