Support Independent Arts Journalism As an independent publication, we rely on readers like you to fund our journalism and keep our reporting and criticism free and accessible to all. If you value our coverage and want to support more of it, consider becoming a member today. This article is part of Hyperallergic ’s 2024 Pride Month series , featuring interviews with art-world queer and trans elders throughout June.
How audacious was it of me to use my cracked iPhone 13 to snap photos of Nan Goldin — and in the intimacy of her home, no less. But somehow, the preeminent photographer let me snap away during our recent interview at her New York apartment, though she was rightfully wary. I took a low-lit photo of her playing with one of her cats; another of her seated at the edge of her bed, smiling shyly at the camera with a collection of Peter Hujars in the background.
I took some more shots in her workroom and living room, full of art, books, awards, and memorabilia from her illustrious, multi-decade career. Goldin rose to renown in the 1980s as a chronicler, witness, and participant in LGBTQ+ communities in Boston, New York, Berlin, and elsewhere. She lived through the harrowing heights of the AIDS epidemic, losing many friends and lovers along the way.
Her autobiographical, metamorphic slideshow The Ballad of Sexual Dependency (first exhibited in the 1985 Whitney Biennial) is a record of these times. Around 2018, after emerging from a life-threatening OxyContin addiction, .
