How Are You Doing in 2021? Pt. 1

The series, which spotlights 13 artists, has been divided into two parts.

Check the first one out below.

Colin LoCascio, Fashion Designer

Tell us a little about yourself and what you do?

I grew up in Queens, NY and a lot of my taste/aesthetic was born there as well. I studied at RISD and upon graduation, I worked for several designers/brands, and in 2020 launched my namesake label.

How would you describe your collection?

The collection is very print/color/texture heavy. I like to define it as outer-borough chic- it's slightly disoriented/misguided glamor. She's the lady in red when everyone else is wearing tan- yes that is a Fran Drescher reference!

Did you stay in NYC during the lockdown?

I stayed in NYC for first few months, and then I moved to Rhode Island, where I currently am.

What would you say was the hardest struggle for you during this pandemic?

So much of my inspiration comes from my friends, or women I see on the street, so obviously during lockdown I wasn't finding inspiration the same way. I think the pandemic has been and will continue to be, incredibly hard. I think for me, I've learned as humans, we have innate qualities to preserve and overcome and that has been inspiring.

What can we expect from you next for the next upcoming season and any plans of doing a show?

I'm working on it now, it's going to be building out a lot of the narrative I built in my AW21 collection. I'm super interested right now in working in the medium of video, I think I'm able to tell the story of the season more than a presentation/runway show, and I think I will continue to do so until it's fully safe to stage a runway show.

LustSickPuppy, Musician/Visual Artist

Tell us a little about yourself and what you do?

My name is Tommy, I’m from Brooklyn, and I’m known in these streets as LustSickPuppy. I am a musician on top of other things but that’s the main thing atm. I'm a visual artist and have love for sfx makeup and I do my best to blend that into my music so that I’m creating a whole world with weird little creatures who like to dance until they die.

How has covid affected the way you work? Are you staying creative and how?

I spend most of my time in the dark, cramped up at my computer working on music for hours. That’s kind of how it's always been but before the panny hit, everything I was making was getting spit out with the intention to perform. This, in my opinion, resulted in a lot of half-assed things that could have used more time and love. When we were first put in quarantine there was a double-edged sword of feeling like I had to stay productive but also had a massive amount of free time to let things develop as they may. I actually really enjoy that I don’t have to perform right now because I’ve spent all of last year up until now working on my next project that probably wouldn’t have had so much care and effort put into it otherwise.

Will there be a follow up to your EP this year?

Absolutely. I’m really proud of everything I’ve been working on. It’s the most honest thing I’ve made so far. This project has been my healing for me to deal with all of the bullshit and fuckery of 2020, the loneliness, the heartbreak, the intrusive thoughts, the self love and reaffirmation. It’s me and everything I’ve felt for the past year. It’s not really for anyone else but if people like it, cool.

Did you ever host any of those themed zoom parties?

I did when the pandemonium first started, but that started to feel like a chore, or an episode of Dora. It does not breed the same level of connection and interaction as a live show does where I can see and touch people, physically, emotionally. Live shows are a “performance” but these internet shows are performative, there’s a difference. I’m more honest when I’m on a stage reliving the feelings of whatever I’ve written verses playing it from my bedroom, to then close my computer and be trapped with the same dread that sludges with the days as this pandora lingers. However, I will do it for money, I GUESS.

What would you say was the hardest struggle for you during this pandemic?

Not dying and I mean that in every definition. Not letting the fear and anxiety of a deadly virus consume my every thought and action. Not letting the absolute heartbreak of the death of black people turn me completely nihilistic. Not going insane from being stuck in my room all day every day, without seeing my friends, or hug my mom. Not letting the things I cannot control kill my drive, my energy, my love for myself and others.
I will say tho, I got the opportunity to really sit with myself and with my thoughts and re-analyze a lot of my life and what’s important to me. Relationships I was fucking up, how hard I am on myself, how I could improve my well-being. I’ve definitely grown a lot over the past year that I feel like “normal” life would've distracted me from. I healed myself over and over during the past year and I’m kinda grateful for that.

