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Kevin Brazil
Kevin Brazil is a writer and critic who lives in London. His writing has appeared in Granta, The White Review, the London Review of Books, the Times Literary Supplement, Art Review, art-agenda, Studio International, and elsewhere. He is writing a book about queer happiness.

Articles Available Online


Interview with Sianne Ngai

Interview

October 2020

Kevin Brazil

Interview

October 2020

Over the past fifteen years, Sianne Ngai has created a taxonomy of the aesthetic features of contemporary capitalism: the emotions it provokes, the judgements...

Essay

Issue No. 28

Fear of a Gay Planet

Kevin Brazil

Essay

Issue No. 28

In Robert Ferro’s 1988 novel Second Son, Mark Valerian suffers from an unnamed illness afflicting gay men, spread by...

1   A mural with a soldier and a worker at its centre Broken tiles on the floor A red star, peeling Angles from the ground, from up high Angles that require crouching and climbing, dirt under fingernails     2   He loves nothing more than a derelict GDR factory, an abandoned asylum An amusement park left to the elements   The weekend comes around and he sets off with his bag of provisions Snacks, a pre-rolled zoot His DSLR with a wide-angle lens, a macro for close-ups     3   I called it ruin porn   That was a mistake   We were sat in a café in Schillerkiez when I said it    First time we’d met    I was flicking through his photos of something abandoned Military hospital? Cement factory?   He grabbed the camera from my hands   Told me, Don’t call it that    I said, What should I call it then?   It’s the thing I love most about this place, about Berlin, he said, eyes fixed on the camera’s LCD screen    The waiter came by, and we watched in silence as he set down our order Two Americanos and a thick slice of mohnkuchen We exchanged dankes and bittes, waited for him to retreat   Aren’t you scared? I asked   Scared of what?   Glass, debris… needles The polizei picking you up?   You go running in Görlitzer park, no?    He paused Looked down at his camera, then back at me, asked: Come with me some time?     4   We got chatting on the app   A late summer evening, Hasenheide park   A sarong for a picnic blanket, a portable speaker on top There was a spliff going round, a bottle of Sekt warmed by the sun   I thought I’d meet him in the bushes once I was tipsy enough But he wanted to chat, exchange pics – not nudes Not just yet   He said he was from Holon, Israel And from the pics that he sent I could tell he was of Yemeni descent   How’d you guess?   Those cheekbones, I typed in response My dad is from Aden Jewish   He’s from Yemen?   From Aden    Haha I thought that was a stereotype    What is?   That the Adenim think that they’re separate    Aden was a country   Was, he replied, with the eye-roll emoji     5   Rollies Negronis Weserstrasse   We met at the bar

Contributor

March 2018

Kevin Brazil

Contributor

March 2018

Kevin Brazil is a writer and critic who lives in London. His writing has appeared in Granta, The White Review, the London...

Interview with Terre Thaemlitz

Interview

March 2018

Kevin Brazil

Interview

March 2018

In the first room of Terre Thaemlitz’s 2017 exhibition ‘INTERSTICES’, at Auto Italia in London, columns of white text ran across one wall. Thaemlitz...

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poetry

September 2011

Nigel

Patrick Langley

poetry

September 2011

Jamie sat alone at the edge of the dance floor and wondered how long it would be until Nigel...

fiction

January 2013

Animalinside

László Krasznahorkai

Max Neumann

TR. Ottilie Mulzet

fiction

January 2013

IV     Every space is too tight for me. I move around, I jump, I fling myself and...

fiction

January 2014

Hagoromo

Paul Griffiths

fiction

January 2014

for the spirit of Jonathan Harvey   There was a fisherman, who lived in a village on a great...

 

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