No. ONE

Dear reader,

Simply put, Other Swans was born from love: love for the creator, love for the act of creation, and love of connection.

Most of us who are creatives were seemingly born with these imaginative impulses; my own path to working professionally as an artist and poet was circuitous, but I did eventually find my way. Over the last twenty years, I have been fortunate to develop relationships with so many artists, writers, musicians, and other creators around the world; this has enriched my life in ways I could never have imagined. From 2017-2022, I ran Quappi Projects, an art gallery focused on showing work reflecting the zeitgeist. After mounting twenty-five exhibitions, I shuttered the space in order to pursue the growing demands of my own practice. Without question, making my own work has always been my priority, but I learned so much from my time as a curator, and I have truly missed the kinds of interactions and dialogues I had during the Quappi years.

In an endeavor to resume facilitating stimulating, meaningful, and intimate conversations with the far-flung members of my community, I am launching Other Swans, the quarterly magazine you are reading right now! The publication’s title is taken from a line in my poem Cygnet, published last year in The Cortland Review, which reads: I am not friends with any other swans. The swan—particularly the black swan—has become a leitmotif in my work, signifying many things, but generally representing members of my (mostly) Queer chosen family and wider community. In the case of this poem, I was thinking of a particular swan who has long fled to other ponds, and while I meant what I wrote, I later realized that I am friends with other swans, many other swans. I’d like to share these incredible people with you.

For this inaugural issue, I’ve chosen five superstars (who also happen to be my friends): California-based visual artists Diedrick Brackens and Joan Tanner, Vermont-based writer Alex Chee, poet Richie Hofmann, now firmly a Chicagoan, and New York painter Caroline Absher. Originally, these interviews were meant to focus on the subjects’ lives and work through the lens of things they love—music, film, literature, travel, food, inspirations, etc—but each of the conversations unfolded organically, rather than within the confines of a rigid formula. I couldn’t be happier with the results.

Other Swans’ concept is simple and straightforward, but during a time of great uncertainty—to put it mildly—it feels more important than ever to communicate, to remain engaged, and to celebrate affinity whenever and wherever we can find it.

Thank you for being here.

—John Brooks