Igor in the Desert

June 15, 2018

"The sun is shining like a bare lightbulb over the scorched landscape of Yucca Valley, California. But this story begins in the dark. A windowless music venue, the hour nearing midnight, in London. The year is 2009 and I'm behind the bar pulling prints when in walk two figures dressed in black. One, Igor, will later become my husband. The other, Marie, will become a dear friend. But in that moment they were strangers and I simply stare, enamoured by her long hair and his striking features as they whisper and laugh in the corner..."

Nearly 10 years later and I find myself tagging along Igor and Marie's latest adventure - a photoshoot in the Californian desert. Times have changed: Marie, a photography student when we met, is now an accomplished filmaker and photographerm and is traveling in LA. Igor, a writer, musician and theatre proffessional, has recently moved to California, following me back to my hometown of San Francisco where I work as a journalist.

Interview by Charlotte Simmonds
Art Direction and Photography by Marie Schuller
Styling by Soki Mak
Photography by Marie Schuller
Modeling by Igor Grbesic
Retouching by Jon Oliver

As long as I've known Igor and Marie they have been collaborators - on photohgraphs and films and music, on picnics in the park and drinks at the pub and dance parties that went on until dawn.

And how better to make sense of this new American landscape than to grab a car and a camera and a pair of comboy boots? As I watch them work, it becomes clear that making pictures together is not simply about the beauty and absurdity of the dessert. It's also about two old friends - long united by their immigrant status - using images, theater and fashion to explore a new home with outsider's eyes.

Thus begun a wide-ranging conversation on friendship and creativity, London and America, inauthenticity and migration, held during our evenings in the dersert, sipping mojitos in the backyard at sunset, and over Skype in the weeks that followed.

I should probably already know the answer to this, but I don't. How did you guys actually meet?

Igor Grbesic Well it was in London of course, and I would say it was at about 5am. I was in a band at the time. My bandmates and I went out and then around 5am we ended up back at this bar on Holloway Road called Bar Cosa for a lock in.

Marie Schuller Yeah, I was working at Bar Cosa. Igor's bandmate worked there too and he brought Igor back to the bar. Igor later ended up working there as well.

What brought you both to London in the first place?

IG Well, the war in Yugoslavia. I came because I was hoping to save my life, to be honest. But then to improve my life. I thought London was the center of the universe - everything that was interesting was happening in London. It smelled of freedom and vodka.

MS To be honest, I never wanted to go to London. I thought it was old-fashioned, that people were boring and just drank tea. It didn't sound cool to me as a 17-year-old German. I came for a job as an au pair and was only supposed to stay for five months - but I stayed for 15 years. It just became home. You start studying, you start setting up roots. I always wanted to go to New York - that was exotic and cool - and I kept trying to make it happen. I had a little stint there but kept falling back into the wide open bosom of London.

Sometimes I think that everything in London starts with a pub. Your local becomes your whole world. My life was shaped by the pub I worked at - it gave me all my friends, my relationship, my understanding of British culture. What did the bar where you met mean to you?

IG Bar Cosa was a fantastic place, one of those spots that gathered all the barflies and the locals.

MS There were so many characters. Igor, remember the old army guy who made me cry? It was just you and me behind the bar and he shouted at me, "Hey, you don't do anything! That other guy is doing all the work!"

IG Haha yeah. That was Army Andy, he was really nervous. He had been in Bosnia as part of the UN and has seen shit all over the place. Then there was Dangerous Dan. And Conspiracy Andy, and Rick Guinness. And then the bar owner - a guy who never drank but would have one mental night out a year. If it was a slow afternoon he would close up the bar and go shoot pigeons on the back terrace. I actually ended up writing a play based on all these characters.

MS You don't realize it back then...at the time I thought I was going to make films that were really glamorous and beautiful. But actually, that chapter made me more interested in the grimy side of society. We went to the worst places. When I think about it now some of it makes me kind of sick. The whole dirtiness of walking home at 7am and your feet hurt and you don't have money to take a cab.

You don't realize when you are going through it but it sets a foundation of how you see life. Like how Igor writes his music or his plays, or how I do pictures.

