Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
I.V. 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
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Felix Stalder
Feedback as Authenticity
Kai van Eikels
Do in What's Doing, Democracy in!
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Claire Fontaine
Towards a Theory of Magic Materialism
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Zoran Terzić
The Tautomaniac
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Ines Kleesattel
Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Zoran Terzić
Political Transplants
Helmut J. Schneider
How Distant Can My Neighbor be?
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Tom Kummer
Questionnaire Tom Kummer
Ann Cotten
Dialogs
Mário Gomes
The Poetics of Architecture
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Tyler Coburn
Quaddie
Luc Meresma
Capt. Norman MacMillan (Book)
Pierre Guyotat
Autoportrait
John Donne
Paradox I
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
So wie geplant kommt es ja selten, meistens ergibt sich etwas halt so. Das ist weniger der Zustand der Welt...
Ich erinnere mich an mein Exemplar von Alles kurz und klein, das weg ist, verschwunden! – wer erinnert sich, es...
The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”
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
Vonceptually sensory bills of fare, enumerations and selections…
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.