Interview with Alex auder
Photos by Cherry Handforth
Interview by Daniela Rodriguez and Cherry Handforth
In her memoir Don't Call Me Home, Alex chronicles her turbulent relationship with her Andy-Warhol-Superstar mother, Viva Superstar. In the opening pages of Don't Call Me Home, we learn that, according to Viva, her Vegas wedding with french filmmaker Michel Auder only occurred "because [Jane] Fonda suggested it". It's funny, then, that in those same pages, Alex describes, in detail, the film her father Michel made of her birth, groans and all. She goes on to explain how Viva had originally planned to abort her but missed the appointment because she got too stoned. Alex quickly makes it apparent that her early years, which she spent in the midst of the quintessential Lower Manhattan art scene of the 80s, were anything but ordinary: excursions with older men, movie auditions, and cousin sexcapades included. I was excited to step into Alex's world, literally, when we met in the bar of The Chelsea Hotel, where we were promptly seated with the drinks menu.
Alex
What kind of cocktails are you girls gonna get?
Daniela
Is it okay if I start recording?
Alex
Oh yeah, yeah, okay.
Cherry
What's a 1:40 pm cocktail?
Alex
I guess a martini? I actually never drink martinis but I really like tequila. I think I might get some fries too because if I just have a cocktail I'm going to get a headache. At this age you have to really manage your alcoholism, you know?
Alex
I'm just going to get fries for $16. Imagine we got caviar for $195. So what drinks are you girls going to get? The Viva Superstar?
Daniela
They have that?
Alex
Yeah, they fucking have that and it's like $30. It's really nasty shit. I don't like it. I'll show you. * flips page in menu* The Viva Superstar, $32. Gin. Passion fruit.
Everyone
Wow
Alex
That's why I want to stick my mom on them and have her constantly call them and harass them, you know? To give her a cut of the Superstar.
Daniela
She's the most expensive.
Alex
She really is. *Continues to read the drinks on the menu* The Eddie—this is so crazy because you know, she basically died an alcoholic. It's really insane.
Everyone
Oh, wow.
Alex
It's so fucked up, I know.
Daniela
I would read your book on the subway when I would go to work—I would hang out with you on the subway every day.
Alex
That really means a lot to me.
Daniela
And then I would get in trouble at work for reading the book, as well.
Alex
Oh my god. I mean, I don't want you to get in trouble! Sometimes I would be on the 800th draft, and I'm like, What is this? It's so boring, you know? And so when people say they actually did feel that it was a page turner, that means so much to me.
Daniela
No, it was not boring. It was really fun.
Alex
In one of the drafts, there was a lot more subway stuff, but a lot of shit had to end up on the cutting room floor, you know?
Daniela
Yeah, I was wondering about that. I saw a video about the subway during the eighties and it made me think about how you never really mentioned anything about it.
Alex
I know, I had much more subway stuff. I think it's funny because sometimes I can't even remember what's still left in there. I think it's briefly mentioned when I'm with my friend Rebecca—we would do these tricks on the subway where we would go into two different cars and then pretend we knew each other. But there was much more of taking the subway to Central Park and waiting in the subway for your friend to get off because, you know, we didn't have cell phones.
Daniela
What other stories didn't make it into the book?
Alex
There was a lot more about "The River", I sometimes call it. Also called The Thousand Islands, that family house up on the St. Lawrence River near Canada. In other drafts, there was, honestly, probably another hundred pages of those stories. The original version that I wrote in college, which I called "fiction", took place at that location for probably half the book.
Alex
Almost every section of the book would be here at The Chelsea and then, after those early years when we're traveling around, we would go to The Thousand Islands. Each chapter ended with a scene in The Thousand Islands. In the third part of this book, we don't really go back to the Thousand Islands. I think the last Thousand Islands section is pre-puberty, where I'm like fucking around with my cousin and my grandma calls me a whore.
Alex
In the other version, I'd go back to when Grandma's getting Alzheimer's and there's just much more about the family as I'm older and revisiting Thousand Islands, but I just couldn't fit it in. It just didn't work because I had word counts that I had no clue about when I sold the book. It's this whole weird, made up fucking system in the publishing industry where memoirs can be no longer than 90,000 words. With that said, I do think it was a better book for being shorter. But my first draft was 145,000 words. No one ever told me there was a word count. I didn't even know you could see the word count on the computer.
