Isn't It Iconic?

January 31, 2019

Print is dead.

We hear it everywhere. From bloggers, to writers, to vintage collectors, everyone has either lamented or celebrated the influx of social media as the official news source of our generation and the bitter end of the written word.

But as magazines and newspapers continue to close up shop, or trade their pages for the now ubiquitous world of “online only,” there’s one man keeping all of us, well, in print: Hemal Sheth, owner of the appropriately titled Iconic Magazines, where readers flock to pick up everything from Emma Czerwinski and Cybelle Corwin’s indie mag The Messy Heads or an obscure French title, to the latest issues of office and Vogue (or if you need an—ahem—tobacco bong, he’s got that covered, too).

Interview by Lee Phillips
Photos by Mariah Winter

After moving to New York in 1993, Sheth began working at his uncle’s convenience store. Flash forward 25 years and that little family-owned shop on Mulberry Street has become the go-to spot for anything print, with three locations in Lower Manhattan—the original Mulberry Iconic, Lafayette Iconic and Bouwerie Iconic. To say he’s single handedly keeping print alive isn’t even an overstatement—at least in New York City.

But being one of the last of the city’s old school newsstands (you know the kind—think: magazines, pipes and a little X-rated section) can’t be easy, especially when your product comes from an industry that everyone, including its leaders, have declared dead. It takes patience, savvy and, perhaps more than anything, passion—and Sheth has more than all of his magazines combined, which, if you’ve ever stepped foot in Iconic, you know is a lot.

Read our interview with the owner, below.

Why did you first come to New York?

Everybody wants to come here. Everyone has a dream—it's a great life here. And back then, it was easy to get a visa. I love everything about New York—it’s energy; it's the best business place in the world. When you put everything together—life, energy, the people, you just can't beat it.

How did you come to own Iconic?

When I came over here, I started working in a convenience store. My uncle had a business and I started working for him. Since I was in engineering, art and fashion has been my passion from the beginning. In 1995, I took over the convenience store location. That's when I filled it with magazines—it was my idea. That's what I was interested in, and that's what people wanted, and still want. I’ve always loved art and fashion, and spiritual magazines. I’m not an artist, I guess, but I love to read about them. When I started, I was also the first one to display the magazines in acrylic stands, so that you can see the whole cover, and I designed all of my own locations myself.

What draws you to print media? Everyone nowadays is online or using their Kindle.

I remember when Kindles came out. For the first three or four years, it hurt print media a lot because of the convenience. Still, print is much better because you have the copy in your hand—you can look at it and feel it. People who are interested in the art of reading, they want to feel it. You just don't get that on a Kindle. I have two kids—they’re 18 and 15—and at first, they were on Kindles and iPads. But after a couple years they came back to print. t's about the feeling of it, the smell even.

It's such a good feeling to flip a page, and not just for the reader, but for the artist—it's important to create something physical.

Over the last year, I’ve seen the world come back to printing. I've seen more independent publications, more people buying and coming into the market.

What are some magazines that people ask for consistently?

Vogue, British Vogue, Purple and office, definitely. I get a lot of inquiries about all of the independent magazines. Independent publications are so unique, each and every one has their own style, and they have close followers. In 2005, when everyone thought print was dying, weekly titles in America stopped printing, and they were all going online. But not art and fashion magazines—they’re different. And they’re still in demand—they always will be.

Why did you name your stores ‘Iconic’?

It's a cool name, right? Iconic means that it’s something unique, something that stands out. If I want to create something, I should use a name that has as much of an impact as what I'm doing.

There's a connection between iconic magazines and iconic people. What role do magazines play in making people iconic? Or is it the other way around?

It goes both ways. To be iconic, you have to prove yourself, right? Then you need social media and publicity. Everyone sees magazines. So, they both help each other, in a circle. Kim Kardashian became iconic, and she couldn't have done that without the media, especially print media. And iconic magazines—not the store—create that status by having iconic people on their covers.

So many people still say that print is dying. Big bookstores like Barnes and Noble are closing all of the time, but you seem to only be doing better.

It's the location—and we are dedicated to what we're doing. We’re a small business, so we don't have an owner like Barnes and Noble, and we don't have to face the problems of a big company. We do what we are capable of, and we do it well.

How do you make a profit on a magazine in 2019?

We buy it from distributors and independent magazines on commission—we don't do wholesale. So, we pay for what we sell. That's the only way the magazine business is going to survive. There are just so many magazines and it's impossible to predict what is actually going to sell—it even changes with each issue. One might sell 100 copies, one might sell 20.

What sets apart the magazines in your store from other newsstands?

We have a lot of indie mags, and the quality and content is just so good. If it's too vulgar, we don't want to offend anyone, and the quality of the magazine we carry has to be incredibly high. I don't personally go through every magazine, because now we have some 3,000 titles, but I did do that in the beginning. It’s all about the content.

What's in the future for Iconic Magazines?

We have three locations that are doing very well. Magazine sales are going up every day. This business requires a lot of work, and the return isn't that high. Everyone is after easy money, and magazines are not that. It’s a lot of work. So, less and less people are in the books and magazines business. You really need to have interest in it. I not only have interest, but it’s my passion.

Visit Iconic Magazines at 188 Mulberry Street, or at their other locations on Lafayette and Bowery.

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.