Author: Emmet Byrne
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Email: emmet.byrne@walkerart.org
My Website: http://tasknewsletter.com
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This interview with Minneapolis-based typographer Eric Olson was conducted in July of 2006 and originally published in the Task Newsletter issue #1. We checked in with Eric recently and updated the interview.
Where are you right now, why are you there, and what do you spend your time doing? How is it different than your life in the city?
I'm in a small town 2.5 hours north of Minneapolis named Deerwood. For the longest time I've been questioning the patterns and habits of my work life so when the opportunity for something different came up my partner Nicole and I decided to give it a go. We're moving to England in the fall so we thought our unused family cabin would be a way to test out life in the "sticks." It's really secluded here. You can even hear the trees—something I forgot you could do.
As for city life, it couldn't be more different here. Aside from the obvious stuff like seclusion, lack of interesting food, access to media and a host of others, the biggest change is the total lack of BS in my life. The city has a way of turning tiny annoyances into long term stresses. Like, why the hell was I ever stressed out that my neighbor used to bang his door every night when he came home from work?
How much upkeep does your digital type foundry require to continue running? Could you ignore it for an extended amount of time and it would still be operational? What would happen to it if you ignored it for a year?
I suppose it depends. On some days the upkeep is nothing. The web aspect of the business is set and largely maintenance free. On other days, it seems like customers have lined up to call and ask questions. That said, I bet it could go a few weeks without really pissing anyone off and maybe up to a year without any major maintenance.
Past a year though, it could get shady. Assuming I kept up with the hosting bills, I'd give it two years before the word spread that we'd left town. But forget the reputation stuff. If it could run for ten years I'd have an amazing stack of junk mail with titles like "Cia_lus" and "R olex Store" that would overload our web host and I'd probably develop some sort of withdrawal syndrome. I love the foundry. It's my child so I miss it when I'm away. I feel like we fit well together.
What about "the patterns and habits" of your working life were you questioning?
Well, type design is pretty repetitive so there is always a tendency to fall into work routine habits. I suppose the challenge is to keep producing but stay fresh. Past that though, design (graphic, product etc.) is inherently tied to the location of clients. My work is fairly portable and less tied to regional clients so I thought I would try to work more like a writer. Get out and see things I suppose.
In your daily life, how does typeface design fit in?
It's what I do 10 hours a day. I guess that's not 9 to 5. How does 8 to 6 sound?
Online sales may be relatively maintenance free, but the development of typefaces is altogether a different thing. 90% of my time is spent either developing new typefaces or working on custom typefaces for clients. It's certainly a full time job. Analogous jobs might be writing fiction or family farming. Both are brutally labor intensive, largely solitary, but ultimately very satisfying if everything goes well.
What kind of upkeep on your foundry are you doing now, out in the woods?
As usual, lots. I've got a large sans in the works, a few others on the back burner and then our new website. We're trying to find a way to better display our type through online testers and PDFs while also making the whole system easier to update. In modesty, I must say we haven't found the answer to that yet.
Has your type foundry ever surprised you?
Almost everyday. It's an honor to have people license and use my work so I'm always pretty surprised. I say surprised because right now is a great time to be in the market for type. Within the top tier, the level of quality is devastating. Just stunning. There are some really great typefaces to choose from.
But, easily the best surprise came two years ago from a individual that sent me a series of PDFs showing my typeface Bryant in a branding campaign that he had just completed. It was done, printed, delivered and in use. His question was simple. How much would I charge him for just the six letters and two numbers that he had used? He felt that since the final product came out so smashingly that he should at least throw me a bone and pay for the characters he used from the typeface he stole. I suppose I should have sensed something was up seeing as he repeatedly used the term "bro" in his email to me.
Do you ever design type when you're drunk?
Are they that bad? Kidding! No, I don't drink.
Why and when do you choose to ground your type design in type history? Do you approach these models in terms of improving upon them, mutating them, subverting them …
With regards to Maple, definitely mutating. Maple was both my last hurrah with a historically inspired typeface, and an attempt to push the grotesque model past the edge of reason.
In some ways I have a split personality when it comes to typefaces. Maybe once a week I have a soft spot for something like Maple while the other six days are spent looking forward. The two can coexist, but I'm focusing on the six forward looking days now. If I was an architect I wouldn't spend my time building colonial revival style homes so the same goes for type—most of the time!
