Wes Knoll's Rite of Passage

January 19, 2024

In his debut book, Fading Smile, Wes Knoll takes us through the rabbit hole of NY adolescence, emerging bruised and bone-wearied, yet with a matured sense of fortitude. Ultimately seeking redemption, he also learns to forgive the city he once viewed with purity.

Spanning a decade, this intimate portrait guides us through an odyssey of countless adventures spawned from exploring the city’s underbelly in his relatively short life. With each image, Knoll immerses us in a community of kids whose lives and experiences are delicately and unavoidably interwoven. He illustrates a sea of emotions in this complicated tale, almost like threading a needle with barbed wire. It is as if we are plopped into the crevices of his memory. Whether Knoll left this world behind by choice or by force, his cinematic portrayal of his surroundings preserves the virtue of his experiences, difficult to prescribe sole meaning to. Understanding this world is hard unless you are part of it; by the time you realize what you’ve become, the world reappears in foggy disillusionment. Despite heartbreak and betrayal in found circumstances, Knoll beautifully transmutes the camaraderie and exhilaration of the chaos inherent in the environment that, in some way, nurtured him.

Words by Sarah Ignas
Photography by Wes Knoll

While these images expose prevalent themes of rebellion, his deep-rooted connection to the people and places he inhabits allows a blossomed sense of meaning. Instead of reveling in the past, he owns up to his faults with newfound introspection and a digested sense of his youth. Fading Smile is a love letter to the city he's always known, a place he could’ve left behind and sworn off. Instead, he preserves the past with tenderness and an understanding that although the city changes, his memories of it remain the same.

Hi Wes! Thank you so much for meeting with me today. Congrats on the release. How has 2024 been so far? Do you make resolutions?

Thank you! My new year was good. It was pretty chill. I relieved myself of the pressure to have a crazy night and celebrated with friends intimately at the house, toasted to the ball drop. I don’t really make resolutions anymore. In the past I have. A tradition of mine growing up was making a wish for the year and tying it to a balloon and letting it go into the sky.

I love that. So you grew up in New York. What is the biggest difference between the city you grew up in and the one you see now?

Yeah, born and raised. People and places have changed the most. There's less of a sense of community. The influx of people who relocated from other states has kind of eradicated the true identity of a New Yorker in their neighborhood. Besides lots of businesses falling victim to gentrification, the actual identity of a New Yorker has begun to take on a new definition, which is two-fold. I think it's a double-edged sword.

Do you think there will be a resurrection of the New York you grew up in?

I think it’s gone and it’s not coming back. I think there is this trend of New Yorkers, or people who grew up here, always talking to the younger generation saying, "It was great until the moment you got here. You just missed it." I think there is an element of everyone identifying with a late-to-the-party ethos. I do think we are moving in a different direction in terms of accessibility when it comes to living, the price of everything has become astronomical and it’s fostering less of an artistic environment for people.

Have you ever thought about moving?

I’ve thought about it, but it’s my bread and butter.

What type of person do you gravitate toward?

The freaks of nature. I think people who are unique individuals and don’t really give a fuck about what other people think about them. Also people who are just going to swim against the stream of normality and society. Whether it be their clothing or whatever they are ranting about on the street corner. Or whatever it is they choose to do with their life be it graffiti, panhandling, racking. I love to see the quirks within the human condition and give light to them, rather than step on those cracks in the sidewalk which I think a lot of people do without realizing.

Getting into the book, I was very drawn to the introduction. Can you expand on your process of writing it and what you wanted to convey?

The introduction went through countless edits to capture years of unique stories as well as personalities. More so what this unique microcosm was to me. What I wanted to convey the most was this world I found myself immersed in, was representative of what I believed to be the truth and a right of passage for many New Yorkers, as well as many teenagers in general, regardless if they grow up in a major city or not. I don’t think people realize it is super universal, in all these oddly niche experiences and personalities, we have to keep it secret because we’re young. Something I wanted to highlight was the risk factor and what these crazy characters were immersed in… to just capture that cinematic level of disbelief from the stories that make up these images.

How much of your youth informed your stylistic choices?

Pretty heavy. I saw a quote once, that you listen to the music that you love when you're 18 for the rest of your life and I find myself falling victim to that. I find myself having a foot both in the past and the present. As I get older I begin to question that. And stray while trying to find out which is the right truth to follow. In terms of inspirations, art practices, or life choices, I have a heavy sense of identity from my youth and the way that I viewed the world then with a certain purity I hope to maintain as I age.

How did you decide to arrange the photographs?

