KNACK Magazine #13

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knack magazine / issue thirteen

KNACK is dedicated to showcasing the work of new artists of all mediums and to discussing trends and ideas within art communities. KNACK’s ultimate aim is to connect and inspire emerging artists. We strive to create a place for artists, writers, designers, thinkers, and innovators to collaborate and produce a unique, informative, and unprecedented web-based magazine each month.

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WILL SMITH Co-Founder, Digital Operations ANDREA VACA Co-Founder, Photo Editor, Production Manager, Marketing ARIANA LOMBARDI Executive Editor ARIANNA SULLIVAN Editor JONATHON DUARTE Design Director cover design by PABLO BYRNE spreads by BEA VERRILLO

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KNAC K A RT M AGA ZI N E .CO M KNAC KM AGA ZI N E 1 @ G M AI L .CO M

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ARTIST BIOGR APHIES

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SEBASTIAN JOHNSON

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MAUR ICIO R AMIR EZ

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AR I BR IELLE

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LUK AS WALCZAK

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SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

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SEBASTIAN JOHNSON

MAURICIO RAMIREZ

Sebastian Johnson, 22, is a young filmmaker/photographer from Milwaukee, WI. A recent graduate of Columbia College Chicago, Sebastian is currently living in Boulder, CO, doing freelance cinematography and video producing. In his spare time and whenever he leaves the house, Sebastian shoots 35mm photos with his Pentax Spotmatic SP-II camera.

Mauricio Ramirez is currently an artist in residence at the Lacuna Artist Lofts in Chicago, where he paints with Hebru Brantley’s team and builds interior spaces with Davide Nani. He has been sponsored by Red Bull and Peroni, and has shown in galleries in Springfield and Chicago.

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ARI BRIELLE

LUKAS WALCZAK

I am 19 years old and currently an art student majoring in communication design at the University of North Texas. I grew up an only child and discovered art as my best friend at a very young age. I’ve always loved drawing people, specifically portraits—and even more specifically eyes—which is interesting because my work currently leaves people’s eyes void of value.

My interest in the figure draws me to artists who represent the body and soul in a unique way. I absolutely love Ron Mueck’s hyper-realistic sculptures as well as Gottfried Helnwein’s paintings. I hope to one day achieve the sort of raw realism both men have perfected.

I also tend to make high contrast pieces, which probably stems from my love for that sort of photography, especially in the fashion world. Billy Kidd’s eye is amazing; I always look through his work for inspiration and actually did two pieces based off of his photos. In high school I fell in love with the Surrealist movement, which is reflected in some of my work and many of my works in progress.

Lukas Walczak is a Chicago born writer living in Brooklyn, New York. He studies Politics at the New School University and has worked on student and community organizing in various capacities over the last three years.

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SEBASTIAN JOHNSON P H OT O G R A P H Y

I’m inspired by mystery and story, geometry and light, depth and revelation. This issue features photos from my trip to Dominican Republic to visit family. They are photos of a magical journey back to the source of my identity...

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Holy Ghost

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Rain Road Glow

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Gnarls

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As Above, So Below

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above Beach Smile

Viaje Extendido below

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D’Todo

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Cloud Man

Sun’s Pace

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Chino

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MAURICIO RAMIREZ STU DIO ART

I have been an architect of letters and icons since childhood. Growing up, I had the opportunity to replicate gang symbols or sketches by my older cousins at family gatherings. The urban landscape became my canvas at a young age, but my paints soon found their way onto stretched fabric where ideas were allowed to pool, eddy or flood as my heart desired. My work is a contemplation on copying and a compilation of the forgotten lives of signs. I entangle references to the traditions of “tagging” and “throw-ups” from graffiti culture with sublime colors, familiar figures, and satisfyingly straight lines. You can also see my work on walls and freights throughout the Midwest, and catch my smooth lines on the exteriors of private jets.

