They used to talk about humans entering a singularity with technology, but before that even existed, Mark Gonzales, aka "The Gonz," was in a singularity with his skateboard. Often by his side, there was Harmony Korine (yes, he of seminal downtown NY films like Kids and modern-day gems like Spring Breakers). And, as the two grew up, they became canon. But, I would never have thought that there would be an academic-style compendium of Gonzales' famous zines.
Fast forward to present day, where Non Stop Poetry: The Zines Of Mark Gonzales, a collection of 165 zines created by the skateboarding-pioneer turned-artist in the heyday of street culture, will debut tonight in a sneak preview of The NY Art Book Fair at MoMA PS1. Admittedly, back in the day, I just thought they were, in the parlance of the times, "rad." But, I realize now that it makes total sense. And it's still rad—there's an introduction by Kim Gordon and interviews from people like Tom Sachs, Aaron Rose, Jocko Weyland, and Korine himself.
There are only 2,000 copies available, so a visit to tonight's book launch is pretty necessary. For those who miss out, read an excerpt from Non Stop Poetry, my Q&A with Korine about his longstanding relationship with Gonzales, exclusive to Opening Ceremony.
MAXWELL WILLIAMS: I wanted to go back to when you met Mark. What was your initial impression of him?
HARMONY KORINE: The first time I really met Mark—I was 15 or 16 years old—I was at a skateboard contest in Georgia called Savannah Slamma, and he was doing backflips in front of the arena. I took a bus with all my friends from Nashville, and that was the first thing I saw as we pulled up to the arena: Mark doing backflips, not even with a skateboard. Just flipping. And then I went up to him and said, "Hello." Then I didn’t actually meet him until I moved up to New York after high school. I was around 18 or 19, and I was in Washington Square Park, and I’ll never forget it. He was riding a longboard, and he was wearing dress socks pulled up really high, and he had a briefcase with artwork falling out of the sides, and he had blood dripping down his kneecaps. I was like, "Holy shit, that’s Gonz." That kind of perfectly encapsulates everything he is.
Sounds like a New Yorker version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which is my impression of the two of you together. When and how did you first start making fanzines?
I was doing them as a freshman in high school in Nashville in the late '80s. I used to order punk-rock fanzines like Forced Exposure. They were pretty lucrative back then, locally. There were all these hardcore zines and skater zines. It was a really lo-fi, low-rent thing. I guess I was probably doing my first ones right out of junior high school. I actually still have some of them. People over the years have kept them, and I’ve got a couple of them. The first one I did was called Yiz Yum. It was mostly drawings—really base, retarded stuff.
How did you start working on zines with Mark?
Fast forward to present day, where Non Stop Poetry: The Zines Of Mark Gonzales, a collection of 165 zines created by the skateboarding-pioneer turned-artist in the heyday of street culture, will debut tonight in a sneak preview of The NY Art Book Fair at MoMA PS1. Admittedly, back in the day, I just thought they were, in the parlance of the times, "rad." But, I realize now that it makes total sense. And it's still rad—there's an introduction by Kim Gordon and interviews from people like Tom Sachs, Aaron Rose, Jocko Weyland, and Korine himself.
There are only 2,000 copies available, so a visit to tonight's book launch is pretty necessary. For those who miss out, read an excerpt from Non Stop Poetry, my Q&A with Korine about his longstanding relationship with Gonzales, exclusive to Opening Ceremony.
MAXWELL WILLIAMS: I wanted to go back to when you met Mark. What was your initial impression of him?
HARMONY KORINE: The first time I really met Mark—I was 15 or 16 years old—I was at a skateboard contest in Georgia called Savannah Slamma, and he was doing backflips in front of the arena. I took a bus with all my friends from Nashville, and that was the first thing I saw as we pulled up to the arena: Mark doing backflips, not even with a skateboard. Just flipping. And then I went up to him and said, "Hello." Then I didn’t actually meet him until I moved up to New York after high school. I was around 18 or 19, and I was in Washington Square Park, and I’ll never forget it. He was riding a longboard, and he was wearing dress socks pulled up really high, and he had a briefcase with artwork falling out of the sides, and he had blood dripping down his kneecaps. I was like, "Holy shit, that’s Gonz." That kind of perfectly encapsulates everything he is.
Sounds like a New Yorker version of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which is my impression of the two of you together. When and how did you first start making fanzines?
I was doing them as a freshman in high school in Nashville in the late '80s. I used to order punk-rock fanzines like Forced Exposure. They were pretty lucrative back then, locally. There were all these hardcore zines and skater zines. It was a really lo-fi, low-rent thing. I guess I was probably doing my first ones right out of junior high school. I actually still have some of them. People over the years have kept them, and I’ve got a couple of them. The first one I did was called Yiz Yum. It was mostly drawings—really base, retarded stuff.
How did you start working on zines with Mark?
Mark and I became really close. It was right around the time I moved out of my grandma’s basement. He was one of my best friends in the world, and he kind of moved in when I had my first apartment on Prince Street in the early '90s. Mark lived with me on and off for a lot of that time. With the zines: that’s what Mark was doing, that’s what I’d been doing, and we