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SUB MAG


SUBMISSIONS MAGAZINE ISSUE FIFTY-SIX SEPT/OCT 2014

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Max Bayarsky Box Office Flop

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Sophie Jennis Untitled

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Emily Milano A Soft Squelching Sound Delightful Cardamom

Patrick Gibbons Untitled

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FEATURE This is Where Your Friends Are Words: Beth Rudig Photographs: Otto Ohle

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Justin Goodman My Tinfoil Heart Aurora

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Roberto DeOliveira Untitled

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Skyler Maggiore The In-Between Red

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Julianne Waber Untitled

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Michael Bianco Untitled Cherry Blossom

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Chad Coumbes ATM

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Giovanni Urgelles Revolutionary Road

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Mark Zubrovich Hot Cheeks on Tatooine Sleeping Bag

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Lukas Jennings Relationship

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Maria Battaglia Nightmare

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Michael Joyce Vertigo 1 Won’t U

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Eve Comperiati Untitled

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Brittany Petronella Untitled

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Megan Manowitz Moments of Kindness; or, I laugh when I’m Sad Now I’m Still Capable of Enjoying Company

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Peter Katz Still a Potent Symbol

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Melissa Terrazas Untitled

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Robert Wagoner Sparks in Glowing Tranquility

FRONT Mark Zubrovich BACK

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MAX BAYARSKY


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SOPHIE JENNIS


PATRICK GIBBONS

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MY TINFOIL HEART JUSTIN GOODMAN

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My tinfoil heart, my friend rolled it for me. I was away at the time. It’s not that he felt I was missing or that I needed it. It’s a nervous habit he developed like being sad at people and considering suicide. I’m glad he made it, nonetheless. It was torn like this when I saw it stuck to my magnet board though, distant and loving. It’s the beautiful wings of a lepidopterist’s interest. Plus, when I’m baking I can take off a layer and lay it over the sheet. That’ll make taking off that much easier, And will weigh slightly less on it.


AURORA JUSTIN GOODMAN “The City will follow you.” - Cavafy, “The City” There are no Northern Lights waiting on the cityscape. You know this, but night hasn’t been alive since we buried it where we can most discern it; All gold lies buried: there, nothing gold can stay. I’m not sad for this. When I walk my suburban streets Residue of lamp posts smear the sky dark, pustules vanish. They who love starry nights have never seen emptiness. Humble Obliteration, after the grave robbers, the marked beauty. They have never seen an undead, undying city and its vagrant life. They have seen you, the aurora’s gold lost and absorbed.

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SKYLER MAGGIORE


SKYLER MAGGIORE

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UNTITLED MICHAEL BIANCO If not for distinct tastes, Fear of each other, And worry of sully tongues In pairs we’d lie together In darkened bedrooms With no cease in sight. Some find themselves a moment in that sweet bliss While others sing along with Roger Daltrey a bit too loudly “Let’s get together before we get much older” 9

CHERRY BLOSSOM MICHAEL BIANCO Fainting white on white, Hoping when time elapses and pages age yellow that there’ll be flowers all around pristine and sound


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MARK ZUBROVICH


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MARIA BATTAGLIA


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EVE COMPERIATI


MOMENTS OF KINDNESS; OR, I LAUGH WHEN I’M SAD NOW MEGAN MANOWITZ Everyone is sad

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We touch our bare bellies together when we want to feel close I took pictures of you while you were naked in my bed and you let me I stripped for you on your roof and you filmed it The sun was rising and it was funny


I’M STILL CAPABLE OF ENJOYING COMPANY MEGAN MANOWITZ Things I love about people When they roll around on the floor And eat with their hands The soft air that exists when not touching someone And how some have the mental capability to know when you need to be lightly swaddled in a blanket Or between two arms And placing importance on empty space More so than just filling it all up How someone can be there or not but you can still love them

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MELISSA TERRAZAS

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EMILY MILANO


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EMILY MILANO


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Words by Beth Rudig Photographs by Otto Ohle


THIS IS WHERE YOUR FRIENDS ARE The first week of fall semester is always a bit of a mess. Everyone is simultaneously in their own world yet reacclimatizing (or for freshmen, acclimating) to the insular world of Purchase. The first Friday of this semester I found myself walking over to the Stood around 9:30 to watch Niko Sveikauskas work on his new mural.

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I arrived at the stood and attempted to open the door, but it was locked, as the Stood was not officially open for the semester yet. Niko had to let me inside, turning down the music he had been blasting while working alone while he approached the door. The mural is located towards the back of the stood near main stage, and totally visible from the entrance. As we walk back towards it, I am immediately taken in by how it grabs your attention. It is impossible to not look at it when entering the Stood. It is a simple black wall with white handwritten text reading “THIS IS WHERE YOUR FRIENDS ARE”. The message is clear, the mural is powerful in its simplicity. As I sat down cross legged on main stage, Niko scaled a ladder and returned to work. I watched him nimbly peel off blue painter’s tape from the outlines of the white words, satisfyingly tossing the tape aside near me on the stage. Niko estimated he had been working on the mural for about twelve hours off and on over the past few days, but after contemplating that statement for a second, he concluded it has probably been much longer than that. Niko is a senior mathematics and visual arts student. He has been interested in making a mural for the Stood for some time, and over the summer began talking to Stood coordinator Stephanie Knipe about the possibilities of making one happen this year. Niko explains he was talking on Facebook chat to Steph about ideas for a new text based mural for the coming year. They realized they had many shared artistic influences and interests, along with a shared admiration for each other’s work, and in hindsight, Niko could not remember exactly who came up with the idea or phrase that became the final mural. It was naturally born through these chats. He chose the specific type of handwritten lettering because it has been something he was worked with in his art.


