WITH THE SEASON of spring approaching as I write this editor’s letter, we’re celebrating our 70th issue at Local Wolves! It still boggles my mind that we’re still in this together with LW’s 13th anniversary this April. This issue is all about the visionaries– who continue to exceed in what they do, whether it’s their love for music, passion for photography to appreciation for all things in the publishing world. When our editorial writer, Uma, sent over a pitch regarding NYC based powerhouse band, Chanpan– I watched their music video for “Election Year” and I immediately was like ‘where, when, how can we get them on the cover for this spring issue!’ Their overall message as a group is so unique and you honestly just want to learn more about them, which you can on page 60. This issue is jam packed with incredible artists and bands from overseas, we’re so lucky to feature in our Visionary issue from Luvcat, Hunter Metts to The Vices. This issue brought me so much joy to curate with my team. I couldn’t ask for a better way to kick off the new season with a new issue!
Cathrine Khom
PHOTOGRAPHY BY KELLIE CHEN
ISSUE 70 — CHANPAN
SPRING 2025
FOUNDER & EDITOR-IN-CHIEF
Cathrine Khom
COPY EDITOR
Sophia Khom
DESIGNERS
Lisa Lok, Yoolim Moon
SOCIAL MEDIA COORDINATORS
Jessica Spiers, Tatiana Diaz de Leon
CONTRIBUTING WRITERS
Alexis Marion, Ang Cruz, Arielle Nikita Lai, Eden Schwinghamer, Hyning Gan, Lisa Lok, Mun AM, Rebecca Judd, Yoko Zhu
CONTRIBUTING PHOTOGRAPHERS
Ana Oquendo, Canan Atik, Colin Webber, Dasha Semyonova, Dillon Matthew, Dylan Tabirara, Eden Schwinghamer, Harleen Mander, Hyning Gan, Justina Brandt, Luke Sewell, Lydia Robinson, Mackenzie Ryan, Michelle Castillo, Yuna Jo
WOLFIE SUBMISSIONS: Amanda Perlin, Becca-Willow Moss, Elaine Simon, Elie Pichanick, Jonathan Elyea, Juri Kim, Katja de Bourbon, Mariam Hovsepyan, Marita Musser, Megan Karbowski, Micah Angela, Lindsay Sunada & Jensen Vinca of scout
MANY THANKS
2B Entertainment, AWAL, Clementine Morel, First One Up, Grace Yang, Ha Vay, Hunter Metts, Hyning Ga, Impulse Artists, Karlita Sutela, Luvcat, Over The Moon Management, Peak Label, The Vices
FEATURING
Chanpan
THEME
Visionary
COVER PHOTO
Dillon Matthew
COVER DESIGN
Lisa Lok
LOGO
Lisa Lok, Fiona Yeung
CONTACT
General: info@localwolves.com
Press: press@localwolves.com
Advertising: advertising@localwolves.com
Get Involved: community@localwolves.com
LET'S CONNECT
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ON THE COVER CHANPAN
PHOTOGRAPHER
Chanpan
Uma Snow
Dillon Matthew
Kellie Chen
Dillon Matthew
Karlita Sutela
BY LISA LOK
PHOTOGRAPHY BY COLIN WEBBER
As someone who’s lived on the east coast for decades, I’m always enamored with the idea of spending the winter months in a warmer climate. After the excitement of the holiday season is over and the bitter nights of the new year seem endless, I begin to crave the warm summer sun.
Fortunately my past self predicted this annual frustration, and booked a mid-January trip to Arizona. Part of my time was spent attending 8123 Fest (a two-day concert extravaganza hosted by The Maine) but most importantly I evaded the 15 degree days in New York.
I was determined to make the most of this respite by spending as much time outdoors as possible. As soon as we got checked in at the Grand Hyatt Scottsdale, we hit the pool which had a volleyball net up. We quickly realized we are definitely not aquatic athletes as evidenced by how difficult it is to ‘run’ in a pool but it was a delight to take in the views over Sonoran Desert in the distance. While the nights out here still get a bit chilly, it’s nothing a cozy seat by the fire pit can’t solve. Particularly after a delicious meal onsite at Tiki Taka where you can enjoy flavorful fusion plates like the Chorizo Gyoza and Lion’s Mane Yakitori, or indulge in the house-made pastas at La Zozzona. (The Honeynut Squash Agnolotti was my favorite.)
The festival took place at the Mesa Amphitheater, an outdoor venue in the heart of downtown Mesa. With afterparties at The Nile Theater and a popup shop close by, it was a great way to explore the area. I loved walking the Main Street stretch and exploring the local restaurants. Following my senses to places like Tacos Chiwas and Worth Takeaway, dining al fresco every chance we got. Scoping out some hidden gems and souvenirs at local boutiques, to fill the empty spaces in our luggage.
Another contrast to city life that I can’t get enough of are the sweeping views that go on for miles. The Desert Botanical Gardens is a great place to explore the ecosystems of the southwest while taking in the topography. Just a two hour drive north of Scottsdale you’ll find the majestic red rocks of Sedona (and yes you can literally feel a difference in the energy over there). Two more hours north gets you to the Grand Canyon which you could spend a few days at and still not see the entire thing. While it’s arguably the most famous destination in Arizona, my favorite sights were found elsewhere in Page at Antelope Canyon (part of Navajo Nation) which, as you may have guessed by now, took another few hours on the road. The cascading curves and rich purple waves running through the bright orange sediment is truly something behold with your own eyes and well worth the trip.
Our last day was spent back wandering Old Town Scottsdale. We enjoyed a sweet treat at the iconic Sugar Bowl which felt like time-traveling back to the 50s. Any fans of the show Riverdale and the nostalgic feel of Pop’s Diner should definitely check it out. Before our red-eye flight home, we needed one last scenic evening and caught the sunset at Hole-in-the-Rock. Here in the desert among friends and strangers all embracing the same simple pleasure, I felt at home.
WOLFIE SUBMISSIONS VISIONARY
JURI KIM / LOS ANGELES, CA, USA
Photography by Juri Kim
Creative Direction — Juri Kim & Autumn Stallia
Lighting Assistants — Garrett Lam & Jonah Krause
Hair & Makeup — Bella Barki
Styling — Angie Ho
Styling Assistant — Jimin Hong
Model — Autumn Stallia
Who are the next? In this issue, we’re featuring a new wave of boundary-breaking visionaries: photographers, filmmakers, artists, models, and writers around the world who are bringing fresh, exciting perspectives. Here, we introduce the new tastemakers, culture shapers, and community leaders defining the now.
It's time to share who inspires you and there’s no need to gatekeep! Whether they’re from the creative industries including photography, filmmaking, music, fashion, writers and many more, we want to hear all about it. Inspiration can be found from anywhere, and as we bloom into the spring season, share your fresh take on who's on your radar!
MARITA MUSSER / CHARLOTTE, NC, USA
Photography by Jonathan Elyea
Creative Director & Model — Marita Musser
ELIE PICHANICK / PHILADELPHIA, PA, USA
Photography, Creative Direction & Model — Elie Pichanick
BECCA-WILLOW MOSS / MANHATTAN, NY, USA
Cardboard Cake Mix
Photography by Amanda Perlin, Becca-Willow Moss, Katja de Bourbon, Mariam Hovsepyan, Micah Angela
Director, Model & Styling — Becca-Willow Moss
Hair, Makeup & Grooming — Mariam Hovsepyan
Production Design — Micah Angela
Production Design Assistant — Amanda Perlin
In this fictional short created for ‘Haku the Label’, a fashion designer reflects on the fleetingness of inspiration. This film captures the sensation of chasing after something that’s right in front of you, but remains just out of reach, like the moon's reflection on the surface of water.
