User account

Magazine

Content
Exodus. Gods and Kings . . . . . 12 Feb 2011 — 12 Feb 2017 . . . . . Quaddie . . . . . Self-portrait . . . . . Artificial and Other Intelligences . . . . . BIG BUGS . . . . . Michael Heitz . Noch ein neuer Gott in Teilen . . . . . Custom Creates Law . . . . . Mike Wilson . Rockabilly . . . . . Mário Gomes . Brandsatz & Ästhetik . . . . . Paradox I: That all things kill themselves . . . . . Charlemagne Rides through Paris . . . . . TWELVE DRUMMERS DRUMMING . . . . . Tyler Coburn . Ergonomic Futures . . . . . Barbara Basting — The Algorithm and I . . . . . Je me souviens… . . . . . Boutiques on the Bosporus . . . . . This is not your blood. . . . . . Hermal . . . . . American English . . . . . Problem IX: Warum haben Hurenkinder das allermeiste Glück? . . . . . I remember . . . . . HER . . . . . Facebook’s Just a Nail Studio . . . . . 12 May 2011 – 12 May 2017: On Non-Digital Storage Media . . . . . How to Pilot an Aeroplane . . . . . LISTMANIA . . . . . GUANAJUATONOVIEMBRE . . . . . Pierre Guyotat . Unabhängigkeit . . . . . ABT. DIE DUEMMSTEN BERLINER FRISÖRNAMEN . . . . . Pierre Guyotat . The Prison . . . . . Marcus Quent . Ohne Halt . . . . . Peter Ott . Die monotheistische Zelle oder Berichte aus der Fiktion . . . . . Donatien Grau, Pierre Guyotat . Conversation . . . . . Behind the Great Firewall . . . . . THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CLOUD NAMES . . . . . I remember… . . . . . Ute Holl . Dream, Clouds, Off, Exile . . . . . China frisst Menschen . . . . . I remember . . . . . L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée . . . . . The Transversal Shelf of Printed Books in Times of Accelerated Opaque Media . . . . . Ich erinnere mich… . . . . . Human Oddities . . . . . Julien Maret . IN EXTREMIS . . . . . Peter Ott . The Monotheistic Cell Or Reports from Fiction . . . . . Michael Heitz . Another New God in Parts . . . . . Mike Wilson . Rockabilly . . . . . Marcus Quent . No Respite

Magazine Subscription

  • 4 Issues

    Magazine issues + Basic Digital + gift

  • DIAPHANES bag »Shut your eyes and read!«

    gift: DIAPHANES bag »Shut your eyes and read!«

    Cotton bag with long loop handles, bottom and side gusset: 38 x 42 cm, handles 70 cm

  • Our subscriptions include postage and are automatically extended on expiry. You will be informed two weeks prior to renewed deduction at the latest. Subscriptions can be canceled at any time up to 1 week before expiry.

 

We like !
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 8/9
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 5
DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 4

 

Luzia Gast, 09.06.2023

Nicht zuletzt die 2016 abgeschlossene Restaurierung hatte die These gestützt, dass es sich bei Hieronymus Boschs venezianischem Triptychon um die...

Drag-nets

Luc Meresma, 26.10.2018

It may be due to the simple design of this dust jacket, which gives no indication of genre, and to...

Honoré Daumier: Don Quixote lisant

Miguel Tamen, 10.04.2018

The Nonexistent Giotto
A picture may announce the future not in the sense that it refers to any future events...

BELISAR by François Gérard

Christine Tauber, 13.12.2017

Although contemporaries attested Romantic ­qualities to François Gérard’s Belisar, it didn’t appeal to the arch-Romantic Delacroix: “The fortune of a...

Other columns

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

Editionen