Jake Nevins

1 week ago | interviewmagazine.com | Jake Nevins

THURSDAY 7:10 PM JUNE 12, 2025 EAST VILLAGEBefore she was a venerated photographer, Marie Tomanova was an au pair in North Carolina with a brilliant idea: she would move to New York City and attend the opening of a Ryan McGinley exhibition completely naked. Whether her objective was seduction or Interior Scroll-type performance was besides the point.

1 week ago | interviewmagazine.com | Jake Nevins

Lyra Pramuk has a high spice tolerance. We’re speaking about food here—she likes dishes that make her nose and eyes water. But it’s not just that; the Berlin-via-Pennsylvania electronic-music producer is drawn towards all manners of intensity. Fountain, her 2020 LP, is both wildly playful and structurally rigid, twisting her vocal cords into a Mobius strip and laying them bare—a capella music without a single voice to speak of.

1 week ago | interviewmagazine.com | Jake Nevins

33 years ago, while dying of HIV/AIDS in his East Village apartment, David Wojnarowicz wrote some of his most searing and explosive work—sketches, essays and livewire prose poems resulting from an embodied sense of longing and anger. Since 1992, the book that contains these pieces, Memories That Smell Like Gasoline, has been out of print.

2 weeks ago | interviewmagazine.com | Jake Nevins

TUESDAY 5:03 PM JUNE 10, 2025 DOWNTOWNOn Tuesday in Lower Manhattan, the rain let up just in time for the city to break a sweat sweat. By 5 p.m., Foley Square was electric—bodies packed tight, drums pounding, chants roarding. The protest, organized by a collection of grassroots organizations including The People’s Forum, was a response to recent immigration crackdowns and the continued presence of ICE in local communities.

2 weeks ago | nymag.com | Jake Nevins

Over the last 20 or so years, tennis fans have been spoiled with at least a dozen marathon Grand Slam finals that qualify for the sport's pantheon. So many, in fact, that it's become strangely customary for Sunday morning championships to stretch well into the afternoon, to feel as though the game, on something like a semi-regular basis, was being pushed to its physical and tactical limits. This, I suppose, is what it's like living in a golden age.