Once the idea had come into being, he had to select where in the stood the mural would go. It seems deliberate and meaningful that it is placed where it is, visible from the entrance and near the main stage, making it a backdrop in photographs of performances taking place on the stage. Niko did not have this specific space in mind when developing the mural, he picked it later on when given the choice of a few different walls. He worked with the visibility of the mural to his advantage, the lettering goes into a corner and wraps around the wall, at one point becoming hard to see from the entrance to the Stood, so he reiterated the lettering on a speaker hanging down in front of the wall, so from a distance the words are still easy to make out. This omnipresence of the text, readable from any vantage point in the building, further imparts upon the viewer that this is a message meant to be seen and believed by everyone. Whether entering the space, playing ping pong, slipping into Whitson’s, or watching a performance on main stage, one is reminded that this is their space as much as it is anyone else’s. A view of the mural may even create a moment of positivity for a night which isn’t going so well. This is where your friends are. Don’t worry. You Are Here, (as an old stood decoration used to proclaim) but you are also welcome here. The textual aspect of the mural recalls artists such as Jenny Holzer, who seems to be the unofficial patron saint of the Stood this year. There is a new board behind the desk displaying a different Holzer Truism every week, as well as other small text based works throughout the space. During the first show in Whitson’s there was a piece of paper taped to the wall behind the band that read ‘REMEMBER THIS MOMENT WHEN THINGS GET HEAVY.’ These reminders of positivity and importance of the space and what goes on in the space give the stood a whole new feeling. They are a specific aesthetic decision that speaks to a deeper movement of inclusivity and community that the Stood is trying to foster. Last year’s Stood coordinator Megan Manowitz brought to task the ‘boys club’ nature of the Stood, introduced the Safer Space policy, redecorated the space, and made a larger effort to get the entire campus more involved instead of the small group of friends who used to run and use the space somewhat insularly. Niko’s mural is a large, unavoidable announcement that this space is for everyone. Whoever you are, whatever you are doing in the building, you are welcome there and the people in this building are your friends. Niko and I discussed our own feelings towards the space while I watched him work. He remarked that it was not until well into last year, with Megan at the helm, that he felt included or incredibly welcome in the space. I agreed with him, I did not until recently really feel like a part of the community. This new

direction has allowed many younger students to get involved with the space and truly fall in love with it. This discussion led us off into talking about how many Purchase students try to leave a personal impact on the school. It is important to a lot of students, and for good reason, because although Purchase is always changing, students tend to be very attached to projects or groups that they were involved with over their time here. Niko mentioned that this mural was an easy way of putting his personal stamp on the school. It is even more than a personal stamp, though, since throughout most of his Purchase career Niko did not feel welcome in a space, and now through this mural he has physically changed that space to make it more welcoming for others. After Niko mentioned this, I found myself thinking a lot about this phenomenon. I realized that without completely acknowledging it, as a senior, myself and many of my friends have been putting concerted effort into leaving some sort of impact before we graduate. Whether it be something physical such as painting a mural or bringing back the food co-op to something more structural like developing new policies in the PSGA. I think this desire to leave one’s mark on this school is fueled by a deep attachment to Purchase culture, maybe done in some sort of hope that the little world they experienced and loved will be as it is for new and future students. As I contemplated this, with Niko’s tape falling through the air nearly missing my head, I felt a connection to Purchase. As much as everyone wants to get out of here, it is important to pause once in a while, while doing work in a deserted warehouse on a Friday night, or even while partying on a Friday night, and acknowledge that this is where your friends are.Your time is limited here at school, your time is limited in any space, and taking advantage of a supportive and positive community is so important. Niko’s mural made me contemplate these things and I can only hope countless people who pass through the Stood and see the mural will meditate upon these thoughts as well. I said goodbye to Niko and walked out of the stood, turning his music back on as loud as it would go before exiting upon his request. As I opened the door, I got a text from a friend; “Are you going to ____’s place? I’m about to head over now.” I smiled and walked off towards my apartment. This is where my friends are; I’ll remember these moments when things get heavy.

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ROBERTO DEOLIVEIRA


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JULIANNE WABER


ATM CHAD COUMBES

Automated teller machine at the moment ass to mouth. Automated transcations in an action or series of actions. Telling from the teller, told at the moment of transacting transactee fee. For the ass to mouth of from the mouth of the ass. A series of automating trans in action. Acting actions act automatically.

