Let's Talk About Sudan

At this point, you’ve probably heard about the recent violence in Sudan or, at the very least, noticed dark blue circles fill up your Instagram feed in the past few weeks in the name of raising awareness for the crisis. But in case you don’t know why it’s happening, here’s a mini rundown (although you might want to do more reading on it if you haven’t already):

Sudan’s president Omar al-Bashir's was overthrown in April earlier this year after serving over 30 years in office. Responsible for numerous crimes against humanity including genocide, rape, murder, and torture, amongst others, al-Bashir left the country in complete chaos and on the brink of economic collapse.

The demonstrations that had been taking place against al-Bashir began to spread to the country’s capital, Khartoum, and the issue of transition of power led to the Sudanese military taking charge. Sudanese paramilitaries raped and assaulted medics and protesters as the entire country suffered a nationwide internet blackout. Amongst all of the terror, many people have pointed out that American media outlets have done little coverage to spread awareness of the crisis in Sudan, which is now currently at a political stalemate.

Gak shares deeply personal experiences from her youth with office—nightmarish memories that reflect the horror Sudanese people have endured under the country’s ongoing political crisis. Read the interview below:

Top, broche + skirt by MNZ, earrings by Ellery, shoes by Yuul Yie, beret by Chanel

What was it like growing up in Egypt as a Sudanese person?

So, I was born in Sudan, but I left when I was three. We moved to Egypt. I was a refugee, and actually, there was a lot of racism going on in Egypt. My sister was murdered there in 2005 by Egyptians, so it was really hard.

I’m really sorry you had to go through that. I looked into that event a little bit, about how the Egyptian police had murdered over 20 unarmed Sudanese refugees. If you’re comfortable enough to talk about it, what happened that day on December 30, 2005 as per your recollection?

It was right after Christmas, and I remember my mom and my sister—we went somewhere that’s like a park. And all the Sudanese people were basically there protesting, because they didn’t like the way people in Egypt were treating us. We were basically telling them, “If you guys don’t want us in your country, you can take us somewhere better.” It could’ve been America, Australia, Canada or even just send us back home, you know?

I remember this night, because we were actually sleeping, and then I remember my mother waking me and my sister up. And there were Egyptian police surrounding us, demanding us to get out of the park. And they didn’t give us any time, but a lot of people had children there, you know? My mom luckily only had my sister and I, but a lot of people had more children than that. And waking up an infant or a young kid is hard. If you’re a parent, you know that. It takes a while for them to wake up.

So they didn’t give us any time to get up and pack our stuff to leave. Then they started attacking us. First, they were watering us with hot water. I remember my mother was holding mine and my sister’s hands. Then, we went to this little tree in the middle of the park, and we stood there while everybody was basically running around. That’s the last thing I remember before I woke up.

I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through. What happened after you lost consciousness?

So when I woke up, I was literally underneath people. There were dead bodies on top of me. I thought I was dead, but I had passed out, being stomped on and all of that. My sister was not around me. My mother wasn’t. I didn’t know where they were or if they were even alive. And instead of taking us to the hospital, they took us to prison.

So I was in prison for a month—my mother and I were there actually. We didn’t even know my sister had passed away until we went home and were told that my sister was murdered in that park.

When you say you returned home, do you mean you home in Sudan or Egypt?

Egypt. I don’t think I would ever go back to either countries though, because of my sister. Even though people think that racism exists only in America, that’s not true at all. At least in America, there are people that will actually stand up for you, and it’s not allowed. But in Egypt, it’s behind closed doors, and nobody talks about it, you know? It’s like we can’t do anything about it.

Left - Skirt, blazer and jacket by Calvin Klein, shoes by Yuul Yie, earrings by Michael Olestad, beret by Chanel

Right - Jacket by Dries Van Noten, gloves by Chanel, earrings by Michael Olestad

With everything that’s going on over in Sudan, it’s so shocking to know that people are experiencing that level of violence and terror that you experienced as a child. Do you still have family in Sudan?

I do have family in Sudan. Actually since the recent crisis, my mom—she has two sisters and her brother living out there. When all that craziness started happening recently, we sent them money, because you couldn’t be out and about with all the protesting and violence going on. You can’t go to work. You can go and buy food, and then go back to your house. We talk though. My auntie calls us like every day.

And so, even though you’re physically separated from what’s going on, how else has the current crisis in Sudan emotionally affected you or your mother?

It was a lot, because I’m so close with my mom. We’re like one person, to be honest. So everything that affects her, affects me. Those are her siblings. If anything happens to them, she would be so upset. That’s her only family, because it’s just my mother and I here in America. My family’s not that big. It’s too much to bear to think about losing somebody else, because my mom has already lost her husband and my sister.

My mom has been stressed out, and she calls me everyday. My mom’s also been dealing with health problems, and it’s hard on her with what’s happening in Sudan, you know?

What do you hope to see happen in Sudan?

Peace. All peace. Just peace.

If you want to do your part to help out the victims of the crisis in Sudan, consider donating to these organizations:

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.