Big Table

In Evelyn McDonnell’s The World According to Joan Didion, readers will find an intimate exploration of the life, craft, and legacy of the revered and influential writer Joan Didion. As a groundbreaking journalist, essayist, novelist, and screenwriter, Didion was a writer’s writer—a keen observer of life’s telling little details. Her insights continue to influence creatives and admirers, encouraging a close observation of the world by unsentimental critics and meticulous stylists. McDonnell is an acclaimed journalist, essayist, and critic herself. A native Californian, feminist, and university professor, she regularly teaches Didion’s work and thus is well able to interpret her legacy for readers today. Inspired by Didion’s own words—from both published and unpublished works—and informed by the people who knew Didion and whose lives she helped shape, The World According to Joan Didion traces the path she carved from Sacramento, Portuguese Bend, Los Angeles, and Malibu to Manhattan, Miami, and Hawaii. McDonnell reveals the world as seen through Didion’s eyes and explores her work in chapters keyed to the singular physical motifs of her writing: Snake. Typewriter. Hotel. Notebook. Girl. Etc. Hat & Beard editor and fellow traveler Vivien Goldman introduced me to McDonnell’s work a decade ago. Being a big Didion head myself, I couldn’t wait to talk to McDonnell about this smart, elegant, and undeniably readable biography—the first published since Joan’s death in December of 2021.

We have a special edition of The Big Table Podcast on today’s episode. Presenting Adaptation, the inaugural event of a new literary salon series and collaboration between USC’s Dornsife Experimental Humanities Lab and Soho House. Adaptation will feature conversations between writers and screenwriters discussing the art of adapting books into TV and film. Up first, the Oscar-winning writer-director Cord Jefferson and the USC distinguished professor and novelist Percival Everett. Jefferson adapted Everett’s novel Erasure into the Oscar-nominated film, American Fiction, which opened in December 2023. Jefferson went on to win the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay a few days after this conversation was recorded. On the episode, Jefferson and Everett discuss the process of taking an experimental and innovative text like Erasure and turning it into something that honors the new form while staying true to the spirit of the original work. This is an initiative of Danzy Senna in collaboration with curator Margot Ross. We thank them both for including us in this incredible new series and for the opportunity to preserve these valuable conversations for posterity. It was a magical night in an intimate room and so we are very glad to be able to share it with a wider audience. MUSIC “I Didn't Know About You” by Thelonious Monk Composed by Bob Russell & Duke Ellington Performed by Thelonious Monk, Charlie Rouse, Larry Gales, Ben Riley

Prudence Peiffer’s first book, The Slip, is the never-before-told story of an obscure little street at the lower tip of Manhattan and the remarkable artists who got their start there. For just over a decade, from 1956 to 1967, a cluster of dilapidated former sail-making warehouses became the quiet epicenter of the art world. Coenties Slip, a dead-end street near the water, was home to a circle of wildly talented artists that included Robert Indiana, Ellsworth Kelly, Agnes Martin, James Rosenquist, Lenore Tawney, Delphine Seyrig, and Jack Youngerman. As friends and inspirations to one another, they created a unique community of unbridled creative expression and experimentation, and the works they made at the Slip would go on to change the course of American art. Peiffer pays homage to these artists and the impact their work had on the direction of late 20th-century art and film. This remarkable biography questions the very concept of a “group” or “movement,” as it spotlights the Slip’s eclectic mix of gender and sexual orientation, abstraction and Pop, experimental film, painting, and sculpture, assemblage and textile works. Despite Coenties Slip’s obscurity, the entire history of Manhattan was inscribed into its cobblestones—it was one of the first streets and central markets of the new colony, built by enslaved people, with revolutionary meetings at the tavern just down Pearl Street; named by Herman Melville in Moby Dick and site of the boom and bust of the city’s maritime industry; and, in the artists’ own time, a development battleground for people like Jane Jacobs and Robert Moses. I caught up with Peiffer, in the Fall of 2023 where she unpacked this group portrait, one of my favorite books of the year. Listen to hear Prudence Peiffer discuss the history of Coenties Slip.

