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SACRAMENTO — Gov. Gavin Newsom plans to spend $19 million promoting California and dispelling “myths driven by misinformation and political rhetoric” in a marketing campaign that would run through the final months of his administration as he weighs a potential run for president.

The new contract, which is in the bidding process, comes as Newsom’s political future and national standing are closely tied to how voters view California’s economy, crime and quality of life — issues that have become central to attacks from President Trump and conservative media outlets.

The Governor’s Office of Business and Economic Development is seeking a contractor to design a statewide taxpayer-funded “California Brand Campaign,” with two-thirds of spending under the proposal to be used for paid advertising and media placements. Bidding on the contract opened Feb. 24 and is expected to end March 13.

The solicitation frames the campaign as an effort to push back on what Newsom has often described as misleading narratives about California. The campaign would launch during a period of financial uncertainty for the state, with Newsom’s January budget projecting a $3-billion deficit next fiscal year.

“California and its business climate have been falsely and maliciously maligned for years, and the state has a right to tell the true story — California is a great place to do live, work, invest and visit,” said Newsom spokesperson Tara Gallegos. “Setting the record straight will benefit every business, worker and resident of this state.”

Newsom is contemplating a run for president in 2028 and says he remains undecided about whether he will pursue the Oval Office.

State Sen. Roger Niello (R-Fair Oaks), who is vice chair of the Senate budget committee, said the language of the proposal request is concerning. He said it would make it easier to stifle criticisms of policies that he says make it difficult to do business in California.

“This is clearly part of the Gavin Newsom for President campaign, but what is most troubling to me is that this is a program to be developed by some private-sector contractor to define what is acceptable speech in the state of California,” Niello said. “That scares the stuffing out of me.”

The negative image of California — homeless encampments lining the streets, smash-and-grab robberies at malls and an exodus of residents and businesses fleeing high taxes and nanny-state governance — could be a liability for Newsom if he runs for president.

Newsom has seen his popularity surge in the last year after his fight-fire-with-fire approach to countering Trump’s rhetoric. The two-term governor has used his expanding platform, including a podcast and nationwide book tour for his recently released memoir, to repeatedly push back on Trump’s criticisms of California. He argues that California remains one of the world’s largest and most dynamic economies and the envy of other states.

The tone of the marketing campaign bid request itself echoes that message, with its introductory paragraph pulled directly from Newsom’s State of the State speech in January.

“California has never been about perfection,” it reads. “It’s about persistence. The courage of our convictions and the strength to embody them. That’s the California Way.”

Mike Madrid, a Republican strategist who runs the research nonprofit Latino Working Class Project, said scrutiny of the campaign will depend on whether the ads veer into politics or overtly promote Newsom in the way federal border security ads showcased the now ousted Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem.

“You have to ask why now?” Madrid said of Newsom’s timing for the California ad campaign. “He’s in the eighth inning of a nine-inning baseball game. Timing and tone are everything when considering the appropriateness.”

The use of taxpayer dollars to combat negative publicity about the state and the governor isn’t new under the Newsom administration.

Newsom tapped an employee in his communications office to serve as his “deputy director of rapid response” in 2024. Staff member Brandon Richards, who made $136,000 last year, is tasked with quickly dispatching responses to information the governor’s team deems inaccurate or misleading that is spread on social media and in the media.

When right-wing accounts claimed in February that Newsom allows dogs to vote in California, Richards responded with a CBS News article reporting that a woman was charged with five felonies for registering her canine. Richards and the governor’s office pushed back on false assertions that Newsom and his wife, First Partner Jennifer Siebel Newsom, were stealing money from the state through her office that same day.

Newsom’s frustration reached a boiling point over claims about the state’s response to the Los Angeles wildfires last year. President Trump publicly blamed Newsom and “his Los Angeles crew” for the disaster, though the Republican’s claims that a lack of water in Southern California led to a shortage for firefighters were widely debunked.

Newsom’s political team launched a website in January 2025 to fight misinformation about the L.A. fires, which he said at the time would “ensure the public has access to fact-based data.” The site, www.californiafirefacts.com, no longer appears to exist.

At one point, however, it redirected viewers to the redistricting campaign website for Proposition 50, according to internet archives. Newsom championed the successful redistricting ballot measure to add more Democrats to California’s congressional delegation, a direct response to Trump urging Texas and other Republican states to reconfigure their congressional boundaries to elect more Republicans to Congress.

