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
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Dan-el Padilla Peralta
Junk Philology. An Anti-Commentary
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
A. L. Kennedy
What is an Author?
Sandra Frimmel
I Hate the Avant-garde
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Malte Fabian Rauch
Where the Negative Holds Court
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the Tame
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Malte Fabian Rauch
Phenomena in Exile
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
A.K. Kaiza
An Annotated History of Wakanda
Maria Filomena Molder
The Alms of Time
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Marcus Quent
Elapsing Time and Belief in the World
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Jurij Pavlovich Annenkov
A Diary of my Encounters
Alexander García Düttmann
Can There Be a Society Without Ceremony or the Critical Question of Theatre
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Damian Christinger
Huelsenbeck (Book)
Peter Ott
The Monotheistic Cell Or Reports from Fiction
The Transversal Shelf of Printed Books in Times of Accelerated Opaque Media
Pierre Guyotat
Autoportrait
Aya Momose
Questionnaire Aya Momose
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...
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
Raucous time capsules, rare jewels, and indispensable bulky goods from all epochs, languages, and genres.
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.