Alex
I wish there was one more visit to Thousand Islands in the last part, but it couldn't happen. And then there's certain things like when somebody who knows my family said, "Oh yeah, your grandfather pulled a shotgun on me" and then there were all these scenes with a shotgun. I would have these weird things in the middle of the night where I'm like, I should have made sure I mentioned him with a shotgun because that says so much about him. I'd get stuck on an OCD loop but then I'm like, You have to fucking let it go. The book is out there. There's no shotgun.
Daniela
Would you write something else about that?
Alex
I thought that. Maybe, if I'm still alive in 20 years, I'll go back. But as of now, I just have to let it go. I spent my whole life with that story. I gotta move on. Like, tonight at the reading at Artists Space I'm not reading from the book. I'm reading a new thing.
Daniela
What's that about?
Alex
It's about life in the West Village with a person I'm not allowed to name, who sort of takes the place of my mother. I'm going out on a limb by reading it, so I'm sort of nervous.
Cherry
What part of your book was your thesis at Bard?
Alex
There's stuff sprinkled all through it from the thesis. The original name was Frogs because of all the frog stuff. It was more lyrical because I was trying to make it more novelistic. There was a lot about hibernation, which is still sort of in there. It's about my emotional reaction to stress—I'm more of a flight person when it comes to fight or flight, so I would kind of make that analogy of the bullfrogs in the Thousand Islands who go underground. It was sort of on the nose, but whatever.
Daniela
How much did the book change from your thesis, especially after becoming a mother?
Alex
I had changed it to nonfiction at some point just after becoming a mother, when Louis was only one year old. It wasn't until the final draft that I wrote a few years ago when I sold the book, that I decided to do these present-day-sections with the reflection of me now. I think that being a mom is what really pulled everything together. In the old days when I got rejected by so many people, a lot of the feedback was, "Who is the narrator? Who is Alex?" I do think I was hiding a bit and maybe letting the stories obfuscate myself. I was probably protecting my mother on many levels. Like, I was trying to tell this sweet, lyrical story, but that's not what people want from a memoir, right? And I love memoirs that don't do this as well, but in order to sell a memoir, one has to have some kind of radical honesty or transformation. So, I think in this last version of it, I finally found that kind of key into the narrative, which had to do with me being this age as a mother.
Daniela
How did you let go of that protectiveness?
Alex
I'm not sure. I think it might be dissociation and compartmentalization. It wasn't until it was already out and in bookstores when I was like, Oh fuck. And then my mom is mad and says it's like a stab in the heart and barely talks to me. My sister was like, "I'm so scared for when the book comes out. I love it so much, it's amazing, but I'm really scared." I was like, Huh…I wonder why? I think because of my childhood it's a survival technique, where I'm just like, Don't know, don't care, out of sight, out of mind. I just texted my mom for the first time in a while. I gave her an "I love you" text on Thanksgiving. She wrote something nasty back. I just tried again for my birthday because I felt bad for her. She wrote a nice text back, but it was a long thing about how the book was a stab in the heart. I have this weird thing where I just want to pretend the book doesn't exist with her. I prefer to pretend like nothing has happened because when someone is so mentally dysregulated you can't try to hash out the past, even though they keep trying to. So for my mother, none of the book is true. And I am tempted to be like, "Well, give me some pointers. What isn't the truth?" When I go down that path, it's a real mistake. I end up basically screaming at her via text and then blocking her. So I don't respond to it. I have to keep it at a real surface level. She's like, "I'll send you a cashmere sweater." "Oh great." "What color?" "Black." "Maybe not black." "It's really practical." "Oh, you're right. Well, my mother said you can't wear black at a certain age, but you're still beautiful, you know that."
Cherry
Has she read it?
Alex
I only know she's read it from Facebook, and I guess from this text. She's never said anything positive to me or congratulated me.
Daniela
What about your dad?