Newsom adopted an even more aggressive social media strategy last summer after Trump deployed the National Guard and U.S. Marines to California during federal immigration sweeps. The governor directed his team to match the brash communication tactics emanating from the White House. His aides continue to shoot down criticism and launch their own snarky assaults on Trump and his allies.

The new ad campaign appears to be an extension of his work to refute the anti-California narrative.

The request for bids says “some look at this state and try to tear down our progress. They attack our values and caricature our culture. They distort the data to diminish our accomplishments.”

“Sinners,” the blockbuster film that has been a major contender during awards season, was the dominant winner at the 57th NAACP Image Awards.

The film scored trophies for outstanding motion picture and most of the acting awards, including breakthrough performance, awarded to Miles Caton. Michael B. Jordan, who won for actor in a motion picture, also won entertainer of the year.

Before the ceremony, Ryan Coogler won writing and directing honors, while Wunmi Mosaku and Delroy Lindo won the supporting actress and actor awards, respectively.

But the ceremony was not only about honoring Black excellence in entertainment. The event was also flavored by several remarks from celebrities addressing the divisive political climate and recent events that have targeted and affected Black entertainers.

Viola Davis received the chairman’s award during the 57th NAACP Image Awards on Saturday.

(Chris Pizzello / Chris Pizzello/invision/ap)

Host Deon Cole kicked off the ceremony by welcoming the audience to “the Trump Image Awards. Because you know he wants his name on everything.”

Asking permission to “buy a curse word,” he made a joke that was bleeped out during the live stream, but was apparently aimed at federal ICE agents. The comment sparked a standing ovation from the predominantly black-tie audience, many of whom wore anti-ICE pins.

“I don’t want to see no ICE ever again,” he said. “When I looked at the guest list, I took off Ice Cube, Ice-T, Ice Spice. I don’t want no ice cream, I don’t want no ice in my drink.”

Samuel L. Jackson said in a tribute to the late Jesse Jackson, who died earlier this month, that President Trump’s attacks on diversity and his quest to remove references to slavery and Black history from museums would not succeed.

Utilizing one of Jackson’s trademark slogans, Jackson said, “We will not be erased from this country’s history because I am somebody.”

And in accepting the award for actor in a drama series for “Paradise,” Sterling K. Brown added, “Like Sam said, they can’t erase us because there is no country without us.”

The event also continued to put a spotlight on the uproar surrounding the shouting of a racial slur during the BAFTA Awards last week.

Jordan and Lindo were presenters during the BAFTA Awards, which took place at London’s Royal Festival Hall. As they were introducing the visual effects category, a member of the audience shouted the N-word. The two actors paused momentarily before continuing.

Director Ryan Coogler, left, and actor Delroy Lindo presenting the award for actress in a motion picture. The pair addressed the incident at the BAFTAs in their remarks.

(Chris Pizzello / invision/AP)

Later, awards host Alan Cumming addressed the outburst, referencing the nominated film “I Swear,” which is about Scottish campaigner John Davidson, who has Tourette syndrome and shouted the racist slur from the audience. Cumming apologized, while Davidson, an executive producer for the BAFTA-nominated film, left his seat midway through the ceremony. BAFTA later issued an apology to the actors.

Cole delivered a comic prayer referencing the incident: “Lord, if there are any white men out there with Tourette’s, I advise you to tell them to read the room tonight, Lord. It might not go the way they think.”

Actor Rebecca Hall early in the awards show said she wanted to pay tribute to “two kings. Thank you for your grace.”

Lindo later in the ceremony said, “We appreciate all the support we’ve been shown in the aftermath of what happened last weekend. It is an honor to be here among our people this evening … It’s a classic case of something that could have been very negative becoming very positive.”

