Hace unos años, la artista de origen franco-marroquí Yto Barrada visitó MoMA PS1 en Queens, tras ser invitada a crear una obra específica para el patio del museo. Al llegar, lo primero que captó su atención fueron las paredes. Elevadas y de cemento, le recordaban a las viejas murallas de la ciudad y a la arquitectura brutalista en Tánger, donde pasó su infancia y todavía pasa parte de cada año.
“Cuando pienso en paredes, también pienso en muros simbólicos, en las estructuras de poder”, comparte Barrada en una videollamada desde su estudio en Brooklyn. Concebir una escultura al aire libre y de gran tamaño fue algo nuevo para ella, aunque su práctica interdisciplinaria ha respondido a las estructuras de poder durante más de dos décadas.
Mientras desarrollaba su instalación, un conjunto de enormes bloques de concreto en colores llamativos titulado “Le Grand Soir”, Barrada se dejó llevar por otras influencias que suelen aparecer en su obra: la labor, el juego y las historias culturales. Estas temáticas también están presentes en una exposición individual de obras basadas en fotografía de Barrada en el International Center of Photography, ubicado en el Lower East Side de Manhattan. Aunque diferentes en tamaño y material, y coincidiendo en el tiempo, como un par, “Le Grand Soir” de MoMA PS1 y “Part-Time Abstractionist” de ICP reflejan las diversas maneras en que Barrada estudia las fuerzas sociales que moldean nuestro entorno.
Vista de la instalación de Yto Barrada: Le Grand Soir, mostrada en MoMA PS1.
Ariana DeBose giraba en una zona del Teatro David H. Koch del Lincoln Center, que esa noche acogió la 77ª edición de los Premios Tony. Volviendo a ser la anfitriona de la gala por tercera vez, primero bailarina, luego ganadora del Oscar, se sentía en su elemento en medio del desorden. Eran las 4:30 p.m., unas tres horas antes de su participación, y ese mismo día, The New York Times la había calificado como “la mujer más ocupada de Broadway”.
“No siento que esté haciendo demasiado, simplemente así es para mí”, comentó, luciendo un elaborado vestido de Oscar de la Renta elaborado con piezas de acrílico que semejaban vitrales. Pronto, el salón en el que estaba—un espacio para patrocinadores transformado en speakeasy por Baccarat y Basil Hayden—se volvería el lugar más dinámico de Broadway, proporcionando a los líderes de la industria teatral un breve descanso mientras escapaban de los flashes de la alfombra azul afuera y se preparaban para sus asientos antes del espectáculo.
Otra admirada bailarina en Broadway, Julianne Hough, equilibraba tres batidos de Shake Shack y un Basil 75 (uno de los cócteles temáticos del speakeasy, una adaptación del clásico French 75) mientras se apresuraba a prepararse para sus compromisos como copresentadora del preshow de los Tony. Se cruzó brevemente con el productor y habitual de la alfombra roja Jordan Roth, cuyo atuendo negro y transparente de Rodarte contrastaba notablemente con el vestido liviano y crema de Ermanno Scervino de Hough.
Su apariencia vinosa—inspirada en Dionisio, el dios griego del vino y del teatro—era congruente con los elementos naturales del espacio: flores de ciruelo que se extendían desde el papel tapiz pintado a mano y pavos reales de varios tamaños elegantemente dispersos por todo el lugar. La llegada de Roth a la sala, cerca de las 5:15 p.m., marcó el inicio de la noche, y un flujo de nominados y celebridades comenzaron a entrar justo después de él.
Shaina Taub (Suffs) posaba para fotografías en un traje pantalón color burdeos y un adorno de cabello con forma de rama de olivo—un complemento perfecto e inadvertido del ambiente sombrío del salón—mientras Deirdre O’Connell entraba con modestia detrás de Gayle Rankin de Cabaret, presentándose como “Didi” a quienes no conocían su radical triunfo como mejor actriz de la favorita del centro apenas dos años atrás. Anna Wintour y Bee Carrozzini siguieron a Harvey Fierstein en las animadas festividades, mientras Jeremy Strong permanecía cercano al poderoso dúo Amy Herzog y Sam Gold, cuya adaptación de Un enemigo del pueblo le valdría un trofeo al mejor actor en unas horas más.
