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Stories by name
Apartamento members have unlimited access to our digital archive! Browse the full range of stories from over a decade of back issues, either by name or issue.
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Text by Estelle Hoy
We’ll try existing another day
[matin] Etsuko stands in seagrass by the porch at 3am, grappling with moody winds that take the day, watching silly waves of caution and anxiety. There are endless harbours and lakes on the fringe of this coastline, infinite children playing with albatrosses and other sea birds, arms extended, small voices in high-pitched caws, and windy…
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Text by Beatrice Domond
William Strobeck
New York: If you’re a skater, you know skating isn’t what a typical video looks like—three minutes of highlights. You go with your friends, you talk a lot of shit, you sit on the curb, and when you get the spark, a trick could take you an hour, four days, or a second. It’s just about…
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Text by Lena Solà Nogué
Wilfredo Prieto
Havana: I met Wilfredo Prieto in March 2014 at the Marais speakeasy, La Candelaria. On that day, Prieto went for dinner after a conversation with the artist Gabriel Orozco, which I transcribed and which was later published in a collection by Mousse. That text would be part of Prieto’s first retrospective catalogue and my first assignment…
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Text by Ruby Neri
Woody de Othello
Oakland: I’m driving to the Bay Area for a number of reasons, one of which is to meet and hang out with the artist Woody De Othello, someone whose work I’ve been following and admiring for some time. Woody lives and works here, though his work seems to be everywhere recently: in Los Angeles, New York,…
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Text by Camille Okhio
Willi Smith
Moving to Lispenard Street Willi Smith purchased one of the few remaining derelict lofts on Lispenard Street in the early ‘80s. A few artists had already taken up residence in the crumbling building, the editor and co-founder of Paper magazine, Kim Hastreiter, being one of them. She was shocked at first when she found out…
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Text by Marco Velardi
Walter Pfeiffer
Zurich: I happened to meet Walter one evening in Zurich by chance, out of pure luck. I don’t even recall the year or if it was spring or fall, but I remember Walter laughing and telling stories. He loved to say beautiful, mixed with Italian and French words. It was photographer and friend Linus Bill who…
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Text by Ari Marcopoulos
When you have to go to Japan stop in Hawaii
I always try to stop in Hawaii before going to japan… It breaks the jet lag before hitting Tokyo in full stride. You have a chance to enjoy the ocean and the beautiful nature of Hawaii. It is the perfect pit stop. I usually go to the island of Kauai. It has beautiful beaches and you…
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Text by Amanda Maxwell
Whole earth
When I was growing up, a lot of my friends lived in communes. It was New Zealand in the 1980s. There were ponies at the communes and the kids ran around in bare-footed packs, raising hell. In summer my mother would trade fish we had caught for bottles of milk in commune kitchens and some…
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Text by Ana Dominguez, Omar Sosa
Wood
Edited by Studio Marina88 We’ve all enjoyed the childish game of making a stack out of seemingly inappropriate materials, and though it might be more for kids, it’s nevertheless a lot of fun. For most of us it’s an occasional pastime, but for Apartamento it’s a duty, involving serious research, lengthy shopping…
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Text by Ramdane Touhami
Welcome to our home
Allowing journalists into your home is never a simple matter. Has it ever happened to you? We’ve actually become specialists on this topic. Once you’ve worked in fashion for quite some time and you always have people over, you generally receive this kind of text, email or voice mail: ‘Hey Ramdane, Victoire. We would like…
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Text by Jacquelyn Thompson
Where we lived
There were no doors in the whole house, so very little privacy. But it worked. There was so much outdoor space that indoors was purely about spending time; living together. Although how that functioned in winter I don’t remember, in my head it was perpetual summer. It was located over a steep bank. At the…
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Text by Claire Frisbie
Waffling
There’s a specific combination of sounds. The sieve shaking over a metal bowl. The quick repetitive beats of a whisk. Dishes in the sink. The cat meowing, then lapping up leftover ingredients. And the smells. Maple syrup heating up on the stove. The stifled sizzle as the batter is poured, and the subsequent wafts of…
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Text by India Salvor Menuez
Whence she came
One of my earliest memories is in the bath. My mother is sitting on the closed toilet with her one year old wedding cake sitting in her lap and I am two. There are flowers moulded out of chocolate decorating the top, she breaks one off and we share it. The bath is at the…
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Text by Jem Goulding
Window pain
I drew the blinds on June When they told me you were in the park With Another. Tempted to hide beneath the ledge And spy out the swings in dark glasses I hibernated instead As the pavement sweat outside In the heat wave I played records inside Danced with bare feet and water in my…