As we prime our book club model for post-COVID growth, we are programming a couple of longer late-summer episodes about our own books via Hat & Beard Press. To support Big Table or Hat & Beard, join our book clubs. You can find out more about them at hatandbeard.com. Your support fuels our books, podcasts, exhibitions, and events, and we thank you. On today’s episode of Big Table, we've recorded a long-form conversation between our own Mandy Kahn and Dana Gioia, both accomplished poets. Masters of traditional lyrical forms and natives of Los Angeles, they are both also currently out with new books: Holy Doors, Mandy’s third collection, is one of the first titles on our Hat & Beard Editions imprint. Meanwhile, Mr. Gioia has published, collected, or translated dozens of books throughout his storied career, which includes a stint as the director of the NEA and poet laureate of California. His most recent collection is Meet Me at the Lighthouse (Graywolf Press, 2023). Both are available now. This episode is more free form, with both poets reading from their work in dialogue with one another as they discuss their craft. Please enjoy Mandy Kahn in conversation with Dana Gioia discussing their new books and a whole lot more.

File Under: Slime by Christopher Michlig — a cultural history of Slime — was recently published by Hat & Beard Editions. What is slime? We are well acquainted with its qualities in conjunction with certain things from which we tend to recoil but to which we are also at times attracted. Despite being everywhere, slime is a surprisingly unexamined cultural phenomenon. File Under: Slime collates a cultural history of “slime” and “sliminess,” with particular emphasis on precedents in pop-culture, contemporary art, ecology, science fiction, literature, critical theory, and cinema. Artist and professor Christopher Michlig’s research characterizes slime as a pervasive, oozing, cultural phenomenon, documenting instances of its evolving representations. The appearance of slime in such films as The Blob, Ghostbusters, and Poltergeist are diligently and humorously analyzed, commercial and graphic design precedents are incorporated, and the work of such artists as Lynda Benglis, Cindy Sherman, Robert Smithson, Sterling Ruby, and Jason Rhoades are discussed. Alongside a multitude of visual references, File Under: Slime is supplemented with literary and theoretical references from such writers as Jean Paul Sartre, Julia Kristeva, Mike Kelley, Rosalind Krauss, Laura Mulvey, and others. +++ SLIME: A NATURAL HISTORY by SUSANNE WEDLICH — a different but like-minded cultural history of slime — was also recently published by Melville House in New York. This groundbreaking, witty, and eloquent exploration of slime will leave you appreciating the nebulous and neglected sticky stuff that covers our world, inside and out. Slime exists at the interfaces of all things: between the organs and layers in our bodies, and between the earth, water, and air in the world, and is often produced in the fatal encounter between predator and prey. In this fascinating, ground-breaking book, Wedlich leads us on a scientific journey through the 3-billion-year history of slime—from the part it played in the evolution of life on this planet to the way it might feature in the post-human future. She also explores the cultural and emotional significance of slime, from its starring role in the horror genre to its subtle influence on Art Nouveau. +++ Susanne Wedlich studied biology and political science in Munich and has worked as a writer in Boston and Singapore. She is currently a freelance science journalist for Der Spiegel and National Geographic. She lives in Munich. Christopher Michlig, meanwhile, makes work in a wide range of media, including collage, printmaking, sculpture, and film. His work has been reviewed and featured in The Los Angeles Times, Mousse Magazine, Saatchi Online, Flavorpill, and New City and exhibited nationally and internationally. Michlig received an MFA from Art Center College of Design, Pasadena, California and he is currently Associate Professor and area Coordinator of Core Studio at the University of Oregon, Eugene. The authors caught up this spring to discuss their books and mutual fascination with slime.

For Big Table episode 51, editors Joshua Glenn & Rob Walker discuss their latest book, Lost Objects: 50 Stories About the Things We Miss and Why They Matter. Is there a “Rosebud” object in your past? A long-vanished thing that lingers in your memory—whether you want it to or not? As much as we may treasure the stuff we own, perhaps just as significant are the objects we have, in one way or another, lost. What is it about these bygone objects? Why do they continue to haunt us long after they’ve vanished from our lives? In Lost Objects, editors Joshua Glenn and Rob Walker have gathered answers to those questions in the form of 50 true stories from a dazzling roster of writers, artists, thinkers, and storytellers, including Lucy Sante, Ben Katchor, Lydia Millet, Neil LaBute, Laura Lippman, Geoff Manaugh, Paola Antonelli, and Margaret Wertheim to name just a few. Each spins a unique narrative that tells a personal tale, and dives into the meaning of objects that remain present to us emotionally, even after they have physically disappeared. While we may never recover this Rosebud, Lost Objects will teach us something new about why it mattered in the first place—and matters still. For the readings this episode, two authors read their essays from the book: First up, Lucy Sante discusses her long lost club chair; and Mandy Keifez recounts her lost Orgone Accumulator. Music by Languis