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ARI BRIELLE STU DIO ART

I am interested in the human condition. As a young person in college, I am learning a lot about the world. As a child everything is sort of black and white, good or bad, and as you grow up you realize that life isn’t so easy and things are actually much more complex and ambiguous and interesting. I intend to understand our beauties and fallacies as a thread through my work, and portray the world how I see it.

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above: Shot By (original photo by Billy Kidd,) 2013 charcoal and acrylic on 32”x40” mat board

right:

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Sold, 2013 charcoal, acrylic and pen on 32”x32” mat board

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Scream (original photo by Billy Kidd), 2013

charcoal and acrylic on 32�x32� mat board

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opposite page

Analysis, 2013 Charcoal, India ink and acrylic on 30�40� illustration board

Pretty Blue Flowers, 2013 Charcoal, acrylic and flowers on cardboard

this page

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Leave Me, 2013 Charcoal, acrylic and sharpie on 30�x40� illustration board

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LUK AS WALCZAK C R E AT I V E W R I T I N G

New York City has seen its share of social turmoil, from the protests at Zuccotti park, the student movements at Cooper Union, the CUNY Colleges and the New School, to the public outrage over former Mayor Bloomberg’s ‘Stop and Frisk’ policy which has harassed the black and Latino communities throughout the boroughs. Last year, a New York City Human Resources Administration ad campaign, featuring babies crying next to slogans shaming teen mothers, was added to the list. This story was initially inspired by the city’s outrage over these ads, but aimed to portray the daily experience of New York City during these turbulent times.

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2 Cooper Union is old and prestigious University in the East Village that, up until 2013, has not charged tuition.

The change in this policy has sparked student protests culminating in the occupation of the University President’s office and a petition signed by more than half the student body declaring a vote of ‘No Confidence’ in the school’s leadership.

1 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RubBzkZzpUA

Positions Ernesto hopped the turnstiles at the Marcy station. There was no guard booth, but he gave a little wink to one of the black bulb cameras on the sealing at every stop. He would customarily wink at security cameras on the off chance somebody was actually on the other end - just so they’d know he was watching back. By the time the train arrived, he was already two minutes late for his job interview at a publishing firm in the Lower East Side. He thought of sending the guy a text explaining that he’d gotten held up posting bail for his mom, who had recently adopted a ritual of assaulting police officers on Sunday nights - a habit inspired by her go-to cocktail of Wellbutrin, gin and Marcus Garvey - but he wasn’t sure it would help his case. As usual, he looked for a window seat.

The view of the Manhattan skyline, right as the train car reached the crest of the Williamsburg bridge, filled him with a dual sense of ambition and humility, as though he could climb the city like it were a playground, deftly dodging through every moment New York could throw at him; all while knowing that his life and his actions, meant nothing to the millions of people silhouetted in those skyscraper windows.

There was a young woman sitting across from him. She was probably eight months pregnant judging by the amount of exposed stomach between her barbie pink tank top and a ripped pair of skinny jeans. She had a pair of iPhone 5 headphones growing from her cleavage and what was unmistakably Drake1 droning from the buds.

Next to her was a black silicone totebag with the Cooper Union2 logo in the center. She was sitting in front of a poster displaying a crying black infant next to the words “Got a good job? I cost thousands of dollars each year.” Skewed cross the bottom, a yellow banner read, “Think being a teen parent won’t cost you? Expect to spend more than $10,000 a year to raise a child.” Below it was the emblem of the New York City Human Resources Administration, and a text message hotline number for which standard fees may apply.

She was kind of doing that white-girl head bob dance that reminded him of a YouTube video he’d once seen of a drunken pigeon. During one of the up-bobs she caught his eye and shot him a little grin. Ernesto missed a

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“He’ll see you now.”

“Thanks.” Ernesto replied, while noticing that the receptionist’s fitted lime green button-up had one fewer button fastened than before. He walked into the small back office, shook Mr. Marcells hand and apologizes profusely for his tardiness.