Do you have a certain faith in the appropriateness of typefaces in particular situations?
Allow me to be pluralistic and dodgy. It depends on the audience. I have not a shred of evidence other than my own speculation, but I've found that some people are perfectly oblivious while others (like myself) get into a twist over typeface choice.
I can only speak for myself, but since I'm a fan of fiction, it seems necessary for the greater good to point out the phenomenon of moderns (Bodoni, Walbaum etc.) used for setting books. On many levels, the choice makes sense. A new style of writing could benefit from a modern looking face. Fair enough, but the results are maddening. Have you actually read a book set in a modern? I can't do it. Recently, to use a mainstream example, Michael Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay was set in a modern. I only made it halfway through. I should add, only because my sister-in-law claimed it was really good. Otherwise the affair would have never started.
You mentioned how there are some great typefaces out there right now. Are there some type designers out there that interest you?
In America, Cyrus Highsmith is pretty fantastic. He's able to get away with some things formally that I would never give a second thought to.
I guess I'm most interested in designers that are nothing like myself. For this reason, I like calligraphy or writing quit a bit. It's nearly impossible, kind of like Origami.
There are others, but following my criteria for someone unrelated to my tastes, I'd say Fred Smeijers is pretty much without parallel. He'd be my number one.
Do you prefer designing a typeface to meet a specific need, or designing a typeface for general use?
If I had my way, I'd love to do both. Maybe due to the unusually clear criteria, I find custom typeface work really relaxing. When I make typefaces for myself, the entire range of options can be overwhelming and stressful.
Which was the most difficult typeface to design?
I have a new one in development that's an easy shoe in for the most difficult. It's that option problem I mentioned above. I tend to consider all of the "what if" situations. I think if a business manager took a look at my work habits they'd either fire me or quit. I'm always re-doing or re-considering work.
Do you have a typeface you are most happy with the way it turned out?
Stratum. It's funny too because it was very easy to make.
What is your best selling typeface? The worst?
Klavika is a our best seller largely because it can be used for so many different applications. It's pretty extensive too so users can pay attention to the finer typographic details with alternate figure styles and small caps if they like.
The worst is probably Kettler. The market for monospaced fonts is pretty limited.
Have you noticed your faces being used heavily in certain fields, like Stratum in architecture, Bryant in education?
I suppose. Fortunately many of my faces seem to have a niche—which is great. They could also have nothing and I could be a waiter at night! Bryant and Klavika are pretty hard to categorize but through it's use in Metropolis, Stratum has become associated with architecture. Which I love, because outside of typeface design, architecture is my passion.
Your typefaces are omnipresent in the design/art scene in Minneapolis. It seems that everywhere MCAD [Minneapolis College of Art and Design] students go (and you go) they take the faces with them: the Walker Art Center (where you worked), the Design Institute at the University of Minnesota, Intermedia Arts, the Soap Factory . . . Sometimes I see pieces with your typefaces and I know immediately that the designer is from Minneapolis—do you think you have benefited from being entwined with a school and having an influence on the students (where you taught)?
It's hard to measure, but I've certainly benefitted from the association. I wouldn't know which typeface to point to, but I feel like my typefaces have something very Minneapolis about them. To some extent, designers seem to have picked up on it. There's also something very Minneapolis about BluDot but I would be challenged to put a finger on it so maybe I'm imagining things.
As for the MCAD association, the credit has to go to Kindra Murphy. She started using my typefaces very early on and things spread from there. She's a bit of a cult figure with the students so that helps too!
What is your take on the recent press highlighting Minneapolis as The Design City?
You mean the Newsweek article right?
Obviously I think it's great but it's also time for the awareness of Minneapolis design to have some shelf life. Maybe it's a function of the press, but over 100 years later the Walker is often still mentioned as a new museum! That's crazy. Minneapolis has a deep (sometimes whisper quiet) pool of design talent that figures into the national and international design scene. It's ebbed and flowed, but it's always been around. I mean, Ralph Rapson is in his 90s so it didn't start with an addition to a museum.
How do you design your life?
Starting a company was very deliberate and designed on my part. After I left the Walker I knew I wanted to make typefaces full time so I rearranged everything to do it. At first the sacrifices were financial, maybe even a little nuts. I went back to working construction (something I did in college and high school), temping and later teaching so I could fund the enterprise. Fortunately the risks paid off, and now it's all I do.