It was inspired by our own constant pursuit of art, finding meaning in self expression, and moving forward while still remembering where we came from. What made this even more special was all the amazing people who helped us bring it to life. We shot around the island of Oahu with a skeleton crew of close friends, and even got to feature the park where Jensen grew up climbing trees as a kid. All the wardrobe was thrifted or designed and created by the wonderful Lexi Kim, with custom jewelry made by our friend Genevieve Cipriano! It was such a creative and fulfilling project and we can't say thank you enough to our whole cast and crew.
LINDSAY SUNADA / HONOLULU, HI, USA
Photography by
Elaine Simon & Megan Karbowski
Film Directors —
Lindsay Sunada & Jensen Vinca of scout
Cinematography — Griffin Voth
Visual Effects — Joey Sperber
Hair & Makeup — Anastasia Sherba
Styling — Elaine Simon
Costume Designer — Lexi Kim
Jewelry Designer — Genevieve Cipriano
Words —
Lindsay Sunada & Jensen Vinca of scout
Models —
Alyssa Mattler, Jordan Vallesteros, Justin Kurihara, Keawe Parker, Mika Ohata, Taylor Kondo
BY ARIELLE NIKITA LAI
PHOTOGRAPHY BY LYDIA ROBINSON
Some artists exist purely in the moment—flickering like neon signs, burning fast and bright. But LUVCAT lingers. She is both presence and apparition, someone who moves through the world like a half-remembered dream. Her voice drifts through the screen before she does, a soft echo over the hum of connection. It feels less like a Zoom call and more like slipping into a scene already in progress—Parisian twilight spilling through an unseen window, shadows cast at angles too deliberate to be accidental, and a softness.
“I like to think there’s no separation between Luvcat and me. It’s just me having fun with different sides of who I am,” she says, and in that single line, the layers of her artistry unfold. This world she’s crafted, one foot in the glamorous haze of old cinema, the other rooted in the raw edges of something far less polished, is more than just a performance. It’s an invitation into the inner workings of a mind that revels in contradictions—elegant, yet untamed; enigmatic, yet entirely real.
Her music is not just a collection of sounds; it is a finely tuned exploration of all that she is. Every element—every grain of sound—is as intentional as the silence between the notes. “I think the details are really important,” she reflects, her voice a soft, steady current beneath her words. She speaks with a quiet reverence for the craft, as though the space between the notes is just as sacred as the ones that fill the air.
And yet, there’s a knowingness in her tone when she reveals, “I’m very protective of the way I present myself.” There is power in that protection, a delicate dance between transparency and mystery. In her world, nothing is left to chance. Every whisper, every flutter of sound, is a carefully constructed message—a piece of herself that she’s choosing to share in that moment. It’s in this juxtaposition, this slow reveal of the parts that make her whole, that Luvcat’s allure truly thrives.
In an era where oversharing has become the norm, Luvcat’s desire to maintain some enigma makes her all the more captivating. Her music, her persona, and her lyrics come together in an intricate dance of what is revealed and what is left unseen.
When asked about her new track, “Love and Money,” Luvcat smiles, if only in the warmth of her voice. The song captures the reckless abandon of youth—the "endless night" that stretches into days filled with passionate, naïve love. “It’s about falling in love in London,” she says, her words tinged with nostalgia. The music video for the track, filmed on a camcorder in her old haunts, adds to the dream-like atmosphere. “It’s about that feeling when you meet someone and just don’t sleep,” she explains. “It feels like it lasts a whole weekend.”
Though “Love and Money” represents a departure from her previous darker tracks, Luvcat doesn’t seem troubled by the contrast. “It wasn’t on purpose,” she admits. “But, looking back, it’s nice to have a lighter moment.” The emotional complexity of her music is part of its allure. From the gothic, romantic themes of her earlier tracks to the exuberant optimism of this new song, Luvcat shows there is always more than meets the eye.
Her musical and literary influences are many—Leonard Cohen, Sylvia Plath, Tom Waits, Radiohead, Lou Reed, and Édith Piaf—but one constant thread runs through them all like an invisible string, entangling itself around Luvcat’s music to the point of no return: the desire to explore love’s complexities. Love, with all its beauty, its wreckage, its aftertaste, it seeps into every note she sings and every word she writes.
"Love always comes up when I sit at the piano," she reveals. For Luvcat, her songs are both personal and universal, informed by the myriad feelings that accompany love, loneliness, and everything in between. Her songs, like old letters, seem to speak of lives lived in fleeting moments. "I write down lines and ideas that pop into my head," she says. "Some songs might take years to finish, and some are completed in a night." Each note, each word, finds its way to her like an old lover, unbidden but welcomed.
When Luvcat steps onto the stage, she becomes an entirely different presence—a magnet that pulls you in with a magnetic, unspoken gravity. “I’ve recently been lying on top of the piano, which is fun,” she admits, the casualness in her voice belying the deep significance of the act. Onstage, she is both performer and creator, embodying the song while simultaneously transforming into it. It’s not about the theatrics themselves—it’s about the way she uses them to reveal the parts of her soul that would otherwise remain hidden.
Like a piece of armour, she does not suggest that what you see onstage is not a façade, but a carefully constructed shield—a way to show you the truth while keeping it wrapped in layers of intrigue. She moves, she sings, she creates a space where the audience is invited to witness her, but never fully touch her. There’s a delicious tension between distance and intimacy, a fragile boundary she crosses with every performance.
“It’s the idea of revealing parts of yourself gradually,” she muses, as if to say that even the most intimate parts of her are on display only on her terms. To be in her presence—onstage or in conversation—is to know that she is both near and impossibly far, an enigma wrapped in velvet and neon.
The visual world Luvcat creates mirrors her music—an intoxicating blend of sensuality and darkness. "I wanted to be a vampire when I was younger," she says with a laugh, the memory threading itself into the atmosphere like a forgotten dream. Her aesthetic is both gothic and glamorous, a siren call to those who understand that beauty can thrive in shadow. “I love gothic bands, I love vampire films,” she reveals, as if admitting to a secret passion for the things that linger on the edge of light.
There’s something ineffable about Luvcat. She’s the kind of artist who seems to exist outside of time, a walking contradiction of Parisian decadence and underground grit, old Hollywood glamour tangled with a street poet’s sharp edge. When she steps into the room—lips stained red, lace gloves half undone—it’s as if the air itself changes. People lean in closer, trying to decipher where the performance ends and the person begins. But the truth is, with Luvcat, the lines blur.
Her style, much like her music, is an extension of herself—unpredictable and ever-evolving. “I like wearing whatever feels right for the show,” she offers, but there’s more to it than that. The clothes she chooses aren’t just fabric—they are a deliberate extension of the character she’s playing in that moment. From the borrowed pieces from her mother’s closet to the last-minute decisions, every outfit is a brushstroke in her ongoing self-portrait, a visual narrative that shifts with each performance.
As the conversation winds down, there’s a palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air. Luvcat speaks of her upcoming album with the quiet thrill of someone on the verge of something monumental. “We’re working on an album,” she hints, her voice dipped in mystery. “The vibes will be similar to what we’ve done,” she teases, “but we’re definitely going to take it further on the LP.” It’s the kind of promise that lingers, that leaves you wondering what this next chapter in her evolution will bring. Whatever it is, it is certain to be a masterpiece, something to be savoured slowly, like the last, lingering note of a haunting melody.
The call lingers a little longer than expected, the conversation stretching in the way good ones do. When the connection finally breaks, the silence that follows feels almost too sharp—like stepping out of a dream too soon.
And perhaps, that’s the secret of Luvcat. She leaves you wondering whether you ever really met her at all—or if she was just a voice on the other end of the line, vanishing into the night.