Here is a list of the night’s winners:

Entertainer of the year
Michael B. Jordan

Outstanding motion picture
“Sinners”

Actor in a motion picture
Michael B. Jordan, “Sinners”

Actress in a motion picture
Cynthia Erivo, “Wicked: For Good”

Breakthrough performance in a motion picture
Miles Caton, “Sinners”

Drama series
“Reasonable Doubt”

Actor in a drama series
Sterling K. Brown, “Paradise”

Actress in a drama series
Angela Bassett, “9-1-1”

Comedy series
“Abbott Elementary”

Actress in a comedy series
Quinta Brunson, “Abbott Elementary”

Actor in a comedy series
Cedric the Entertainer, “The Neighborhood”

Chairman’s Award
Viola Davis

Hall of Fame Award
Salt-N-Pepa

President’s Award
Colman Domingo

Darkness engulfs me right before I step into a dream. The Oscar-winning Mexican filmmaker Alejandro González Iñárritu guides me from a pitch-black hallway into an open space, where beams of light and smoke, interspersed with sounds from the streets of Mexico City, create a vortex into a unique cinematic experience.

Inside the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Iñárritu is giving me a tour of his new installation “Sueño Perro:” a sensorial celebration of his 2000 debut film, “Amores Perros,” in honor of its 25th anniversary. The only physical elements on display are six film projectors and the celluloid that contains frames of unreleased footage, which are shown on screens of different sizes around the room. Detached and unburdened by the need of a narrative, the images simply exist.

“I love doing installations,” Iñárritu says in Spanish. “It’s like playing a game with your friends. And it’s liberating for me, because I don’t have to think about selling tickets.”

Before arriving at LACMA, his “Sueño Perro” mesmerized audiences in Milan, Italy, and in his hometown of Mexico City. LACMA previously hosted Iñárritu’s intense and immersive project “Carne y Arena,” which allowed visitors to put themselves in the shoes of a person crossing the U.S.-Mexico border on foot.

In Milan and Mexico City, “Sueño Perro” occupied labyrinthine spaces with multiple rooms. Contained within a single room, the L.A. iteration is the “paranoic version,” Iñárritu says. Once inside, there’s no respite to the barrage of images and the soundscape that surround you. He aptly describes the projectors’ beams of luminosity as “light sculptures.”

Curiously, he notes, people have such reverence for these hypnotic streams of light that they duck to avoid disturbing them rather than crossing in front of them. Iñarritu wishes they would, in fact, disrupt the light, so their shadows can enter the frame and transform it.

Never-before-seen footage from “Amores Perros” projects from 35mm projectors across the walls at LACMA, Wednesday, Feb. 18, 2026.

(Sarahi Apaez / For De Los)

The projected footage is material that didn’t make it to the final cut of “Amores Perros”: a gritty, visceral drama following three different stories across different social classes in a chaotic Mexico City during the turn of the millennium. Back in 2018, Iñárritu learned that all his dailies (raw takes) from that shoot, which in most productions are thrown away, were preserved at Mexico’s National University (UNAM).

“It was like looking through an album you haven’t opened in 25 years, which smells of dust,” he says. “Because of the distance, the images actually evoked a beautiful nostalgia in me.”

And that album was substantial. Iñárritu recalls that he and cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto shot an immense amount of footage, nearly 1 million feet of film.

Gael García Bernal from a scene in “Amores Perros,” released in 2000.

“It’s like the placenta that’s thrown away when a baby is born. Suddenly, that discarded material, rich in DNA, which was already dead but was once part of a living being, has a life of its own,” Iñárritu explains vividly. “I didn’t know that these fragments, this dead material could be resurrected, but light has given new life to something that was forgotten.”

Critically acclaimed and Oscar-nominated for international feature film (foreign-language film back then), “Amores Perros” marked a watershed for the Mexican film industry, as an ambitious production that captivated both local and international audiences while unflinchingly portraying the country’s social ills from a humanistic standpoint.

“Look at Gael! He was 19 then. That’s a beautiful image of him,” Iñárritu says of “Amores Perros” lead García Bernal, whose shaved head is projected on one of the installation screens. The actor made his feature film debut in “Amores Perros” and has since had an extraordinary career.

At one point, three of the six projectors go dark — and the three remaining show the pivotal car crash that connects the film’s three narratives. Iñárritu and Prieto shot the imposing accident with nine different cameras. Seeing all nine different angles unspool in “Sueño Perro” provides a new understanding of the moment’s challenging orchestration.

Such a sequence evinces that “Amores Perros” was the work of an artist in his mid-30s willing to put it all on the line, uncertain whether he would get to make another film.

“I’ve changed a lot as a filmmaker, but I’m still the same idiot I’ve always been. That’s the bad news,” Iñárritu says laughing. “The other bad news is that I couldn’t make a film like that anymore, because of the number of shots and setups, and the energy behind each of those shots.”

