Tabla de contenidos para Issue 59 en Huck

Disruption gets a lot of bad press. It’s about as misunderstood and vilified as ‘disorder’. The word alone is a source of anxiety for some, a sign that chaos is just around the bend. Why mess with the machine when it’s in full swing? Why risk throwing everything out of sync? ‘It works just fine!’ they shriek in line, picking up the pieces of a broken system. But what would happen if you were to flip the lens? What if disruption becomes a tool – an opportunity to pry open a crack? What if the ability to change things up becomes your armour in an unpredictable world? There is beauty in disorder, in a transgressive push for change, when it’s rooted in more than just self-gain. But when power slips…

“GREAT IDEAS, it has been said, come into the world as gently as DOVES. Perhaps then, if we listen attentively, we shall hear, amid the UPROAR OF EMPIRES & NATIONS a faint flutter of wings, the gentle stirring of LIFE & HOPE. Some will say that this hope lies in a nation; OTHERS, IN A MAN. I believe rather that it is AWAKENED, BEVIVED, NOURISHED BY MILLIONS OF SOLITARY INDIVIDUALS whose deeds and works every day negate frontiers and the crudest implications of history.” –ALBERT CAMUS…

A few years ago, Dave Longstreth thought Dirty Projectors was finished. The musical project he started in his Yale dorm room had grown and changed as he did: rotating members, shifting styles and linking up with like-minded outsiders such as Björk and David Byrne. The only constants were complex rhythms and abstract ideas. There were lyrics translated into the ancient language of Akkadian, a ‘glitch-opera’ about the Eagles’ Don Henley and a song-by-song tribute to how Black Flag’s Damaged made Dave feel as a kid. Whether these were loose conceptual frameworks or just straight-up trolling, the music eluded classification. Then, after touring 2012’s acclaimed Swing Lo Magellan, he and bandmate Amber Coffman broke up. She had become such an integral part of the band, and Dave’s life, that continuing as…

IT’S THE NIGHT of the Baftas and Ken Loach is ready to speak his mind. After winning Outstanding British Film for I, Daniel Blake, the director saunters up to the stage in a tuxedo, accepts the award from Nicole Kidman and grips the podium with both hands. What comes next is classic Loach: in the span of just 110 seconds, he segues gracefully between expressing gratitude, condemning the government and warning of a dark, divisive future. But in-between the comments that draw applause, in-between the lines that will make headlines, he emphasises the simple power of film. “They can entertain, they can terrify, they can take us to worlds of imagination, they can make us laugh and they can tell us something about the real world we live in.” Loach,…

Jacob Mallinson Bird had fallen in love with drag by the time he walked his first season. But after hearing of gay models being told to carry a skateboard to castings or “butch up a bit” on the runway, he decided to keep Dinah Lux, his alter-ego, a secret. It was only in Jacob’s second season, following some encouragement from friends, that he decided to let Dinah loose in Paris. “There’s a photo of me being carried by 40 boys outside the Hotel Printania, where all the models stay,” says the 23-year-old. “It was the first time these two parts of my life had come together. And while I looked terrible in my cocktail dress and crushed wig, it felt wonderful.” Later that night, as Dinah emerged from a nightclub…

Ivonne Reyes – a street artist who goes by the name Yerly One – shares a moment with her one-year-old son Matías after lunch at their home in San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador. The 25-year-old, who started tagging seven years ago as an architecture student, believes graffiti has enormous power to reach people, even those who would prefer to ignore it. ”I think this is a beautiful example of how normal Yerly’s daily life is,” says photographer Fred Ramos. “Some people here think that just because someone is a graffiti artist, they’re lazy or criminal. But they work, have families and pay taxes like everybody else.”…

NTERVIEWING JOHN LYDON can be a testing experience. This is not an opportunity for a structured conversation; there will be no casual back-and-forth. Instead there are only brief chances to interject, typically whenever he pauses to take a breath or sip some water. Even if a question is landed successfully, there’s every chance it’ll be rolled right over and ignored. You just have to wait for another fleeting chance to appear and take aim once again. At 61, Lydon is still a hurricane of ideas. There is never any hint of hesitation. Topics are torn through – bullshit called out, absurdities dismissed – with all the emphasis of a pantomime villain, his ripostes capped with a satisfied cackle. It’s always been this way. Growing up in London’s Finsbury Park, the…

A boxer storms out of the ring, incandescent with rage. He prowls around the dressing room, cursing the result, punching the wall. Then he realises that he’s being filmed. For a split-second, it looks like he may lunge for the camera or at least demand that it be turned off... but he doesn’t. Instead he storms back out to the arena, filmmaker in tow, before sobbing into the arms of his mother, who tells him: “Don’t get mad. There’s a lot of people watchin’. Control yourself.” This is a scene from Cameraperson, a transgressive documentary that blurs the lines between personal and public, impartiality and intent, chaos and control. It pulls together candid outtakes from other movies – captured by Kirsten Johnson over a 25-year career in cinematography – and…

Evening light is breaking through the leaves of London’s Battersea Park, where three friends – Amanda Feilding, Joe Mellen and Bart Huges – are tripping on acid. It’s the height of the 1960s and the group are talking animatedly about their shared passions – the ego mechanism, cerebral circulation – as a pigeon named Birdie nestles into Amanda’s shoulder, cooing affectionately and pecking her neck. But this isn’t just a bunch of hippy waffle. These sunny outings are an integral part of the trio’s pioneering investigations into LSD. Fifty years later, those same hypotheses about psychedelics and brain function are finally being recognised by science. Today Amanda is director of the Beckley Foundation, a think-tank which has been an instrumental force in global drug policy reform. At 74, she has…

IT’S LATE ON a Saturday afternoon in May but the sun is still beating down on the South Sudanese capital of Juba. A fleet of cars carrying Annet Angaika and dozens of other young hip-hop singers, dancers and DJs pulls up to a dock on the outskirts of town. Annet, a 22-yearold vocalist better known in that circle by her stage name, Neetah Baby, hops out, smooths her tight black skirt and matching cropped tank top, runs her hands over her long brown weave, and poses for a selfie-stick while her friends clank glasses of warm whiskey and pop bottles of champagne. Then they board a sunset cruise down the White Nile River. It’s been two-and-a-half years since bloody conflict broke out in the same city, sparking chaos that immediately…