Where would be your dream gig post Covid?

Probably in Japan so I can experience other cultures that aren’t American. I haven’t really thought about it because I’ve just been focusing on making it to tomorrow. Dreaming of a covid-free life will create a false sense of hope in my brain that will lead me to delusion. This is the reality at the moment and I'm taking it one day at a time. That’s what held me down from 2020 to now.

Claud, Musician

Did you stay in NYC during the lockdown? 

For the first couple months I was in Illinois at my dads house, then drove back to New York mid summer.

How would you describe your music? 

Pop songs to enjoy with a late night snack.

What can we expect to see from you next? 

A live show... soon.

What would you say was the hardest struggle for you during this pandemic? 

Learning how to be alone.  

 Where would be your dream gig after covid and why? 

Lincoln Hall in Chicago because I grew up going there.

Primo, Photographer

Tell us a little about yourself and what you do?

My name is Primo Bolo III and I’m a fashion photographer. I’m 29 years old and I’ve been living in NYC since 2010 but I’m originally from Lānaʻi, Hawai’i.

Would you say covid has deeply impacted you even more than others because you are AAPI?

More recently, we’ve been seeing the effects of 45’s racist rhetoric escalating to violent attacks on the AAPI community across the country. Lānaʻi is almost entirely AAPI and this kind of racism that we’re seeing today didn’t feel present growing up on my island like it is for a lot of AAPI individuals in other states. After this year, I’m now realizing how white supremacy has always existed systemically in Hawai’i since the moment of colonization and how it’s really affected the perception and values of all the POC locals, including myself for a long time. Now that my awareness of racial and social injustice has heightened, it’s been incredibly difficult to process all of this information and ignore it because it really is at the root of the social and financial disparities in Hawai’i.

A lot of locals back home are really living in a world of scarcity and they’re spending every single day just trying to survive. It’s the biggest misconception people in the states have of Hawai'i residents. On set, people always ask me “Why did you leave Hawai'i? It’s so nice there!” and although it is, I always have to stress the reality of what it’s like for us locals. The truth is, there isn’t a lot of money or opportunity in Hawai’i. The hospitality industry that drives our economy is centered on putting their guests first before residents. As a result, investmenting in much needed resources for our local community just doesn’t happen in the way we need it too and this leaves a lot of the residents disengaged when progress doesn’t happen. This really echoes all of the issues that have come to light since covid. I’ve been really doing my best to spread awareness and engage in meaningful conversations with other AAPI locals so that we can figure out the best way for our community back home to get engaged and activated so we can move forward towards empowerment and inact meaningful change like we have in the past.

75 years ago during “The Great Hawai’i Sugar Strike of 1946” it was the first time the multi-ethnic workforce organized and challenged the sugar plantations that controlled Hawai'i. They addressed the social and political problems at the time by crossing cultural lines and coming together to unionize against an industry that enacted racial division amongst its workers to maintain power. To me, this is the same energy we need now: Unity and Activism.

How did this sourdough bread making come about? I know it was a trending hobby in the beginning of the lockdown, but you seem to be one of the very few that's still sticking to it!?

Sourdough has always been something that piqued my interest but I was very intimidated by it at first and just didn’t know where to start. A month before the lockdown, I met another baker on set who was kind enough to share some starter with me. She walked me through each step of the dough making process and shared her recipe. On my first attempt, we made our dough simultaneously and we sent each other photos and videos during each step so that I could visually see how to handle the dough as it changed over time. Her patience really enabled me to get comfortable with the process and doing it together really eliminated all of the doubt. I’m so grateful and from that point on it became an obsession.