Now, I realize what unfolds at the Tony Awards. I’ve been observing them intently for numerous years, at times with companions and themed treats (2022’s “A Strange Fruit Loop,” I’m pointing at you), occasionally at a more official viewing gathering. Periodically, I revisit “Bigger,” Neil Patrick Harris’s exuberant opening piece at the 2013 event, anticipating the familiar rise in my emotions each time he reaches the peak of his rap: “We were that kid.” (Is someone chopping onions here?) Yet, nothing could fully brace me for being present in the room where it occurs (…apologies!) during the 77th Annual Tony Awards on Sunday evening.
Below, I’ve compiled four aspects you probably didn’t notice if you were watching the Tonys from home. We’re live in five…four…three…can I receive some applause, please?
The pre-show (which is actually quite delightful)
Jack O’Brien and Harvey Fierstein at the 77th Annual Tony Awards.
Photo: Getty Images
Certainly, the pre-show can be viewed at home via Pluto TV, yet most individuals only realize to tune into the Tonys for the CBS broadcast at 8 p.m. Hosted by Julianne Hough and Utkarsh Ambudkar, “The Tony Awards: Act One” was a joy, serving as a pleasant shift from the chaos of the red carpet to the live event—and providing much-deserved acknowledgment to the creative and design teams behind each show. Directors George C. Wolfe and Jack O’Brien also won their Special Tony Awards for Lifetime Achievement in the Theatre at that moment, delivering two particularly charming speeches. “Most folks present tonight were dissuaded by their parents, teachers, partners, financial consultants,” O’Brien humorously noted (yet not entirely) about starting a career in theater. “But we couldn’t help it, could we?” The audience adored this.
The oddity of the commercial intervals
A view of the audience during The 77th Annual Tony Awards.
One sweltering summer day recently, photographer Ethan James Green and I sought relief from the heat by heading to the Ukrainian Museum in New York to explore “Peter Hujar: Rialto.” In the peak of a New York City summer, when it seems the temperature is climbing at a frenzy you’re hoping your finances might match, the museum becomes a haven from those sizzling pavements. (It remains so: “Peter Hujar: Rialto” continues through early September.)
Certainly, the primary incentive to pay a visit is to admire Hujar’s astounding art. Various superlatives could be showered upon the Ukrainian-American photographer, who left us in 1987, and he’d merit each. A giant in the world of photography, Hujar could be candid and unadorned but also captured subjects with a gentle and intimate approach—a unique blend of warmth and an unwavering look into humanity.
Hujar earned renown for portraying LGBTQIA+ icons and symbolism, from Candy Darling on Her Death Bed, 1973 to Christopher Street Pier #2 (Crossed Legs), 1976. “His work is something I truly admire, and I believe when it comes to photographers focusing on gay and queer themes, he stands out,” Green shared with me. “During his rise, Robert Mapplethorpe was also emerging—and while Mapplethorpe leaned into abstraction with his subjects, Hujar engaged with them in a raw, authentic manner. I favor that style—especially in portraiture.”
The genius of “Peter Hujar: Rialto,” however, lies in revealing some of Hujar’s work that is significantly lesser-known. The exhibit covers capture from 1955 to 1969—just over a decade but one in which Hujar documented the gradual axial tilt towards a progressive time. Whether in rural America, the eerie Capuchin catacombs of Palermo, amidst urban youth, or alongside future luminaries set to blaze the 1970s—Iggy Pop, Warhol star Jackie Curtis, and Loulou de la Falaise, a collaborator of Yves Saint Laurent, et al.