The passage of time, in tandem with the film’s anniversary, allowed an opportunity for Iñárritu and screenwriter Guillermo Arriaga (who wrote “Amores Perros,” “21 Grams,” and “Babel”) to reconcile after a long-standing falling out. The two mended their bond in public last year during an event in Mexico City.

“It was very important for me to close this chapter,” Iñárritu explains. “There was something so special about our friendship as people — and our children were also very close. I truly missed him as a friend. As you get older, you realize that grudges and animosity are the worst investment; it’s like having a disease inside you and not wanting to let it go.”

While most exhibits celebrating a film’s legacy feature artifacts or costumes that appeared on screen, Iñárritu ultimately decided to opt out of that route. Initially, he admits, the director was tempted to find the scraps of the wrecked car that belonged to García Bernal’s character in the film, a black Ford, and place it at the center of the installation. But it was LACMA’s CEO Michael Govan who persuaded him to preserve the purer approach.

“Michael loved the idea of the projectors, of the light and memory. And he wisely told me, ‘Perhaps the material object will be distracting. This work is ethereal, and maybe something solid will create a knot.’ I thought it was a great reflection, and I said, ‘That’s true. I’m going to try for this exhibition to exist without physical matter, because it’s about the analogous, but also the immaterial, which is light and time.’”

The objects or “archaeological remains of a film,” as he calls them, cause Iñárritu great sadness. To him those relics are akin to looking at a collection of lifeless butterflies preserved in a box. “When I see the shoes that so-and-so wore or the dress that so-and-so wore, they seem to me like butterflies that once flew and now they’re dead,” Iñárritu says. “Objects that once appeared in film lack life afterwards. They’re like skeletons.”

(Sarahi Apaez / For De Los)

For young people who have mostly watched movies on their electronic devices, Iñárritu thinks witnessing “Sueno Perro” could spark great curiosity about the way cinema existed for most of its history: on film. It will allow them to think of cinema in a primal manner.

“We are organic beings, and our capacity for understanding and our development involves all our organs, and digital screens have forced us to perceive everything only on an intellectual level,” he says. Entering the installation, he hopes, will resemble the feeling of entering a womb or a cave. “The flickering light from the lamps in the projectors is reminiscent of the fire in caves when people gathered and shared stories,” he adds.

Sonically, “Sueño Perro” envelops attendees not in lines of dialogue or a musical score, but the sounds of life in Mexico City — from street vendors to a marching band — recorded over the years and brought to L.A. with the help of sound designer Martín Hernández, who’s worked on every single Iñárritu film since “Amores Perros.” And while some of those aural elements still exist today, “Amores Perros” also serves as a time capsule of a city that has evolved and mutated incessantly.

“I still recognize the city when I watch the film, but it makes me laugh so much to see the cars and the clothes of the time,” he says. “It now looks like the Paleolithic era. And I think, ‘I’m so old!” But yes, it was definitely a different city back then.”

(Sarahi Apaez / For De Los)

Like Iñárritu, I still lived in Mexico City, then known as Distrito Federal, when “Amores Perros” was released. In those days, international tourists often feared visiting the metropolis for fear of being kidnapped. To see Mexico City become a trendy, sought-after destination for “digital nomads” from the U.S. and elsewhere feels jarring.

“People from the U.S. have for so long been snobbish about Mexico, and now they go and say, ‘F—, this is a city with incredible cultural depth,’” Iñárritu says. “They realize that their snobbishness came from a misconception, based on propaganda they’ve been fed, which portrays us Mexicans only as “sombrerudos.’”

What’s so bewitching about Mexico City, and the country at large, Iñárritu thinks, is the people’s worldview and how they confront their realities.

“There’s no other country that has that kind of vitality, because despite all of its problems, and there are many — like how violence and corruption have become so normalized — the people have an energy, a joy, a vitality that’s very hard to find in any other city around the world,” he says.

On the subject of the ingrained issues that still plague his home country, Iñárritu recalls that those in power were not pleased with how “Amores Perros” addressed them on screen.

“The Mexican government was ashamed of the film,” he says. Whenever the film would win an award at an international festival, the Mexican ambassadors or diplomats in any given country would decline invitations to celebrate the accomplishment.