Grace Yang
BY YOKO ZHU
PHOTOGRAPHY BY HARLEEN MANDER
GRACE YANG founded Jardin Zine in July of last year. Yang had grown up reading, following in her father’s footsteps. She was raised on Magic Tree House, Percy Jackson, and Harry Potter-core childhood classics, which later shifted into a penchant for Irish literature. For Yang, reading was a method of understanding, a way to stabilize her life. Spurning her fondness for literature, Yang created a multimedia, youth-led magazine, featuring flash fiction, poetry, and various written pieces. Jardin Zine was born from the idea of cultivation. Jardin, meaning garden in French, was a zine that aimed to foster a “garden of creativity” no matter where contributors were in their lives, either seedlings of ideas or fully grown plants. Simultaneously, ‘garden’ acted as a nickname for Yang’s hometown of Newton (the garden city).
“[Jardin] is also just about giving people the opportunities that I wanted when I first started looking into publishing my work,” Yang said.
Yang expressed difficulty in establishing oneself as a writer if there were no publications to your name. This parallels the paradoxical sentiment of applying to an entry-level job for the experience, but having no experience to be accepted. This, she stated, was why she’d her zine to encompass more people and offer more possibilities to be featured.
Yang, had seen an Instagram reel about the re-emergence of print magazines, especially youth-led lit mags with a focus on the voices of younger people and also minority groups, communities of color, and queer people. She desired to add to this movement, to recreate the presence that print used to have in people’s lives.
Through the second issue, Jardin’s theme TAKE A BITE interprets “themes of desire and all the forms it takes: remorse, reminiscing, hoping, and so forth.” It’s a theme that’s centered, but not restricted to, longing. The theme is an excavation into regrets in the past, or the desires we hold so, so closely in the future (dangling like a carrot in front of our horse faces). The submissions will be reviewed by the Jardin team, which consists of volunteers.
“Whenever I'm reviewing submissions, it’s amazing being able to see other people's work,” Yang said. “I feel like a common experience when it comes to writing is that you're so isolated in what you're doing–at least for me, when I first started writing more seriously I was very sensitive to like criticism and–it's so cool that people are putting their work out there and giving my zine a chance.”
"[Jardin] is also just about giving people the opportunities that
I wanted when I first started looking into publishing my work."
Rootbound
WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY BY EDEN SCHWINGHAMER MODEL — MADELEINE NICHOLSON
I have had the profound privilege of working with Madeleine from the beginning of my time as a working photographer. Her honesty as a subject, her attention and care as a collaborator, and her warmth as a friend is deeply treasured to me. This is my loving ode to a genius friend, and a close collaborator. May we work together for years to come.
This work unfolds our parallel journeys into adulthood, and our struggles with mental health, the psychiatric system, and difficult homes. We worked collaboratively and with care to package our stories in an outdoor, expansive space that opens up before the viewer. From moments of intense grief and reckoning to quiet acceptance, Madeleine allowed me to chart her growth with unwavering honesty and unflappable courage. I am eternally grateful.
HA VAY
BY MUN AM
PHOTOGRAPHY BY YUNA JO
PHOTO ASSISTANTS — ALIA BECKER & EMILY ORESTE
Northern California born HA VAY is known for her ethereal music and free-spirited nature, which is evident in her craft. The indie pop artist discusses with us about her visual inspirations and growth in her upcoming album And Fate Plucks My Eyelash, Inevitable As The Dawn. Paying homage to her personal experiences and strength in emotional fragility through music, without a doubt, she’s an artist you should keep on your radar.
CAN YOU RUN THROUGH WITH ME ON THE SIGNIFICANCE AND STORY BEHIND YOUR STAGE NAME HA VAY?
My grandmother named me. It’s my family’s dialect that’s close to Cantonese. “Ha” means summer because I was born on the summer solstice. “Vay” is an idiom that means something along the lines of the most remarkable, the most intelligent or beautiful, something along those lines. It’s quite a long story, honestly.
I HEARD THAT YOU'RE CURRENTLY WORKING ON YOUR NEW ALBUM AND FATE PLUCKS MY EYELASH, INEVITABLE AS THE DAWN AND IT'S A REFLECTION ON FATE AND LETTING GO, CAN YOU WALK WITH ME THROUGH THE ALBUM JOURNEY SO FAR?
I consider it a time capsule of the past year of my life, which has been something of a wild ride. This time has taught me quite a bit about fear and surrender in the face of love, loss, grief, a neardeath experience, and the ever-tumultuous state of the world. The writing is essentially done, but it’s been a bit of a challenge to lock down the funding I need to record it. So that’s where it’s at currently.
YOU'RE ALSO RELEASING YOUR SINGLE “BLUSH,” WHICH IS A TAKE ON FORBIDDEN LOVE. HOW DID YOU LAND ON THE DECISION TO PICK “BLUSH” AS A SINGLE? WOULD YOU SAY IT'S THE OPENING FOR THE ALBUM'S CONCEPT?
I would say it’s more like a soft introduction into the project. There is a love story that serves as the connecting thread through much of the album, which adds a certain softness and lightness to balance some of the heavier themes in the writing. This song encapsulates that well: soft, with a hint of fear.
YOUR SONGS, WITHOUT A DOUBT, HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A CATALYST FOR VULNERABILITY AND YOU'VE DONE AN INCREDIBLE JOB ENCAPSULATING TONES OF STRENGTH IN FRAGILITY. WHAT SPARKS THE SONGWRITING FOR THOSE FEELINGS?
I think that honestly just encompasses a lot of who I am as a person. I’ve been seen as a delicate sort of thing all my life, but I know I can endure just about anything. I’ve got a very strong foundation as a person, but many people don’t see it because I present softly and quietly most of the time.
SOME ARTISTS SAY THE SONGS THEY LISTEN TO ON THE DAILY DIFFER FROM THE KIND OF MUSIC THEY MAKE, I'M CURIOUS TO KNOW IF YOU RELATE TO THIS SAYING TOO? HAS THAT IMPACTED THE ALBUM WRITING?
Above all, I seek out artistry in the music I listen to. I don’t go out discovering a lot of new music, I don’t listen to curated playlists. I love to dive into albums or discographies of artists who put a lot of care and intention into their music, no matter the genre. So my listening habits are a bit all over the place, genre-wise.
YOU RELEASED YOUR DEBUT ALBUM BABY I'M THE WOLF LAST YEAR AND I'M SURE IT WAS A PARAMOUNT EXPERIENCE, WHAT WAS THE ALBUM PROCESS LIKE IN COMPARISON TO THE NEW ALBUM AND HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW, MONTHS LATER?
Making my debut album was largely a chaotic and underfunded process. I’m so happy with the result, but I often say I feel as though I wrote it under duress. I’m taking my time with the new album, crafting it slowly and carefully with more intention than ever. I’m hoping that will shine through in the final product. That being said, producing Baby I’m The Wolf feels like quite a feat, especially looking back on it now. It was created by such a small team with very few resources and extreme dedication and for that, I’m forever grateful.
YOU'VE MENTIONED THAT VISUALS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN AT THE FOREFRONT FOR YOU. CAN WE TALK ABOUT YOUR VISUAL INSPIRATIONS AND WHAT WE CAN LOOK FORWARD TO FOR AND FATE PLUCKS MY EYELASH, INEVITABLE AS THE DAWN? I’ve been in the research and experimentation phase for a while now. You can find threads woven into photos I’ve posted in the past several months, but there’s much more to come. I want to be well-researched on the genres I’ll be pulling from. Expect to see me paying homage to classic aesthetics at the intersection of fear, romance, and the supernatural.
THIS ISSUE’S THEME IS VISIONARY, ARE THERE ANY NEW EXCITING IDEAS YOU WOULD LIKE TO INCORPORATE INTO YOUR JOURNEY AS AN ARTIST? GENRE RELATED OR EVEN MUSIC VIDEO CONCEPTS?