“Witnessing numerous photographs I haven’t encountered before,” Green remarked that day. “It’s easy to overlook he was a photographer active for a substantial span, producing so much work. When someone departs, certain pictures remain while others might fade—not due to their quality.”
Walter Hill’s 1979 movie The Warriors, adapted from Sol Yurick’s 1965 novel, illustrates a gritty diagram of New York City controlled by fiercely territorial groups.
Warriors, a fresh concept album inspired by the same narrative, launches with a dancehall-flavored intro by Jamaican vocalist Shenseea, succeeded by Bronx native rapper Chris Rivers stepping into the track to represent and introduce his district. This paves the way for the succeeding quartet of voices: Nas (representing Queens), Cam’ron (Manhattan), Ghostface Killah and RZA (Staten Island), and Busta Rhymes (Brooklyn).
Soon after follows an electrifying reminder that this is indeed a theatrical musical production by Lin-Manuel Miranda, as numerous Broadway stars (Phillipa Soo, Amber Gray, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Aneesa Folds, Kenita Miller, Sasha Hutchings, Gizel Jiménez, and Julia Harriman) appear, portraying the gender-reversed namesake gang.
However, the final twist comes when Lauryn Hill takes the stage as Cyrus, a soon-to-be-murdered gang leader advocating for the gangs to cease hostilities and seize control of the city from the police, who they outnumber three to one. While Miranda’s Hamilton Mixtape, released after that musical’s 2015 triumph, included many hip-hop icons, his compositions have never sounded so, well, intense.
Mientras anticipamos la 77ª entrega de los Premios Tony—donde producciones sobre una muchacha de 17 años creciendo en Nueva York de los años 90 y una banda de rock angloamericana grabando un disco en la California de los años 70 lideran el ámbito con 13 candidaturas cada una—en Vogue también estamos tomándonos un momento para mirar atrás.
A lo largo de casi 80 años de historia, los Tonys han producido varios momentos maravillosos, desde actuaciones emocionantes hasta discursos de aceptación conmovedores. No obstante, el encanto no solo ha sucedido en el escenario: Desde su primera edición en 1947, los Premios Antoinette Perry a la Excelencia en el Teatro de Broadway han tenido una manera de cautivar a un público muy emocionante. Ya sea que comenzaron en el teatro o hicieron debuts en Broadway más tarde en sus vidas, figuras como Audrey Hepburn, Lauren Bacall, Julie Andrews, Maggie Smith, Diana Ross, Cher, Susan Sarandon y Sarah Jessica Parker han participado en la diversión de los Tonys—como nominados, presentadores, anfitriones, o simplemente apasionados seguidores del Circuito de Broadway.
Por lo tanto, para celebrar la reciente temporada de Broadway—y todas las que la precedieron—hemos reunido aquí 50 encantadoras fotografías antiguas de los primeros 50 años más o menos de los Premios Tony. ¡Disfruta!
Foto: Getty Images
1/50
1950
Helen Hayes (en el centro) con integrantes del elenco y el equipo creativo de South Pacific: el director Joshua Logan, el actor Myron McCormick, el productor Leland Heyward, el compositor Richard Rodgers, y el letrista Oscar Hammerstein II—en la 4ª entrega de los Premios Tony. (La producción obtuvo 10 Tonys ese año.)
Foto: Getty Images
2/50
1951
Ganadores de los Tony Isabel Bigley (por Guys and Dolls), Tennessee Williams (por The Rose Tattoo) y Uta Hagen (por The Country Girl) en la ceremonia de 1951, celebrada en el hotel Waldorf-Astoria.
Un poco después de las 5 p.m. el pasado jueves, un jurado en Nueva York declaró al ex presidente Donald Trump culpable de 34 delitos graves por falsificar documentos comerciales. Inmediatamente, mi teléfono se llenó de mensajes sobre el veredicto del tribunal—desde aplicaciones de noticias, mi familia, amigos, y compañeros de trabajo. Algunos celebraron. Otros se preguntaron si un veredicto de culpabilidad realmente significaba algo para alguien como Trump. Otros más expresaron preocupación por la seguridad de los miembros del jurado.