“They said it was a bad representation of Mexico, that what the film showed wasn’t Mexico,” Iñárritu recalls. “They said it showed too much violence. Give me a break, as if I were the secretary of Tourism.”

Aside from promoting this latest stop in the “Sueño Perro” installation’s journey, Iñárritu is in the post-production stage of his upcoming film “Digger,” starring Tom Cruise. Besides that, he’s also working on a project to honor Mexican American artist Judy Baca.

Baca is best known for the mural “The Great Wall of Los Angeles,” which extends for over half a mile along the Tujunga Wash and depicts the complex history of California. Iñárritu and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki shot a piece on this major work that will be screened at Walt Disney Concert Hall on March 7, alongside a special concert put together by Gustavo Dudamel and Gabriela Ortiz, and featuring several guest composers.

“I want to showcase the work of Judy, a Chicana who was 50 years ahead of her time and told the story of California through her eyes. I want it to be a landmark in Los Angeles. I want people to say, ‘You can’t go to L.A. and not see this mural.’”

As part of the ongoing celebration of “Amores Perros,” MACK has published a book featuring essays, behind-the-scenes photos, and storyboards. A double vinyl compilation including Gustavo Santaolalla’s score, plus tracks by generation-defining Mexican rock bands like Control Machete and Café Tacvba, has also been recently released.

Iñárritu hadn’t seen the film in a theater in many years. But when he saw it again at the Cannes Film Festival last year, he was pleased to realize it maintains its potency.

“I was struck by how well the film holds up. And it’s not just because I made it. It still has a rhythm and a muscle. It hasn’t aged badly at all. On the contrary, it’s like a young old soul,” he says with a laugh.

“Sueño Perro” will be open to the public from Feb. 26 until July 26.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” asks German photographer Wolfgang Tillmans with a laugh during a recent video call from his home in Berlin.

As he lights his cigarette, he looks every bit the renegade artist he is known for being. At 57, Tillmans is in the midst of staging his 10th exhibition in Los Angeles since the mid-1990s at Regen Projects. He is one of the most celebrated photographers of his era, with a practice that collapses the distance between fine art and the pulse of street culture, spanning epic abstractions and the familiar textures of contemporary life.

At the same time, Tillmans has another life as a serious electronic musician, recording a series of experimental albums, including his most recent, 2021’s “Build From Here.” He is deeply connected to the music world, and photographed the cover for Frank Ocean’s acclaimed “Blonde,” making him a rare artist to be in major museums while genuinely engaged with popular music and the club scene — a bit of a rock star in his own right.

The official opening of his Regen show, “Keep Movin’,” attracted a line that wrapped around the building. Fans are drawn to his varied strands of work, which move instinctively between disparate approaches and subject matter, from famous faces to images sensitive to light and shape, in subjects as simple as the curve of paper folded softly over itself.

A security guard, right, stands near the work “Robin Fischer, Dirostahl, Remscheid 2024” in German-based photographer Wolfgang Tillmans’ current exhibition, “Keep Movin’,” at Regen Projects.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

During an early walk-through for a few dozen invited guests, Tillmans held forth on his personal cosmos, surveying pictures from the experimental to the deeply intimate. Portraits, politically charged tabletop collages and quiet photographs that capture the simple vibrance of daily life are strewn across Regen’s 20,000 square feet of gallery space.

“I see my work evolve more in evolutions, rather than in revolutions,” Tillmans said, gesturing to a conceptual wall-sized image created with a photocopier.

His Regen show, through March 1, also features short video works and the abstractions of camera-less images he considers “pure photography,” created in the darkroom by shining light directly onto photosensitive paper. There are pictures relating to human sexuality and images from nature. Each subject and approach is an ongoing concern left intentionally open-ended, and never contained within a single project, title or grouping. They are all inseparable in his own mind, free from categories or a finite series of pictures.

“I am aware that these art historical categories exist in my oeuvre, but I’m not seeking them out,” Tillmans explained after the walk-through. His practice is not about “working through one series or genre and then moving on to another.”

Installation view of Wolfgang Tillmans’ “Keep Movin’” at Regen Projects.