I have my eye on a few classic films I want to pay homage to in videos. Some cult classics, and some unexpected choices, too. I’ve also been wandering into a lot of small screenings of various surrealist short films that I’m drawing inspiration from. I love to weave a great big tapestry of far-reaching inspirations that don’t seem like they would fit together, that’s how you wind up with something really new and “visionary” in my opinion.
CARRYING ON FROM THAT, WHAT DO YOU THINK WAS THE HARDEST BOUNDARY-BREAKING DECISION YOU'VE HAD TO MAKE AS AN ARTIST?
I’ve been dead-set from the start on exclusively making full concept albums. The music industry today is geared toward single releases, which perform better on social media. But I’ve chosen a bit of a lonely path for a small independent artist in taking the time and resources to make albums. Producing a 45-minute full visual album movie for my debut was a bit of a wild move as well. I poured my entire marketing budget into that instead of traditional marketing avenues like running ads. At the end of the day, I’m doing this because I love it. I would rather starve while I create the things I want, than live comfortably making creative concessions.
TO FINISH OFF, WHAT DO YOU WISH FOR YOUR AUDIENCE TO TAKE FROM THE UPCOMING ALBUM?
I never set out with something specific to say when I write but instead, ask questions and see where I wind up. I want to push myself to learn and grow as a person through the process of creating. I treated the writing of this album as a documentation of a little experiment to see what would happen if I completely changed my mindset and the way I’d be living. It’s been an incredibly transformative and freeing experience, and I hope the energy I’ve been able to tap into through this process will be translated to the listeners and be a sense of comfort for them.
Attheendoftheday,
becauseI’mdoingthisIloveit.
PHOTOGRAPHY BY CANAN ATIK
TYPOGRAPHY — NATHANIEL ASHLOCK
DOODLES — HYUNJOONG KWON
CANO
CHANPAN: AN INTERSECTION OF ACTIVISM AND ART
BY UMA SNOW
PHOTOGRAPHY & CREATIVE DIRECTION BY DILLON MATTHEW
BTS PHOTOGRAPHY — KELLIE CHEN
STYLING — KARLITA SUTELA
When we say that we envision a better world and we're making music for it, we really mean it.
This sentiment is the driving force behind CHANPAN , an Asian-American band made up of vocalist Grace Dumdaw and twin instrumentalists, Lance and Matthew Tran. The trio released their first single in 2023, after months of busking in the streets of New York City’s Chinatown. It was a banger of a debut—“jungle” is chaotic and catchy, blending together jazz, punk, and garage. Since then, Chanpan has continued to put out genre-bending, eclectic music like “air ride” and “election year.” What sets Chanpan apart in the world of music, though, is their passion for community work and fervent advocacy.
Last year, the band went on their first tour as an opener for Japanese artist Haru Nemuri. Woven into the tour schedule across six cities were Chanpan’s Town Halls—events that partnered with community organizations and supported local business and grassroots organizing. I had the pleasure of going to their Dallas event, hosted by Chimlanh, a small Vietnamese coffee shop. Chanpan gave each organization in attendance a platform to find solidarity in their causes, expand their community, and speak about their work. The band also performed a short acoustic
MATTHEW: Blazer: House of Sunny Trousers: Simkhai
Jewelry: The Great Frog
LANCE: Fur Coat: Victoria Marchev Jersey: Shorts: Luxenburg Jewelry: The Great Frog
GRACE:
Corset: Ángel Ladino Trousers: Loro Piani
MATTHEW:
Blazer:
GRACE:
LANCE:
Denim Vest: Marc Jacobs
Thrifted
Denim Pants: Luxenburg
Jewelry: The Great Frog
Dress: Clear to Rain
Leather Jacket: Error NYC
Pants: RTA
Accessories: The Great Frog
MATTHEW:
LANCE: Denim: John Elliot Shirt: Thrifted
Undershirt: Proenza Schouler
Skirt/Pants: Error NYC
Jewelry: The GreatFrog
Denim Jacket: Luxenburg Vest: Thrifted
Jeans: Luxenburg
Jewelry: The Great Frog
GRACE: Sweater: American Vintage
Denim: Error NYC
Accessories: The GreatFrog
set, intimate and sweet. The safe, cozy feeling of community was heartwarming in the cool autumn evening.
“The motivation for those things was to bring our audience and whoever comes to our shows closer to their community,” Grace tells me over a Zoom call. “We don’t want our music to be empty. . . . When we say that we envision a better world and we’re making music for it, we really mean it. I think it was important for us to demonstrate that off our first tour and set a precedent for the future.”
Matthew says that the band wants to make sure that their actions and themselves as people stay aligned with their art and message.
“The three of us have done a lot of work for our communities since we were little. . . . I am still an organizer at heart.”
All three members have a long history with community organizing. Matthew has worked with The Center for Popular Democracy for a few years now. Grace consistently advocates to raise awareness of the civil unrest faced by ethnic minorities worldwide, particularly for the Kachin people of northern Myanmar, where they were born. Lance worked on Bernie Sanders’ social media during his 2020 presidential campaign—amusingly, Lance is one of the fourteen people Sanders follows on TikTok. For Chanpan, merging this part of their lives with their music was only natural.
“When I think about what's important to me in this lifetime, it's not making the most money or even being the biggest artist I could be. . . . What matters to me is whether I've made an impact and made the world a better place.” Lance says that part of the reason Matthew, Grace, and himself work so well as a band is because of this shared conviction. “I think us being will -
ing to engage with contradictions and discomforts and wanting to do things a bit differently is what has guided a lot of [our decisions].”
As their audience grows, Chanpan is determined to not waste their platform. “Artists just telling you to go vote is probably the most milquetoast and bare minimum thing that you could possibly do with a huge, massive platform and multi-million dollar machine,” says Lance. “If you're thinking about political change and making the world ‘a better place,’ plugging people into local organizations . . . is the fastest, most efficient way to move the needle on whatever it is you care about.”
When the band was on tour, Matthew shares, the three of them kept coming back to activist Mariame Kaba’s words, “Hope is a discipline.” Fighting to maintain hope in this political climate—to not let yourself feel jaded, helpless— that is the crux of Chanpan’s most recent single, “election year.” Sonically, the song is fun: Grace’s voice is soft and groovy, the instruments are smooth and upbeat. But the lyrics themselves are angry and decisive.
The first verse opens with the words, “same problem but different day / I lost all my motivation,” and ends with, “the man speaks and I obey / in an empire that can’t recover.” Grace poured all of their frustration into writing the song: frustration at the election, its candidates, the ongoing genocide in Gaza, and, during all that, having to clock into their corporate job where they felt devoid of personality. Voiceless. “It was just brutal, waking up [everyday] feeling like the world is going to shit.”
Matthew and Lance helped inject some hope into an otherwise depressing song. They put forward the question: “Instead of making it a song about giving up, how do we make this
“I THINK US BEING WILLING TO ENGAGE WITH CONTRADICTIONS AND DISCOMFORTS AND
WANTING TO DO THINGS A BIT DIFFERENTLY IS WHAT HAS GUIDED A LOT OF [OUR DECISIONS].”
LANCE:
Denim: John Elliot
Shirt: Thrifted
Undershirt:
Proenza Schouler
Skirt/Pants: Error NYC
Jewelry: The GreatFrog
MATTHEW:
Denim Jacket:
Luxenburg
Vest: Thrifted
Jeans: Luxenburg
Jewelry: The Great Frog
GRACE:
Sweater: American Vintage
Denim: Error NYC
Accessories: The GreatFrog
song, and the campaign around promoting the song, bring people together and give hope for the future?” The chorus reflects this shift in tone, the assertion that we as individuals have agency. Repeats of “fuck what the government say / Imma do me anyway” fill the chorus. The reiteration feels like an affirmation. It feels like a promise, to ourselves and our community, that together we have power.
