Mailing List


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

Articles Available Online


Alvaro Barrington, Garvey: Sex Love Nurturing Famalay

Art Review

October 2019

Kevin Brazil

Art Review

October 2019

The unofficial anthem of this year’s London Carnival was ‘Famalay’, a bouyon-influenced soca song that won the Road March in Trinidad & Tobago’s Carnival...

Essay

October 2018

The Uses of Queer Art

Kevin Brazil

Essay

October 2018

In June 2018 a crowd assembled in Tate Britain to ask: ‘What does a queer museum look like?’ Surrounded...

The women in her family have always shown dogs They keep pictures of the dogs on the wall beside the staircase, a line-up in thick, bubble-like glass The pictures are hung in a series of black oval frames When she was a child she would look behind the sofa and through the hall door and see them there, hanging silently like a row of pinned beetles   The pictures go back to sepia prints from the start of the last century, the first being her great-grandmother’s prize-winning Pekingese, Cob In these the dogs look athletic, their eyes small dark buttons The pictures become gradually more detailed and colourful as they descend the stairs, ending in a series of young dogs that look like goblins, illustrations for a hallucinatory children’s book   Beneath each one her mother cuts out a small square of paper and tacks it to the wallpaper with gold pins These squares document each dog’s achievements Damson’s Best of Breed Maggie’s Best in Show Deano, Agility Champion Ugly Maura who never won anything but did once rescue a mouse from drowning in a rain-filled bucket   The family’s usual photographer is dead by the time she wants pictures of her own dog, Marie She has to find a new one on the internet, on a website whose landing page is shaped like an unfurled scroll The cursor becomes a white quill and the photographer’s name is scrawled out in an animation at the top of the page   He has a studio above a stationery shop in the centre of her town, and wears double-lensed glasses that make his eyes spill across his face He calls the dogs things like ‘arrogant’ and ‘stately’ and chews the edges of his fingernails to scabs   He pulls down a screen over a metal set of drawers and the dogs sit in front of it The first screen depicts a pink sky and white clouds, and he tries others: a castle on a hill, a rainbow, plain colours, dark so that the subject stands out like in an oil painting She doesn’t get a say in Marie’s background: he gives

Contributor

July 2018

Kevin Brazil

Contributor

July 2018

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

Nora Ikstena's ‘Soviet Milk’

Book Review

August 2018

Kevin Brazil

Book Review

August 2018

Soviet Milk by Nora Ikstena opens with two women who cannot remember. ‘I don’t remember 15 October 1969,’ says the first. ‘I don’t remember...

READ NEXT

poetry

November 2013

Rescue Me

George Szirtes

poetry

November 2013

Pain comes like this: packaged in a moment of hubris with a backing band too big for its own...

fiction

July 2014

Zone

Mathias Enard

TR. Charlotte Mandell

fiction

July 2014

I remember the day Andrija the invincible collapsed for the first time, the warrior of warriors whom we’d never...

fiction

August 2017

Lengths

Matthew Perkins

fiction

August 2017

1   I sat at the kitchen table while Valentine prepared cups of flowery, smoky loose leaf tea. Antoine...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required