BOY.BROTHER.FRIEND

Enter BOY.BROTHER.FRIEND.—a fresh UK-based publication and online platform creating spaces for fashion luminaries and their related theological texts. BOY.BROTHER.FRIEND. is a magazine with an imperative mission, and office caught up with founders KK Obi and Emmanuel Balogun during the launch of their first issue to learn more.

What was the driving force behind founding BOY.BROTHER.FRIEND?

KK OBI—I did a zine in 2017 called Boy.Brother.Friend. At the time I was a bit fed up with shooting models—I was working for a small, independent men’s publication. And I just had this need to be fulfilled; I thought, “There are all these really interesting people around me, wouldn’t it be great to get them all together and shoot them in a really beautiful way.” That’s really how it all began. We did a partnership with LN-CC and it all kicked off. The reception was really good. It all makes you feel confident like, “Wow I should actually, maybe try and do this.” I’ve always wanted to do my own thing —to do something that felt representative of where I came from and where I am.

BOY.BROTHER.FRIEND. has a gorgeous online presence but is primarily a print publication. What made you choose the medium of print?

Emmanuel Balogun—KK and I, we’ve been friends for a number of years now—over ten years, even though we’ve had diffrent walks of life. KK works in fashion, I’m working in art and international development, so we see the diffrent industries in different ways. People of African descent or of the diaspora are comminicated and spoken about in terms of the need to develop. When you’re talking about Africa there’s always this constant conversation about ‘Where it needs to be,' not where it is. And in fashion there’s not much conversation about Africa until recently. So we thought it was important for us to create something that was physical, that would be logged in history in a library, something that younger generations could find.

Something that’s available even when your WiFi is out.

EB—Exactly! When you look at all these people who are trying to see and define themselves, wheather it’s in terms of African or Black, there’s always help when looking back at publications that once existed and are no more. So we had to create something that would exist and persist. That’s why it’s in print.

KK—We also wanted to offer something strong digitally, which is why we’re doing the website, and there will be more developments added to that side as well.

EB—Going back to the first question, I’d say it’s also really about adding more to the story or rewriting people into history and re-telling history. You get to tell your history for your people. We shot our close friends, who are of our generation, and we shot people who are older than us as a way to bridge multigenerational conversations. It’s really about creating history and rewriting history, and making sure that we remain in history.

KK—Because as you know history has not always been on our side.

At all!

KK—It hasn’t always served us, at all. So that’s definitely why we wanted to have—or start having, those conversations.

Issue 1’s theme is Discipline. What made you want to start there?

EB—It’s about looking at the spaces that we’re in, and the codes you might have to adhere to in order to get your work circulated. Adhering to structures and messages that people will willingly market. So it’s like, ‘How do we control ourselves?’ Whether that’s through religion or coming from a culture where you have to adhere to tradition and be a certain way. So it really is about all these different codes in our life that condition ourselves and also the means of control that are used to keep us in place.

KK—We’re dissecting that. Really kind of probing that. We wanted to have these really strong portraits of people who, through their discipline, are using their work to change the conversation. Around the time we started there was a lot of conversation around the environment and ‘diversity.' But what did all of that really mean for our communities? That’s really where we started with this theme.

I’m really liking that two-prong approach—investigating how the world is impacting people and seeing how people are changing themselves so that they can be presentable in the world. There aren’t a lot of outlets to explore thoughts like that which are also in the form of being beautiful and engaging.

KK—Exactly. There are lots of platforms out there but they’re all afraid to have these serious conversations about the things that are affecting certain communities. We wanted a space where we could actually be critical, and be critical of ourselves.

EB—That’s why you see in the mission statement it’s really about fashion, contemporary art, and theory. That element, theory, is really important because people are fascinated by images and conversations but I guess do people really read?

Some of us do.

EB—Yeah some people do! That’s good to know. People are always fascinated by concepts and research but a lot of times research is just image collecting. It was really key to involve people who had been doing the work before we got involved. There’s Cornel West—he’s known more in America than in the UK. There’s bell hooks. We love bell hooks.

The interspersal of her quotes throughout the issue is a really strong design choice and one of my favorite aspects.

EB—Read their book Breaking Bread. That’s the one.

Are there other thought leaders you’re looking to highlight in the future? The attention to Black mental health advocacy was super important to me in Issue 1.

EB—You’ll have to buy issue 2 to find out...

KK—These sub-themes are so layered. We may be revisiting things as time goes on. There’s gonna be one-off’s. The concept of diaspora people is so multifaceted. Many of these themes may come back again and again.

EB—Considering the main focus is diaspora, it’s key for us to really dissect what that means. There’s a lot of people going back to the continent who might not have been born there but have African heritage. We want to really change people’s perceptions of who constitutes ‘the diaspora’ because it will often be people who define that in ways you might not imagine.

