Zack Bia: Business, Man

January 19, 2022

One of the greatest players in any creative work is time. It doesn’t matter how well you plan something out, what schedule you think you’re on, or how perfectly you imagine a project to turn out. Time doesn’t care. A prime example: office was supposed to coordinate a Zoom interview with Zack Bia the week of Thanksgiving 2021. An easy, fun conversation with the person who embodies the whole ‘If you know you know’ vibe more than anyone else in the music industry—a twenty-five-year-old white kid who Drake calls his brother, who manages some of the biggest up and coming rappers from the second wave of Soundcloud, and one of the many protégés of Virgil Abloh.

But then Virgil Abloh passed away the day our interview was supposed to be scheduled. The art and fashion worlds went into mourning, highlighting just how much an impact the designer, DJ and artist had. In the days after his death, it became even clearer: there really isn’t an inch of the culture that hasn’t been influenced by Virgil Abloh. Naturally, we didn’t hear from Zack for a day after expecting not to hear from him for a week. With great kindness and an obvious sadness, he still showed up. But time got in the way again. I was supposed to fly out to Miami for Art Basel to coordinate a conversation between him and Cole Bennett, the legendary music video creator and Zack’s close friend. Instead, I developed the worst flu of my life. So, I sent someone else instead: underground New York icon, artist, filmmaker, Telfar model and photographer, Raheem Hercule, who’s also friends with Zack and Cole.

Introduction SAAM NIAMI
Interview RAHEEM HERCULE and COLE BENNETT
Photography CIAN MOORE
Styling and Editor in Chief SIMON RASMUSSEN
Hair DANIEL MOON
Fashion Assistants DAMIEN LLOYD and VALERIE BUTLER
Production Assistant OONA OGLESBY

The group met at Miami’s SoHo House—the same venue where Zack Bia first snuck in to see Virgil DJ over five years ago. Before heading to Chicago to attend Abloh’s memorial service, Zack talked to Cole and Raheem about bringing people together, finding your priorities, and, of course, time.

RAHEEM HERCULE — Let’s talk about why it’s such a full circle moment for you to be here right now.

ZACK BIA — I actually think that before we even start talking about anything—and it applies to the full circle thing—is, like, I definitely want to start by just saying how much we love Virgil. I love Virgil and want to say rest in peace to him. A lot of this is only possible just because of him and the ideas he laid out, the help he gave me, doors he opened for me—for everyone—and just allowing people to be multi-hyphenate creative, and kind of defining what that was in an era when people thought you can only do one thing. He broke down all those barriers and as someone who looked up to him very much and was lucky to know him very well, I definitely want to start it all by just dedicating this to him, and showing him the most love or just appreciation... There’s nothing that I can do to do any justice to him, but I at least just want to start by mentioning him first and foremost. We love Virgil. Virgil forever. It’s full circle because my first Basel ever—funny enough, my mom was one of the first creative people that was invited to be a member of SoHo House when it first started in New York in the early days. So, she came to New York. We went to SoHo House all the time when I was a kid—actually, the first was that I got paid for anything was actually curated a playlist for the iPod at SoHo House. They gave my mom like $150 bucks credit or whatever and she gave it to me in cash. Long story short, 2017, my first Art Basel, I came here to throw parties and whatever, and I wasn’t a member at Soho. My mom always said like, ‘When you’re 21.’ I remember being like, a 12-year-old kid being like, ‘I can’t wait to be 21 to get a SoHo membership.’ I thought it was the coolest place ever. You know, time flies, your priorities change. But 2017 Art Basel, Virgil’s DJing the tent party at Soho and I’m DJing tonight. I met Virgil a couple of times and we were cool. We were internet friends or whatever, but I was just such a massive admirer of his and I just wanted to see him DJ so bad. So, he’s DJing this part of the tent I don’t have membership for, where the same five people are sharing the same wristband, like someone will walk it out under the thing, hand you the wristband, boom, boom, boom... Now, five years later, we’re here doing an interview in the same hotel for my first cover ever. And I’m DJing at the same party.

RH — What do you want to do for your community? Like what are you trying to put in front of them in terms of the shit that you’re working on and building? And what do you want them to get out of it?