“Yeah, they are still working on the train repairs after Sandy3 , and my train got held up at the Marcy stop for about half an hour,” Ernesto lied - banking

3 Hurricane Sandy (October 22, 2012 – October 31, 2012)

beat before smiling back, getting that twinge of insecurity one gets from being caught spacing. She could see it in him, which only made her smile more.

Finally, he bucked up and asked, “Don’t those ads just piss you off?”

She looked surprised, but not unpleased that he had spoken up. While removing just one of her headphones, she slowly turned over her left shoulder to examine the topic of criticism, pausing a moment to make sure she had her thoughts in order before turning back to say, “Yup.” He laughed with a little less than total comfort, having expected more than a one-word response to an ad campaign that was, in his opinion, just the fucking worst. Still smiling she said, “What really bothers me is that they are also closing all these planned parenthoods around the city.”

Ernesto nodded.

“What about you?” She asked. “You got a kid?”

He was kind of taken aback by the question; he was only 20 after all. On second thought, she couldn’t have been much older than him, and asking about the poster was somewhat suggestive. “No, no. Not unless you count my mom,” he said, laughing just a little. “I got enough on my plate with her.”

She paused a minute, then just nodded her head somewhat sympathetically, but Ernesto couldn’t help but notice a hint of resentment towards the comment.

The train slowed to a halt at the station. The MTA’s automaton voice declared from the loudspeaker that they had reached Broadway and Essex.

“Well, good luck with the little one.” Ernesto said, standing up and reaching into his jacket pocket for the crumpled pack of smokes.

“Peace” she said as he walked through the doors.

He gave another wink to the eye on the wall on his way out. He lit up his cigarette and started lazily jogging the five blocks to the publishing office.

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straight up horse shit, respectfully of course

on the likelihood that Marcell lived Uptown, and rarely took the subway to Brooklyn. It was an educated gamble, given Marcell’s old-world demeanor and the gleaming gold tie-clip, that would have got him some trouble if he ever wore it off the JMZ train.

“Its fine, we have been having a slow day so far, anyways... Lets get down to business. Your resumé looks good. I see you were the opinions editor of The New School Free Press for a year, what happened there? Why did you stop?”

“Oh, I had some... philosophical differences with the Editor ‘n’ Chief, and at the end of the day, I had to back them up somehow.”

“How do you mean? What were these ‘philosophical’ differences exactly?”

“Well... Uh, I felt that we had a social responsibility to speak up, and shed light on some of the economic and political issues our school has been having. Particularly our student debt and a lack of student representation on the board of trustees, which has oversight on all of the investments and financial decision made with our ridiculously high tuition.”

“Oh, I see. And the Editor didn’t think so?”

“No. She thought journalism should be neutral, balanced and… nonpartizan so to speak.”

“Do you disagree with that? I ask because this is an important issue in this line of work.”

“Oh, I completely understand.” Ernesto paused for a moment while he decided whether to lie out of his ass (for he desperately needed the work) or, in all glorious stupidity, try to describe to this man why “balanced” journalism was straight up horse shit, respectfully of course.

He broke. “I think there is a difference between being accurate and being balanced. I think it’s pointless, and often harmful to describe an event through the perspectives of two opposing sides with some facetious homage to objectivity, as if both sides have equal basis in reality. Also, just because there two or more sides to an issue does not mean they cancel each other out. And I think it’s irresponsible for the press to portray opinions that are just wrong because they need another side to pass the piece off as objective.” Ernesto’s back tightened with that sickening feeling you get when you realize you may have gone too far.

Mr. Marcell sat back in his chair and took a deep breath before responding, “So let me get this straight, you think journalism should portray a partisan

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perspective, instead of both sides of an issue? A free and balanced press is at the very basis of liberty and is a quintessential part of democracy. As a...” He turned to Ernesto’s resumé once again before finishing, “Uhhh... Oh, yes. As a political science student I’m sure you can understand that.”