Alex
Oh, Dad's totally opposite. He's coming tonight. Dad's like, "I love it. Amazing. You're so cool." He comes to the readings. When I would be like, "Dad, I need this information about this thing", he'd send it to me right away. He has, and I hate saying this, what one needs to be a functioning artist, which is no shame. He's like, "I'm an artist. You're an artist. Here you go, we're making shit." And he doesn't have any defensiveness about his character. So a lot of the women are like, "Oh, you're so kind to your father and he gets the free pass." But on some level, I feel like, well, yeah, he gets it because he's not holding me to task about some version of the past that he wants to hold on to. So, because he's so supportive of the Alex I am now, yeah, he does get a free pass. He doesn't ask anything of me. I don't ask anything of him. That's how I prefer it.
Daniela
Did you write the book on Word or Google Docs?
Alex
For the final, I worked mostly on Google and sometimes Pages, which I'm actually most familiar with, embarrassingly. When I sent it to the editor the first time, of course they wanted it on Word.
Daniela
Oh, so Word's preferred.
Alex
Oh, yeah. Word's definitely preferred. You know, you can export Pages as Word, but it actually changes things a little bit in a weird way. And so, when they would export Word back to me before I actually got Word, I realized I was missing a lot of fucking shit when my editor would edit stuff out. I was doing stuff really backwards. I probably wasted like hours and hours at the end of the day.
Daniela
What was the process like trying to find someone to publish your book?
Alex
Really long. Like, honestly, a lifetime, because I started way back with the original thing. I probably was rejected over a dozen times by agents and by publishers over the course of twenty years. Eventually I did get an agent, a young, lovely woman at a big lit agency called Janklow and Nesbit, and she just knew the ropes. With a memoir you generally submit a proposal, meaning you're not showing them the full manuscript. So they buy it on proposal—obviously there's a fuck ton of writing in the proposal; proposals are like eighty pages. But my agent put it all together and we actually got blurbs for the proposal: whoever you know that's a writer or famous person you get to write blurbs for your proposal. It's a whole fucking new process. Then, the agent sends it out to different editors and publishing houses, and then you wait and pray. Then you get a call, which I think of as an audition—they said it's not an audition and that you're auditioning them, but they're definitely auditioning you—and you do your call with the editor. Then you basically wait to see if there's an offer.
Alex
It's so funny to see The Chelsea style in this fancy place.
Daniela
Yeah, it's so weird. What are your thoughts on them turning The Chelsea into a luxury boutique hotel?
Alex
I'm really annoyed, but I also of course love it, because I'm totally a luxury whore. But also I'm really annoyed about the Viva Superstar cocktail. I mean, my mom hates if I say she's broke in a shack, but she basically is. It's just the way of the fucking world, you know?
Daniela
Do you feel territorial?
Alex
Totally. When I first came here to the bar, I was like, "Oh, The Viva Superstar! I guess I should get a free cocktail", but the bartender, was just like, "Who is this fucking old hag? I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
Daniela
Did you tell them that was your mom?
Alex
I did, but then you just feel like an asshole.
Daniela
I guess, but your book is technically press. I guess they already have enough press.
Alex
Okay, do you want to know the story?
Daniela
Yes
Alex
It's kind of boring, but Rachelle—who is a lovely woman and the wife of the guy who did all this, Sean McPherson, who owns this and also owns the chain—and I have been friends forever. We don't hang out one-on-one, but I'm just saying we have some intimate connections. So I contacted them to do my launch party here, in these rooms, and their special deal for me to do my book launch party about The Chelsea—guess the price.
Daniela
Ten thousand?
Alex
Yeah.
Daniela
Really? Wow. I guess that makes sense.
Alex
And to get that price it took a really long time. The first quote—their event planner who was a woman who knew nothing about anything—literally quoted much more than that. The publishing company pays for nothing because I'm not a famous writer. At the end of the day, they did actually put me up in this hotel for two nights, which was a lot of money. You know, I just find it outrageous that they are using those images on their website and can't even fucking acknowledge the one woman of this age who really grew up here. People say they grew up here, but they just lived here for a couple of years. They were like, you can have the Bard room; Stanley Bard is the old lamb that everybody loves. He was also kind of a cock in my book, who would yell at me about the rent.
Daniela
Oh, yes.
