GLEAN - Issue 2 (ENG edition)

Many bulbous plants have been dubbed ‘heralds of spring’, but none is more deserving of the title than those carrying actual megaphones to spread the word – daffodils. To know a daffodil is to love a daffodil. Come join our cult.

Including:
I Like the Daffodils – An introduction by Lou-Lou van Staaveren to the genus Narcissus, with amazing photographs by Elspeth Diederix from her garden.
Dafs in Art History – Painters, poets and writers all over the world, have been inspired by the daffodils’ dual aura of macabre and threatening elegance.
The Daffodil Society – The members of The Daffodil Society in the UK promote the genus Narcissus for everyone’s greater pleasure. Photographer Luke Stephenson followed them to various shows where their flowers are reviewed.
How to follow your nose – Philosopher Christopher F. Julien invites us into his fragrant garden where scent mixes with memories with drawings by Pom Koolen.
Artist Tina Farifteh digs into her personal archive and writes a beautiful account of her memories growing up in Iran, and how daffodils have become a staple for New Year’s celebrations and a symbol of hope.

Cover and inside cover by Lou Buche
Centrefold miniatures by Jesse Fischer

For Fall 2025, Spike is getting to the bottom of the vintage aura around contemporary culture: Nostalgia. 

Are we doomed to ever-shorter cycles of cash-cow retromania, until AI memory-wipes us with pure simulation? Or is the root problem of our endless déjà vu actually the expectation that art "make it new," itself just so much nostalgia for a long-gone modernism? We're working out what the present owes to the past, if our goal is to conjure a better culture for tomorrow.

Featuring Jeppe Ugelvig's essay on the art world's uses and misuses of nostalgia; Simon Reynolds and Adina Glickstein talk exhausting the past; e-girl/theorist Alex Quicho critiques the end of newness; filmmaker Johan Grimonprez identifies with the hijacker in his dial H-I-S-T-O-R-Y (1997); a portrait of kitsch-savant painter Friedrich Kunath; cultural critic Rosanna McLaughlin on missing the white cube; Artist's Favorites by Diego Marcon; ex-dealers Margaret Lee and Jeff Poe escape the art game; Whitney Mallett on rebranding celebrity through book culture; making analog-ish art "under" the internet with Marc Kokopeli, Bedros Yeretzian, Flora Hauser, and Nicole-Antonia Spagnola; Sean Monahan forecasts our old-fashioned future; art historian Lynn Zelevansky on "New York/New Wave" at P.S.1 Contemporary (1981); artist Maja Bajevic's Yugostalgic report from Sarajevo; and Tea Hačić-Vlahović getting dewy-eyed catching up to her mother's age; plus, reviews of exhibitions by Mark Leckey, Wolfgang Tillmans, Women's History Museum, and more.

Founded by the artist Rita Vitorelli in 2004, Spike (Spike Art Quarterly) is a quarterly magazine on contemporary art published in English which aims at sustaining a vigorous, independent, and meaningful art criticism. At the heart of each issue are feature essays by leading critics and curators on artists making work that plays a significant role in current debates. Situated between art theory and practice and ranging far beyond its editorial base in Vienna and Berlin, Spike is both rigorously academic and stylishly essayistic. Spike's renowned pool of contributing writers, artists, collectors and gallerists observe and reflect on contemporary art and analyse international developments in contemporary culture, offering its readers both intimacy and immediacy through an unusually open editorial approach that is not afraid of controversy and provocation.

Coming back to the body is rarely tranquil. Often it is turbulent, interrupting dominant narratives and entrenched meanings. It is the upset of being alive, and awake to it.

The fourteen texts in this new issue do not shy away from that turbulence. There is joy and there is pleasure, there is shame, pain, and liberation... Each text addresses this dense experience from a singular perspective, yet together they explore what emerges and becomes possible when sense-making and making sense(s) are re-anchored in the sensing practices of the body.

With texts by Valérie Hug, Marco Antonini, cassiane c. pfund, Elodie Olson-Coons, Ines Marita Schärer, Bernadette Kolonko, Jo Bahdo, Lotta Beckers, Melanie Jame Wolf, Samuel Brzeski, Madeleine Kaye, Nora Longatti, Rosanna Puyol Boralevi, Larissa Clement-Belhacel

editorial team: Delphine Chapuis Schmitz, Nicole Bachmann, Robert Steinberger, and Shelby Lee Stuart as invited editor

It is a particularly unlovely time to be thinking about romance. The heart can be fickle, indulgent, its matters distracting, impractical. But in the heavy boots of our undesirable present, seized by colliding catastrophes, we ask: how do we get out of here? Can the simple math of desire plus futurity break us free? Or is this just a barely veiled expression of our longing for avoidance? When we declare that love is the answer, we often forget the ambivalence of which psychoanalysis warns: love emerges in tandem with hate. It is neither the antidote to aggression nor the basis of a coherent social order. 

As a narrative structure, romance insists on the future. Whether it's with a new lover hoping to break the repetition of bad patterns, in emotional growth born of the analytic couple, or inside the tremulous energy of an insurgent crowd that makes yesterday seem historically distinct from tomorrow, romance threads time with the texture of meaning. Perhaps delusional, perhaps heroic in this audacious promise, romance must also always be a fantasy, an imagined structure that has not yet met its match in the present. While this fantasy is vital to our attachment to the world and each other, it can also provide the fuel for self-serving denial and disavowal. When we say that the youth are not fucking and that they don’t care about politics, these separate charges obscure the nature of their common cause. As the world attempts to disavow the death of the earth and the removal of its peoples, our sense of continuity flees; the receding horizon is not an open road, but a vanishing point. Whither romance? 

Dependent. Detached. Trauma Bonded. The Incest Lobby. Revolution Against Romance. Reading for Love and Labor. Surrealist Bedfellows. Mad Love. Essays by Nadia Bou Ali, hannah baer, Moon Charania, Davey Davis, Kaleem Hawa, Anna Kornbluh, Thomas Ogden, and more.

4ème numéro de l'épopée lesbienne en épisodes par la collective Fusion, ce recueil d'aventures se lit dans n'importe quel ordre.