ZB — The most important thing in the early stages, like in the current stage, is the music. So, Cole and I had this conversation last night about leaving certain things in moments, and art that lasts beyond yourself—it’s bigger than yourself and will last beyond your years. Also, a big thing Cole and I always talk about is, there’s this new movement that’s happening in music, this whole kind of like, underground SoundCloud 2.0. Cole was at the epicenter of the first movement, which changed music forever, because it was like, one of the first modern movements that involved the internet and all the sort of things that were nontraditional in music, just as music was entering the streaming era, and the SoundCloud era. It was like, pop music wasn’t SoundCloud rap. Back then, the music business had kind of been ignoring all these kinds of things—until it got so big that they were like, ‘Shit, this is a massive business, or a massive movement that we’re missing out on.’ Then, you saw like a chickens with their head cut off free-for-all—‘Let’s sign all these SoundCloud artists, any of them, all of them.’ It became this crazy thing in the business. But Cole was at the epicenter of the pure side of it, which is like kids that were just making shit and it was going viral, and it was powerful, transcendent pop music. Juice WRLD is still the number three most streamed artist on Spotify this year. There’s almost like, a little gap where I’m like... This isn’t even necessarily for me as a fan, just for this next generation that’s five years, six years younger than me. Cole, someone who was a part of the first movement and now, and me, who’s kind of championing the second one. So, I was in the first one living in it, being around those artists, but not in a professional setting where I was signing them. After living in it and seeing it now, seeing the second coming that’s formed as we were signing artists, creating a real family where we signed a bunch of them and together they’re all stronger because the whole movement’s getting stronger. It’s not about bringing them to the forefront. Their fan bases are growing every day. It’s clear as day. Now, my whole thing is just letting the rest of the world know that there’s this whole thing happening over here.

COLE BENNET — What Zack is doing, I’d say the most special part about it is: you bring people together and you create community with everything you do. The first time Zack and I ever met—we had been in contact over the internet for a couple years—I was on a video shoot and he saw that I was out in LA working. He was like, ‘Hey, come out tonight.’ He brought me out and we had a good night where he was just introducing me to different people and building genuine relationships. It was just a really amazing thing to see, because a lot of people, and this is much like the first wave of SoundCloud, that first chapter, a lot of people want to gatekeep things, you know what I mean? Even artists. And I think that’s one of those things that starts to kind of tarnish what’s going on and separate people. One of the things about Zack is, he just loves bringing people together. He’s been doing that for so long with the events that he produces, just being a man behind the scenes within culture. So now, with him having such an important piece in the music scene now, you’re able to do that with the artists that you’re working with. That’s what we need in music— community, and bringing people together, bringing different artists together that wouldn’t make music otherwise. That’s one of Zack’s goals, but it’s not something that’s written down necessarily. It’s just something that happens. It’s very natural for him. I think that’s part of his story and his legacy and what he’s creating— moments that wouldn’t be able to happen otherwise, bringing people together that would never meet otherwise. So, I’m curious... What’s the goal of bringing all these different people together?

ZB — People together in music, or in general?

CB — I’d say in general, and then lead that into the music.

ZB — In general, the beauty of it is, I don’t do it for any reason that benefits me. There’s a genuine bond there and genuine respect. The fact that we can bring these people together—I think it’s such a special thing. If I can be that missing link... It’s not about me getting credit, it’s not about this or that. It’s about the moments that happen after—the butterfly effect of introducing these people and what they end up doing together. It’s kinda like what A&R does—helping bring songs to life. I was kind of always doing that socially. That’s why we started the record label.

RH — What are some of the artists that you’re trying to bring to the table right now?

ZB — I think Yeat’s the biggest breakout star next year—or, one of them. I think Kobe’s going to be a breakout star next year. All these kids. Slump6s has this viral song, “Anti-social”—we built that song up and now it has like 80 million streams. It’s a hit. It’s a gold record. I mean, I haven’t checked the actual certification, but it’s about to be a gold record. And he’s a 16-year-old kid who’s in school in upstate New York—in Rochester—who’s an underground superstar. He has 200,000 followers on Instagram, die-hard fans, big viral songs... And he’s 16 years old. I had to schedule our Republic Records calls around his soccer practice. And that’s the reality, that’s the mission. I’m like, ‘These kids are just fucking amazing young kids that we’re trying to help realize their dreams.’ And it’s both of our dreams.

RH — How were you able to attain so much broad access to so many different kinds of artists to even be able to put these people in the same space?

CB — I think for him, it’s what he was saying about how he can appreciate different pieces of, or mediums of, art and culture, and maybe not be too attached to something. It starts with an appreciation and an understanding.

ZB — I think an [understanding] of human beings in general.

CB — Yeah, he gets how people work. He gets how people operate and he knows how to be in a room.

ZB — How to contextualize it.

CB — But there are also low points and we always talk about that too—like, the anxiety and the difficulties of just navigating life. What’s that like for you? The ups and the downs? And how do they affect one another? How do you guide yourself through them, living this crazy life?