We are on episode 50! Thank you all for listening along over the last couple of years. This one is special as it features a book published by Hat & Beard Press, one of Big Table’s main partners in cultural pursuits. dublab: Future Roots Radio is the long-awaited book telling the story of the pioneering online radio station through interviews, photos, art, and more. The dublab universe springs to life from these pages, unveiling the ethos that has guided the storied station since 1999. We celebrated the release of the book with a live event at Neuehouse in downtown Los Angeles this past winter. The evening featured a panel moderated by DJ Mamabear with dublab DJs Rachel Day, Hoseh, Frosty, and Langosta. dublab: Future Roots Radio, out now on Hat & Beard Press, is an ode to the boundless power of creative music and community building in Los Angeles and beyond. Here’s an excerpt from the conversation recorded at NeueHouse earlier this year. Music by Pharaohs

To Photograph Is To Learn How To Die: An Essay with Digressions by Tim Carpenter is a book-length essay about photography’s unique ability to ease the ache of human mortality. It’s also a book about photography theory, literary criticism, art history, and philosophy. Drawing on writings and poems by Wallace Stevens, Marilynne Robinson, Vladimir Nabokov, Paul Valery, Virginia Wolff, and other artists, musicians, and thinkers, Brooklyn-based photographer Tim Carpenter argues passionately―in one main essay and a series of lively digressions―that photography is unique among the arts in its capacity for easing the fundamental ache of our mortality; for managing the breach that separates the self from all that is not the self; for enriching one’s sense of freedom and personhood; and for cultivating meaning in an otherwise meaningless reality. Printed in three colors that reflect the various “voices” of the book, the text design, provided by publisher and editor Mike Slack, follows several channels of thought, inviting various approaches to reading. To Photograph Is To Learn How To Die is a unique and instructive contribution to the literature on photography, and is as enthralling as other genre-melding photography books, The Ongoing Moment by Geoff Dyer, Robert Bresson’s Notes on Cinematography, and more recently, Stephen Shore’s book Modern Instances: The Craft of Photography, among others. Carpenter’s research offers both a timely polemic and a timeless resource for those who use a camera. Tim and JC caught up recently to discuss this fascinating book, now in its second printing. Reading by Tim Carpenter Music by Talk Talk

THE INTERVIEW: After 100 books on design, Steven Heller has given us a coming-of-age memoir. The award-winning designer, writer, and former senior art director at the New York Times has included 100 color photographs in Growing Up Underground: A Memoir of Counterculture New York, a 224-page visually inspired tour of the center of New York City’s 1960s and ’70s youth culture. Steven Heller's memoir is not simply a chronological trek through the hills and valleys of his comparatively "normal" life, but rather a tale of growing up, whereby with luck and circumstance, he found himself in curious and remarkable places at critical times during the 1960s and ’70s in New York City. Heller's delightful account of his life between the ages of 16 and 26 depicts his ambitious journey from the very beginning of his illustrious career as a graphic designer, cartoonist, and writer. Follow his path as he moves from stints at the New York Review of Sex, to Screw, and the New York Free Press, on to the East Village Other, Grove Press, and Interview until becoming the youngest art director (and occasional illustrator) for the New York Times Op-Ed page at the of age 23. Having followed his work for years, JC Gabel was glad to sit down and talk with him about his start. THE READING: Heller reads from his Growing Up Underground. Music by Cluster.