Further though, I'm always questioning my habits and work patterns. Again, why do I live in the city? How about the sticks for awhile? I'm worried, even scared, about drying up someday, so I'm very conscious of my workspace, music, furniture and even food. Jeez, I sound nuts but I think these things have an effect and can be "designed" for the positive. How many 50 year old graphic designers have you bumped into recently? Probably not as many as you'd like for an industry that's been around for several generations.
:: 2 years pass ::
Since we last spoke you moved to England, released a new face called Seravek, created a customized typeface for the New York Times Magazine (named Sunday), moved back to Minnesota, and started and retired a popular modern architecture blog . . . do you ever yearn for simpler days by the lake in the woods?
Yes, and a shoulder rub too! We've just hired a consultant and a few contractors to help with a project so the simple days are certainly over.
You said earlier that you found designing custom typefaces relaxing due to having specific criteria to work with. Was this the case for Sunday? How did you feel about the idea of combining two of your own faces?
I suppose this was the case with Sunday. It's not so much that two faces were combined, that would be an easy job, but rather the attitude of the two were joined. The typeface was drawn from scratch and refined over time with input from the art directors of the magazine.
Who is Will Steger.
When I was a kid I saw him speak just after he finished the unsupported dogsled trek to the North Pole and was pretty blown away by how raw and humble he was. He and Bob Dylan are Minnesota to me.
Photos: Deerwood, Minnesota, courtesy Eric Olson
The Insights Design Lecture series is back, starting off with Marian Bantjes on Tuesday, March 4, at 7 pm in the Walker cinema. Buy tickets here.
After a decade working as a book designer and typesetter in Vancouver, British Columbia, Marian Bantjes decided to chuck it all and reinvent her practice. Widely hailed in the recent resurgence of ornamentation in graphic design, her current work draws on 20 years of experience in painting and printmaking. Now a self-proclaimed "graphic artist," Bantjes produces designs of intricate craft, elaborate patterning, and complex ornamentation. Her acclaimed work includes commissions for a limited-edition cover for Wallpaper magazine, catalogues and bags for Saks Fifth Avenue, and illustrations for such publications as Yale Alumni magazine, Wired, and Print. She has taught at the Emily Carr Institute in Vancouver and is an author for the design-discussion Web site Speak Up. Check out her website.
To whet your appetite for the lecture, we asked Marian to answer a few of life’s most—and possibly least—pressing questions:
1. What have you been obsessing about?
I’m working on a book and I’ve been obsessing about it from nearly every aspect: what to include, whether anything I’m making is good enough, how much research I should do, whether it will be a work of staggering genius or a laughable and inconsequential attempt. Also about how much work I’m putting into it, and simultaneously how I’m not working on it enough. And finally whether I am wasting my time.
2. What’s your most prized possession?
Hmm. This is hard to say. In one sense it is my house, as it’s what I get my most obvious daily pleasure from, and it’s also my most expensive possession. It is, however, replaceable. So from that perspective, from what I would miss most if my house and everything in it burned to the ground, it would have to be my photos of friends and family.
3. What are you reading?
A number of blogs, ongoing; a number of issues of The New Yorker, ongoing; ditto, Eye Magazine; an issue of Cabinet; plus Debbie Millman’s The Essential Principles of Graphic Design which I have one or two chapters left to read; The Best American Science and Nature Writing, 2007, ed. Richard Preston; and The Sense of Beauty by George Santayana. I am in desperate need of a good novel.
4. What’s one of your guilty pleasures?
Well typically this refers to something that I am embarrassed to admit, and I can’t think of much that I’m embarrassed to admit, except for the things I’m *too* embarrassed to admit. But I do feel genuinely guilty that I really love to sleep. It doesn’t fit with our contemporary work ethic, and given that most of my friends seem to be rushing around, getting lots done on little sleep, I feel guilty that I really like to pack the hours in, in bed. The other thing I really enjoy, guiltily, is doing nothing. Just staring into space.
5. What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Well this is a tough question, so I decided to look up the Classical virtues, as derived from Plato, which would be temperance, prudence, fortitude, justice … and piety. Despite being an obsessive, I think temperance, or moderation is a good thing; Fortitude is also important: a stick-with-it-ness is necessary to get things done; Justice is a no-brainer; Prudence gave me some pause, as we’ve come to equate it with caution, but really it means to show sound judgment, which I actually think is underrated. That leaves Piety as my obvious answer … especially as I am not a religious person and have pretty strong views on that matter which I won’t go into here.