ZB — The thing is, I’m sort of on this train that isn’t stopping. And in a sense that, I mean that my work life, my personal life, there’s no distinction—it’s all just one life. Taking calls all day, I’m DJing this, I’m running around, we’re traveling, I’m seeing you hanging out with my friends... It’s all just sort of one melting pot and constantly moving forward. And because I never take a second to stop—I can’t. I’m on this crash course to try and build all these crazy things. I have people I need to take care of. I have things I want to accomplish. I have people I need to help. When you’re dealing with artists, you’re dealing with human beings, their livelihoods, and they’re entrusting you with them. So, I never really have a second to stop, and I get anxious all the time. I deal with people discrediting what I’m doing because they don’t know my story. I deal with family stress, financial stress. The funny thing is, like, I’ve always been the kid that everyone thought was rich, but I’m the one that’s struggling to make it. I mean, I’m not struggling financially anymore, but for a long time, I was struggling to help everyone else take care of people. And I deal with that outside pressure. But it wasn’t intentional... I never really was trying to explain what I’m doing, I was just kind of doing it and people were paying attention along the way. And then there are the people that weren’t paying attention. But I think when I’m 50, this whole chapter of who I am will be a one-page chapter as opposed to all the things we end up doing. And not that it’s for people’s validation or whatever, but I think the greatest thing is when you’re living these amazing moments, we have the self-awareness to talk about it and be like, How amazing is this?

It’s about the moments that happen after— the butterfly effect of introducing these people and what they end up doing together.

CB — It’s the moments where you pause that are the most special and beautiful. Take it all in. That’s why we have to always remind each other, because it’s one or the other and often at the same time... We gotta just stop. You can’t stop for too long because you can’t fall behind, but you gotta stop for a second, take it all in, keep moving. And I think that’s how the story gets told, and that’s a big part of what Zach’s doing, and what’s being created right now. He’s so truly passionate about what’s going on. It’s real love. It’s real context. And he’s just doing it... There’s gonna be documentaries. There are going to be movies about this shit. I do believe that.

ZB — Yeah, and I think COVID also was this break that we didn’t realize we needed in a sense, trying to take the good out of it. But also in the sense that, funny enough, I thought we’re all back to how it was prior in terms of how people interact. But for a second it was like, ‘Yo, a month has gone by, I’m not getting the same texts from the same people,’ and you realize a lot of the relationships are transactional. Who do I really care about? Who really cares about me? Who am I really talking to? And that’s fine. Some relationships are business, some relationships are more, and that’s totally fine. But I think it also puts a lot of things in perspective for everyone.

CB — Yo, another question—I want to just hop in before I forget it. Time and attention are a currency and I feel like everyone has their own budget for their time and their attention to things. So, how do you recommend someone spend their budget and how do you spend yours? Because you do so many things. I think one of my first questions for Zach after I got to know him for a little bit, I was like, ‘How do you do it?’ But it’s really how you spend your time and attention.

ZB — I think it’s something I’m actually learning more and more about, because I spend so much of my time on others in a beautiful way. I’m happy I do that, but it’s about learning to prioritize what’s genuinely important. And to me, obviously, that’s family, it’s friends. I put friends and family in the same boat. I only have my mom and my brother and I’m super close with them, but because I didn’t grow up around a bunch of cousins and things like that, my close friends are definitely family to me, and my priorities are those key people in my life, and then work and the mission we’re on. We’re not stopping. And I think it’s increasing. As you grow older, you grow increasingly self-aware of not just being on the ride but controlling it. Not being a passenger, but being the one steering the wheel and asking yourself, ‘Where do you want to take it?’ It’s just as scary, but it’s exciting. And I think as I’m on these missions, I have a kind of natural internal clock of, ‘Okay, I need to go get this work done. I need to go do this. I need to go spend this,’ while mixing in moments of leisure when appropriate.

RH — Why don’t you want to stop? What are you worried about? Or is it just another genuine natural occurrence inside of you?

ZB — It’s not. It’s like, anxiety. If I stop, what will happen?

CB — One person we should talk about before we forget is your actual blood brother, Elon.

RH — What advice would you give him?

ZB — Because he’s my little brother, I felt like I was always the one that spoke up for him. My biggest thing for him is, ‘Elon, your voice is powerful. Speak up. You have so many great ideas, and you’re good at writing them down.’ But when it comes to asking for things, he never does. That’s probably part of being a little brother—kind of always feeling like you get hand-me-downs, or you get this thing last. I’m like, ‘Yo, Elon, if you want something, ask for it. You want a budget for something? Tell people.’ And also, if you don’t feel comfortable having those conversations, that’s when you should get other people involved, the kind you feel can facilitate those things. I mean, obviously, you should understand all the business aspects of it, but your main job should just be to be an artist, creating music, coming up with ideas. Let me handle getting the money for that. Let me handle how we distribute this, how we put these things out—all those things. And that goes for any artist. You’re an amazing photographer, videographer, multi-hyphenate creative. And for you, you shouldn’t have to have these conversations at a certain point. Of course, you have to build it up and get there. And it takes a lot of hard work and, really, a lot of tough conversations. But at a certain point, if you feel it’s better for you to have someone else that handles that for you, that makes total sense. I know, for me, once I made that jump to kind of putting my own negotiations and stuff in someone else’s hands that I trusted, it changed everything for me.

