Prompt: Movement Research was founded in 1978 as a self-described “laboratory” for investigating dance and movement. In its long history, the organization has prioritized giving space to artists for rehearsing, developing, and investigating—rather than presenting and producing—their work. The Movement Research Performance Journal can be seen as an outgrowth of this mission—extending the rehearsal studio into the space of the page. In its first issue, editor Richard Elovich describes the journal as “a new public space for the New York performance community…a slightly anarchic forum in which opposing ideas and aesthetics can be seriously developed and debated.” How do we understand this mission of staying in the zone of research today? How are artists (re)building pedagogy, and processes of learning, into their practice? What contemporary or historical alternative schools, and approaches to schooling, might be seen in constellation with the founding of Movement Research? How are students of dance and performance confronting the possibility and failure of an educational system predicated on both their enrichment and indebtedness?

A collective manifesto for feminist art schools.

Bringing a series of intersectional feminist lectures, interviews, workshops and discussion groups back to an art school is crucial to sharing tools for emancipation and challenging the implicit criteria that structure our views and practices (identification with Western visual norms, romantic-capitalist representations of the artist-author, etc.). It is vital to give a voice to artists and those who support them in the ways in which they deal with, and even elude, relations of power.

The primary aim of this book is to share the content hosted and produced at the École Supérieure d'Art de Clermont Métropole between 2017 and 2022. It is also an opportunity to work with a group of students, artists and researchers, to think about how invitations and the production of the book can be drawn up collectively; it is a tool for collective and ideally horizontal pedagogical work within a hierarchical and hierarchizing institution. The invitations, transcription and editing of the texts were done jointly.

Edited by Lilith Bodineau, Adèle Bornais, Nelly Catheland, Charlotte Durand, Martha Fely, Lola Fontanié, Eulalie Gornes, Chloé Grard, Sophie Lapalu, Eden Lebegue, Michèle Martel, Sarah Netter, Clémentine Palluy, Mauve Perolari, Simon Pastoors, Rune Segaut, Danaé Seigneur.

Texts by Nino André & Vinciane Mandrin, Rachele Borghi, Tadeo Cervantes, Adiaratou Diarrassouba, Kaoutar Harchi, T*Félixe Kazi-Tani, Nassira Hedjerassi, Gærald Kurdian, H.Alix Sanyas, Sophie Orlando, Émilie Renard, Liv Schulman, Danaé Seigneur, Pau Simon.

The turbulent history of De Ateliers is one of passionate ideals and fierce rivalry. The essay, based on interviews are richly illustrated with never before published photos and archive materials.

Design: Sabo Day

There is a growing interest in fungi and mycelium as a material, the ever-branching connecting threads of the fungal world. The entanglements and how this rhizomatic network functions is not just a fascinating ecological system and material, but carries a profound usefulness as a metaphor for our potential new systems, ways of thinking and behaviors.

Let’s Become Fungal! takes its inspiration from the world of art and mycology and shares innovative practices from Latin America and the Caribbean that are rooted in multispecies collaboration, symbiosis, alliances, non-monetary resource exchange, decentralization, bottom-up methods and mutual dependency­—all in line with the behavior of the mycelium.

Every chapter is phrased as a question. They do not lead to answers, but to twelve teachings addressing for instance collaboration, decoloniality, non-linearity, toxicity, mobilization, biomimicry, death, and being non-binary. Simultaneously it ventures deeper into the world of fungi. The teachings from the fungus may inspire artists, collectives, organizations, educators, policy-makers, designers, scientists, anthropologists, change-makers, curators, urbanists, activists, gardeners, community-leaders, farmers, and many others, to become more fungal in their ways of working and being.

Inspired by conversations with: Francisca Álvarez Sánchez, Carolina Caycedo, Annalee Davis, Maya Errázuriz, Juan Ferrer, Lilian Fraiji, Giuliana Furci, Sofía Gallisá Muriente, Yina Jiménez Suriel, Patricia Kaishian, Mirla Klijn and Olaf Boswijk, Lola Malavasi and Daniela Morales Lisac, Martina Manterola and Carmen Serra, Camila Marambio, Mariana Martínez Balvanera, Claudia Martínez Garay, Lina Meija and Luciana Fleischman, Tomaz Morgado Françozo and Marília Carneiro Brandão, Marion Neumann, Maria Alice Neves, Tara Rodríguez Besosa, Raquel Rosenberg, Juli Simon, Ela Spalding, Gianine Tabja, Gabriela Flores del Pozo and Lucia Monge, Fer Walüng, Tatyana Zambrano.

Long awaited after No Future, and making queer theory controversial again, Lee Edelman’s Bad Education proposes a queerness without positive identity—a queerness understood as a figural name for the void, itself unnamable, around which the social order takes shape.

Like Blackness, woman, incest, and sex, queerness, as Edelman explains it, designates the antagonism, the structuring negativity, preventing that order from achieving coherence. But when certain types of persons get read as literalizing queerness, the negation of their negativity can seem to resolve the social antagonism and totalize community.

By translating the nothing of queerness into the something of “the queer,” the order of meaning defends against the senselessness that undoes it, thus mirroring, Edelman argues, education’s response to queerness: its sublimation of irony into the meaningfulness of a world. Putting queerness in relation to Lacan’s “ab-sens” and in dialogue with feminist and Afropessimist thought, Edelman reads works by Shakespeare, Jacobs, Almodóvar, Lemmons, and Haneke, among others, to show why queer theory’s engagement with queerness necessarily results in a bad education that is destined to teach us nothing.

Being Together: A Manual For Living falls in the lineage of publications such as The Journal of the Society for Education Through Art, which throughout the 1960s provided Britisch art schools a window into experimental education. By contrast, Grace Ndritu's experience in creating radical pedagogies arose from a connected, yet unorthodox system of 'self education'.

In 2012, she decided to spend time living in cities only when necessary. She thus lived in rural, alternative and often spiritual communities, while expanding her research into nomadic lifestyles, and training in esoteric studies, which she began following graduating art school. This research led her to visit Thai and Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, permaculture communities in New Zealand, forest tree dwellers in Argentina, neo-tribal festivals such as Burning Man in Nevada, a Scottish Hare Krishna ashram, and the Findhorn Spiritual Community in Scotland.

Such lifestyles forever transformed her ideas of education and have proven critical for her art, whether conducting social practices or working with students, peers and the general public; some of whose voices appear in this publication. Ndiritu posits, "What does (art) education mean today?" and specifically, "What does an embodied (art) education mean in a time of pandemics and social unrest?". Being Together: A Manual For Living attempts to answer these complex questions.

This book is published on the occasion of Grace Ndiritu's solo show at KRIEG? in Hasselt, Belgium.

Contributors: Philippe Van Cauteren, Pieter Vermeulen, Grace Ndiritu, Rafaela Lopez, Roberto dell’Orco, Jana Haeckel, Katleen Vermeir & Ronny Heiremans, Nathalie Boobis, Shayla Perreault, Edward Ball, Guadalupe Martinez, Stacy Suy, Ezra Fieremans.

Editors: Pieter Vermeulen, Grace Ndiritu 
Copy editor: Sue Spaid
Design: Vrints-Kolsteren