(Evan Bedford / Regen Projects)

On his trip to Los Angeles, Tillmans made a long-planned visit to the Mt. Wilson Observatory to satisfy his lifelong interest in astronomy. He used the giant telescope to capture the twinkling of Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. This preoccupation resurfaces at Regen in a large-scale print of 2023’s “Flight Honolulu to Guam,” revealing a star field above the clouds.

Tillmans’ interest in stargazing goes back to his adolescence, and images of the moon and cosmos recur in his work. “It gave me a sense of not being lonely, seeing the infinite sky and universe,” he says. “I always felt it was a very grounding experience that all humans share. I always got something from this — besides the beauty and the formal marvel of it all — this sense of location and locating myself.”

His depiction of the heavens is just one of many threads and themes that run through his decades of work.

A piece of work personally hung by photographer Wolfgang Tillmans in his current exhibition, “Keep Movin’” at Regen Projects.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Early in his career, Tillmans began shooting for the British street style magazine i-D, creating portraits of the famous and unfamous, while also documenting club life and gay culture. In 1995, Taschen published his first book, which made a stir with portraits of soft, indirect illumination, emphasizing naturalness. By avoiding the dramatic lighting and exaggerated special effects often seen in pictures of youth culture, he landed on a distinctive visual style.

“I felt the heaviness of life and the joy of life,” Tillmans says. “I saw myself as a multifaceted complex being, not just as young. So I experimented with lighting and film — how can I photograph my contemporaries in a way that approximates the way that I see through my eyes? And that was stripping back anything effectful, almost taking away the camera.”

He continues to do assignment work for magazines, which he considers part of his artistic practice. Several recent portraits are at Regen, including a foundry worker in Tillmans’ hometown of Remscheid and another of actor Jodie Foster. The editorial work brings him into contact with people and places he might not otherwise meet.

In 2000 Tillmans became the first photographer and first non-British artist to win the prestigious Turner Award. Tate Britain staged his mid-career retrospective in 2003 and the Hammer Museum in Westwood mounted his first major U.S. retrospective that same year, which traveled to Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art and the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden in Washington, D.C.

Coming after major retrospectives at the Pompidou Centre in Paris last year and the Museum of Modern Art, New York City, in 2022, the Regen show dispenses with the retrospective frame while quietly performing a similar task — taking in the main currents of Tillmans’ work over the past two decades, and a few images dating to the late ‘80s. His relationship with the gallery began with his first Los Angeles exhibition.

Visitors walk through photographer Wolfgang Tillmans’ exhibition, “Keep Movin’,” at Regen Projects in Los Angeles.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

As ever, the images are displayed in a startling range of shapes and sizes: framed and unframed, huge wall-size prints hang alongside tiny, snapshot-scale pictures. One of the largest, “Panorama, left” (2006), spans nearly 20 feet and hangs only from bulldog clips. Smaller pictures are simply taped to the wall, but nothing is meant to indicate hierarchy.

“The biggest may not be the most important, and the smallest might be overlooked,” he explains. “It’s a little bit like projecting the way that I look at the world.”

In his first decade of exhibitions, he had no frames at all. “I taped those photographs to the wall, not as a gesture of disrespectful grunginess, but as a gesture of purity,” he adds. “That sense of immediacy — and not imbuing something with outside signifiers of value — lets the fragile piece of paper speak for itself.”

One of the current show’s larger conceptual pieces, “Memorial for the Victims of Organized Religion II,” fills a corner with 48 rectangular portrait-sized photographs, all of them solid black or dark blue. It’s a near-replica of a work shown at the Pompidou with the same solemn title, created to recognize those “physically maimed or mentally harmed” by doctrine and intolerance.

“I myself have a spiritual side,” says Tillmans, still grateful for positive experiences attending a Lutheran church in his youth. “But over the years I’ve become ever more distrustful of organized religions and seeing the role of religion in government. I find it incredibly immodest for humans to tell other humans what God wants.”

When he’s not exploring his spirituality and creativity visually, he focuses his energy on the music world. It’s a natural setting for Tillmans, who is increasingly active releasing his own electronic-based pop music. He’s occasionally worked as a DJ, and has been involved in acid house, techno and other electronic music. Despite his notoriety in the art world, he has no concern about hitting the charts.

“This is part of my work. I’m doing it the same way that I’m doing a photograph. I’m not doing a photograph to be peak popular in two months’ time,” Tillmans said. “It’s there and it’s still there in 24 years.”