Fast forward a year and I’ve really found so much of my joy in sourdough. There’s a lot of beauty in it and the timing aspect really forces me to take things slow which was such a contrast to my life before lockdown--especially in our industry. It’s been very therapeutic for me and for a lot of people watching my bread stories on instagram. This past January, I finally decided to create an instagram account dedicated to my bread and it has been such a fun avenue for creation. It really highlights my scoring abilities and bread designs which are inspired by my experiences growing up in Hawai'i. Home has been such a bountiful and authentic source of inspiration for me and it’s really allowed me to reconnect with my roots though my bread. It’s elevated the beauty and process of my sourdough for me and it feels like it’s become a love letter to Lānaʻi. I’m really proud of it and I really love sharing it with everyone.

What would you say was the hardest struggle for you during this pandemic?

I think my mental headspace has really been challenged throughout the pandemic. Previously, my disposition was very much coming from a glass half full perspective but since last summer I’ve been put in a position where I was forced to confront a lot of feelings and emotions I never noticed before. Like I mentioned before, the pandemic has brought about a new level of awareness and consciousness surrounding systemic racism, social injustice and inequality, and even privilege that I can’t unsee. I spent a lot of time looking inward and I’ve dedicated a lot of energy into understanding my emotions more.

I’m also noticing and protecting my joy and that has really helped me recenter during all of this uncertainty and craziness.

How has working on-set in the fashion industry changed for you?

The racial disparities and the need for accountability within our industry are very much at the forefront of everyone's mind. In the past, I always felt like we never had the space to explore these topics in conversation on such a larger scale but now it’s almost impossible to not discuss what’s going on in an honest way. I’ve had the opportunity to really engage in these conversations with models, stylists and other colleagues on set more recently. I think these conversations lend to unity, growth, and connection. It’s so easy to feel like a machine doing what we do because there's such a push for the bottom line. But I think taking the time to speak on these issues and share how our own experiences really introduces a bit of humanity into our space. For me, it acts as a moral compass for how we choose to treat others while we navigate our careers and boundaries going forward.

Post Covid, where would be your dream place to travel to?

Although it would be amazing to travel anywhere in the world, I have been dreaming a lot about being back in Hawai’i. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been home and I really want to take a moment to reconnect with the mountains, the ocean and all the locals on a personal level again. During the lockdown, all the locals got to experience home in such a special way. For the first time, there were no tourists and everyone felt like the environment had a moment to reset. I really wish I had the opportunity to experience home in that way.

DJ FREEDEM, DJ

Tell us a little about yourself and what you do?

I'm a creative and effective individual. Djing is my specialty, but as a creative, I can do a lot of what is asked of me.

Besides producing music, we see you have a huge passion for plants..how did that come about?

It came from a place of wanting to learn and tackle something new. It also came from a place of hurt; I was in the process of healing from a dark moment, but aren't we always in the process of healing from something?

Would you say you have changed a lot as a person since covid hit?

I have had a lot of time to sit, think, meditate, heal, relax, lower my blood pressure and get better in tune with my goals, dreams and hopes and skills. So yes, I would say that I've changed a lot.

What would you say was the hardest struggle for you during this pandemic?

The hardest struggle for me during this pandemic was trying not to feel like I had to keep up with my peers who were still making a lot of big moves and having major moments. I learned that it's okay to go at your own pace and take the scenic route, which I came to realize I was already doing.

 Whats next on the music agenda?

There was a time where I was putting out mixtapes like crazy, back to back to back like most Djs do when they're first getting started. I want to get back into the habit and rhythm of putting out more mixtapes regularly like (my) old days.
 

Post Covid...What’s a dream place you have always wanted to visit and why?

I would really like to go to London. I've done a few projects and collaborations with brands and entities in London. So it make sense for me to go out there to network and expand further.

Mecca Allah, Model/Movement Artist

Tell us a little about yourself and what you do?

I am an AfroLatino Model, Movement Artist and Creative based in Brooklyn New York.

Are you from NY?

