Remembering Alice Wong
On the one-month anniversary of her passing, we honor the acclaimed disability justice advocate, writer, shit-talker, and friend to so many.
On the one-month anniversary of her passing, we honor the acclaimed disability justice advocate, writer, shit-talker, and friend to so many.
It's really revelatory to feel so alone in your shame and guilt and then meet a community of people who also feel the same way.
Despite Trump, transphobes, and a pandemic, the San Francisco storytelling event-turned-international-movement has plenty to celebrate.
What happens when you turn the creation of a haunted house over to local artists? Spinning wolf heads, hanging entrails, and one very good fluffy dog.
As the kind of person who was legitimately scared watching Ghostbusters, the idea of being in an enclosed space filled with things meant to scare me is truly my version of hell. But even I found a lot to love about The Haunt, a timely homage to haunted houses hosted by San Francisco’s Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. If Oscar the Grouch, John Waters, and the Addams family all entered a polycule, this is the kind of art they’d make together.
Under the projector-generated glow of a sinister full moon, visitors to The Haunt are invited to wander a maze-like structure to witness scenes reflecting the best of B-movie horror. Behold: flying bats ready to suck your blood! A giant spinning wolf head! Hanging entrails made of party streamers! Dancing witches! A stuffed toy plane held captive in a massive spiderweb! Eek!


Among the terrors of The Haunt: A spinning wire chandelier and witches under a menacing eyeball. (Robbie Sweeny/YBCA)
The project is led by Bat Witch Ghost, a new organization devoted to celebrating the populist, artistic aspect of the American haunted house. Over the course of several months, founders Aaron Wojack and Anna Sapozhnikova wrangled a team of local artists to build each section of the experience with mostly recycled and discarded materials. Every scene is handmade mostly from garbage (complimentary), such as the cardboard candles on the wire chandelier and the spray-painted plastic walls of the maze itself. A standout section by artists Alexis Reiko Yonan and Oliver Hawk Holden is a gruesome video retelling of an old Japanese folk story about the “yuki-onna,” a female snow spirit, with someone’s very good and fluffy dog standing in as a ferocious wolf.
Despite the bats with goofy tongues hanging out and mushroom clouds with jack-o'-lantern faces on them, I was still pretty uneasy — scared, even! — walking through this installation. But at the end, once I finally emerged from a giant bat’s mouth, I felt so much joy over the sublime glory of people creating things together. That’s the shit that makes life worth living!

Outside of the YBCA, San Francisco is filling up with public art that, presumably, is meant to do something similar: evoke awe. But art critics like Sarah Hotchkiss and Max Blue have rightly pointed out that these installations, including several gigantic sculptures in the Embarcadero and Golden Gate Park, are privately funded and fast-tracked to stroke the egos of its billionaire backers. They reflect the taste of their benefactors, not the people. They’re not for people.
Give us 100 haunted houses, San Francisco. Let it be messy and made out of cheap materials. Give thousands of local artists the means and opportunity to make something silly and immersive for the rest of us to enjoy.
The Haunt at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts is open Oct. 25 to Nov. 1. $25 for adults, free for kids 12 and under. According to YBCA, “matinee” visits to The Haunt are “kid-scary.” After dark, you’re advised to keep under-12s at home. There is a bar in the gallery, if you need to steel yourself.
Soleil Ho is a cultural critic, cookbook writer, and food journalist who has a nasty habit of founding media projects instead of going to therapy: from the feminist literary magazine Quaint to food podcast Racist Sandwich to our dear COYOTE.
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