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ABOUT

Fifteen years and one day after Andy Warhol’s queer muse, Fred Herko took a flying grand jete from the fifth floor of a New York apartment building, in what can only be described as the ultimate last dance; Matthew van Roden was born. Raised by a working class family who knew not the strange creature who had landed with a similar splat into their lives, the child was taught the ways of a terrifying and charismatic God. The young Matthew strove to transform their very nature into the image of the Divine, a quest that lingers in their blood to this day, swilling with gin and glitter and emanating a stench that is simultaneously repugnant and irresistible. Something you can’t hate, but you can’t love; something in-between. 

Photo: Fiona Morrison

I acknowledge The Larrakia People who are the First Peoples and Traditional Custodians of this land and pay my respects to Elders past, present and emerging. Sovereignty of Country was never ceded.