In the short time that Chanpan has been around, they’ve accumulated a dedicated following. “I'm grateful for each moment,” says Matthew. He reminisces about the band’s first tour, which brought so many other firsts with it, like people bringing them gifts or “coming to two different shows on the same tour just to see [them].” It’s a surreal feeling for an artist to see in person, for the first time, the love people have for their music. “You never really get used to it,” Grace tells me. “When people are in front of you singing [your] words back to you, that came from the depths of your brain, like, in Lance's apartment in Chinatown, . . . [it] just doesn't feel real for me.”
Lance describes playing music for a crowd as a form of communication. Playing his drums and seeing someone moving to the beat—that’s communication. “When you make someone dance or jump or scream, that is the ultimate form of connection to me.” Chanpan puts all of their feelings and emotions into their work, in “literal ways through Grace’s words and
through intangible rhythms” by the twins. So, when people pick up on the details of their music, things that have been crafted with intention and care, it means a lot to them. “It’s a really beautiful form of validation.”
I ask whether the band goes into writing sessions with a sound in mind. With such variety across their discography, do they have a firm vision for their work? Lance takes a moment to articulate his answer. “I think we try to not have too many preconceived notions and to let the creative process guide itself. And I feel like through virtue of us being three different people with different music tastes [who] also happen to have sometimes strong musical opinions and identity that we throw into the music, it ends up being a kind of a mishmash. But when you think about it, that's kind of a better and more true reflection of our musical identity, right?”
The band solidifies that identity with each release, slowly creating a sound that is undeniably Chanpan. As they work on their upcoming EP—tentatively dropping this summer—Matthew says that “Chanpan is getting to stretch and flex musically in ways that [they] haven't been able to before.” With their constant experimentation, I feel sure every new single will be better than the last. And with the genuine passion Chanpan has—both for their work and their beliefs—it’s only up from here.
INSIDE PEAK LAPEL’S NYFW DEBUT:
A STUDENT-RUN SHOW THAT’S ALREADY IN SEASON
BY HYNING GAN
PHOTOGRAPHY BY HYNING GAN, DASHA SEMYONOVA & LUKE SEWEL
GRAPHICS — BEN STEDMAN & SASHA IOFFE
In conversation with co-founder Ben Stedman on building a brand, breaking into fashion week, and what comes next.
Soft, amber lighting spills over patterned rugs, casting long shadows beneath the models’ feet. A jazz band plays—not as a rigidly timed runway soundtrack, but as a warm undercurrent, an invitation to linger. The models don’t march down a catwalk; instead, they inhabit the space like it’s their own. Some play chess, others thumb through well-worn books, their movements unhurried, effortless—an extension of the collection itself.
Unlike the rigid formality of a traditional runway show, this New York Fashion Week Men’s Day presentation dissolves the usual barriers between audience and spectacle. The set feels lived-in, intimate—more memory than performance. It moves with a different kind of energy: warm, slow, deliberate. The space isn’t just a backdrop—it’s a world built with intention, inviting participation rather than passive viewing.
But what makes this show remarkable isn’t just its place on the official NYFW CFDA calendar—it’s that every detail, from the meticulously curated set to the precision of the production, was brought to life by a team of undergraduate students. Without fashion house backing or pre-existing industry connections, they built something that didn’t just belong on this stage—it thrived in it.
At the centre of it all is Ben Stedman, co-founder and director of PEAK LAPEL , the brand making its official NYFW debut. I met him a few days before the show at my local Joe & The Juice, the kind
Ben never set out to be a fashion show producer. His background is in business strategy, not design, but his ability to translate vision into execution is what made this show possible.
“We’re in a really rare environment where something like this can actually happen,” he tells me. “The people around us aren’t just classmates—they’re designers, filmmakers, musicians. That kind of access lets us build things beyond just school projects.”
This show wasn’t just about fashion—it was a collaborative ecosystem, pulling together college students with creative disciplines from across New York City:
Parsons designers like Jack Milkes and Brenna Gentner of Peak Lapel, whose collection headlined the show.
Mannes School of Music, providing a live jazz band that transformed the atmosphere.
• • • of place where Parsons students refuel on caffeine and optimism before deadlines consume them. I’ve known Ben for a while, and I’ve always been struck by his ability to articulate a vision and execute it flawlessly. Some people have great ideas. Others know how to make things happen. Ben is one of those rare few who can do both.
NYU’s film school, capturing the process and ensuring the presentation lived beyond the night.
Instead of waiting for the industry to hand them a platform, they built their own, pulling together the right talent to make it happen. Scaling up from a self-produced student show to NYFW means operating at a different level. The first time around, everything was adrenaline-fueled chaos. “Doors were opening, and not everything was ready yet,” Ben laughs. This time? Different story.
Now, they weren’t just organising a show. They were launching Peak Lapel as a brand. Everything had to shift: the production, the storytelling, the way they positioned themselves within the industry. This wasn’t just a showcase anymore; it was an introduction. A statement. “The first show felt like our alpha version,” Ben says. “This time, we thought we’d get to do our beta version, learn from our previous mistakes, and make things easier. But once we got into Men’s Day, it was like—nope, this is a different level, we have to present this as a final production.”
And that meant learning—fast.
The first time, everything was instinct-driven, fast, chaotic. This time, everything had to be sharper, more intentional.
Content was the first priority. At SS25, they had assumed documentation would happen naturally, that photographers and guests would capture what mattered. But hoping for coverage wasn’t enough. This time, they planned everything—assigned deliverables, locked in photographers, ensured the show would be documented exactly how they needed it to be.
“If you didn’t get a good video of it, it never happened,” Ben says. A fashion show isn’t just about the people in the room—it’s about how it lives afterward, how it’s seen by the industry, by those who weren’t there but will decide whether it belongs.
Then there was the team. Scaling up meant trusting people he had never worked with before. The production crew wasn’t a long-established, tightly run operation—it was a patchwork team, assembled on the go, stitched together by mutual connections and last-minute decisions. “You can’t always rely on people you don’t know,” Ben says. “But at some point, you have to trust them anyway.” The key was setting clear expectations from the start—making sure everyone understood the vision, the stakes, and their role in bringing it to life.
Finally, what happens after the show matters just as much as the show itself. The first time, once the last model stepped off, it felt like they were done. But in reality, that was just the beginning. This time, they had a strategy beyond the runway—post-show content, press planning, asset deadlines, a rollout that made sure the collection didn’t just exist for one night but continued to shape the conversation afterward.
“At the end of the day, I just try to think: what am I actually in control of?” Ben says with clarity.
At the core of it all is Peak Lapel’s design philosophy—rooted in storytelling, built to last. Their FW25 collection, Memories of a Winter Holiday, isn’t about trends, but about nostalgia, sentimentality, and home.
“Jack and Brenna were literally building this brand while back home for the holidays, sewing all their looks in their bedrooms,” Ben tells me. “It only made sense to pull from that.”
The casting reinforced that ethos—models of different identities, heights, and ages took their place within the set, dissolving the industry’s usual constraints. One of them was even Jack’s dad, a full-circle moment that underscored the brand’s belief that fashion should feel personal, lived-in, and real.
Peak Lapel also looks beyond inclusivity, thinking about future-proofing fashion. Ben has taken advice from his Parsons professor, Tim Stock, known for trend analysis and cultural forecasting, to shape a long-term vision for the brand. “We’re not just
thinking about what’s happening right now,” Ben explains. “We’re trying to look at this project in a way that makes sense five, ten years down the line.” This extends to materials, too—only natural fabrics, no synthetic blends, ensuring that the brand’s foundation is built on sustainability rather than fleeting trend cycles.