IG l think it does become romanticized, in a kind of skewed way.

Speaking of romanticization, what did you guys think of American before you came here?

MS Well you know it't funny, Igor came to London because he though it was the best place and I just came because I had an offer. Now we've ended up here in the completely opposite way. Igor came as part of this natural progression with you, whereas I came because as a filmmaker, LA was the place to go. I came here because of a dream, he came here because of an offer.

IG Yeah I wasn't too impressed with America, to be honest. My whole impression was informed by John Wayne, old Hollywood stuff. Then the cheesy rubbish of the 80's and 90s. I had a fascination with it because of that prevalence in the media, in music. But I also thought I should avoid this place.

MS We get taught about America through films. Then everybody comes here chasing those films. I think especially in places like Joshua Tree, they play on that. Pioneertown is a great example. You are literally walking onto a film set. A fabricated town that was built to replicate the backdrop of the American dream.

Was this photoshoot meant to mess around with that idea? Two non-Americans playing with cliched images of America?

MS Yes completely, we wanted to play with the whole thing. There is nothing authentic about the shoot. But it's designed to look like a documentary. So that's kind of the illusion. We are trying to create this deeply American world but there are no Americans in it - it's me, a German, and Igor, a Croat. It is just our perception of what America is. A hyper-reality.

IG I guess it goes back again to the way that I got to know America, through the media, through music, film and TV. The only way I can relate to America is to step back and be in this odd, but somehow still familiar, environment.

MS But that's exactly it. You, as an American, can see all the complexity. But we just have this one-dimensional image.

I've got a great example: Karl May. He is one of the most famous German authors, and he wrote loads of books about the America west, "cowboys and indians" kind of stuff. But never in his entire life has he been to America. And in Germany we all grew up on these books, we get fed this version and we don't know if its true.

Is theatricality and illusion often a theme in your respective work?

MS Theatrics are always a big part of my work, and so is playfulness. I like the idea that this shoot is hightly theatrical but lookds like a documentary. That merger of genres leaves the audience confused and intrigued, and there is a tension in it that I like. Photos and films that keep you guessing are much more fascinating.

IG Definitely as you say, fantasy, humor, playfulness and illusion are also in my writing. At the moment I'm working on a comedic movie script about destiny and coincidence. It's about an object, a pearl, finding its way back to its rightful owner through the decades. But the object itself is the main character, whereas the humans are peripheral. I'm playing around with the idea of a universe in which we are pawns in this object's journey.

You both have spent the majority of your adult lives as immigrants in other countries. Do you feel that being an outsider has informed your perspective?

IG I don't recognize borders. Boundaries are not for me. But then for the first time when I came to America, I was called an "alien". For me, an alien is something that eats you, as implied in the Ridley Scott film. That term surprised and scared me. I think it's so unfair to call a person an alien.

MS It's funny because I consider myself a Londoner, but I'm German. Germans think I do this "just to be cool". I don't know what the British think but I know they definitely see me as German - I have a harsher accent than Arnold Schwarzenegger. But the fact is I understand British culture way better than I understand Germans, who over the years have become increasingly mysterious to me. So I don't really belong to any country, which is totally fine and doesn't matter to me. But it intrigues me how "belonging" works.

IG I think Joshua Tree worked for us for that reason. The surrounding area is stunning and out of this world, martian-like, perfect for my new "alien" tag. One could feel at home if it wasn't so splintery, thorny, dusty and bloody hot.

This area is the perfect example of how fences are not only unnecessary, but counter-productive. If you don't fence yourself off, you have the whole desert as your back garden. It's vast and it's yours and it's beautiful. The moment you put a fence up, your view is narrower and you land is smaller.

Was there anything about moving to America that suprised you? That you didn't expect?

IG There is a lot more water in the bog (toilet) than in Europe. Everything and everyone is bigger than on TV. Or ever the big screen. And louder. And friendlier.

MS It feels like the lack of cynicism lets everyone live out their weirdness with no sense of shame. Everyone is chasing some odd obsession. Another thing that becomes very blatant, that isn't communicated in the media as often, is the widespread issues of drug addiction, mental illness, and homelessness. That is intense.

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.