There is a narrative in terms of their sequencing. The order I was seeking was the first spread of the book: people climbing the sides of the highway to paint graffiti, following them climbing to this abandoned area, going off to explore the world, immediately getting arrested afterwards on the side of the road. Countless spread of journal entries of what's coming next. As well as what fueled and funded what came next, which is pounds and pounds of weed, ounces of coke, thousands of dollars. Then you are hit with a myriad of collages of the characters in the book who are living their lives, and exploring thematic ideas like someone who has a tattoo of loyalty across their neck; money laundering; people sticking their heads out the side of windows on road trips; girls kissing each other on prom night; or a letter I wrote when I was child after I stole something from a museum. My dad made me write a thousand times on a piece of paper: I will listen to my parents, I’m sorry for what I did. Towards the end there's a road trip chapter, I feel like once you spend enough time in New York you need to get out. There’s also a graffiti section, and one of going out to California to cop drugs and bring them back. The characters find themselves back in the city with love letters and death once again. It's an enigmatic look at that process, without revealing too much.

I love to see the quirks within the human condition and give light to them, rather than step on those cracks in the sidewalk which I think a lot of people do without realizing.

Anyone get upset about something you put in the book?

So far no or at least no one has confronted me. But there are definitely tons of things I did not include for those reasons as well. I think there is a level of intimacy that I definitely wanted to respect for certain people’s lives, narratives, and stories.

How did it feel releasing something so vulnerable?

The book has gone through so many iterations. I’ve worked on it for three years. I was really nervous leading up to the release because it has a ton of myself in it as well as other people. To me the greatest works of art are the most vulnerable, the most honest, and self-reflexive. I felt I really needed to put all of myself in it in order for it to resonate with people. So having done that and receiving such a positive embrace from friends and supporters was more than I could have ever imagined and feel grateful for.

Do you have a favorite moment in time during the book?

My favorite moment in time in the book... that's tough, but I would probably have to say either the photograph of the two girls making out, which was taken on another high school’s prom night or making it through TSA with over $50,000.00 in cash divided up between 4 carry-on pieces of luggage that we used to buy 100 pounds of weed. There's also a photo of a ripped sheet of paper from a yellow legal pad with the words “text to get sucked 578-620-1216” written in red ink which was thrown at me out of a car window one night while I was writing graffiti in Brooklyn after midnight. The other moment in time is one that is seemingly mundane, but represents the moments I cherish most from this time period: a photo of my two friends, Diego & Jesse, as we sat on this rooftop above 72nd and broadway, which became a very meaningful and symbolic place for this community of kids.

Is there anything you wish you could tell your younger self from that period of time when things were unstable?

Honestly, no. I don’t wish I had any other wisdom than I had at the time. I’d want my younger self to tell my current self to keep getting out there. Back then when I would make a decision about whether I needed to go out to document or experience or partake, I would ask myself if I would remember the evening I was engrossed in at home better than if I submit myself to the possibility of the unknown. I would turn my mind off like a light switch and that's something I would want to tell myself more today. Just go, don’t think, let my feet take me, and the rest will work out.

Do you ever wish you could go back?

I used to wish that I could go back constantly. When I left the city for college, I would listen to all the voice memos that I had recorded in attempts to transcribe dialogue and stories for the project, reliving the memories and laughing like a madman to myself. This was when the first true iteration of this project was made, back in 2017. The title I had then was "Qasim." Now I do not wish to go back, I think releasing this project has been carthartic, allowing me to understand, make sense of and close this chapter of my life — something I aimed to help other people do with their adolescence as well. A universality through the intimate.

Do you agree it’s fun until it isn’t?

No, I don’t agree that it’s fun until it isn’t. It is always fun. My mother always used to say a similar phrase in a told-you-so type of way whenever we would goof off too hard and injure ourselves growing up saying, “It's all fun and games until its not”. But, since time is non-linear, and we often fondly reminisce on moments in the past that seemed terrible, once over and behind us, they can be laughed at and reflected on with glee and acceptance. An old barber of mine from Sicily used to always say, “-but, ehhhwhaddaryougonnadoaboudit”. The best stories are always the worst ones. Sometimes we forget that until we realize it is rumination. Hindsight is 20/20.

Are there any other artistic mediums you’d like to try or are currently exploring?

I’m working on a short film featuring this lady I met on West 4th Street who's been living on the streets for quite some time now. Her name is Marianne. She has a beautiful singing voice and was a singer in her younger years. I’m looking to do more short films that are character profiles. Shining light on people who make the city run that I think don’t get a lot of shine, but who actually define the city.

What are you looking forward to in the future?

More adventures, more exploration, more stories, meeting more people and getting to understand them. I hope I can better understand myself too and help other people do the same.

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.