The fashion industry moves fast—always onto the next name, the next trend, the next spectacle. But Peak Lapel isn’t chasing momentum; it’s building something that lasts. The brand isn’t just about aesthetic innovation but structural change: rethinking representation, designing with longevity, and shaping a future where independent brands can stand on their own terms.
Yet for all its vision, Peak Lapel is still at the beginning. This was the brand’s first real introduction to the industry, but it won’t be its last. Where it goes next—how it grows, how it defines itself beyond this moment—is an open question. But if the past few months have proven anything, it’s that Ben and his team don’t wait for permission to make things happen.
I glance at my phone—4PM. We had to rush off to class. The contrast is almost absurd: one moment discussing a show that had taken months to plan, the next grabbing our bags, blending back into the everyday churn of being a student in New York City.
For now, Peak Lapel exists in this in-between space—a brand in its infancy, a vision still taking shape, finding its fit in the fast-moving fashion industry. But if I had to make a trend forecast? Consider it already tailored for success.
HUNTER METTS
BY REBECCA JUDD PHOTOGRAPHY BY MACKENZIE RYAN
Nashville-based artist HUNTER METTS is trying vulnerability on for size, and it’s paying dividends. Between his expressive songwriting—sharply exhibited on the viral triumph that is “Weathervane”—and his bustling tour schedule, Metts’ ascent is hard to miss. A meticulous student of the folk genre, he seizes universal truths that give his music a striking glow to anyone who turns their head. Metts’ balance of creative ambition and adaptability has propelled his career in ways he never thought possible – and the best is yet to come. Before hitting the road again, Metts spoke with Local Wolves about how his recent success is grounded in his everlasting artistic values.
LET'S REWIND TO THE BEGINNING. TELL ME MORE ABOUT THOSE FIRST CHAPTERS OF YOUR MUSICAL JOURNEY.
Originally, both of my parents moved to Nashville separately to do music. My dad wanted to be on the industry side of things, and came from a small town in Mississippi where bluegrass was huge. My mom came from Corpus Christi, Texas, and she wanted to be a singer.
So [music] had always been around as I was growing up, but there was a weird transition point when I was a teenager. [My dad] was bouncing around jobs a lot, and it gave me the impression—from a financial standpoint or maybe because I didn't fully understand if he was creative or not—that be -
ing a creative and raising a family don't really go together. So I went to a coding school right out of high school, and I worked in Hendersonville, Tennessee. I did that for almost two years.
Then I went on the show American Idol, and it kind of bought me time. It's something that, looking back, is kind of hard to get away from, and I definitely want to be intentional about separating myself from that. But at the same time, it’s part of the story. Post-show, I moved back in with my parents. I was doing flood restoration and mold remediation in Kentucky with my dad for, like, two weeks at a time, and then I'd drive home and write songs and it just worked out where I could start doing it full time.
THE TWISTS AND TURNS END UP MAKING YOU WHO YOU ARE.
You just find a way.
CAN YOU TELL ME MORE ABOUT THAT FIRST REALIZATION THAT [YOU WERE MEANT TO] FOLLOW YOUR PASSION? HOW DID THAT SIT WITH YOU EMOTIONALLY?
It's a very emotional process. And it's a risk as well. You give yourself one option and then pour yourself into that option, and the outcome is really out of your control, you know? You just hope people relate and you hope that you can find the most authentic version of yourself to give to someone else.
SOMETHING I FIND INTERESTING ABOUT YOUR STYLE IS THAT YOU KNOW YOUR LITERATURE, RIGHT? YOU CITE [FOLK] INFLUENCES LIKE BON IVER, FLEET FOXES, AND GREGORY ALAN ISAKOV. CAN YOU UNPACK WHAT IT IS THAT YOU MOST ADMIRE ABOUT THEM?
I think it’s that they all have such a timeless quality to them. I think at the beginning [of my career], I would gravitate when I was creating something to what's “cooler,” maybe. But time and time again, it was artists like [those] that pulled me back into the realization that if I want to make a career of this thing, I have to be authentic and be honest with myself.
ON THE FLIP SIDE OF THAT, AS YOUR ARTISTRY HAS EVOLVED, I’M SURE SOME OF YOUR INFLUENCES MIGHT HAVE EXPANDED AS WELL. DO YOU HAVE ANY SORT OF UNLIKELY SOURCES OF INSPIRATION – ANYONE YOU PULL FROM THAT MIGHT NOT BE EXPECTED OF YOU?
Maybe Ray LaMontagne, or Tom Waits. If you look at the lyrics in [their] songs—Tom Waits’ discography—it feels like there's hundreds of songs where it's a real expression and output of his whole life. I really admire that about both of those guys.
YOUR SONGWRITING IS REALLY VIVID. I FIND IT SO LUSH IN WHAT IT DESCRIBES. TALK TO ME ABOUT YOUR SONGWRITING PROCESS: HOW DOES YOUR CREATIVITY FLOW, AND HOW DO YOU CHALLENGE YOURSELF THROUGH THOSE INEVITABLE SLUMPS?
I used to think it was cliché when people say “whenever it happens, that's when it happens.” But I have found myself more recently just trying to be available. Whether that's a song title—a motive with just a couple words—or a phrase or a melody that holds the weight of the whole song… they are these big, big pieces, and you're all trying to fit 'em together. [It’s about] just being available and willing to try things.
I do gravitate towards the instrumentation [of a song], and then a song title, where then you kind of color in by number. That’s when I find I have the best luck.
HOW DO YOU THEN TRY TO PUSH THE BOUNDARIES WITHIN THE FOLK MUSIC SCENE? WHAT ARE SOME WAYS YOU'RE REALLY TRYING TO EXPERIMENT A BIT MORE?
Tying in different elements, creating that “ten degrees of separation” where it's hard to put your finger on the genre, I think that's important to me. So whether that's the instrumentation, or the lyrics leaning to something more relatable… because I know sometimes in the folk space, it can be very vague and you take what you need from it.
I feel like in the 2010s, folk music felt different to me from that time period than what it is now. And seeing how much you could strip something back, or the opposite where you’re seeing how big a folk song could get, I think those are important things to do.
I HEAR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING ABOUT HOW FOLK KIND OF TRANSFORMED. WHEN I THINK OF FOLK NOW, I THINK OF ARTISTS LIKE NOVO AMOR, JUST BEING SO DYNAMIC WITH THE VOCAL MELODIES.
“WEATHERVANE” HAS TOUCHED HEARTS AROUND THE WORLD WITH ITS HONEST BEAUTY, RACKING UP MILLIONS OF STREAMS AND TOPPING VIRAL CHARTS. WHAT WAS YOUR REACTION WHEN YOU FIRST REALIZED THAT THIS SONG HAD MADE AN IMPACT?
First and foremost, I'm just so thankful at all. It's kind of a songwriter's dream to write a song that you believe in and then other people believe in that message too and relate to that message.
I
REALLY WANT TO BUILD A WORLD AROUND MY MUSIC
It's really good for me, too, because it's like the first song off of a new project where I sat down and [thought,] 'I can't say yes to things that I don't fully believe in anymore.' If I can't see myself being 40, 50, 60 years old and singing these lyrics and believing in them, I don't know if it needs to be in the song. Coming at it from that approach and seeing how it related to people was a songwriter's dream for sure.
THAT’S SO TOUCHING. GOING BACK TO WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT THE TIMELESS QUALITY TO YOUR MUSIC THAT YOU'RE TRYING TO EMBODY, THAT'S WONDERFUL.
THE PAST COUPLE MONTHS OF YOUR LIFE, YOU'VE BEEN ON THE ROAD WITH ARTISTS LIKE STEINZA AND DAVID KUSHNER. YOU’VE GOT SHOWS WITH DONOVAN WOODS AND JAMES BAY ON THE HORIZON. CAN YOU DESCRIBE HOW IT FEELS TO SHARE YOUR MUSIC WITH SO MANY DIFFERENT POCKETS OF THE WORLD? WHAT IS IT THAT YOU'VE MOST APPRECIATED ABOUT THE ADVENTURES THAT YOU'VE HAD ON THE ROAD?