Ernesto shot back, “I believe we should convey accurate information in our reports, but spare the public the illusion that both sides of an argument have the same basis in reality. I promise that illusion does not strengthen or facilitate democracy.”

In a sharp tone, Mr. Marcel interjected, “Is it our reports already?!”

Ernesto froze. After a little too long, he finally squeaked out the words, “Excuse me sir, that was out of line.”

Marcell paused a minute before kindly saying, “Please continue. This is has to be one of the most unusual, and perhaps most intriguing, interview I have ever conducted.”

Ernesto was confused, but flattered nonetheless. He bounced his knee to the 1/16 notes in his head while he tried to gather his thoughts. He smiled as he realized he was shaking to the rhythm of the same Drake song the woman on the train had been listening to. Finally he said, “Have you ever seen those teen pregnancy ads on the subway? The ones with the crying babies and the series of degrading facts about the cost of raising a child?”

Marcell nodded.

Ernesto continued, “Well, thats kinda what I’m talking about. Granted, its not quite journalism, but its really the same problem. The City is running these ads that publicly shame teenage girls for being poor and pregnant at the same time - all while cutting funding for Planned Parenthood. They can publicly advertise the virtues of fiscal responsibility, abstinence-only practices and a high school diploma, because of a few “objective statistics,” then blame the seventeen year old girl who was put in her situation by the City’s policies on healthcare, gentrification, and education. What I am trying to say is, that view of objectivity does not at all correlate with any reasonable sense of accuracy.

“Huh... You are certainly something,” Marcell said in a not entirely patronizing tone. “I’m sorry, I have another appointment in three minutes, and despite the subway delays, we try to begin promptly here at Marcell and Co. Thank you for coming in and we’ll be in touch soon.”

i promise that illusion does not strengthen or facilitate democracy

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time

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took a coffee break

Ernesto dragged his feet the last couple blocks to Noble and Angie’s place, still speechless form his chance encounter. He was looking down at his phone, trying to get Noble to let him in, when he approached the classic brownstone steps. Suddenly, the door flew open, and out stumbled a six-foot-something two hundred and fifty pound boy, who, by the looks of him, probably played ball with the best of them. And he was drunk as an irishman had they won their freedom. Ernesto hopped out of the boys way with an agility he hadn’t had to use in a minute. But a clear landing strip wasn’t enough to stabilize the boy, and with a little scuffle, he plunged head first down the brown stone steps. Ernesto dropped to his knee to help the boy up, but could get a hand on him through the boy’s flailing arms. A second later a scream came from the street as a young woman in a barbie pink tank top began to wattle form her car. Ernesto was shocked to realize that this was the same girl he’d met on the train.

She was screaming, “Rodney! Rodney! You son of a bitch! Look at your ratchet ass fallin up and down every thing! I told you, you got to never to pull this shit again! And what the fuck is this shit?! You’re a fucking animal! You are done! You can take your daddy bullshit and get the fuck out of our lives!

Rodney, invigorated by the alcohol and the threat of his soon to be son being taken from him, he hopped up and did perhaps the worst thing imaginable. She hit the pavement like a bodybag. Her forehead was split about three centimeters across, which Ernesto quickly realized, was too small to produced the lake of crimson upon which her body now floated. Her shirt was no longer pink.