Order Issue 1 of BOY.BROTHER.FRIEND. here.

Culture

The Club Is Coming to the Stage

We enter and make our way to what is approximately front left of the DJ booth, where we’re accustomed to dancing at clubs in New York. “So is this a techno club or a dance performance?” yells an uncertain participant in my boyfriend’s ear. He laughs, bouncing along to Ben UFO, and yells back, “It’s both!” The club has long been a hot topic in European contemporary dance but it is only now making its way into New York performance venues, largely through transatlantic tours. R.O.S.E. follows recent examples like Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1 (May 2024), (LA)HORDE’s Room with a View at NYU Skirball (October 2023), and Gisèle Vienne’s Crowd at BAM (October 2022).

Do these performances compromise the club’s spirit — a space idealized for its anonymity, dark lighting, and thundering music? The notion of the club as a utopian escape is admittedly just that — an ideal — because of how its intense conditions can create barriers to entry. Still, the club remains sacred for many, a place to forge connections and embrace an alternative state of being. Looking at how performances transfer this spirit to new settings reveals what aspects of the club are essential and those that aren’t.

Sharon Eyal, R.O.S.E. 2024. Photography by Stephanie Berger, courtesy of Park Avenue Armory.

Eyal’s dancers make their entrance. The lighting shifts from roving blue to yellow spotlights as Ben UFO’s tracks transition to more melodic beats. Clad in deconstructed lace Dior lingerie with dark red tears painted on their faces, the dancers move cautiously in a tightly maintained pack, slicing paths through the horde with hoof-like steps and jerky leg extensions. After around ten minutes of this controlled choreography, the dancers vanish as the lighting shifts back to blue and Ben UFO picks up his dubby beats. The club, as we knew it, resumes. This cycle of tightly executed movements and free-flowing club-goers repeats several times, each time emboldening the dancers to plunge further into the crowd.

Clubbing in a building once built for the U.S. Army National Guard on Manhattan’s Upper East Side turns out to be surprisingly successful — at least for the audience. What starts as an awkward, scattered group searching for their non existent seats gradually gels into an engaged, bouncing crowd that erupts in cheers each time the dancers enter and exit. Performance patrons who might never step foot in a club find themselves swept up in its potential for communion, moving in unison with fellow ticket holders. But it isn’t until the very end of R.O.S.E. that the dancers finally break free from Eyal’s choreography and join the fired-up audience in a brief moment of improvisatory movement with the music. By keeping her dancers at arm’s length, Eyal seems more interested in the club as a backdrop for her signature movement style than wholly as a space with meaningful stories to be told.

Michele Rizzo, HIGHER xtn. 2024. Photography by Cameron Kelly courtesy of MoMA PS1.

Back in May, I attended Wire Festival, a multiday electronic music event at Knockdown Center that had no shortage of organically united dancefloors. It attracted a crowd of seasoned ravers who were eager to celebrate the start of spring as they danced alongside DJs who played well into the daylight. I left Wire in an afternoon daze to see Michele Rizzo’s HIGHER xtn. at MoMA PS1. My sleepless euphoria only deepened as the performance unfolded, starting with a lone dancer who looked plucked out of the festival.

The dancer, dressed in sneakers, baggy jeans, and a tight tank top, shuffled slowly into the gallery, perfectly in sync with the looping bars of an understated electronic melody. Soon, other dancers, clad in the same staple rave uniform, joined him — each having traveled from Europe for the U.S. museum debut of HIGHER xtn., which premiered at the Stedelijk in Amsterdam in 2018 and quickly became a fixture at kunsthalles and festivals across the continent. As the score’s tempo climbed, the choreography locked into a 16-count sequence, which the dancers executed with precise synchrony. They remained intensely focused, never making eye contact with each other, as they sought release in the endless repetition of synthesized beats. Once the dancers reached their limit, they stopped the sequence and exited the gallery, one by one.

HIGHER xtn. used the focused daylight of the gallery to highlight the meditative release found in the repetitive movements that dominate dark dancefloors. The performance’s restraint brought more consistency and intentionality than Eyal’s all-encompassing club construction in R.O.S.E. Yet both performances offer enticing entry points into club culture for those who may not frequent raves. Rizzo’s ecstatic, hypnotic repetitions reveal how the club can mirror other meditative practices, while Eyal’s interpolation of performance and clubbing helped hesitant audience members blossom by the end. Still, both works overlook one of the most underappreciated aspects of clubbing — its potential for individual expression. HIGHER xtn.’s pristine uniformity especially risks promoting the outdated techno trope that there’s a “right” way to dance to electronic music.

Maybe this shortcoming is, in fact, a benefit. For habitual ravers jaded by one too many sunrise sets, it’s a reminder to return to the club with more intention. If you pause and peer through the darkness, you’ll see hundreds of people moving to the same beat, each with their own subtle variations. This collective choreography is a ready-made spectacle that doesn’t need validation in a theater or museum. And when the music shifts slightly, you can watch the ripple effect sweep through the crowd while feeling the new beat in your body. Maybe this small bit of magic is best left on the dance floor.