It's really special because you get to incorporate different elements and bring the songs to life in a different way than a studio recording would. My band setup is me, a bass player and then someone who plays pedal steel and banjo. You’re almost re-imagining these songs at their core.
I remember being out with David and with so many shows, people would ask afterwards [about the pedal steel]. They're like, “what is that?” That's a special thing, because if the music can touch somebody, but also open the door to something new, I think that's important too. It gives a fresh perspective on my songs, to an extent, but then hopefully for someone else, a fresh perspective on a show.
SPEAKING OF THINGS TO LOOK FORWARD TO, YOU RECENTLY TEASED YOUR NEXT SINGLE “ABILENE” ON SOCIAL MEDIA. IT'S GOT THIS DELICATE OPTIMISM THAT FEELS QUITE MAGICAL. CAN YOU TELL ME MORE ABOUT THIS TRACK AND HOW IT FITS INTO YOUR STORY?
My mom is from Texas, and Abilene is a small place in Texas, right in the center. I wanted to do
something that represented that. [She] had an interesting upbringing growing up. My grandfather passed away last year, and I think it opened up a lot of emotions for my family as a whole. They truly grew up in the middle of nowhere on a ranch. I think the song paints a picture of maybe what that childhood was like for him and for my mom.
I really want to build a world around my music, and not just chase what would do well on social media, which was the opposite approach to “Weathervane.” I’m obviously fortunate that that happened, but you can continue making decisions based off of the song and not just the numbers. I think that you can get roped into that so fast. [“Abilene”] just paints a good picture of what my world is. You're listening to me. I'm excited for people to hear the whole thing.
YOU DID THAT WITH “SOMEHOW YOU'RE ALWAYS THERE” – TAKING THESE STORIES OF GRIEF AND OF LOOKING BACK AND YOU FIND A WAY TO MAKE IT SOMETHING EVERLASTING.
YOU'VE ALLUDED TO PLENTY MORE MUSIC COMING IN 2025. CAN YOU SHARE ANY MORE DETAILS ABOUT WHAT YOUR FUTURE LOOKS LIKE?
I think I have some of the best songs – we led with “Weathervane,” not because we thought it was the best song. I love every song that I put out, I believe in every song put out, but there are some more than others where every time it comes on, you feel like it's the first time you heard it. Where it holds that excitement and the weight is always there, it never fades. So I'm excited for people to hear and really connect the dots too. Hopefully, I can create a world where people are happy to listen and enjoy coming to the shows and stay after and I hear their stories…
I'm going back out to Colorado at the end of this month and I'll be recording more songs. It's just a special time.
DIVE SLOW
PHOTOGRAPHY BY DYLAN TABIRARA
STYLING — RANEN CHANG
MODEL — JOSEPH YI
CLEMENTINE MOREL
BY ANG CRUZ
PHOTOGRAPHY BY JUSTINA BRANDT
In the poem “Backwards” by Warsan Shire, there’s a line that goes “I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love, you won’t be able to see beyond it.” This line perfectly encapsulates the work of New York-based artist, CLEMENTINE MOREL . Clementine, a multi-disciplinary visual and audio artist, is known for their portrait photography. She has a vision for turning everyday life into stories about community, love, intimacy, and current events. With several galleries and projects under their belt, Clementine’s work deeply resonates with many. Local Wolves got the opportunity to speak with her about everything from her gallery work, to advice they’d give to their younger artistic self, and much more.
WHAT WAS YOUR JOURNEY TO BECOMING A PHOTOGRAPHER?
I think my journey started when I was first born. My mom was a person who documented everything. At my mom’s home, we had thick, gigantic photo albums from when I was born until I became a teenager. I’ve been around photography and artists my whole life. Then when I was 14, I received my first camera from my grandfather and started documenting my life before studying advertising communications in the Dominican Republic with a focus on graphic design and visuals. Eventually, I started using photography as my medium as a full-on artist from 2016 to 2017 and that’s when I started working on projects in the Dominican Republic. When I moved to the United States in 2020, COVID happened so I had to take a step back with photography as a main focus. So instead I used it as a way to express myself and tell stories versus working with brands. These past few years, I’ve really dwelled on becoming a full-time artist as much as possible.
HOW DOES YOUR IDENTITY INFLUENCE YOUR WORK?
I have seen photography as a way of sharing my story and other people’s stories because I wish growing up I was able to have this type of art around me. I feel like my generation, having grown up with social media, art became more about the content and becoming viral and not so much on connecting with each other as humans. The way I express how I see the world is shared in the stories I tell. Being able to talk about mental health, the LGBTQIA+ community, racism, and women’s issues — these are all things I wish were around me in a contemporary way and I would’ve felt less alone. My identity is always present in my work, it’s how I see the world.
HOW DO YOU CHOOSE THE SUBJECTS OF YOUR ARTWORK?
It’s very ingrained in the community. I have always wanted to show the beauty of my community — and when I say community, I mean the vastness of my communities like the Latinx community, the LGBTQIA+ community, the female community, and the genderqueer community. The subject for me is real people who are going through their daily lives and just existing. I get the benefit of showing models or showing people who are familiar with the camera but for me, it’s showing my people and showing who we are and how beautiful we are. It’s all about showcasing my community because our stories need to be heard, need to be shown, and need to be seen.
NEW YORK AND THE NEW YORK COMMUNITY IS A PREVALENT THEME IN YOUR WORK, WHAT ABOUT NEW YORK INSPIRES YOUR WORK?
I was born in Miami then moved to the Dominican Republic when I was six and lived my whole life there until 2020. During my first visit to New York when I was 11, in my first steps in the concrete jungle that was New York I was like ‘Oh, this is home.’ I had a lot of opportunities to come and live there but a fear of leaving the known and going into the unknown was too strong. When I came to move to New York in 2020, the universe took away the chance to be able to fully live in the city. When I finally had the chance to actually live in New York City around last year, I decided to fully grab this opportunity by its balls. What you see of my work in New York is me feeling what is home for me. It’s how I see New York both as home, but also the place I can see people fully be and allow others to be. As long as I have the honor and privilege of living in New York, my photography will always be through the lens of how I see New York City as a queer, Latinx person.
WHAT IS THE PROCESS OF TURNING YOUR VISION INTO ARTWORK?
It can go from A to Z. But my ideal process is working from pre-production to post-production. I love pre-production because it’s creating the idea and asking what I want to tell with this story, the pictures, and this person. I work very strategized because of my background in advertising and communications, but again it’s not always this way. The day of a photoshoot is my favorite part because what I’ve worked and planned for is finally coming together. But in the past year, I’ve found beauty in just shooting and grabbing my camera and shooting my day-to-day. My camera is my third eye. I find beauty in strategizing projects, and I love the opportunity to collaborate with people who I relate to in the craft. But I also love the beauty of just creating because of the feeling and seeing something that resonates with you.
YOU’VE HAD SEVERAL EXHIBITIONS AND A GALLERY WITH EMPOWHER AND THE SATELLITE GALLERY — CAN YOU TELL ME MORE ABOUT THOSE EXPERIENCES?
EmpowHer happened in 2019 when I was working in the Dominican Republic and the owner of the collection reached out because she loved a campaign I worked on called “Free Your Sexuality,” which was an ode to the female body and how our yonis are an intricate part to who we are and our wellbeing. She reached out to me and asked if I’d be down to come to New York City. It was my first international exhibit and an incredible experience. Satellite was last year, and it was funny how it happened. I saw the sub -
mission page and the topic and thought of a specific photo I took in the Hamptons while I was working on a TV show and thought it could work. It’s funny because usually when you submit to these things you sit down and curate between photos, but I saw the submission and knew this photo worked for this. They reached out and told me they loved it and wanted to exhibit it. All I could think was 'Is this real?' I used to believe that to be in an exhibition or gallery, my work had to be a really big project. But the fact that documenting my journey is something people in these spaces are resonating with makes me feel extremely honored. I’m honored that people are seeing what I’m seeing.