No but it feels like home. I’ve been here for 6 years and would always come in the summers as a kid for dance programs. I’m from Philadelphia so very close.

A lot of people left the city last year, what made you stay?

I initially went to Philly when Covid first started for a couple months but then I came back. I love the City, it keeps me going and It’s the only place I see myself within the U.S.

What was something new that you learned about yourself during this Covid period?

I learned that I definitely was overworking myself prior. I have reintroduced taking time for self, but also expressing gratitude. When Covid first started it was right around when Ramadan started which for those that don’t know Ramdan is a very sacred month- practicing compassion, patience, self improvement, and ofcourse getting closer to a higher power so it all aligned and slowed me down in a good way.

What would you say was the hardest struggle for you during this pandemic?

The hardest struggle for sure is being away from family. Half of my family is in Philly and the other half Senegal and I miss them all!  

How would you describe your dancing/movements?

Playful, curious, experimental and just open to what comes to my body and mind in the moment. 

Would you say your dance moves have changed since Covid happened?

Yes, I’ve definitely explored my body more outside of just structured movements.   

Post-Covid where would you go on a dream holiday destination?

Probably Thailand- They have some beautiful beaches and bodies of water that I would love to swim in and I’d also love to visit the Elephant Sanctuary.

Clothing for subjects provided by: WAH WAH, Nanushka, Social Work, Reike Nen, Chloe, Collina Strada, Wandler, NOTTE Jewelry, YANYAN, Victor Li, Bottega Veneta, Bode, Dries Van Noten, JW PEI

Culture

Mowalola x Miss Sixty Launch with H. Lorenzo

I swing my legs over the ropes that guard the VIP entrance. Always over (I’m 5’10), never under. I’m late to the H. Lorenzo x Mowalola event, and the line is wrapped around the block. I don’t want to be an asshole, but I hate waiting in lines; it just ruins everything.

“Hey, my friend is DJing right now. My name should be down,” I say.

The youngish security guard looks me up and down. I have made an adventurous choice for this type of crowd. Neon pink hoodie, bright orange vest, my Raimundo jeans, and Jeremy Scott animal print sneakers. I let him take me in and look over his shoulder. Hmmm… I will be swathed in darkness when he lets me in. Dark night, dark clothes, dark makeup, furs, hoods, leather accessories, and sunglasses. I don’t recognize anyone, but it’s hard to tell who anyone is because I can’t see after 8 pm without my glasses. Night blindness. I can still catch a vibe though.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Mr. Guard says, interrupting my squinting.

“Who?,” I ask.

“The woman in charge of the list.”

That’s a drag. I want to dance. Lately, I am going out in the name of music.

“So…can I go in?” I ask.

“Just wait for her to get back.”

That sounded fine. I wait. The outdoor smoking area is packed. I imagine the inside to be a mirror of this, hopefully with people dancing instead of blowing smoke in each other’s eyes.

“You got instagram?” The guard asks me after about ten minutes of flirting.

“Can I go in?” I said.

He laughs. He lets me in the event without a wristband.

Inside, I understand why the other guard was gone for so long. I made a mental note to not drink too much liquid, the bathroom line is almost as long as the line outside. The party is popping, far from a flop.

I push through the crowd solo, following the speakers to the DJ booth. The immersive visuals provided me with enough light to make out Mowalola in a gold bikini and her low rise denim. My pulse races like the horse printed on the front of her coochie. That’s the point of the collection, obviously.

My hips swing around before I head towards the open bar. I smile to myself, noting that it’s a mezcal forward menu. I see a drink that disgusts me so I order it without hesitation. It’s a mezcal coffee concoction. My heart ’s ran through already, why not go all in? I head back to dance when I hear Shigecki’s set start. I’m jumping around, sweating, and when I pause for a beat I let out a yelp. There are strippers working poles opposite and behind the DJ booth. Good. Events should be sexy.