Culture

Real Slick, Jack: Psyche Organic Arrives in New York

Shop Psyche Organic at Happier Grocery and Dimes. Coming soon to @citarellagourmetmarket @unionmarket @gourmetgarage @deciccos @fairwaymarket plus many more.

Culture

Porsche SCOPES Brings Art, Music, and Design to Toronto

The festival was a full immersion into Toronto’s dynamic creative energy. Day one set the tone with DJ collective Living Room, followed by an experimental performance by Claire Rousay that captivated the crowd. Jewelry designer Steff Eleoff unveiled her Porsche Taycan 4S art car installation—a bold fusion of automotive and wearable art inspired by her Sedona ring—while OVO Sound’s Naomi Sharon and DVSN wrapped up the night with powerful, genre-defying performances.

We witnessed SCOPES Toronto bridging underground and mainstream with day two’s lineup. DJ Korea Town Acid’s set paved the way for Angelphroot and Dameer’s debut of BASSMATI, a track blending South Asian influences with bass-driven sounds. Chippy Nonstop’s return to Toronto and Richie Hawtin’s extended set were milestones of the evening, proving that the city’s underground scene has a global resonance.

The final day featured standout performances from local pianist Harrison, Indigenous artist Tia Wood, and hip-hop visionary Sean Leon, who elevated his set with a live choir. Moonshine Collective’s film and musical performance explored themes of African utopia, showcasing art’s power to bridge culture and technology. Rising Toronto star SadBoi, who paused her tour to perform at SCOPES, further underscored the festival’s commitment to nurturing local talent.

Throughout the weekend, we experienced installations from artists like Mitsu Mitsu and culinary creations from Bar Mordecai, capturing the multifaceted creativity Porsche SCOPES brought to Toronto. This milestone 10th edition, open to all, allowed Toronto’s vibrant arts scene to thrive, underscoring SCOPES’ mission to celebrate local talent while connecting it to a global audience.

office had the chance to connect with rising star SadBoi ahead of the event. In our conversation, she shared insights into her creative journey and reflected on what performing and growing up in Toronto means to her and her work.

How are you, and where are you at right now? You told me you were traveling.

Um, I’m good, I’m feeling really good right now. I’m traveling back to Salt Lake City. I had a show yesterday in Seattle. I’m on tour right now with Coco and Claire.

How is touring life treating you? Do you like it?

I love being on the road. To be honest, I feel like I don’t know—like I’ve had good experiences and bad ones—but this time it’s really fun, especially with the people I’m surrounded by. It’s also the longest tour I’ve been on; I have about four more weeks to go. I’m trying not to think about how many days I have left.

Do you feel homesick?

Yes, because when I start thinking about how many days are left, I start to miss my dogs. I’ve just been trying to stay in the moment—I don’t even know what day of the week it is, to be honest with you.

Oh, sweet! What are your dogs’ names?

Jillian and Winston. I know, they’re crazy names.

You’ll be performing at SCOPES in Toronto, which is where you grew up. Do you feel like the crowd is different when you perform in Toronto compared to other cities?

Yes, I mean, Toronto just feels different because it’s home. Every time I come back to perform, something in my career has changed. The last time I performed in Toronto, people just wanted to have a good time, and I’m excited to perform back home again to see everyone’s reactions. I know it’s going to be different from the last time. It’s exciting to see your own growth. Toronto is a tough crowd, though. If we’re with you, we’re really with you.

So, they’re super picky? You have to gain their respect, or what is it?

I think Toronto people are in their own world, but when something really connects with them, they’ll lose themselves in the moment. But it takes something to bring them out of that. Toronto crowds are tough because even if they like you, they won’t show it outright until they’re really vibing with you.

It’s like a vibe check, right?

Exactly. They’ll enjoy your performance, but it’s hard to explain. When people visit Toronto, they often say, “Oh, you guys are so nice,” and I’m like, “I don’t think we’re that nice, we’re just polite.” Like, you can walk down the street, and no one will say anything, but it’s just our mannerisms.

You mentioned Toronto can have a moody energy, especially at night, and that the underground night scene there really inspires you. Can you talk more about what makes Toronto's nightlife so influential for you?

Absolutely, Toronto has this unique energy that comes alive at night. Similar to New York, there are the popular clubs everyone knows, but you need to find your niche—the people who know where the real parties are. I remember going to raves in high school yards, sneaking in because I wasn’t old enough. Events like Baby, Jerk!, and Yes Yes Y’all were pivotal, exposing me to DJs blending dancehall with EDM—something I hadn’t seen before. Toronto nightlife is moody and intense, but when everyone’s out, it’s like the whole city is alive.