Anne Carson · On Rosalía

We require heroism of our entertainers. We want them sacrificing themselves to a certain ultimate degree of input. No...

Ihave​ a Rosalía hangover. We climbed a giant day to reach her, all twenty thousand Chicago fans. Strutting and grinning and asterisking her eyes she held their shrieking out around her like a magic cloak and changed them all to rabbits or a vase of tulips inside its folds. The white crinolines. The shrieking. So much to understand. At her every inhalation of breath the entire audience screamed as if she were raking their individual spines with her fingernail, each spine. That voice can do anything. And the persona blooms out to contain it. Imagine seducing twenty thousand people like this…

saved by

• Brixton Sandhals
• Ninfa Huamani Altuna

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