“NO! No! no! no. BABY, m’ baby!” Rodney’s screams faded into white noise like the rest of the world would if a bomb went off in your hands. Time took a coffee break. Ernesto slowly backed up the steps as the sirens drew closer. Noble most have called from the window. The strobing red black and blues polluted the Brooklyn night. The voices of the officers were too faint to penetrate the haze of rage Rodney was in; he just kept screaming My BABY! M’ Ba’... When the shots came he fell on top of her, crushing what every hope the child had of survival. At that instant, Ernesto’s phone vibrated on his already trembling thigh. The only thought his head could hold was of his mother. It must be her. Her turn to bale him out. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the shiny black phone to answer.

piece off as objective.

side to pass the

another

opinions that are just wrong because they need

think it’s irresponsible for the press to portray

each other out. and i

they cancel

sides to an issue does not mean

there two or more

also, just because

as if both sides have equal basis in reality.

with some facetious homage to objectivity,

of two opposing sides

through the perspectives

and often harmful to describe an event

i think it’s pointless,

accurate and being balanced.

between being

a difference

i think there is

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PHOTOGRAPHERS, GRAPHIC DESIGNERS & STUDIO ARTISTS Up to 10 high resolution images of your work. All must include pertinent caption information (name, date, medium, year). If there are specifications or preferences concerning the way in which an image is displayed please include them.

WRITERS K NAC K se e ks writing of all kinds . We will eve n conside r re cipes , reviews , and essays (although we do not prefe r any thing that is ac ade mic). We se e k write rs whose work has a distinc t voice , is charac te r drive n , and is subve rsive b ut tastef ul .

We are not inte reste d in fantasy or ge nre f ic tion . Yo u may submit up to 2 5 ,0 0 0 words and as lit tle as on e . We acce pt simultan e ous submissions . N o cove r let te r n e cessar y. All submissions must be 12pt, Tim es N ew Roman , do uble -space d with page numbe rs and include your nam e , e - mail , phon e numbe r, and ge nre .

ALL SUBMISSIONS: KNACK encourages all submitters to include an artist statement with their submission. We believe that your perspective of your work and process is as lucrative as the work itself. This may range from your upbringing and/or education as an artist, what type of work you produce, inspirations, etc. If there are specifications or preferences concerning the way in which an image is displayed please include them. A brief biography including your name, age, current location, and portrait of the artist is also encouraged (no more than 700 words).

*Please title f iles for submission with the name of the piece.

This applies for both writing and visual submissions.

ACCEPTABLE FORMATS IMAGES: PDF, TIFF, or JPEG WRITTEN WORKS: .doc, .docx, and RTF

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EMAIL: KNACKMAGAZINE1@GMAIL.COM SUBJECT: SUBMISSION (PHOTOGRAPHY, STUDIO ART, CREATIVE WRITING, GRAPHIC DESIGN )

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KNACK operates on a rolling submission system. This means that we will consider work from any artist at any time. Our “deadlines� merely serve as a cutoff for each issue of the magazine. Any and all work sent to knackmagazine1@gmail.com will be considered for submission as long as it follows submission guidelines. The day work is sent merely reflects the issue it will be considered for.

Have questions or suggestions? E-mail us. We want to hear your thoughts, comments, and concerns.

Sincerely, Ariana Lombardi, Editor

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ISSUE 16 SUNDAY, December 15th, 2013

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KNACK is requesting material to be reviewed. Reviews extend to any culture-related event that may be happening in the community in which you live. Do you

All review material can be sent

know of an exciting show or ex- to hibition opening? Is there an art

knackmagazine1@gmail.com.

Please send a copy of CDs and

collective in your city that de- films to 321 Tesuque Dr., Unit A, serves some press? Are you a

Santa Fe, NM 87505. If you would

musician, have a band, or are

like

review

material

returned

a filmmaker? Send us your CD, to you include return postage movie, or titles of upcoming re- and packaging. Entries should leases which you’d like to see

contain pertinent details such

reviewed in KNACK. We believe

as

name,

year,

release

date,

that reviews are essential to cre- websites and links (if applicable). ating a dialogue about the arts. If

For community events we ask

something thrills you, we want to

that information be sent up to

know about it and share it with

two months in advance to allow

the KNACK community—no mat- proper time for assignment and ter if you live in the New York or Los Angeles, Montreal or Mexico.

review.

We look forward to seeing and hearing your work.

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