Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
I.V. Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Alexander García Düttmann
Cold Distance
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Beni Bischof
LISTMANIA: BIG BUGS
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Stephen Barber
I remember (Stephen Barber)
La soif
Quand j’étais enfant, près de la maison ou j’habitais, il y avait une voie ferrée. Avant de m'endormir, j’entendais...
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
Ich erinnere mich an gewellte goldene Kornfelder.
Ich erinnere mich an mich; in der Peripherie des Bildes.
Ich erinnere mich an die...
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
Not on any Knowlede’s service this register in progress seeks accumulating entries of imagenables: names, objects, imaginations… singularities, that neither have to be thought nor upon which must be speculated.
We are looking for relics of visions of the future in past image spaces, for the traces and signatures of something once imaginable and timelessly possible.
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
My language
English
Selected content
English
»Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds: in bodies. Then he was aware of them bodies before of them coloured. How? By knocking his sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, MAESTRO DI COLOR CHE SANNO. Limit of the diaphane in. Why in? Diaphane, adiaphane. If you can put your five fingers through it it is a gate, if not a door. Shut your eyes and see.
Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs
marching. No, agallop: DELINE THE MARE.
Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since?
If I open and am for ever in the black adiaphane. BASTA! I will see
if I can see.
See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world
without end.«
James Joyce
Dire works on the bogus regime—not just of art—but endowed with wit, beauty and irresistible fetish character.