Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
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
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philology
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philologie
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – or, The Ecstatic Agony of Appearance
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – oder: die ekstatische Agonie des Erscheinens
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Zoran Terzić
The Grand Generalization
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Jean-Luc Nancy
Nach den Avantgarden
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
What we don’t see
Axel Dielmann
Die Schneiderin
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Uma’s Face—Thurman’s Voice
Thomas Huber
Generation of the Lynn Hershman Antibody
Helmut J. Schneider
How Distant Can My Neighbor be?
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Maria Filomena Molder
Die Almosen der Zeit
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Stephen Barber
A War of Fragments: World Versus America
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Artur Zmijewski
Gespräch über ‚Glimpse‘
Mário Gomes
Poetik der Architektur
Stephen Barber
Futurama Nights, October 1978
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
On Realism
Artur Zmijewski
Conversation on “Glimpse”
Haus am Gern
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée (Blog1)
Marcus Quent
Ohne Halt
Kommt ein Polizist zu einem Mann, der beschuldigt wird, seinen kleinen Sohn zu Tode geschüttelt zu haben. Wie ist denn das passiert?, will der Polizist wissen. So!, gibt der Mann...
Bearded Ladies, Dwarfs and Giants, Hermaphrodites, Siamese Twins (see Heng and Chang on the book cover), the Mule-headed Lady, The Serpent-Woman, The Amazing Half-Boy (famous for his appearance in...
Das Foto mit der Frau auf dem Fahrrad wiederholt sich auf der Rückseite. Etwas ist anders, der Mund geschlossen, der Bildausschnitt leicht nach links verrückt. »American English«: Als Tableaus inszenierte...
DIAPHANES fragt nach Relikten von Zukunftsvisionen in den Bildräumen der Vergangenheit, nach Spuren und Signaturen eines einst Vorstellbaren und zeitlos Möglichen.
Der Post, den ich hiermit teile, hat mich leicht verstört: »Barbara ist Facebook vor 6 Jahren beigetreten«!
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
Gedanklich-sinnliche Küchenzettel, Aufzählungen und Auslesen…
I said “Would you like a rope? You know that haul you have is not secured properly.”
“No,” he said, “but I see you have string!”
“If this comes into motion—” I said, “you should use a rope.”
“Any poison ivy on that? ” he asked me, and I told him my rope had been in the barn peacefully for years.
He took a length of it to the bedside table. He had no concept for what wood could endure.
“Table must have broken when I lashed it onto the truck,” he said.
And, when he was moving the sewing machine, he let the cast iron wheels—bang, bang on the stair.
I had settled down to pack up the flamingo cookie jar, the cutlery, and the cookware, but stopped briefly, for how many times do you catch sudden sight of something heartfelt?
I saw our milk cows in their slow...
Meine Sprache
Deutsch
Aktuell ausgewählte Inhalte
Deutsch, Englisch, Französisch
»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.