It is fitting that Bruce Adams’s new book, the sardonically-titled You’re with Stupid: kranky, Chicago and the Reinvention of Indie Music, begins at Jim’s Grill off Irving Park Road in the Ravenswood neighborhood on the North Side: It was the first place I remember seeing a promotional poster for this new band, The Smashing Pumpkins, who were regular customers of Bill Choi’s Korean-inspired restaurant, when they were first starting out. But let’s back up a few years, to set the scene of what was to come. After attending college at the University of Michigan, in Ann Arbor, in the mid-1980s, Adams worked at a record shop and wrote for the fanzine Your Flesh. He caught the indie rock bug, as it were, inspired by the then burgeoning independent music industry that had grown out of labels like Dischord in Washington, DC, Sub Pop in Seattle, and Touch & Go in Chicago, who presented a more artist-friendly path for bands to make a living selling records, CDs and cassettes Adams found his way to Chicago, where, by the mid-1990s, there was a golden age of independent businesses thriving in unison: records labels (Drag City, Thrill Jockey, Atavistic, Bloodshot, Carrot Top), distributors (Ajax, Cargo, Southern), records shops (Reckless, Dusty Groove, Wax Trax, The Quaker Goes Deaf), underground press (the Chicago Reader and New City, but also Lumpen and Stop Smiling), and venues (Cabaret Metro, Lounge Ax, the Empty Bottle, and Double Door). As Adams documents, it was a near-perfect eco-system for creativity and experimentation in a pre-digital age. You’re with Stupid is both a cultural history of the Chicago music world at that time, as told through the record labels and distributors that Adams worked for but also a how-to roadmap to founding a DIY operation. This is my conversation with Bruce Adams about his book and those times. Reading by Bruce Adams Music by Labradford

Darryl Pinckney arrived at Columbia University in New York City in the early 1970s and had the opportunity to enroll in Elizabeth Hardwick’s creative writing class at Barnard. It changed his life. When the semester was over, he continued to visit her, and he became close to both Hardwick and Barbara Epstein, Hardwick’s best friend, neighbor, and fellow founder of The New York Review of Books. Pinckney was drawn into a New York literary world where he encountered Susan Sontag, Robert Lowell, and Mary McCarthy, among many others. Yet the intellectual and artistic freedom that Pinckney observed on West 67th Street were in conflict with the demands of his politically minded family and their sense of the unavoidable lessons of black history. Pinckney’s education in Hardwick’s orbit took place amidst the cultural movements then sweeping New York. In addition, through his peers and former classmates—Felice Rosser, Jim Jarmusch, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Lucy Sante, Howard Brookner, and Nan Goldin—Pinckney witnessed the coming together of the New Wave scene in the East Village. He experienced the avant-garde life while discovering the sexual freedom brought by gay liberation. It was his time for hope. In Come Back in September: A Literary Education on West 67th Street, Manhattan (FSG, 2022), Pinckney recalls his introduction to New York and to the writing life. The critic and novelist intimately captures this revolutionary, brilliant, and troubled period in American letters. Elizabeth Hardwick was not only his link to the intellectual heart of New York but also a source of continuous support and of inspiration—in the way she worked, her artistry, and in the beauty of her voice. Through his memories of the city and of Hardwick, we see the emergence and evolution of Pinckney as a writer himself. J.C. Gabel talked with Pinckney last fall to discuss his literary beginnings and the influence of Elizabeth Hardwick and her circle on his life and work. Reading by Darryl Pinckney. Music by The Joubert Singers. Remix by Larry Levan.

Known best for her exuberant, often large-scale sculptural works celebrating the abundance and complexity of female desire, imagination, and creativity, Niki de Saint Phalle viewed making art as a ritual, a performance―a process connecting life to art. In this unconventional, illuminated biography, Nicole Rudick, in a kind of collaboration with the artist, has assembled a gorgeous and detailed mosaic of Saint Phalle’s visual and textual works from a trove of paintings, drawings, sketches, and writings—many previously unpublished or long unavailable–that trace her mistakes and successes, her passions and her radical sense of joy. Born in France, Niki de Saint Phalle (1930–2002) was raised in New York and began making art at age 23. Along with her celebrated large-scale projects―including the Stravinsky Fountain at the Centre Pompidou, Golem in Jerusalem, and the Tarot Garden in Tuscany―Saint Phalle also produced writing and works on paper that delve into her own biography: childhood and her break with family, marriage to novelist Harry Mathews, motherhood, a long collaborative relationship with artist Jean Tinguely, and her productive years in Southern California. Nicole Rudick is a critic and an editor. Her writing on art, literature, and comics has been published in The New York Review of Books, the New York Times, The New Yorker, Artforum, and elsewhere. She was managing editor of The Paris Review for nearly a decade. She is the editor, most recently, of a new edition of Gary Panter’s legendary comic Jimbo: Adventures in Paradise. In the interviewer’s chair this episode is writer and curator Yann Perreau, who organized some exhibitions of works by Saint Phalle. Originally from Paris, Yann now lives in Los Angeles. Here’s Yann Perreau discussing the life and work of Saint Phalle with writer, critic, and biographer Nicole Rudick. Reading by Nicole Rudick Music by Grace Jones