YOU DO A LOT OF WORK WITH PHOTOGRAPHY BUT ALSO FILM AND WRITING — HOW DO YOU APPROACH CHOOSING THE BEST METHOD OF STORYTELLING GIVEN YOUR MULTIMEDIA BACKGROUND?
It really depends on the story. The story will tell you the medium because not everything needs to be shot visually. Not everything has to stay in a still. When I go about my work, I see the story I’m trying to tell. I analyze it and ask myself if this method will work. Will photography work? Or can I tell it as a film? Can I work with another artist? Is there potential for a dance piece or a way to add movement? Will the clothing and setting be a part of the story? The story will tell you what does and doesn’t work, or if it’s the story to be told at the moment, or if you have to wait until it comes back to you.
MY VISION OF THE WORLD IS THAT KINDNESS IS BEAUTIFUL, POWER IS NEEDED, AND EMPATHY IS A MUST.
WHAT IS SOME ADVICE YOU WOULD GIVE TO YOURSELF BACK WHEN YOU WERE STARTING YOUR ART CAREER?
My artistic journey has been a journey. A lot of imposter syndrome, self-doubt, and people projecting their doubt onto me. I would say to myself to trust that feeling. That feeling is real and this is what you love. Don’t let society project their fears and their judgment into an art form that you breathe for. Just keep trusting and doing what you’re doing, and don’t be afraid to take breaks. What you’re seeing is needed for others to also see.
HOW DO YOU USE ART TO ARTICULATE YOUR VISION OF THE WORLD AND WHAT IS YOUR VISION FOR THE WORLD?
My vision of the world is that kindness is beautiful, power is needed, and empathy is a must. I see the world with a lot of love and I think that because I go around with love and I want to give love and show love that’s where my vision and photography come from. What I’m photographing comes from such love that you can see all the types of beauty that image can bring. I’m not just talking about happy feelings either, because pain and hurt are beautiful, but you just have to find what is beautiful about that. My vision and photography are to show the beauty that the world brings, even when we are in the darkest of times. Showing we can achieve this type of beauty and bring safety, empathy, calm, and safety into places we think it cannot be achieved.
IS THERE ANYTHING WE SHOULD KEEP OUR EYES OUT COMING FROM YOU IN THE FUTURE? HOW CAN WE SUPPORT YOU AND YOUR ART?
Oh honey, there’s a lot of things coming — cross your fingers. I am definitely working to keep telling and creating stories for the community and to keep connecting with others through my art so we all feel less lonely, especially in times like this. I am directing a few projects too. The best way to support me is to share my work. I also love receiving feedback and getting insight on how I can grow and be better. But at the end of the day, supporting artists as we try to shift the narrative of not just being commercial and creating content, but connecting with each other through art, helps us a lot. Art is more than likes, it’s making people feel.
THE VICES
BY ALEXIS MARION
PHOTOGRAPHY BY ANA OQUENDO
From the vibrant city of Groningen in the northern Netherlands hails alternative rock band, THE VICES . Made up of Floris van Luijtelaar (vocals/ guitar), Simon Bleeker (bass), Jonathan Kruizenga (organ/guitar) and Mathijs Louwsma (drums), each member brings unique influences that craft the fun, gritty vibe of their discography. Their name represents the acknowledgement of humanity’s imperfections and each member’s diverse perspectives that play a role in their creative process.
In the early days of the band, Floris, Simon and Matthew met in high school and started The Vices. Before they even played their first live show, they were asked to open for Yungblud in 2019. “He played small venues, and yet we were asked to do two supports with him and two weeks before that show, we realized we can't play all this live that well…we need someone else,” Luijtelaar said. “So we called Jonathan…we knew that he was a really good musician.” Jonathan had never been in a band, other than school bands, prior to The Vices. This made the concept of opening for a show with over 1,500 people a bit overwhelming. “When he first called me, I said no because I was a little bit scared to do it,” Kruizenga said. “But then after an hour, I thought, ‘I have to do this,’ so I called him back. That was the beginning, and I became part of the new band, The Vices.”
From there, the band went on to play many festivals around Europe, including some shows in the U.S. “[Festivals] are really important,” Kruizenga said. “It's the place where people get to know your music and obviously there's going to be a lot of people that don't know your music…you have to try and convince them, and that's really fun.”
Now in the band’s sixth year together, they released a new album on February 7th, Before It Might Be Gone. They reflect on the excitement, and even tiny fears, within the release of their eagerly anticipated record. “The beautiful thing about music is it can mean so many different things to so many different people,” Luijtelaar said. “So if you work hard on a piece of music or on a whole album, and it means a lot to you, it doesn't necessarily mean the same to other people.”
However, even with the fear of misunderstandings in their new stories and sounds, the group is excited to play for those who have connected with it. “To go on tour with all the new music that you've been so hyped about and that you've just been craving to play…that’s very exciting to me,” Luijtelaar said.
“I really, really hate the time between when your album is finished and when it comes out,” Kruizenga said. “When it's done, you're really excited about it and you just want to put it out immediately, so when that day comes, it's always really surreal because you're living up to that moment for maybe a year or so.”
The vibe of the band’s live shows greatly depends on where they’re playing, as they appreciate the homey feeling of Europe, but love the challenge and sometimes even chaos of playing for an audience that may not know them as well.
“Every tour has its own part that is really nice, like for the U.S., it's smaller venues [that are] really intimate and you see a lot; we all really, really like traveling, so it's fun to just drive around and see all the places,” Kruizenga said. “But also, back in the Netherlands, we have our biggest following, so to have everybody sing along and just have everyone be there for you, it's also really, really special.”
Their biggest secret to delivering a vibrant performance to a new crowd? It’s showing them exactly why you’re loved back home.
“We always had this attitude from the start that we just wanted to convince everybody who's at the show and give our everything,” Kruizenga said. “We don't change ourselves or anything…you do what you do best, you do what you love and you do it with people you love,” Luijtelaar added. “Don't change yourself because of where you are, but just be what we are and convince everyone of that.”
Whether in a live show or on their album, The Vices’ main focus is to make music that moves and resonates with people.
“Music is all about the feelings and when you let somebody feel something, I think that's the goal,” Luijtelaar said.
Femininominon
PHOTOGRAPHY BY MICHELLE CASTILLO
STYLING — EMPRESS VINTAGE
HAIR, MAKEUP & GROOMING — TIFFANY BARRIOS, CHRISTOPHER PHAM, ELYSA QUINTELLA & HALEY PURSER MODELS — ERIN LEIGH PRIBYL, KAI TONEY, MARA MUNOZ & NHƯ QUỲNH NGUYỄN
PRODUCTION — ERIN LEIGH PRIBYL ONSITE ASSISTANTS — TEDDY DE GROOT & RICKY CORONADO
Nothing at the moment, I’m more of a movie person
The Politics of Design by Ruben Pater
A mix of Hippo Campus, Tiny Habits, Silica Gel, HANRORO
Recipe testing to recreate dishes from countries I lived in previously
Graphic Designer
Yoolim Moon she/her Seoul, South Korea n/a
Petra Restaurant at Itaewon
hot black coffee or rooibos caramel tea
Sleep in and wake up without an alarm, make brunch.
Buy groceries at a farmer’s market, thrift, sit at a cafe or go to an art exhibition.
Cook dinner, wind down with tea, watch a movie or crochet.