I end the night smoking my friend’s Korean strawberry cigarettes taking in the air of cool- when a man comes up to me wild-eyed exclaiming that we look just like one another. I look at him- no, not at all. I turn slowly, remembering what I should be doing: listening to DJ G2G’s set. Back inside, she is playing reggaeton type beats with lasers beaming out of her headphones (I want these). A rave in it of herself.

Too bad all the events end at 2 am in LA.

Culture

Vans Pipe Masters 2024

On the first night, Steve Van Doren and the Vans team hosted the heat draw for the competitors at a casual backyard barbecue. The son of Vans’ co-founder Paul Van Doren, Steve has worked in the family business for decades, and is now known as the Ambassador of Fun. Wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a cowboy hat made out of old shoes, he was definitely dressed for the part. The surfers, along with family and friends gathered in a relaxed setting as 40 men’s and 20 women’s names were drawn from a shoebox. The competition would run in 3 rounds, the top 4 men and 4 women with the highest scores moving onto the finals. When asked about their strategies, most gave answers along the lines of “get waves.” Refreshingly simple.

After waiting a few days for favorable conditions, the first day of competition kicked off with Women’s Round 1. It was finally time to see Pipeline in action. Banzai Pipeline is known as one of the most dangerous places to surf due to the powerful waves breaking over shallow and sharp reefs. With the potential to crash into the rocky edges or have leashes caught in caves, it takes a ton of skill–-and even more courage–to surf here. No stranger to these risks, the first heat included favorites Caity Simmers and “Queen of Pipeline” Moana Jones Wong, who showed off exactly why they’d been successful here in the past. Midway through the heats, Mother Nature decided to throw in another element as a light drizzle turned into a proper downpour. Rain or shine, the athletes went out unfazed, focused on getting their first points on the board.

After another short day’s break, the competition continued with the women’s second round and the men’s first. The beach was filled with spectators, locals and tourists alike, as the competition was free for all to attend. While fans rooted equally for the women and men, the most popular were the local Hawaiian athletes, which made up about half the competition. The women started off the day again, hyping up the crowd with incredible rides. One ride by Bettylou Sakura Johnson earned the first Bag of Cash of the day– a cash prize (of undisclosed amount) awarded in a brown paper bag to any surfer that pulls off a wow moment, excites the crowd, and pulls off something spectacular regardless of what the conditions might look like.

Winds picked up as the men’s competition began and two strategies quickly emerged: an aggressive approach, targeting any decent waves to build small scores; and a patient approach, waiting for the perfect wave to chase a high single score. Even the waves that were unrideable were a spectacle in itself. The sheer size, illustrated by the length of surfboards riding up and over, and the following crash of white water spray was hypnotizing. Then imagining having to experience it out on the water, duck diving under or being lifted over, brought a renewed respect for the surfers.

After watching these early rounds, it was time for office to head back to the cold. With the competition officially spanning from December 8-20, it seemed the forecast was gearing up for some massive waves— and it didn’t disappoint. Following from afar through Vans’ Instagram and live updates, we saw the full extent of what it means to surf at Pipeline. After a series of electrifying and daring surfs, the 2024 winners were crowned: Erin Brooks and Nathan Florence.

The thrill of watching top athletes compete at the highest level of their sport, even remotely, never fails to inspire. Few sports surrender so completely to the forces of nature as surfing does. And at its core, surfing is all about having a deep respect for the ocean—its unpredictable whims, its immense power, and its ever-changing moods.

Culture

The Cost of Queendom

December 17, 2024

One summer afternoon in New York, a few days after their New York premiere of the acclaimed documentary Queendom, office met up with documentary filmmaker Agniia Galdanova and producer Igor Myakotin at a tattoo parlor on the west side of Manhattan. While Agniia received a tattoo of the portmanteau “DOCU CUNT” across her fists, she — unfazed by the needle on her knuckles — answered our questions alongside Igor about the making of the stirring story that has traveled around the world.