For Ingrid Rojas Contreras, magic runs in the family. Raised amid the political turmoil and violence of 1980s and ’90s Colombia, in a house bustling with her mother’s fortune-telling clients, not much surprised her as a child. Her maternal grandfather, Nono, was a renowned curandero–a community healer gifted with what the family called “the secrets”, or the power to talk to the dead, tell the future, treat the sick, and move the clouds. As the first woman to inherit those secrets, Rojas Contreras’ mother was just as powerful. This legacy had always felt like it belonged to them, until, while living in the U.S. in her twenties, Rojas Contreras suffered a head injury that resulted in amnesia. As she regained partial memory, her family told her that this had happened before. Decades ago, her mother had suffered a fall that left her with amnesia too. When she recovered, she had gained access to the secrets. Interweaving family stories more enchanting than those in any novel, as well as resurrected Colombian history and her own deeply personal reckonings with the bounds of reality, Rojas Contreras writes her way through the seemingly incomprehensible. The Man Who Could Move Clouds is a testament to the healing power of storytelling and an invitation to embrace the extraordinary. Here’s my conversation with Ingrid, discussing her new memoir, The Man Who Could Move Clouds (Doubleday, 2022). Reading by Ingrid Rojas Contreras Music composed by Ennio Morricone

The Interview: In the eyes of 18-year-old Hua Hsu, the problem with Ken—his passion for Dave Matthews, Abercrombie & Fitch, and his fraternity—is that he is exactly like everyone else. Ken, whose Japanese American family has been in the United States for generations, is mainstream. For Hua, the son of Taiwanese immigrants, who makes ’zines and haunts Bay Area record shops, Ken represents all that he defines himself in opposition to. The only thing Hua and Ken have in common is that, however they engage with it, American culture doesn’t seem to have a place for either of them. But despite his first impressions, Hua and Ken become friends, a friendship built on late-night conversations over cigarettes, long drives along the California coast, and the successes and humiliations of everyday college life. And then violently, senselessly, Ken is gone, killed in a carjacking, not even three years after the day they first meet. Determined to hold on to his memories—all that was left of one of his closest friends—Hua turned to writing. Stay True (Doubleday, 2022) is the book he’s been working on ever since—for over 20 years by Hua’s estimation. A coming-of-age story that details both the ordinary and extraordinary, Stay True is a bracing memoir about growing up, and about moving through the world in search of meaning and belonging. It is also a book about friendship, race, grieving and recovery. I first came to know Hua’s work through his music writing—first in the hip-hop column he wrote for The Wire, the British experimental music magazine, and more recently, in The New Yorker, where he is a staff writer. Hua teaches at Bard College, and lives in Brooklyn. He grew up in the Bay Area, where most of the book takes place while he is an undergraduate student at the University of California, Berkeley. Hua and I have known each other loosely for many years—we have many mutual friends and are roughly the same age. I’ve always admired his work, and his beautifully written second book is a highpoint, jam-packed as it is with descriptive detail, a light and easy spare prose, and a meaningful account of an unlikely friendship. Here’s my conversation with Hua Hsu, discussing his new memoir, Stay True. The Reading: Hua Hsu reads from Stay True, which was part of an audio zine he made to accompany the book’s release. Music by Mobb Deep

