Linda Nochlin Fanzine

Starting from the position that the return of all colonially looted, pillaged, and stolen heritage should take place in full and without hesitation, Errant Journal No. 5 ‘Learning from Ancestors’ wishes to go beyond the question of ‘giving back’, and ask what is given back by whom and to whom, where, and how? In this now seemingly omnipresent discussion, who is speaking, and which voices are being listened to? To do this, as is reflected in the title of this issue, Errant proposes a shift in perspective away from dominant (Western) epistemic authorities to consider other ways of sensing and experiencing the world and let this guide us in the questions we have. This necessarily means that this issue is not just about objects and their return, not just about physical ‘things’ that can change hands and location. It is also an issue about repair, without which restitution could be meaningless.

Contributors: Ariella Aïsha Azoulay, Irene de Craen, Birago Diop, Adeola Enigbokan, Robin Gray, Tonderai Koschke, Aram Lee, Lifepatch, Albert Mwamburi, Zoé Samudzi, Dewi Sofia, Rolando Vázquez, Kaiya Waerea

The editorial/imaginative centre of the ninth issue of Errant Journal is located in the regions that have experienced Russian imperial aggression from where it makes connections across times, geographies, and ontologies to explore the radical potential of companionship. Companionship is understood not as agreement, but as a shared responsibility across unequal histories. It means not being full without the other. While forms of imperial and colonial violence might differ in places and through times, the issue recognizes how colonial mechanisms are sustained, how they present themselves as if they were past while shapeshifting and continuing in new forms and places in the present. By bringing these contexts in relation, this issue aims to show how certain borders, biases, clichés, and power structures travel, mutate, and shape both human and non-human lives and landscapes. Ultimately, companionship is about prioritizing life and about insisting that no oppression is singular.

This issue is a concept by and co-edited with Katia Krupennikova.

Contributors: Adriana Arroyo, Keto Gorgadze, Andreas Kalkun, Chung Kai Lee, Samira Makki, Ana Mikadze, Petrică Mogoș, Fabienne Rachmadiev, Vaim Sarv, Victoria Soyan Peemot, Czyka Tumaliuan, Iryna Zamuruieva, Irene de Craen, Katia Krupennikova

The sequel to Pendleton's acclaimed Black Dada Reader, compiling an anti-canon of radical experimentation and thought.

In 2011, artist Adam Pendleton (born 1984) assembled Black Dada Reader, a compendium of texts, documents and positions that elucidated a practice and ethos of Black Dada. Resembling a school course reader, the book was a spiral-bound series of photocopies and collages, originally intended only for personal reference, and eventually distributed informally to friends and colleagues. The contents - an unlikely mix of Hugo Ball, W.E.B. Du Bois, Adrian Piper, Gertrude Stein, Sun Ra, Stokely Carmichael, Gilles Deleuze -formed a kind of experimental canon, realized through what Pendleton calls radical juxtaposition. In 2017, Koenig Books published the Reader in a hardcover edition, with newly commissioned essays and additional writings by the artist. A decade later, Pendleton has composed another reader, building upon the constellation of writers, artists, filmmakers, philosophers and critics that emerged in the first volume.

Source texts by Sara Ahmed, Mikhail Bakhtin, Toni Cade Bambara, Amiri Baraka, Augusto de Campos, Hardoldo de Campos, and Décio Pignatari, Angela Davis, Gilles Deleuze, Julius Eastman, Adrienne Edwards, Clarice Lispector, Achille Mbembe, Philippe-Alain Michaud, Charles Mingus, Piet Mondrian, Leslie Scalapino, Leonard Schwartz and Michael Hardt, Juliana Spahr, Cecil Taylor and Malcolm X.

For #2 in the ¶ (Pilcrow)-series Romy Day Winkel has approached collecting, or hoarding, as an aesthetic of patience. Through her selection of Wikipedia-articles she looks at what happens when objects, magical or otherwise, are all put together. If it is impossible, and perhaps even uninteresting, to know when a collection or archive is finished, how does one start to hoard impatiently

¶#2 consists solely of texts and images found on the online collaborative platform Wikipedia. ¶#2 is assembled by Romy Day Winkel, designed by Tjobo Kho and Wouter Stroet, edited by Jan-Pieter ‘t Hart and published by OUTLINE.

"These sentences—they—will begin having already been sentences somewhere else, and this will mark their afterlife, and this will be their debut." So begins Renee Gladman’s latest interdisciplinary project, Plans for Sentences. A tour de force of dizzying brilliance, Gladman’s book blurs the distinctions between text and image, recognizing that drawing can be a form of writing, and vice versa: a generative act in which the two practices not only inform each other but propel each other into futures. In this radical way, drawing and writing become part of a limitless loop of energy, unearthing fertile possibilities for the ways we think about poetry. 

If Gladman ascribes to any particular type of poetics, here in Plans for Sentences, we are sure to find that it is robustly grounded in a poetics of infinite language.

Writing Out Loud is a publication that brings together the transcriptions of eight lectures by the artist Jon Mikel Euba that were live translated from Spanish to English during the course Action unites, words divide (On praxis, an unstated theory) at the DAI. The lectures were delivered across the academic year 2014 – 2015 at the invitation of If I Can’t Dance. They sit within a larger writing-centred project by the artist that he has pursued for almost a decade, through which he aims to define a form of praxis that could evolve into a technical theory.

Ce jeu memory invite à découvrir la symbolique de l’ours à travers l’Histoire, et plus précisément à travers l’histoire de l’ours en peluche. L’animal n’a pas toujours eu bonne réputation chez les humains. Comment un jouet à son effigie a-t-il pu devenir un emblème de l’enfance ? Le jeu se compose de 54 cartes numérotées (27 paires) et d’un poster explicatif imprimés en risographie. 

This game of memory is an invitation to discover the symbolism of the bear through history, more specifically, through the history of the teddy bear. The animal didn’t always have such a good reputation among humans. How could a toy in his likeness become an emblem of childhood ? The game is made of 54 numbered cards (27 pairs), and an explanatory poster printed in risography.