Aside from that interpretation, something which has been bandied about as a desirable trait has been “passion.” I read a wonderful description of passion somewhere as an extremely destructive force, and I have to agree. Passion is the loss of all sensibility, it is the opposite of prudence, and as such I think it is highly overrated, except in matters of sex.
6. What is one of the most unexpected influences on your design?
Probably modernism. You can’t see it, but I know it’s there.
7. What were you doing before you responded to this questionnaire?
I was writing an article for my book, *Silly*!
8. What question do you wish we’d asked you?
If I would like to sign on the dotted line to accept a paid, year-long Artist-in-Residency at The Walker.
And if you want to go ahead and spoil the lecture for yourself, read Ellen Lupton’s heartfelt review of Marian’s talk at the most recent AIGA conference.
Hope to see you on Tuesday!
Here are some screen captures of Daniel Eatock’s performance from last year’s Insights design lecture series. Watch this and other design lectures at the Walker Channel archive.
Enough of that. Let’s talk about the future:
Reinventions: Insights Design Lecture Series 2008
March 4: Marian Bantjes
March 11: Work Worth Doing
March 18: Project Projects
March 25: Ed Fella
Look for mini-interviews with the speakers as we get closer to March.
“A trifle extreme maybe but what is too much today, won’t be enough tomorrow. After all, anything worth doing is worth overdoing, and nothing exceeds like excess.”
I consult this book every morning before I go to work. Modern Fashions by David Buchan, 1979, for the Glenbow Museum in Calgary. To showcase his wardrobe art, David Buchan created these pieces based on Esquire magazine ads from the ’60s. They were also enlarged and used as photo-murals in the exhibition. And here’s a selected timeline of his work.
“Stephanie DeArmond makes ceramic sculpture and installations that combine the honesty of traditional craft and its methods with a sly humor that places her work in a thoroughly contemporary context. Her use of text and illustration betrays an often macabre sense of reality that suggests mundanity may be aggression in disguise.” –Diana Kim. Her current work confuses mediums even further by incorporating typographic forms, in turn blurring the line between traditional vessels, sculptural objects, and even signage. Though she currently lives and works in Arnhem, Holland, she has a special affection for Minneapolis and our local ceramics traditions, having lived here for several years. Visit her website.
January 2008
How did you progress from making more traditional ceramics to working with typography?
When I first began experimenting with typography I was really inspired by the music I was listening to and the bits of text from those songs that really spoke to me, though I wondered if I was just ripping someone off when I put them in my work. There was a piece by an artist at SooVAC where they wrote out all these song lyrics on paper in tiny handwriting and hung it on the wall. I love that piece so much—it was so beautiful and showed how music informs our lives and even defines us and places us into a specific subculture. I think I was trying to talk about those things, too, in my work.
Also, something interesting happens when craft interacts with other creative/pop-cultural forces. Like “beatbox” plus “oil painting”¯ plus “pom poms.” I think about how and why different materials and cultural references get placed into this hi/lo hierarchy. There is a lot of humor in looking at that. Like Clement Greenberg vs Snoop. Not that one is better than the other. I don’t know where Greenberg fits into my work, but I do know where Snoop does. It’s like critics and artists getting obsessed with Project Runway.
You have another series that features somewhat cryptic (though totally literal) fragments of text—cups adorned with Minneapolis street names. How did this idea come about?
That series came about mostly because I liked how they sounded (I had never seen streets that were alphabetized for city planning before) and it was a project about recording my own neighborhood. When I moved to Minneapolis I think I was nostalgic for my life there even while I was living it. And now, years later, I still feel that way. I had a friend from Seattle who was excited when he saw the cups because he had grown up on Colfax in Minneapolis thirty plus years ago; he added his own layer to it. The street names were so familiar to people living there and so foreign to me as a newcomer. Even though it felt strange and different to me, I totally embraced the culture there and it felt like home to me almost immediately. That is why I made the cups with Aldrich, Bryant, Colfax, etc, on them. I hoped other people seeing them got it too and felt like it was a little homage to Minneapolis and the great people living there. I also did some featuring Lyn-Lake with a six pack of beer or Chi-Lake with a gun, but those were more ironic.