Nick Drnaso, acclaimed author of Sabrina, is back with Acting Class, his third book on Drawn & Quarterly. A tapestry of disconnect, distrust, and manipulation, Acting Class brings together 10 strangers under the tutelage of John Smith, a mysterious and morally questionable leader. The group of social misfits and restless searchers have one thing in common: They are all out of step with their surroundings and desperate for a change. With mounting unease, the class sinks deeper into Smith’s lessons, even as he demands increasing devotion. When the line between real life and imagination begins to blur, the group’s fears and desires are laid bare. Exploring the tension between who we are and how we present, Drnaso cracks open his characters’ masks and takes us through an unsettling American journey. Like Sabrina—the first graphic novel short-listed for the Man Booker Prize—Drnaso’s latest offering is an extremely sharp study of our everyday existence and how we live. His minimalist comic-drawing style is nevertheless awash in a cinematic haze of melancholy and the color palette is hued in a realism that is uniquely his. A friend handed me Sabrina, several years ago, knowing I was somewhat of an outsider in the realm of underground comic culture, telling me, “You will love the book in the same way you love certain novels.” And he was right. While Drnaso is revered all over the world for his bleak honestness and sly, dark humor, he grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. Although we are of different generations, the subtlety of his style is familiar to me as a fellow Midwesterner and Chicagoan. Notably, this is Big Table’s first episode centered around a graphic novel. It’s certainly a change from our focus on nonfiction books, but Drnaso’s storytelling pulls so effortlessly from real life that one feels his characters are meta comics versions of people encountered in our everyday lives. Here's my conversation with Nick Drnaso discussing his new book, Acting Class. Music by Japan

In her latest book, Also a Poet: Frank O’Hara, My Father, and Me (Grove Atlantic, 2022), Ada Calhoun traces her fraught relationship with her father, New Yorker art critic Peter Schjeldahl, and their shared obsession with the poet Frank O’Hara. The book features exclusive material from archival recordings of literary and art world legends, living and dead. Having stumbled upon old cassette tapes of interviews her father had conducted for his never-completed biography of O’Hara, Calhoun set out to finish the book he had started 40 years earlier. As a lifelong O’Hara fan who grew up amid his bohemian cohort in the East Village, she thought the project would be easy, even fun, but the deeper she dove, the more difficult it became: Calhoun had to confront not just O’Hara’s past, but also her father’s and her own. The result is a kaleidoscopic memoir that weaves compelling literary history with the moving, honest, and tender story of a complicated father-daughter bond. In reckoning with her unique heritage, as well as providing new insights into the life of one of our most important poets, Calhoun has offered a brave and hopeful meditation on parents and children, artistic ambition, and the complexities of what we leave behind. For the Reading, Ada Calhoun reads from Also a Poet: Frank O’Hara, My Father, and Me. Music by Ryuichi Sakamoto **Other audio: Frank O’Hara reads Ode to Joy: Frank O'Hara Reads His Poems

In The Design of Childhood, acclaimed writer, architecture critic, and historian Alexandra Lange uncovered the histories of toys, classrooms, and playgrounds. Lange now turns her sharp eye to another subject we thought we knew. Chronicling the invention of the mall by postwar architects and merchants, Lange reveals how the design of these marketplaces played an integral role in their cultural ascent. Meet Me By the Fountain: An Inside History of the Mall (Bloomsbury, 2022) is Lange’s perceptive account of how these shopping centers became strange and rich with contradiction. In it, Lange describes America’s malls as places of freedom and exclusion—but also as places of undeniable community, and rampant consumerism. Few places have been as nostalgized, or as maligned, as shopping malls. Since their birth in the 1950s, they have loomed large as temples of commerce. In their prime, they proved a powerful draw for creative thinkers such as Joan Didion, Ray Bradbury, and George Romero, who understood the mall’s appeal as critics and consumers. Yet today, amid the aftershocks of financial crises and a global pandemic, as well as the rise of online retail, the dystopian husk of an abandoned shopping center has become one of our era’s defining images. Conventional wisdom holds that the mall is dead. But what was the mall, anyway? And have rumors of its demise been greatly exaggerated? Here’s Episode 40: The Big Table conversation with architecture critic, writer, and historian Alexandra Lange, discussing Meet My by the Fountain. Reading by Alexandra Lange Music by OMD

A 170-plus years ago, Henry David Thoreau began his legendary hermit walks in New England. Many of these walks were published later as some of his most cherished works as a naturalist: Walden, The Maine Woods, and Cape Cod. Artist, writer and New England native Ben Shattuck does the same in Six Walks: In the Footsteps of Henry David Thoreau, published by Tin House Books, which charts six journeys taken by Shattuck, each one inspired by a walk once taken by Thoreau. With little more than a loaf of bread, brick of cheese, and a notebook, Shattuck sets out to retrace Thoreau’s path through the Cape’s outer beaches, from the elbow to Provincetown’s fingertip. After the Cape, Shattuck walks down the coastline of his hometown, and then through the Allagash. Along the way, he encounters unexpected characters, landscapes, and stories, seeing for himself the restorative effects that walking can have on a dampened spirit. Shattuck finds himself uncovering new insights about family, love, friendship, and fatherhood, and understanding more deeply the lessons walking can offer through life’s changing seasons. Shattuck splits his time between Los Angeles and Coastal Massachusetts, where he also runs a Davoll’s General Store in Dartmouth. We caught up during the Spring to discuss his first book, Thoreau and the therapeutic nature of walking. Reading by Ben Shattuck Music by Jürgen Müller

