Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Rudi Nuss
The Love in the Convex, in Absolute Roundness and the Sluttification of All Men West of the Bosporus
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 8
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 8
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Malte Fabian Rauch
Where the Negative Holds Court
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Malte Fabian Rauch
Phenomena in Exile
Angelika Meier
Who I Really Am
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 8
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Elena Vogman
Dynamography, or Andrei Bely’s Rhythmic Gesture
Dieter Mersch
Digital Criticism
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Jelili Atiku, Damian Christinger
Venice, Lagos, and the Spaces in between
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Dorothee Scheiffarth
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOUD NAMES
Discoteca Flaming Star
Ich erinnere mich… (Discoteca Flaming Star)
K.A.
Hermal
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 1
On the first gaze the works of Emma Waltraud Howes seem incongruously out of time. Visiting her studio, one enters another world: meets mushrooms and corals, glass artichoke-hand grenades, the...
Nicole Bachmann’s latest work, I say, has the performer practice a text, sense a word in the mouth, calling it forth, and another, repeating, hearing, interrupting, and another, beginning again,...
The project space CORNER COLLEGE in Zurich’s 4th district has for some time now been giving invigorating impulses to both art and theory, and can be recommended to every visitor...
I got to know Tom Kummer in 2006 while editing his book Blow Up in nighttime telephone calls to Los Angeles. We met for the first time at the book...
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
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.
…rather alarms, to truth to arm her than enemies, and they have only this advantage to scape from being called ill things, that they are nothings…
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.
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.