When did your use of typography switch from 2D to 3D?
At some point everyone kept telling me to integrate form more with the surface decoration I was working with, and I became interested in how different objects can function as frames, like shelves framing a ceramic object, or a cabinet serving as a frame for a body of work. The ceramic form can serve as a frame also. I started cutting letterforms out of the middle of vessels, then experimenting with how a lid could reference a letterform, and several objects can form a sentence, like the classic diptych or triptych idea. I like a lot of historical painting so that seems obvious as a reference point. I look at drawings I made years ago, and I saw that I also used text a lot in early drawings before I met and married a graphic designer, so maybe our interests converged. Way back then, I was drawn to artists like Jack Pierson and Jenny Holzer and their use of text. So yes, finally I dropped the vessel aspect of the work and made letterforms. I see these pieces as sculptural objects more than signage or being just about language. In fact, I can even imagine them as vessels referencing historical ceramics, because of how they are made, as hand-built hollow objects.
How did you start using the floral decals?
I didn’t like a lot of surfaces that glazes could offer my work—I wanted a clean look that could reference royal china or commercially-made objects instead of granola-type chunky tableware, so a lot of glazes didn’t appeal to me. Some really interesting work was being made by just rejecting glazes (and clay) completely, like Ayumi Horie’s plaster work or maybe John Byrd, who was mixing different materials together. But I wanted to add another element to my surfaces—somehow the decals just resonated with me. I like how they are appropriated and found imagery.
Where do your typographic choices come from?
I am attracted to ornamental type, and I like it most when the type becomes so abstracted and hidden that it almost disappears in the decoration. That has been a big source for me, from illustrated manuscripts that were hand-painted to graffiti references. I always loved how Margaret Kilgallen could reference an old-tyme circus from the 1800s and contemporary street art/tagging at the same time, not to mention creating these iconic female characters that can do anything.
What’s next?
I need to just keep making things and see what happens next. The letters are so time-consuming, and I don’t want them to get too didactic and repetitive, so I just need time to mix it up.
Organized by Steven Hull and Tami Demaree with Annie Buckley and Jon Sueda, Nothing Moments brings together nearly 100 writers, artists, and designers—the result of which being a touring exhibition, a series of readings, and 24 wildly different books. Jon Sueda of Stripe L.A. was asked to coordinate—and more importantly curate—the design phase of the project.
How did you get involved with the Nothing Moments project?
Steven is a Los Angeles based artist. His work is primarily painting, drawing and some sculpture. He’s also known as the mastermind of several large scale projects where he sets up collaborative relationships between artists, writers, and designers. In the past, one graphic designer has realized the final form of these projects. Michael Worthington was the designer of the Ab Ovo and Blind Date books. For Nothing Moments, I think Michael might have foreseen how crazy this project would become and suggested me instead. When Steven asked me to collaborate, he had already been hard at work commissioning the writing of all the stories and passing them on to the artists to create illustrations for each of the 24 books. My job was to be in charge of the design phase.
What originally excited you about the project?
It was the scale. A 24 book collection initially excited me . . . also that I would have the opportunity to curate a group of designers to create the collection of books. I read through all the manuscripts and thought long and hard about who to assign each story and artwork to. I wanted to give the designers content that they all would be excited about and would also fit their sensibilities.
How did you select the designers?
Steven and I initially talked about 5 designers that we thought should be part of the project, mainly people related to CalArts, since we both went to school there. But as I created a wish list for who I wanted to design the other 20 books, I kept thinking about trying to avoid assembling just another list of the usual suspects . . . more established designers who always get approached to do these kinds of projects. Instead I decided to make a list of my contemporaries, younger designers who do really great work, but who aren't household names yet. I’m really happy with the people I selected and the range of work that came out of it.
What were the challenges in executing a project with so many participants?
Project management was a huge issue… something I’ve never really had to do at this scale! I worked on the project for about a year and a half, scanned all the images on the weekends, read all the stories, created a working schedule for all 24 designers, distributed all the work, did the corrections and production, and somehow all the books got printed before the opening!
Do you think that this was a true collaboration between writers, artists, and designers?
