It goes like this
It goes like this: lower and lower and lower and... Bring down all these towers! You're sinking into this. I'm alone and we don't care. Am I just passing time?
It goes like this: lower and lower and lower and... Bring down all these towers! You're sinking into this. I'm alone and we don't care. Am I just passing time?
A series of choreopoems by Eric Peter. Published at the occasion of 'Assemblages of Intimacy' a group exhibition in a Tale of a Tub, Rotterdam in 2018.
STILL LIFE is an online and printed zine about relationships and configurations in which one person is still while others are not. Or where one person is passive and others are active. It’s about how we put ourselves in other people’s hands. Or how we are put in other people’s hands. It’s about care and power and vulnerability and agency. And other things not so clearly named. It’s about the different kinds of knowledge that people have about their own and other people’s bodies. And the kind of philosophical and political understandings woven into that knowledge.
A collection of brief descriptions of Toine's movement performances- and installations since 1979. The book, that started four years ago as a possible form in which Toine's ephemeral works could live on, gradually developed into a writing project about movement and the imaginative power of language.
Each of the 120 selected works has been translated in the most concise way into words and sentences.
Because of the possible role that the book could play in the discussion about conserving and documenting volatile works of art, Toine included related texts by other writers who directly or indirectly responded to my writing: Marcus Bergner Hannes Böhringer Florian Cramer Jan Van Den Dobbelsteen Nell Donkers Tim Etchells Ger Groot Geert Koevoets Thomas Körtvelyessy Dom H. van der Laan Dick Raaijmakers Jan Laurens Siesling Sandra Smets Hans Stevens ieke Trinks Samuel Vriezen Ciel Werts - Emilie Gallier
Editing and text advice Kathrin Wolkowicz Dick van Teylingen
translations: Simon Benson Maaike Trimbach Samuel Vriezen Helen Adkins Vincent W.J. van Gerven Oei
graphic design: Koos Siep
Edition: 2 x 250 copies
This publication is based on a project by Despina Vassiliadou that ran from 2015-16. It presents a collection of photographs taken during the period, accompanied by fictional short stories.
The Hortus project is an open investigation into the nature of seemingly common objects through 'Floriography', urban gardens, and the history of female rights. Hortus was inspired by urban gardens in West Amsterdam and created with its plants by Lilia Luganskaia.
Joanna Cresswell about the 'Hortus':
History teaches us that a language of flowers can communicate endless things about the culture in which it emerged, and herein lies Lilia Luganskaia's interest. Taking inspiration from the world of 19th Century sentimental flower books, Hortus presents itself as a set of notes towards a modern handbook for contemporary floriography, considering what the discipline might look like today. By collecting common flora across one year in the urban gardens around her home in Amsterdam and cross-referencing their meanings with publications from the past, Luganskaia reflects on their natures, their roles, and the symbolic familiarity they might hold for the communities living with them. A female artist and reader of the twenty-first century, she seeks out the essence of modern life through her lens, and through flowers, just like the women who came before her.
Lilia Luganskaia (1990) Russian - Dutch multidisciplinary artist and author, based in Amsterdam. In her artistic practice, Lilia uses her background in documentary techniques to focus on what she calls ‘investigating reality’. Her practice is research-based, Lilia decodes abstract notions such as love, tourism, bureaucracy, politics, and feminism through the use of constructed images, sculptures, videos, and installations. One of the key elements of her work is to understand multiple aspects of the photographic image.
Book: 11.7 × 18 cm
Book and Glove: 13.5 × 31.5 cm
Presented in a monster glove
Three broken halves of one god walk a city that wants them dead
Their bodies speak in static hunger and rust
Something follows breathing through their mouths
Read it Bleed from it
In A Psalm for the Third Wind, a film script written from 3 perspectives, Damien Troadec is aiming to address in parallel narrative the struggle of having multiples inner voices and the danger of following their distinct desires. One question is raised without any light at the end of the tunnel, confronting the reader to a conflict : THE COMFORT OF MISERY OR THE PAIN OF CHANGE ?
Mathilde Heuliez, Lisa Lagova and 1 more
Sore is a serial anthology that brings together authors whose writing practices oscillate between the genres of diary keeping and fiction. For the second issue of Sore, ten contributors – both authors and visual artists – were invited to collectively develop their work through a series of informal critiques over the course of five months.
With contributions by Adriana Lasheras Mabanta, Billy Morgan, Damien Troadec, Kate Tyndall, Kea Bolenz, Inka Hilsenbek, Milo Christie, Louis Mason
Dans « The Prime Times, Volume 1 », Sophie T. Lvoff met en scène sa pratique quotidienne d’atelier. Au travers de poèmes en haïku, de gros titres et de photographies de son atelier traversé par la lumière du jour au milieu de l’après-midi, le journal chronique la torpeur des longues journées de travail mêlées d’attente, de glimpses et de glances.
En attendant the prime time, Sophie lit les nouvelles sur son téléphone, parcourt paresseusement sa bibliothèque, écrit des emails à des amix éloigné·es et parfois à elle-même. Elle note des blagues et des poèmes dans son cahier, mange des snacks, doute d’elle-même, fume, jette des regards autour d’elle, jusqu’au moment précis où la photo doit être prise.
In « The Prime Times, Volume 1 », Sophie T. Lvoff dramatizes her daily studio practice. Through haiku poems, headlines, doodles and photographs of her studio pierced by mid-afternoon daylight, the journal chronicles the torpor of long workdays mixed with waiting, glimpses, and glances.
While waiting for the prime time, Sophie reads the news on her phone and lazily reads her collection of books, writes emails to far-away friends and sometimes to herself. She notes things in notebooks and writes jokes and poems, stretches, eats snacks, doubts herself, smokes, glances around, until the precise moment when the picture has to be taken.