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. Lars von Trier in Conversation with Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone . . . . . Alexander García Düttmann . Kalte Distanz . . . . . Michael Heitz . Wong Pings "Who’s the Daddy" . . . . . I remember . . . . . Andreas L. Hofbauer . Joch . . . . . Behind the Great Firewall . . . . . Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck . Was wir nicht sehen . . . . . Christian Beetz, Hendrik Rohlf . Katalysatoren der Radikalisierung . . . . . Ines Kleesattel . Kunst, junge Mädchen und die ästhetische Freiheit untenrum . . . . . Johannes Binotto . Shrewing the tame . . . . . Malte Fabian Rauch . Phenomena in Exile . . . . . Corona Park, Hub of theWorld . . . . . Barbara Basting . Der Algorithmus und ich 8 . . . . . Charlemagne Rides through Paris . . . . . Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf . Umas Gesicht – Thurmans Stimme . . . . . Artificial and Other Intelligences . . . . . Sina Dell’Anno . Oratio Soluta . . . . . Sylvia Sasse . Operative Zensur . . . . . Drag-nets . . . . . Axel Dielmann . Die Schneiderin . . . . . Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck . What we don’t see . . . . . Johannes Binotto . Shrewing the Tame . . . . . Ines Kleesattel . Art, Girls, and Aesthetic Freedom Down Below . . . . . Sina Dell’Anno . Oratio Soluta . . . . . Michael Heitz . Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy" . . . . . . Lars von Trier im Gespräch mit Mehdi Belhaj Kacem & Raphaëlle Milone . . . . . Axel Dielmann . The Dressmaker . . . . . Alexander García Düttmann . Cold Distance . . . . . Andreas L. Hofbauer . Yoke . . . . . Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf . Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice

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DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 3

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Trmasan Bruialesi

Lieber Paul 3

DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 1

 

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
  • Barbara Basting — The Algorithm and I

    Barbara Basting — The Algorithm and I

    The post I’m now sharing was somewhat unsettling: “Barbara joined Facebook 6 years ago!”

  • Questionnaire

    Red oder Blue? Welche Götter? What’s wrong with reality? Nord oder Süd? Wie sterben? What is the problem with solutions?

  • John Donne’s Paradoxes and Problems

    John Donne’s Paradoxes and Problems

    …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…

  • FICTIONARY

    FICTIONARY

    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

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