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Christopher Perez

Visiting Professor

Side Profile of Christopher Perez with a water body in the background.
Email
cperez25@pratt.edu
Phone
718.687.5770
Website
Personal Website
Pronouns
He/Him/His

Christopher Rey Pérez is a poet from the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. His first book, gauguin’s notebook, received the 2015 Madeleine P. Plonsker Prize from Lake Forest College. Forthcoming are Fayuca, a book on markets and movement, with diSONARE Editorial in Mexico City, and Future Tourism, a chapbook with Sputnik & Fizzle on love, travel, and class. He edited Aliens Beyond Paradise/Alienígenas más allá del paraíso (Wendy’s Subway, ‘19) and is the author of several chapbooks, pamphlets, and artist books.

He has led poetry workshops with Ashkal Alwan’s Home Workspace Program, The Garden Library for Refugees & Migrant Workers in South Tel Aviv, Beta-Local’s La Iván Illich, Queens Museum, Wendy’s Subway, & Loudreaders Trade School.  With Gabriel Finotti, he publishes the multilingual and nomadic bookwork, Dolce Stil Criollo. He also forms part of Post-Novis, an alternative project of architectural education and practice.

MFA, 2012, Writing, Milton Avery Graduate School of the Arts at Bard College

BA, 2009, English, University of Texas at Austin

Gauguin’s Notebook, &Now Books, 2017: https://nupress.northwestern.edu/9781941423967/gauguins-notebook/

Reynosa, The Elephants, 2018: https://theelephants.net/ephemera/reynosa

Aliens Beyond Paradise/Alienígenas más allá del paraíso, Wendy’s Subway, 2019: http://www.wendyssubway.com/publishing/titles/aliens-beyond-paradise

The Planetary Wretched: A Post-colonial Narrative Architecture Poetry Book, Urbana-Champaign: Illinois Architecture, 2021: https://www.design.iastate.edu/bookshelf/the-planetary-wretched/

Dolce Stil Criollo 4: Border Theatrics, Sometimes-Always, 2021:
https://www.dolcestilcriollo.com/

Uninhabitable Places to Feel Where I Was Carrying My Head, Center of Tropical Malaise, 2022: https://www.taxonomicambiguity.com/essays/uninhabitable-places-to-feel-where-i-was-carrying-my-head