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GIOVANNI URGELLES

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RELATIONSHIP LUKAS JENNINGS You are in the same early class as me. I constantly drink ice water to keep myself awake, so when she lets us go for break I am the first one in the bathroom. You step up to the urinal next to me and nod. Sup, I say, which I only say to people I don’t know. You stand far enough back that you are completely visible to me. I have seen your penis before I learn your name. The next week your hand drapes over your desk and lands on my thigh, but you don’t move it, as if somehow you can’t feel the heat emanating from me. You ask if I want to partner up for the group project. I want to ask why you pick me but know you have no reason that’d be comfortable to explain. We meet for coffee and discuss everything not related to the project before we agree to meet again next week. 30

We skip the coffee and meet in your room. There are clothes covering the floor and books covering the desk, so naturally the bed is the only place to sit. I outline the project while you lean against the wall and watch the arc of my back. The next time we are on your bed and my eyes are closing and you say I should stay. With those words as the incantation, I fall asleep against your pillow or your arm, I can’t tell. I can wake up whenever someone says my name, like it was programmed in me—my sisters used to prank me during the night with pre-recorded tapes of my name, over and over and over. In the morning you say my name like you don’t want to hurt me, gently dabbing me with the sound like a cotton ball. While you shower I count how many shirts on the floor I’ve seen you wear before. We create this pattern of me sleeping over, but only before days when we have class so it seems like there’s a reason. You get a new toothbrush for me and that’s when I know we’re happening. You take an absence and I take notes for you. My car breaks down so you drive me to buy chips and shampoo. The first time you hold me is when I pretend I’m too tired to keep working, so you guide my arm to finish the last paragraph, the feeling so

perfect that I never want to erase the wandering lines we leave across the page. By October you’ve met my friends and I’ve met yours. Your best friend tells you I look like an altar boy who wears his dad’s plaid shirts to look older, but she still comes to my birthday party when I invite her. My roommate asks if I don’t like him anymore because I spend every night in your room now. I joke that I might as well drop housing next semester since I can stay with you, but you don’t find that funny. Too soon. You say my name whenever I doze off at night and I tickle your neck in return. We try to find research on the school’s database but make a list of movies to rent instead—this comes in handy when midterms roll around. During class now you touch my legs with purpose. You slip your hand under my shirt and inch closer to my waist until my belt stops you. Dinner is your favorite time because you say I look cute when I eat. I have no idea what that means and your smile fades when I don’t take the compliment. We decide to complete the project by Thanksgiving so we won’t have to worry about it after the break. The night we finish, we play a game to see how loud we can have sex without waking your roommate. My sudden coughing fit ends the game and his sleeping prematurely. I tell my sisters about you over break. I show them your photos and text you to tell you how rugged they think you are. You never reply. At school again, while all of our classmates are frantic over lastminute work, we should be rejoicing at our freedom. You tell me you’re not feeling well. I proofread our project in my room while my roommate talks endlessly, so glad to have some company for a night. This company remains for several When I get up to use the bathroom you sit down and wait for me to come back, as if it’s awkward to go together now. We watch


the last of our movie list during the daytime and part ways after dinner. Before finals week, we submit our project and I pull you into my arms. You don’t even lift a hand. When you say you need a job to fill up your free time, I finally ask what’s wrong. With just a single look, I know we’re not happening. You tell me none of this will matter to us in a year During our final you sit across the room from me. The desks are spread farther than usual. No one’s hand accidentally falls on my leg. When I pass you before winter break, you lock eyes and then look away. You pretend you never knew me, like someone you worked on a group project with once, someone you’re not obligated to talk to anymore. I wonder if we had a relationship or a project. After two years and too many exes, you are at the same late night party as me. I join you sitting on the stoop. Sup, I say. I drink this and you drink that and we listen to the echoes behind us. This time, you come to my room. But I don’t wake up until noon and you are gone and I remember we’re not happening because this time, you didn’t say my name.

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MICHAEL JOYCE


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BRITTANY PETRONELLA

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PETER KATZ


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ROBERT WAGONER


SUBMIT EDITOR-IN-CHIEF BETH RUDIG ART DIRECTOR KRYSTALINA TOM SENIOR EDITORS LUCAS TROMBLEE, ESTEPHANY PAYANO COPY EDITORS AMBER FRASER, PATRICK MITCHELL LAYOUT EDITORS JESSICA DEANGELIS, HANNAH BROWN PUBLIC RELATIONS LINDSEY SIEBER PR INTERN CAROLINE HANDEL COPY INTERNS LOISA FENICHELL, MAX CORTINA LAYOUT INTERNS EMILY ALPERSTEIN, SHARILYN CASTILLO ASSISTANT EDITORS OTTO OHLE, TAYLOR YURCHYK FACULTY SPONSOR STEVE LAMBERT


PFBYM SAF

Profile for Submissions Magazine

ISSUE #56  

SEPTEMBER / OCTOBER 2014

ISSUE #56  

SEPTEMBER / OCTOBER 2014

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