REMMUS

“Invest in a floating city or gentrify a submerged one.”

Nourhan Maayouf’s I Was Going to Work is a hybrid sci-fi picture book by the Cairo-based artist, in which the proto-cyborg citizens of Happy Land Nation establish new-fashioned diurnal rhythms against the ever-present backdrop of a monorail to nowhere and its pillars, idle and idolatrous.

Across forty-four spreads of what might be thought of as a picture book for adults, Maayouf delves into every aspect of a deeply familiar society in which retrograde devolution is billboarded as reinvention by Orwellian technocrats and speculators.

And yet pockets of the cyborg population continue striving, dreaming, craving, protesting, gleaning, and inventing. For a situation to be bleak, some notion of beauty must remain tenaciously rooted where it matters most.

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.

Hands & Feet of Friends & Family is a weave of Helen Korpak’s photocollages and locket-sized literary captions recording closely observed familiar and familial gestures. Granular renderings tenderly taped, Korpak’s collages meld the touching and the wryly humorous, balancing throughout the vulnerability of artist and subjects bonded by essential fondness.

Beginning to look 
I started to notice 
the older I get 
the more I notice 
studying the reproductions 
separating this from that 
noticing the gestures 
feeling the movements 
of the joints—

Designed and typeset with haptic craft by Samuli Saarinen.

Heart. Compass, radar detector. Lost and anxious. Parents divorce. Respect the rhythm. Fallen angels, now my stomach is all butterflies.

In his artist’s book My Body Is a Reincarnated Population, Helsinki-based Hong Kong artist Oscar CHAN Yik Long (Melted Stars) embraces the pantheon of reincarnated souls embedded within him through ink-and-wash paintings and distilled capsule texts.

His process was guided by the rolls of a die used to connect individuals he has known and encountered in past lives—parents and siblings, relatives and ancestors, friends and enemies, lovers—to his present-life body. Who formed his throat? Who grew into his tongue? Who paired as lungs? Who became skin, muscle, bone, or blood?

The artist’s efforts were ultimately about a form of spiritual atonement in pursuit of physiological harmony for a body facing numerous afflictions: “Through my artwork, I wanted to let the people within me know that, regardless of the tragedies or conflicts that divided us in the past, I have come to terms with everything that happened between us. I sincerely apologize, I express gratitude, I forgive and send love.”

In Sleigh Ride, a kinetically wondrous prose tale from poet Joe Fletcher, a father and his convalescing son plunge in carpentered, stallion-drawn sleigh slashing through lush forest, advancing through a sequence of diorama-like settings. The books ten chapters are interspersed with gouache collages by Kraków artist Mikołaj Moskal (REMMUS), rooted and riverine, functioning as curtains swept aside to reveal each chapter of Fletcher’s exhilarating nocturne.

There was a sleigh: jet black and gleaming.

The long steel runners curved at their termini like arabesques of ice. It was too dark to clearly discern the design on its side, but it was intricate, ornate, suggestive of cuneiform and the minarets of Cairo. Two orange lanterns mounted above the driver’s chair were each encircled by a cloud of gnats and moths. Draped in fabulously embroidered saddlecloths, Ajax and Hector stomped the earth.

Given that the only exit from the cellar was the door, hardly wider and taller than a man, I marveled at how father could have extracted his creation from his smithy and pointed it at the forest. But I said nothing as I climbed unaided onto the purple velvet couch.

Métaphoriques Cannibales est un recueil transdisciplinaire, où le cannibalisme est pris comme métaphore, comme un concept ouvert aux analogies, comme anthropopoiésis et boîte noire, et comme fait social total.

Peuplent cet endroit des individus qui s’abreuvent de symboles, d’imaginaires, d’occulte, d’intime et ne craignent pas d’en recracher des images et idées d’une extrême violence, tout en constituant paradoxalement l’univers de leur production comme “safe space”.

Le cannibale est une spécialité belge, composée d’un toast recouvert de filet américain (une variante belge du steak tartare).

Transgressif et provocant, c’est ici un paroxysme de l’altérité et fantasme de l’Autre, qui permet par reflet de nous contempler nous-même.
La vie n’a de saveur que pour devenir viande.

La transgression, c’est aussi aller plus loin. Oser aller plus loin. Plus loin que les normes communément admises qui sont toutes relatives et violentes.
SUBSTANCE MOLLE ET SANGUINE

Nous cherchons des outils spéculatifs pour pænser notre monde.STIMULI VISUELS HOMOGÉNÉISÉS PAR LE ROUGE

C’est d’un brouillard polysémique empli de chimères, d’un tabou lardé de malaise et d’angoisse, bien au chaud dans un ventre plein de plasma, que ɴon-ᴀ émet ce recueil transdisciplinaire.

Dans la large brèche que nous propose l’ouverture de notre thématique, s’engouffre une multitude d’approches : de la chansonnette, au récit spéculatif, de la définition critique, à la BD vorarephile, du reportage photo, à la poésie expérimentale, de la théorie d’écologie spéculatif, à la performance eroticocculte.

Explorons les obscures profondeurs de nos éthiques pour y trouver les fondations de nos ontologies... se mordre d’une balle dans le pied.

Contributeur·rice·x·s
aariel136, Maurane-Amel Arbouz, Nina Bigot,Mathilde Block, Juliano Caldeira, Rémi Calmont, Rouge Cendre, Chloé Clemen, Sam Ectoplasm, Robin Faymonville, Gabriel René Franjou, Tristan Gac, Léo Gillet, Charlotte Guerlus, Théophile Gürtin, KarenDK, Olga Mathey, Louise Mervelet, Jean-Baptiste Molina, Hélène Alix Mourrier, Carole Mousset, Lucy Ozon, Angel Raymond, Andres Komatsu & Camila Roriz, Paradoc sale, Manon Schaefle, Yan Tomaszewski, Tom Valckenaere, Chloé Viton, xX-Sukuba-Xx, Zelig, Janna Zhiri

KILOBASE BUCHAREST A-Z is a publication which is describing Bucharest through a sort of experimental alphabet book: for each letter of the English alphabet, artists, writers, architects and researchers were invited to choose a key term and develop a contribution representing a sliver of the Romanian capital city, capturing a polyphonic set of perspectives on the infinite facets of a city whose identity is notoriously difficult to define.

Contributions by: Irina Bujor, Serioja Bocsok, studioBASAR, Iuliana Dumitru, Ștefan Ghenciulescu, Kilobase Bucharest, Apparatus 22, Mihnea Mihalache-Fiastru, Ștefan Constantinescu, Sabine Bitter & Helmut Weber, Gruia Bădescu, Ioana Ulmeanu, Decebal Scriba, Sillyconductor, Prosper Center, Geir Haraldseth, Jimmy Robert, Karol Radziszewski, Lea Rasovszky, Ștefan Botez, Simina Neagu, Bogdan Iancu, Andrei Mihail, Mihai Lukács, Mihai Mihalcea, Cosima Opârtan, Juergen Teller, Hans Leonard Krupp.

The publication also includes a republished insert by late artist Ioana Nemeș, and three reprinted contributions previously published in Kilobase Bucharest A-H (Mousse Publishing, 2011) produced on the occasion of "Image to be projected until it vanishes" exhibition at Museion Bolzano.