
Dangerous Dances
This text finds the intimate affinity between dance and philosophy in the concept of problem and invites the reader to perceive dance and philosophy as a form of ballistics: the art of throwing.
This text finds the intimate affinity between dance and philosophy in the concept of problem and invites the reader to perceive dance and philosophy as a form of ballistics: the art of throwing.
A poetic script, an apocalyptic newspaper, and a syntax of intersected historical narratives. An investigation of an archive of writings previously published in The Lowell Offering, a periodical issued between 1840-1845 by women factory workers in Lowell, Massachusetts.
Design by Daria Kiseleva
This experimental children’s book narrates cross-species practices of survival across the Indonesian archipelago, centring the perspectives of local animals such as endangered monkeys, cosmopolitan rats, migrant sparrows and fugitive dogs. Written in the form of a play, its six episodes ground the readers in the animals’ struggles and aspirations as they go about their daily lives and face the consequences of postcolonial erasure, ecological destruction and capitalist expansion. While the stories unfold, their interconnected existences become an archive of uncertainties, where the fate of many different creatures, humans included, is inseparable from each other.
As a script for intergenerational transmission, the book thoughtfully combines dialogues, songs and drawings, with contextualising essays and extensive notations. Through these different modes of reading, children and adults alike will learn about cross-species solidarity and rebellious movements, but also about disappearing Indigenous cosmologies, and the brave women who wove cloths around the mountains in eco-political resistance.
In 2021, seven Fellows of the postgraduate program of the Berlin University of the Arts (UdK) gathered in despair over the institution’s failings. This publication explores what happens next. It emerges from an experimental process of dialogue and documentation, and tackles questions regarding globalized art production and the dissemination of knowledge. A dense collage of both critique and transformative artistic practices, the book is a unique contribution to the debate on socially engaged art. Just as importantly, it provides a point of reference for artists in comparable situations: those who pursue their work in the face of deadlocked institutions which uphold the status quo despite claiming to do the opposite. It strives to be a helpful pointer for artists who insist nonetheless on their ethical and political prerogatives. Vulnerability and conflict will accompany any such process, inevitably, and our publication does not dissimulate any of these things—even as it charts possible paths beyond them.
With: Adnan Softić, Amelie Jakubek, Ami Lien, Enzo Camacho, Nina Softić, Okhiogbe Omonblanks Omonhinmin, Shehzil Malik and Sonia Hamad
I went to the field; I became many.
Majnoon is an oil field in the global south. Majnoon is also the violence, and the state of mind that survives the violence. How can this be a field guide in any customary sense? Latitudes have been taken. Words are written in disrupted or troubled syntax. Rather, this book proceeds alongside a search for what many call emancipatory practice; to been acted in the field, where we feel most alive. The volume is divided into five parts, preceded by maps and legends. First in the sequence is a colour-coded soil map,“Majnoon and Hir Environs”, adapted from material originally published in 1960 by the Iraqi Ministry of Agriculture. It was the product—relic, really—of a brief era that saw fields and farmlands redistributed among labourers and peasants. Since then, the map has changed with the shifting substance of our earthly constitution; it pivots on the example of Majnoon. Any map is appended by its legends, and I rewrite them from the perspective of dismantling. A longish colour key unfolds with the likeness of a poem pursuing return, inspite of scorch and ruin. It should be mentioned that ‘hir’ recurs multiple times throughout the book as gender-nonconforming pronoun—suggestive, ambiguous, and, in my opinion, sufficiently sound for the moment. It is essential to keep needling the problem of language.
A second, simpler map charts water flow as casualty of upstream accumulation. Dams are borders, after all, and we are lousy with them; downstream is sentenced to the whims of an architecture whose gates are mostly closed. On the map, a symbol resembling a small, numbered page locates Majnoon as point of interest. A subsequent diagram also contains this motif—not for navigation through the field, butt hrough the book itself.
This book, Deux Ans de Vacances, Dos Años de Vacaciones, Dwa Lata Wakacji, Two years Vacation, Due Anni di Vacanza, documents the production of Céline Condorelli's process-based, cumulative artwork titled 'Tools for Imagination'. The title of the book raises the question of labour and working time, starting from a non-equivalence with its inverse: free time. We can read the various iterations of the title which appear on the cover as an expression of the impossibility of thinking about time outside of work in a univocal dimension.