MISSING

Infrastructural systems define our ways of seeing and responding to the world around us. Today, our everyday lives and visual cultures have become saturated by digital communications systems whose physical footprint has been rendered largely invisible from the public sphere.

In an age of ever-expanding computation and a foolish believe in AI’s utopian potential, resistance can seem futile. But if we detach our gaze from increasingly narrow realm of digital imaginaries, a new world of radically different infrastructural opportunities opens up in front of our eyes.

Street libraries, or Minibiebs, as they are called in Dutch, are an under-appreciated piece of urban technology. Part manifesto, part research note, this mini publication dives into the radical potential of public book sharing structures and what they might tell us about our broken information ecosystem. 

Printing: Risograph, Grafische Werkplaats Den Haag; Research and Photography: Livio Liechti; Design: Apsara Flury. 
First print run – May 2025: 35 copies.

Taking the shape of an accordion-folded A3 poster, “Under The Sea” investigates the political economy of global internet infrastructures, whose material reality has temporarily become visible during fibre optic network expansion works in The Hague and other Dutch cities.

As internet users, we spend a lot of time underwater. Contrary to popular belief, satellites play a negligible role in beaming our intimate messages, cat footage and work emails across the globe.

99% of all intercontinental internet traffic travels through one of over 550 fibre optic cables criss-crossing our oceans. Despite its scale, complexity and many interlinkages with global systems of power, this network of cables and landing points commonly remains invisible.

Printing: Risograph, Stencilwerck Den Haag; English text and Photography: Livio Liechti; Dutch translation: Minke Havelaar; Design: Apsara Flury. 
Edition of 250. Co-funded by Oxfam Novib.

What do you worship? What claims your time, your faith, your silence? What are the icons you carry, the relics you protect, the devotions that define you?

For our inaugural issue, we invite you to reflect on the objects, ideas, rituals, and obsessions that shape your devotion. Worship is not confined to temples or texts, it flickers in longing glances, whispered prayers, silent routines, and fervent beliefs. It can be sacred or profane, communal or solitary, chosen or inherited.

We encouraged our writers and artists to interpret this theme freely, critically, emotionally, playfully, or abstractly. Whether they explored worship through fiction, nonfiction, poetry, visual art, or hybrid forms, we were looking for work that comforts, commands, or consumes.

This issue features art and writing from: Triinu Silla, Michel Krysiak, Anna Tracey, Antonina Anna Kubicka, Ari Wentz, Jonathan David Sijl, Renacuajo Sánchez, Florence Hutchinson, Marta Calero Segura, Eden Ridout, Artémis Toumi, Simone Viola, Zoe Pappouti, Laura Soto Sánchez, Autumn Anderson, Woodkern, Cathal McGuire, Nena Pawletko, Ignacio Aguilera, Marine Victoria Lobos Garay, Andreea Luță, Isabel Ferreras González, Rafael Torrubia, Emilia Tapia, KC Willis, Simon Jin, Jacky Weerman, Róisín Gallagher, and Rin Anishchanka. 

Manuel d’actions et réactions adaptées aux différentes situations, dessiné à partir de l’expérience d’Edwige Ehlinger.

« [...] Mon moi superstitieux, ou mon moi spirituel, a pensé que je devais l’avoir entendu pour une raison. C’est peut-être pour ça qu’on a pas droit à l’appel à la prière en Occident, les sorcières astro “open chackra” girlies pourraient aussi le prendre comme un signe [...] » 

La collection est inaugurée par Nesrine Salem, curatrice et éditrice de SABR/Collection, dans un numéro pilote. 

À travers sa polyglossie, l’autrice célèbre la pluralité de son identité et conduit ses recherches autour des traumatismes intergénérationnels, du tokenisme et des pratiques de deuil. 

SABR/Collection est une série de publications qui rassemble des œuvres littéraires de format court et de genres variés. Dirigée par Nesrine Salem, la collection souhaite mettre en avant les macro-réalités des auteur·ices choisi·es pour rendre visible le caractère intersectionnel des luttes.

I am not deep, although my eyes are, like a black sea that has been forgotten, as many have told me.

Noura Alsouma’s zine “Nawar’s Sketchbook” is a liquid lament by the Berlin-based Syrian visual artist and printmaker, riveted to eyes that see and therefore shed tears, channeling the heartfelt exposure of the sketchbooks Noura fills to the bleed.

With a moving text by the artist in the original Arabic, reproduced in her handwriting, as well as in English translation by Suja Sawafta.

Dans l’imaginaire collectif, l’œuf évoque la fragilité et la promesse de vie, tandis que la pierre renvoie à la permanence et à la disparition. Cette édition tente de déplacer cette opposition à travers une forme fragmentaire. Il rassemble des notes écrites au fil du temps. Sa production suit cette logique : imprimé en offset, le projet prend en compte les formats de papier afin d’en optimiser l’usage. Les chutes sont utilisées dans un cahier complémentaire, rassemblant textes et images laissés en marge. La reliure, cousue à la main au fil de coton, reste simple et légère. L’objet se conçoit comme quelque chose à manipuler et découvrir, entre publication et transmission plus intime. 

« J’ai donc cherché une forme simple, en évitant tout formalisme superflu. Le projet repose sur une question : est-il nécessaire de produire ce type d’objet, et pourquoi ? » 

In the collective imagination, the egg suggests fragility and the promise of life, while stone evokes permanence and disappearance. This edition seeks to move beyond this opposition through a fragmentary form. It gathers notes written over time. Its production follows the same logic: printed in offset, the project takes paper formats into account in order to optimize their use. Offcuts are used in a supplementary section, gathering texts and images left aside. The binding is hand-sewn with cotton thread, remaining simple and lightweight. The object is conceived as something to handle and discover, between publication and a more intimate form of transmission. 

“So I sought a simple form, avoiding unnecessary formalism. The project rests on a question: is it necessary to produce this type of object, and why?”