Alex
But also, whatever, cool. They're like, you can have the Bard room for $1,500. And that would basically just be us in that room, no food, nothing. We would have to bring our own food. Cash bar. I was like, "Oh, you want me to pay $1,500 for an empty fucking room? Named after the guy who abused me when I was a kid?"
Daniela
So The Chelsea Hotel does not honor—
Alex
Oh, no. Absolutely not.
Daniela
They just profit.
Alex
They profit.
Daniela
And they have those little plaques outside. It's like Disney World.
Alex
You know, there's a funny—we should go out to the hallway. Oh, I should check the time actually.
Daniela
It's 2:30.
Alex
Oh, perfect.
Daniela
Do you want to walk around and give us a tour?
Alex
Okay, let's do it. There's a really funny thing where my mom—I actually say this in the book—blacked out her face on this press clipping and they still have it on one of the floors, so we should go upstairs.
Daniela
Oh, okay, yes! Also, I wanted to ask about you growing up in front of your dad's camera; from the moment you entered the world, you were someone else's art. Now, of course this is different, but I wanted to know your opinion on those vloggers who document their children as content for YouTube or TikTok. I know that in the beginning of the book you mention how your earliest memories are intertwined with his videos. I'm just curious to know what your thoughts are on how that could impact a generation of children who are growing up with it more intensely.
Alex
I know, I know. I thought about that too. And I think somebody mentioned—in terms of my father's relationship to Jonas Mekas—that they were the original reality TV, in the sense that—also, you know, Stan Brakhage—they were using the family in this diaristic way. I know that the artist Larry Rivers—there's one of his paintings in here—was really good friends with my dad and I was friends with his daughters growing up and they have feelings about being used as subjects in Larry's art. I don't have that at all. I don't know why. And again, maybe it's my dissociation, but I feel more honored. I love my dad's work and I love my mom's work and that's what sort of brings me back to what I was saying about my dad honoring that with me. I'm like, Yes, use me. I'm happy to be a character in your work, mom and dad, and I hope you feel vice versa—which my dad does, but not my mom. I feel like, looking at it as is right now with the Instagram situation—it's a simulacrum, you know? It's a little bit of a splitting hair situation on some level. But I guess...I'm not sure how to articulate it. I do see a big difference between the Instagram parents using their children and, again, sorry for using the word, but the artist using their children. And I guess what I will say is I don't find that the Instagram parent is an artist, you know?
Daniela
Definitely.
Alex
Because I guess it is a commodity. And yes, we could say that Michelle and Brakhage and Mekas might have been commodified if we are really splitting hairs—any content we choose is going to be a commodity—but this new situation is certainly…I don't see the artistry in it. I see it as a sexualization of the kids.
Daniela
Yes
Alex
And I find it really chilling. I try not to be so old fashioned and judgy because I know we have to honor the modern thing that's happening, but I do feel really judgy about it.
Daniela
Obviously, you have to document your own memories, your own family. Did it have an effect on how you documented your children?
Alex
Oh yeah, it definitely did. I'm really protective of my kids and had Lui read the final draft and my husband read the pre-final draft to see if they wanted to make changes. And there were a couple things where my husband was like, maybe this makes someone sound a little weird or something.
Daniela
Were they the only people?
Alex
Well, my sister, my daughter, my husband, and my dad were the only people who read the early draft, but I didn't tell my dad he could change anything. To my husband, sister, and daughter, I said, "Whatever you want to change, tell me." I knew my dad wouldn't give a shit.
Alex
It's so funny because, you know, my apartment was up there.
Daniela
Oh, wait, which one?
Alex
It was on the 7th floor, on this side of the building. But, you know, in the old days, this was an alleyway behind the El Quijote, so this is where I would drop shit down.
Alex
The sinks feel delicious. It's actually really comfortable. It's weird because it cups my ass, it's awesome.
Daniela
Does the bathroom look the same?
Alex
No. None of this was here. If this was here, I'd literally live in here.
Alex
When we stayed here for the book launch I went to the room. But way back when, years ago, it was Ethan Hawke's apartment as well and it was totally renovated.
Daniela
I was doing research about The Chelsea and learned about Room 100….
