Photograph by Matthew O'Shea
Here's one of my favorite things that happens within the workings of this magazine: Our editorial and art staff identify some highly talented local artist or writer worthy of recognition. Then we write about them, introducing each one to you. Over the course of the months that follow, we stay in touch, gain their confidence, talk about our magazine's goals and how these pages would make a great home not just for their name, but for their work. In short, we bring them into the fold.
In the past few years, we've been fortunate to pull this off with internationally celebrated writer William H. Gass, who has published three pieces in SLM so far, and with widely collected photographer Michael Eastman. When we profiled Eastman back in 2008, we noted that his photographs of American streetscapes and hollowed Cuban homes are in collections throughout the world. It gives us great pride that SLM readers now often find his photographs of Forest Park, the Kiel Opera House, and Martin Luther King Boulevard in our own issues' pages.
With this April issue, we introduce two more who were once subjects, now contributors. Kyle Beachy, whose 2009 debut novel, The Slide, garnered national critical praise, offers "A Cardinals Fan in Cubs Land" (p. 56), a humorously heady exploration of what it means to wear red while living—as an expat—amid a sea of blue. And Mark Halski, who along with his wife, Jen, was named to SLM's 2009 A-List for their artful, tender family photographs, has put into our care a couple of those very shots. In the portfolio "Waiting" (p. 90), we've paired two of Halski's portraits, taken in the same room at different times, that tell overlapping stories.
This April issue is packed with much more, including our first Women's Health series (p. 92) and a fascinating look at the Christian rap scene in St. Louis ("Holy Hip-Hop," p. 98). And this month's cover story ("Welcome Home," p. 73) provides an in-depth overview of St. Louis' neighborhoods and the wide range of living options we have here. In a way, this last piece reiterates a point introduced above: Our proximity to fellow St. Louisans isn't fixed, but fluid—and new faces, new voices, are always welcome on the block.
