Of all the places to examine in the harsh light of day, a strip club is probably right up there with public toilets and a therapist’s office for the bounty of horrors it holds. By night it’s a sensuous boudoir teeming with ample-bosomed ladies, and sophisticated gents with pockets full of dollar bills just begging to be shoved into knickers. By day it transforms into a filthy cesspit stinking of the stale sweat and regret and furnished with a collection of tired, sambuca-stained velveteen sofas (at least you hope that that’s a puddle of booze you’re squelching in).
Sad, right? Christopher Sturman has done a fine job of documenting these grimy graveyards of despair and debauchery in his series NYC Strip, which looks objectively at strip clubs with the lights on. The photographs are fascinatingly grubby, and taken with not a drop of squeamishness. Too much for a Monday morning? Sorry.
- Retracing and recreating historic reggae record sleeves with photographer Alex Bartsch
- David Wilson directs deeply moving film B.E.N. about using AI robots to tackle loneliness
- Art and About: Charlotte Trounce celebrates the architectural beauty of museums and galleries
- Riikka Laakso’s screenprinted zine is a tribute to Moomin author Tove Jansson
- Sandy Van Helden’s illustrations of contemporary culture
- Bompas & Parr explores the strange world of sploshing (NSFW)
- Kodak returns to its 1970s symbol, joining the retrobrand bandwagon
- Kodak unveils the Ektra: its first ever smartphone
- Working Not Working reveals the top 50 companies creatives would kill to work for
- William Knight's socially conscious portfolio of graphic design
- Juan Aballe’s photographs of pastoral landscapes filled with wanderlust
- Exclusive first interview with new UK Vice.com editor Jamie Clifton