Candy Pratts Price

In Brazil, a brutalist skyline set against tropical greenery pulses with life. My first stop on a whirlwind tour of the country’s south coast starts at Hotel Fasano São Paolo. With interiors designed by Marcio Kogan, the hotel immediately feels warm and inviting, a world away from the bustle outside. The 21st-floor marble-encased pool is a 1920s Art Deco dream that overlooks the city. As I recline in one of the Hans Wegner chairs, it is hard to pull myself away to explore.

Winter 2024 Art Commissions February 14, 2025 8:00 AM There is a private, far away world that artists return to time and time again. Its parameters, molded in childhood and chiseled away in practice. Like the natural landscape, it is always shifting, eroding, and regenerating anew. We can see it, too, eyes closed: a snow capped mountain, an ancient organism, our body, cosmic. Eyes open, gaze fixed, it is a coil on a vine, a statue, light streaming from a window.

Precious Okoyomon is mid-call as I slip into their Porsche Cayenne. Their jet-black hair is slicked down, and a coffee-brown bodysuit clings to their frame under an oversize chocolate-colored jacket. Gravity, their 3-year-old familiar, curls into my lap with instinctive tenderness. His body nuzzles against me as his parent deftly weaves through traffic. ‍ We’re teetering on the edge of lateness for an SLT Pilates class, but neither of us is particularly rushed.