Recibí estas alertas mientras me dirigía a ver la producción de la Atlantic Theater Company de The Welkin por la dramaturga Lucy Kirkwood. (Esta puesta en escena marca el debut en Estados Unidos de la obra después de estrenarse en el Teatro Nacional de Londres en 2020.) Dentro del Teatro Linda Gross, ubicado en una iglesia convertida en Chelsea, el elenco estaba calentando antes de su función de las 7 p.m. cuando el gerente de producción entró apresurado para contarles la noticia.
“Hay ciudadanos conscientes y preocupados en nuestro elenco,” dice Sandra Oh, quien aparece en la obra como Lizzy Luke, una obstinada partera. “No hay manera de que no estemos influenciados por todo lo que está sucediendo en el mundo.” Y ciertamente, como muchos asistentes al teatro notaron durante el intermedio, The Welkin resultó ser una proyección muy adecuada mientras se desarrollaba un juicio real.
Haley Wong (Sally Poppy), Sandra Oh (Lizzy Luke), Dale Soules (Sarah Smith), y Ann Harada (Judith Brewer) en The Welkin
“It’s not an overstatement to mention that we’re experiencing the dawn of Joan Jonas,” expressed Randy Kennedy on Monday evening at the National Arts Club. The seasoned arts journalist was accompanied onstage by Jonas, who at 87 is having a significant time in the spotlight, as she is currently at the forefront of two exhibitions in New York: one at the Museum of Modern Art, with a captivating retrospective of her five-decade-long career that started in March, and another featuring her enchanting works on paper at the Drawing Center in SoHo. In addition to prestigious art venues, her creations also adorn graphic tees, mirrored handbags, and fringed clothing from Rachel Comey’s exhilarating spring 2024 lineup.
To those unfamiliar, Jonas is the pioneering American artist who was active in the early stages of happening and video art beginning in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Consistently innovative, she crafted her distinct language using sound, movement, visual emblems, and a continual examination of concepts. She involved folklore, ecology, and a feminist perspective, transitioning from grand performances in unoccupied lots in downtown Manhattan to delicate sketches of cherished animals. She has inspired numerous young artists who, akin to her, strive to challenge artistic conventions and explore fresh paths.
“She operates at this delightful crossroads that genuinely encourages cultural diplomacy,” remarked Phillip Edward Spradley, who leads the National Arts Club’s art and technology committee and who organized Monday evening’s conversation between Jonas and Kennedy.
On a day in the spring of 2017, which was typical in every other aspect, Flora Yukhnovich—a student of fine art, aged 27, lacking a distinct style, noticeable profile, or promising future—ascended the grand marble steps of the Wallace Collection and returned an hour or so later, determined on the artistic vision that would establish her as the leading British painter of her peers. Amidst the Gouthière timepieces and Jean Ducrollay snuffboxes, she encountered Jean-Honoré Fragonard’s The Swing, the iconic French masterpiece that encapsulates the 18th-century rococo movement’s playfulness and flirtation through a captivating trio of characters: a coquette resembling Marie Antoinette, elevated in airy blush-silk skirts; her bewigged, betrayed spouse hidden in the shadows of a picturesque woodland; and her ancien régime admirer, reaching out as she provocatively sends a ballet-pink slipper toward him in the velvet foliage below.