To write about Tony Wilson, aka Anthony H. Wilson, is to write about a number of public and private characters and personalities, a clique of unreliable narrators, constantly changing shape and form. At the helm of Factory Records and the Haçienda, Wilson unleashed landmark acts such as Joy Division and New Order into the world as he pursued myriad other creative endeavors, appointing himself a custodian of Manchester’s legacy of innovation and change. To writer, broadcaster and cultural critic Paul Morley he was this and much more: bullshitting hustler, flashy showman, aesthetic adventurer, mean factory boss, self-deprecating chancer, intellectual celebrity, loyal friend, shrewd mentor, insatiable publicity seeker. It was Morley to whom Wilson left a daunting final request: to write this book. From Manchester with Love, then, is the biography of a man who became one with his hometown of Manchester, England—the music he championed and the myths he made, of love and hate, of life and death. In the cultural theatre of Manchester, Tony Wilson broke in and took center-stage. Morley has written about music, art and entertainment since the 1970s. He wrote for the New Musical Express from 1976 to 1983. A founding member of the Art of Noise and a member of staff at the Royal Academy of Music, he collaborated with Grace Jones on her memoirs and is the author of a number of books about music, including The Age of Bowie, his history of classical music A Sound Mind, and a biography of Bob Dylan, You Lose Yourself, You Reappear. Our man in London, Dermot McPartland, fills in for interviewing duties and helps Morley unpack the many minds and lives of Tony Wilson. Here’s Dermot’s conversation with Paul Morley. Reading by Paul Morley Music by Joy Division

Mark Rozzo’s astute and engaging new book Everybody Thought We Were Crazy: Dennis Hopper, Brooke Hayward, and 1906s Los Angeles, published by Ecco Press, documents the lives of Hopper and Hayward in the heyday as New Hollywood’s It couple but also paints a panoramic landscape of the Los Angeles scene in the Sixties. Rozzo poignantly captures the vivacity of the heady days in the early 1960s, just as the underground culture of the Beat Generation was about to explode into the mainstream counterculture of the latter part of the decade—the sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll mantra was born in the late 1960s. Sixties Los Angeles was a new center of gravity in culture; there was a new consciousness, a West Coast symmetry between art, underground cinema, music and civil rights that had never happened before, and has never happened since. Hopper and Hayward were not only up-and-coming actors in the early 1960s, they were also cross-cultural connectors who brought together the best of underground Los Angeles art, music and politics, under one roof—literally—1712 N. Crescent Heights in the Hollywood Hills. This modest Spanish Colonial was the meeting ground, as Rozzo illustrates, for a who’s who of that time: Jane Fonda, Andy Warhol, Joan Didion, Jasper Johns, Tina Turner, Ed Ruscha, The Byrds and the Black Panthers. Their art collection, showcased at this house on Crescent Heights, as well as the house itself, is the backdrop of Everybody Thought We Were Crazy. Rozzo tells the story in a straight-forward, dual narrative, that helps fill in large parts of Brooke’s story, which compared to Hopper’s, hasn’t been as well documented or explored in other books. Rozzo finds the right balance. As a decade-ending benchmark, Hopper’s directorial debut Easy Rider became the emblematic proto-New Hollywood independent film, alongside Haskell Wexler’s Medium Cool. These films help illustrate the promise and loss of that generation and that era. There isn’t a happy ending in those films or in Hopper’s marriage to Hayward, unfortunately—the couple divorced in 1969 just at Easy Rider was about to make cinematic history. After the divorce, Brooke eventually sold the house, broke up the art collection and moved back to New York, where she still resides. Hopper died in 2010. Rozzo’s wide view of Los Angeles in the 1960s is essential reading for anyone interested in the unvarnished history of that period. Here’s my conversation with Mark Rozzo discussing the life and times of Dennis Hopper and Brooke Hayward. Reading by Mark Rozzo. Music by Love.