by Saadat Hasan Manto, translated from the Urdu by Matt Reeck and Aftab Ahmad
FEB 2020 | Fiction
This happened eight years ago to the day. My friend Bisheshar Naths wedding party was staying in the upscale marriage hall opposite Hindu Sabha College. There were around three hundred fifty guests who, after listening to the performances of famous prostitutes from Amritsar and Lahore, were sound asleep on the floor or in cots in the sprawling buildings many rooms.
JUL-AUG 2019 | Dance
Since I clasped hands and danced with an elder named Marta during the dance party that ends Zapatografía/Shoegraphy, Ive kept an eye on the choreographer: interdisciplinary artist Larissa Velez-Jackson. On an afternoon threatened by thunderstorms, we sat at a street café and spoke about injury/healing, working-artistry, and her Star Crap Method as components of her past products and ongoing processes.