“It seemed like all these elements I had been contemplating converged,” Yukhnovich shares with me today about the 25-by-31-inch art piece that, over the centuries since a libertine French baron ordered it, has been replicated in everything from Disney’s Frozen to a fridge magnet on Etsy. She’s seated on a shaky folding stool in her southeast London studio, her head tilted in a manner that accentuates her own similarity to one of Fragonard’s characters: copper hair, a heart-shaped visage, alabaster skin, and Cupid’s-bow lips. Up until that moment, she explains, her MFA had been spent entertaining her “whimsical interest” in the froufrou through Spode’s Blue Italian porcelain and early 2000s Cath Kidston wallpapers, and feeling somewhat embarrassed about it. (It’s hard to visualize her teenage idols, Lucian Freud and Frank Auerbach, engaging with Sèvres’s elephant-head vases with any serious intent.) But with The Swing etched in her memory, she abruptly “felt the drive”—and started questioning how and why decorative had come to mean inferior, the feminine inevitably equated with the trivial.
Four years on, Tu Vas me Faire Rougir (You’re Going to Make me Blush)—one of three Permanent Rose-coated reimaginations of Fragonard she created for her graduation exhibition—sold at Christie’s for £1,902,000, transforming her, with the fall of a gavel, into a genuine blue-chip artist. Over time, she broadened her focus beyond Fragonard to include other rococo masterpieces—Giovanni Battista Tiepolo’s heavenly allegories, Nicolas Lancret’s bucolic scenes—unveiling the ways in which they had influenced fashionable concepts of the “coded feminine,” both historically and in the present. Consider 2020’s Warm, Wet N’ Wild, which recontextualizes Katy Perry’s maraschino-adorned “California Gurls” video within the lush, bountiful setting of Watteau’s fête galantes. This piece was acquired by a private collector, through Sotheby’s, for £2,697,000 in 2022.
If you are at London’s Victoria & Albert Museum this summer, do not be amazed to spot groups of Swifties, dressed in their Eras tour outfits and adorned with layers of friendship bracelets, dashing through the expansive halls of the South Kensington venue. The explanation? “Taylor Swift: Songbook Trail,” a new complimentary exhibit which showcases 16 of the 14-time Grammy-winning pop sensation’s most iconic outfits—from her music videos, performances, album artwork, red-carpet moments, and all 11 eras—exhibited alongside instruments, accolades, and storyboards from her personal collection, some of which have never been revealed before.
Importantly, this isn’t one of the V&A’s individual exhibitions, but an exhibit with installations sprinkled throughout the entire museum, each presentation opening an intriguing conversation with the building’s design and permanent pieces, guiding guests on an exciting treasure hunt as they pass by Renaissance sculptures, medieval textiles, and 18th-century artworks in pursuit of the next Swiftian artifact. Each of the 13 stops—designed to avoid chronological order, like the Eras tour—boasts appropriately dramatic displays created by Tom Piper, famous for his projects with the Royal Shakespeare Company and surrounding the Tower of London with poppies, while Kate Bailey, the museum’s senior curator for theater and performance, has directed the entire endeavor, planting Easter eggs and ensuring each segment enhances our comprehension of this often-mythical personality.
Though Taylor herself didn’t participate in choosing the displayed items, Bailey mentions her archive was exceptionally accommodating in granting her complete freedom, so much that one of the primary hurdles was narrowing her selections down to just one or two pieces per era. There was also the consideration of timing—assembling the exhibition in merely a few months, so that it could both encompass The Tortured Poets Department era and align with the second phase of the Eras tour in London—and the necessity for collaboration. “This is a project that has actually involved the entire museum,” she reveals. “I’ve been collaborating with colleagues from different departments and engaging curators in various galleries to unlock these historic spaces. And that was challenging because, in many instances, these were initiatives we’d never undertaken before.” Her aim, she expresses, was to construct something that, “like Taylor’s performances, merges spectacle with that sense of closeness.”
The initial stop on the tour exemplifies this. Enter the museum via the grand archway on Cromwell Road, turn left, and ascend two sets of stairs to reach the first era: Lover. Here, you’ll discover the silk Versace shirt and loafers Taylor wore in her self-directed music video for “The Man” in 2020, complemented by the wig and facial hair which transformed her into a wealthy playboy, her director’s chair from the shoot, the best-director VMA she earned for her work, and a continuous loop of the video itself.