One of the opening scenes of Queendom depicts a ritual many of us are all too familiar with in the 21st century. Jenna Marvin, the documentary film’s central subject, takes her friend along with her to take photos for Instagram. When she finds a suitable backdrop, she poses, poses, poses, and then reviews the photos. Dissatisfied, she gives her notes, and then returns to pose, pose, pose again.

By Brook Aster
Photos by Liv Solomon

The ritual may be familiar, but nothing else about the scene — from its setting to its stakes — is ordinary. The backdrop behind Jenna is a sweeping expanse of ice and snow in a small Russian port town called Magadan. Jenna is dressed in drag, but not drag of the Rupaul’s Drag Race variety; her drag has been referred to as “creature drag.” Her signature white face paint, platform heels and surrealist costumes, with their exaggerated sculptural proportions and use of duct tape and repurposed items, catches the ire of her neighbors and the love of online admirers alike. Jenna eventually accrued a following on social media for her public and technically illegal drag performances, which often involved little more than her walking or being in public spaces but nevertheless were often met with abuse and threats of imprisonment.

But when Agniia first encountered Jenna, she hadn’t yet reached the level of virality that would eventually come in the years to follow. The filmmaker was researching different drag performers in Russia for her sophomore project, which she thought would be a docuseries, when she heard from a friend about a young drag queen from Magadan. “I was like, this is impossible. I have to meet this person,” Agniia remembers. “And I could not actually go meet her because I was in Moscow and she was in Saint Petersburg, so I sent a friend of mine with whom I’d been studying with in film school, and she went and filmed the sample.” The simple video, showing Jenna and her friend getting dressed up for a party, struck something in Agniia. The drag was an earlier, more prototypical version of the style Jenna is now known for; less duct tape and ornamentation, but still that signature striking makeup. “Something sparked. I knew I just had to stick to this feeling,” Agniia says. She decided to turn the docuseries into a documentary solely focused on Jenna.

Around that time, the entire world came to a grinding halt: the onset of COVID-19 pandemic had just led to lockdowns around the globe. With only a couple thousand followers on social media at that point in time, Jenna had tried to branch out and connect with other drag artists in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, but faced rejection; her drag was extremely unconventional, and not even other drag artists quite understood it. “I think we found each other at the right moment, because nobody knew what to do, how to cope with all this,” Agniia says. “Jenna was saying that she was lost, and she also didn't know how to develop her art next.”

Unlike some of the other artists Agniia had initially researched, Jenna didn’t need much convincing to allow the camera into her life. “[Especially] after COVID came, there wasn't really [any] drag in my life,” Jenna recounts when I speak to her later over Zoom. “I realized that what drag is for me is not just a costume, a dress, something that you leave, that you take off and then in the dead of the night you put back on. Later, I understood that this is who I am, that I am art and I am drag, and that this is way bigger and more important than just clothing or costume.”

[LEFT TO RIGHT: Agniia Galdanova, Jenna Marvin, Igor Myakotin]

When it came time to move into production stages, Agniia sent a clip to Igor, who had been referred to her by a past colleague. When Igor saw the footage, he was similarly struck by Jenna — and even more struck to find out she shared his small hometown of Magadan. “It was just so fateful to know that I also come from this town, and I've never seen it through this cinematic lens, through the vision that Agniia has,” he says. “I was mesmerized by the footage, mesmerized by Jenna. I thought to myself, I have to do everything I can [for us] to work together, whatever the collaboration is gonna be.”

The two followed Jenna for over three years; Agniia first relocated to St. Petersburg, where Jenna had taken up residence after leaving her grandparents’ home in Magadan, and later Jenna moved in with Agniia in her home in Moscow. All the while, Igor and his team worked remotely from the United States to meet Agniia’s production needs. Inevitably, with all their time spent together, Agniia and Jenna became close.