CB — So how do you manage trust? You even said that when quarantine started, you kind of—or we all kind of—started to see who’s really there for us, who our friends are, what people’s intentions are... So how do you manage?

ZB — Part of the reason, my quote-unquote story—which I don’t feel is some crazy story— but part of the reason that so little information is shared about my life has always been trust. Because it’s not about sharing our experiences with anyone other than ourselves, you know what I mean? It’s only now that we’re talking about these things. But even for years, we were like, ‘Why is he this person?’—there’s no reason for me to explain it because what we’re doing is a human thing. It’s an in-person thing. It’s like you have to experience it. And trust is the number one thing. We’re so lucky to know so many people. But how do you learn to trust someone you’ve never met in person? Kids are doing that. Also, a lot of mistakes come out of very strong emotions, desperation, excitement. And it’s learning to navigate what’s beyond just that initial feeling. Some people call me and be like, ‘I have this crazy deal for you!’ But it’s contingent upon something else, or their intentions are different, or they want you to help them do this, or it’s a favor for a favor... My favors aren’t like that. My favors are just favors. They’re just because I genuinely care and want to help or whatever. Time really is the biggest thing. You get to learn. You have to make mistakes, or you have to learn from people that made mistakes, and you can’t jump into things. I say no to 99.9 percent of things. And probably, some of them, I should say yes to. But I’m so extra careful with my trust and so extra careful in doubling down on what I’m personally doing and what I’m trying to build that... I don’t know. You just gotta figure it out.

CB — Is it the same for you, as time goes on? Because, 10 years from now, think about all the people you’ve met. You probably have the biggest networking catalogue of friends and associates that probably already ask you for favors all the time. Is that stressful for you? And how do you think you’ll be able to manage that?

ZB — It is stressful, and I’m learning the power of no, because if anyone asks me how to do anything, I’ll always try to make it happen. But I’m learning at what expense.

CB — Yeah. Give, give, give.

ZB — Give, give, give. Is it, in terms of the power of no, saving my own personal sanity? Or saving... What if someone wants an introduction to you, and it’s quite possibly a waste of your time? No disrespect, but maybe it’s something you’re not interested in. How do I protect that from even happening? And that just goes back to The Future’s point about integrity and learning to navigate that.

AZ— Absolutely. That concept holds a lot of weight, but just as much hope, speaking as a woman who has been there.

DT— That’s what I’m hoping for, because I know everyone’s situation is different and some are going to obviously be a lot harder. But that’s one of the things—if I could just tell anyone who’s having a really hard time, if you could just hang on. It might take some months, or maybe it’s going to take a few years, but I do think it’ll get better. You’ve just got to find something to hang onto. And it hurts. I’m sure it hurts more for the people who lose loved ones too, who don’t find that hope or something to hold onto and it really is heartbreaking.

CB — And the thing he said was, ‘If you tell someone ‘No,’ they might be mad at you, but they’re going to respect you.’ And a friendship, relationship, whatever it may be, can always be built back up, if there’s a foundation of respect. People have to respect ‘No.’ And we have to normalize ‘No.’ It’s always, ‘How much for a music video? How do we get in touch for a music video?’ And I say, ‘It’s not about the money.’ I always say I just let the world turn. I just let the world turn, and we’ll see what happens. And I think that’s how we have to approach life and everything. We got to enjoy ourselves and our journey, as well. It can’t be give, give, give, because it’s been that for so long. It’s like, okay, now we’re here. Let’s build it into something beyond us.

ZB — I ask for very few favors. Sometimes, I wonder if I should do more, connect more business with people I know. But the answer is, for me, that’s not really the way.

CB — But you do it in such a natural way. You put people in the same room. And if it’s supposed to happen, it’ll happen. Going back to delegation, by the way, one of Virgil’s biggest fortes was finding the right people to get involved. Pedro [Cavaliere] on the music front, his design team, what kids to help. And this is someone who was able to prioritize everything from Louis Vuitton, the biggest luxury company in the world, to designing a t-shirt for the local skate shop. And he actually saw equal importance in all these different things. That’s sort of what made him so great—he could touch all these different touch points across culture, across people’s lives.

ZB — And when he passed a couple of days ago, you start to see this influx of Virgil memories and Virgil posts. And you’re like, ‘Damn. How many fucking people have amazing memories with this guy?’ This is a guy who turned 24 hours into a week. And he would be in 10 places at once. And everyone has a story because he somehow found time for all these people, maybe more so than he even should have. Always giving.

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.