Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Ersatzkaffeelesen
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Sina Dell’Anno
Punk / Philologie
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Zoran Terzić
Die Verallgemeinerung des Menschen
Mengia Tschalaer
Queere Räume
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – oder: die ekstatische Agonie des Erscheinens
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 6
Jean-Luc Nancy
Nach den Avantgarden
Hans Block, Moritz Riesewieck
Was wir nicht sehen
Michael Heitz
Wong Pings "Who’s the Daddy"
Alexander García Düttmann
Kalte Distanz
Johannes Binotto
Shrewing the tame
Zoran Terzić
Politische Transplantate
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Fiktionen von Heimat
A.K. Kaiza
Eine kommentierte Geschichte Wakandas
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Maël Renouard
Fragmente eines unendlichen Gedächtnisses
Wolfgang Plöger
After This Comes That Before That Comes This
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 3
Alexander García Düttmann
Kann es eine Gesellschaft ohne Feier geben oder Die kritische Frage des Theaters
Artur Zmijewski
Gespräch über ‚Glimpse‘
Eric Baudelaire
Abecedarium
Mário Gomes
Poetik der Architektur
Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau
Über Realismus
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 5
Damian Christinger
Huelsenbeck (Book)
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 4
What do I remember? My memories of my life have always been very limited. I only remember single fragments, good...
A Little Paris Nightmare
I loved Paris, even as a little boy, long before I lived there. I was like Pinocchio...
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
…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…
Gedanklich-sinnliche Küchenzettel, Aufzählungen und Auslesen…
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
Apfel oder Zitrone? Remembering, what do you hear? Wie sterben? Nord oder Süd? A question to which “yes” is always your answer?
Meine Sprache
Deutsch
Aktuell ausgewählte Inhalte
Deutsch
»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.