“There is an unspoken rule in documentary filmmaking that you have to keep this line, and you can’t overcome certain boundaries,” Agniia explains. “In my first film, it was not an easy subject [to do this with] as well. I was following a family for seven months, and [we became] close, but I always was trying to keep my distance, and was constantly thinking about it. How much should I say? How much should I give?” But as she got to know Jenna, it became clear that this time, that distance wouldn’t be possible. “With Jenna almost from the very beginning, I was like, fuck it. That’s not going to work with this one. I'm going to break this rule 100%. I never regretted it, because that's actually what built up the trust that is there.”

As Jenna's public performances continued and began to garner more public attention, her online audience multiplied. Among her virtual admirers was French fashion maven Michèle Lamy, who would eventually sign onto Queendom as an executive producer. Lamy's discovery of Jenna led to an invitation to walk in the Rick Owens show in Paris — her first time modeling, and her first time leaving Russia in her life. Of course, Agniia and her camera followed. But most of their excursions were not so glamorous; many of Jenna's performances shown in the documentary were undertaken at a real risk to her physical safety, and by extension, to the safety of Agniia. But neither of them were daunted.

I remember who I am. And this is what carries me through this life.

After all, Jenna was used to both taking risks and documenting them well before she was the subject of a film; she and her friends long filmed the often impassioned, sometimes violent reactions of strangers and policemen to their mere existence in public spaces in drag. And after a protest performance in which she wrapped herself in the Russian flag, Jenna was kicked out of beauty school, her last attempt at a practical route before pursuing her drag as a full time venture.

The only time Agniia tried to dissuade her was on Paratrooper’s Day, a Russian military holiday often characterized by the drunk soldiers roaming the streets. The risk for violence was especially high. “On Paratroopers Day, people say you can't come out in skinny jeans or with nail polish,” Jenna describes. “[I think] you should do the opposite. You should really make a statement and come out wearing what you want to wear. I think that clothes, what we wear, is really at some point beyond our psyche, our mind, our understanding. It is as if it's a certain kind of spice that is enticing you and you follow the scent of that spice and you don't see anything else except that scent and you follow it. That's how I see it.”

“I was like, ‘girl, maybe we should not do that,’” Agniia says. “Igor was stressing out and she told us, ‘well, you don't need to follow me. I'm gonna go and do it. I don't care if you're coming or not.’” In the end, Jenna ventured out for her performance anyway, protesting the then-recent invasion of Ukraine. Agniia followed. Not shown in the film is that the two were arrested, and managed to talk the police out of their arrest.

Not too long after, she would have to leave Russia again, this time moving for Paris for good; the film follows her struggles to get a visa in time to leave the country after the onset of the war. “It's already been three years that I've been in France, and it is important for me to understand and remember who I am, and to remember that pain, those moments when we were back in Russia doing drag, fighting with the police and law enforcement,” Jenna says. “It is important that this resistance continues and that those voices are not being silenced. Yes, here there’s much more freedom, there are pride parades and queer people can get married, but this is an illusion because there are also places where you cannot get married and you cannot enjoy the same freedoms. I cling to who I am, who I was from the very beginning. I remember who I am. And this is what carries me through this life.”

“Meeting Jenna gave me hope for the future of the country, because governments come and go, people in power come and go, but the generations change at the same time,” Igor says. “So it warms my heart to see that someone like her came from somewhere like that. If I saw her back then at a similar age, it would be even more personal. I think I would’ve accepted myself as gay quicker, and I wouldn't be nervous or closed and not open to the world or myself… Working with this project also meant that we were amplifying the voices of many, many people who couldn't speak like Jenna could.”

For Agniia, the honor of telling Jenna's story is only paralleled by the honor of having her in her life. “We found each other,” Agniia says. “And what I learned from Jenna is so precious; about life, about art, about surviving. And I appreciate it a lot. This film grew so much larger than just a documentary, because I have a family now, a working family.”

Queendom is now available to stream on Apple TV.