I'm not sure “collaboration” is the way to describe this project in the end. Exquisite corpse was another term that doesn’t quite fit either, but has some relationship. . . the idea that each collaborator adds to the piece in sequence relates to that process I suppose. The thing that kept it from being truly "collaborative" was the number of participants… only a few threesomes actually knew each other or were in the same city, so very few groups talked or had discussions. In some ways I think the disconnection was a positive thing and made the project manageable. I think if each designer had to try to satisfy the desires of both an artist and a writer, we'd still be working on the project right now!
How did the gallery experience relate to the book experience?
The exhibition (which is now traveling around the US) was coordinated and designed by Steven and Tami. All the artwork was displayed in the gallery and the books were laid out on tables throughout the space. The event also included a reading where 10 of the authors got behind a mic and read from their books. I think the reading was a very important aspect of the exhibition because it allowed you to experience the writer's interpretation of their story. In a way, the event deconstructed the project. You could experience the author's interpretation of their story during the reading (step 1 of the project), you could view the artwork, the artist’s translation of the story (step 2), and finally hold the designed book in your hand (step 3).
In the end, the project made me feel both empowered as a designer and also a bit depressed. Empowered in that overseeing this massive undertaking made me realize that graphic designers had a lot of power to mold and shape content of this project. Some approached it in very overt ways, others were more subtle. We all know that this is what graphic design does, but following the development of so many projects all at once made it very obvious to me that we have a lot to contribute. On the other hand, we are often the last step in the chain. Not many writers had comments about an artist’s visual response to their stories, nor did many artists critique their manuscripts. However both groups didn't hesitate to offer their opinions about the design. Although the designers were meant to be "equal" participants and given the same freedom, it was hard to transcend the traditional relationships we have with writers and artists. Though I must admit that sometimes these comments ended up making the end result much stronger. For my own sanity I've always thought of the project on a macro level. Of course there are books that I like better than others, but as a collection of 24, I'm extremely happy with the sum of the parts. More than anything it was a very satisfying feeling to work as a big team and accomplish a pretty ambitious project. The process definitely fed my optimism for more independent publishing ventures, something i’m really interested in.
Participating designers: Emily C.M. Anderson, Bob Aufuldish, Caryn Aono, Kyle Blue, Alex DeArmond, Roy Brooks, Emmet Byrne, Linda Byrne, Sean Donahue, Joe Ewart, Katie Hanburger, Geoff Kaplan, Yasmin Khan, Zak Kyes, Willem Henri Lucas, James W. Moore, Penny Pehl, Scott Ponik, Brian Roettinger, Brian Scott, Stuart Smith, Jon Sueda, Michael Thompson, Gail Swanlund, Martin Venezky, Michael Worthington, Scott Zukowski
Participating artists: Edgar Arceneaux, Kelly Barrie, Jesse Benson, Joseph Biel, Ion Birch, Derek Boshier, Andrea Bowers, Kristin Calabrese, Matthew Chambers, Tami Demaree, Harry Dodge, Sean Dower, Tim Ebner, Charles Gaines, Tanya Haden, Isabell Heimerdinger, Steven Hull, Phung Huynh, Glenn Ligon, Jonathan Monk, John Monn, Beatriz Monteavaro, Kaz Oshiro, Hiroki Otsuki, Renee Petropoulos, Jerry Phillips, Gail Pickering, Yuval Pudik, James Pyman, Colin Roberts, Marcos Rosales, Matt Saunders, Thaddeus Strode, Gail Swanlund, Henry Taylor, Dani Tull, Marnie Weber
Participating writers: Aimee Bender, Varina Bleil, Annie Buckley, Sean Dungan, Ben Ehrenreich, Amy Gerstler, Riley Harvill, Marsha Hopkins, Vincent Johnson, Stanya Kahn, Mark Kamine, Jim Krusoe, Rachel Kushner, Thomas Lawson, Simon Leung, Wayne Lindberg, Stewart Lindh, Douglas A. Martin, Marisol Limon Martinez, Tom McCarthy, Jacob Melchi, Claudia Milian, Lee Montgomery, Rheana Rafferty, Nelly Reifler, Pamela August Russell, Jamie Schwartz, Matthew Sharpe, Kevin P. Smith, Christopher Sorrentino, Georgina Starr, Lynne Tillman, James Wagner, Benjamin Weissman, Tony White, Millie Wilson, Mary Woronov, Mary Younakof