Alex
Oh, Sid Vicious? Yeah, so I used to do some seances down there. I mean, I did it like two times but with a Ouija board and stuff. I didn't really understand who he was or what it was so one time I thought it said heroin, like the drug, but the Ouija board spelled it wrong. It said "heroine", like the woman, spelled with an "E" at the end. But, I mean, I think we were making it do that. We just didn't know how to spell heroin.
Daniela
Haha. So you weren't in the hotel when that happened?
Alex
I've actually looked this up before and tried to figure it out. I think it was after I was born, but before we moved back. But it was definitely a thing; people talked about it.
Alex
Okay, so this was the key shoot and each one had a latch that opened and people put their keys in here and it would end up by the operator's booth. I would put Barbie doll heads and raw eggs in there. I don't know why people would have to put their keys down here. It doesn't totally make sense, but we called it the key shoot.
Daniela
Would people be hanging out in the staircase?
Alex
Oh, yeah. People were coming up and down all the time. This is what I called the green elevator. This one was the gold one. They were two different colors. Oh, there's the thing we're looking for. It's up on the next floor.
Daniela
As a little kid, were you aware of how culturally significant the scene was that you were growing up in?
Alex
Actually, super little. When we moved back here—around when I went to LaGuardia High School—that's when I started to realize people would be like, "You live in The Chelsea? Oh, let us come over!" That's when I became aware. But I did have a sense that it was cool.
Alex
Okay, so this is it. Look, so my mom got really mad and crossed everything out about her. I'm glad they still have it. *Pointing at the image* That's Gaby. This used to be by what I called "the desk partition". And my mom was like, "Fucking asshole. I don't want Stanley to use my image."
Cherry
It's funny that she crossed it out with something you can still read through.
Alex
This is like 30 years old, so it's slowly worn off, but it used to be dark purple. I love that they still have it. And I guess they made some kind of reproduction. Yeah, Gaby was eleven, so this is thirty years old now.
Daniela
What made you not want to pursue acting like your sister?
Alex
Well, I think I wanted to, I just didn't have as much success.
Daniela
Did you ever get a little jealous?
Alex
No, she was so much younger than me, so we never would have been up for the same part. She's eleven years younger than me. I mean, now I might, but back then I didn't. I had a real cache in the audition world, because you get to know the casting directors in whatever area you're in. Honestly, I just had this thing where I couldn't be bothered to drive down to Manhattan to do auditions and I was more interested in my freedom at Bard. I kind of just let it go. I was more interested in academics and also my social circle.
Daniela
But you still act, right?
Alex
I do if someone asks me, but I don't go seeking.
Daniela
Do you think your book is going to get a movie deal?
Alex
I would like for it to, just for financial reasons, but it's not that much money it turns out. Unless it became like a big movie, which it rarely does. There's been an offer, but it's really pathetic. It's like 10,000 dollars. I'm sort of waiving and seeing.
Daniela
Should we go up to your room?
Alex
Sure, you want to take the elevator or walk up?
Daniela
Elevator sounds good.
Alex
This was our room. It was room 710. Do you remember in the book where we chopped a wall down?
Daniela
Yes.
Alex
Yeah, so this is the room where the wall was chopped down. It was just a single room and there was a bathroom out here that my old friend, Sydney, would use.
Daniela
You should knock.
Alex
I'll just do it. The layout doesn't make sense to me now because I guess they got rid of the bathroom and connected the room. Hello? I'm so sorry to bug you. I was just revisiting—I grew up here and I didn't know you would actually answer the door. Is this a one room, or does it connect to the other apartment? No, it doesn't connect. Okay, thanks. Sorry, thanks for answering. Can we come and take a shower with you? Yeah, sorry. Next time.
Daniela
Very cool.
Alex
Oh, look, this is what I would do. These were electric boxes, and I used to fuck with people and turn the electricity off. I would fuck with these two bands in the building and then I would hear people saying "Fuck! Shit!"
Daniela
There's just so much opportunity to prank here.
Alex
I would still do it right now. Fifty three must sound so old to you guys, but I would still just spend my days doing pranks.
Daniela
Pranks are my favorite pastime. What makes someone a superstar?
Alex
I don't know. I was going to say not caring about being a superstar or really caring about being a superstar—I'm not sure which one. Perhaps not being afraid to speak your mind, but these days I'm not sure. It seems people like that even though they say you shouldn't.