Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Stellvertretende Abschaffung
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Marie Glassl, Sophie Lewis
Surrogate Abolition
I.V. Nuss
Die Liebe im Konvexen, in der totalen Rundung und zur Slutifizierung aller Männer westlich des Bosporus
Donatien Grau
A Life in Philology
Dennis Cooper, Donatien Grau, Richard Hell
"I’d rather live in a book"
Simon Critchley
Learning to Eat Time with One’s Ears
Donatien Grau, James Spooner
Afropunk Philology
Mengia Tschalaer
Queer Spaces
Kai van Eikels
Macht kaputt, was Demokratie kaputt macht
Tom McCarthy
Toke My Asymptote – oder: die ekstatische Agonie des Erscheinens
A. L. Kennedy
Was ist ein Autor?
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers
What is the Meaning of the Avant-garde’s Death?
Axel Dielmann
The Dressmaker
Michael Heitz
Wong Ping’s "Who’s the Daddy"
Michael Heitz, Hendrik Rohlf
Umas Gesicht – Thurmans Stimme
Sina Dell’Anno
Oratio Soluta
Andreas L. Hofbauer
Yoke
Maria Filomena Molder
Die Almosen der Zeit
Damian Christinger, Monica Ursina Jäger
Homeland Fictions
Jean-Luc Nancy
Zah Zuh
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit. Corpo a corpo con l’ignoto
Manuel Franquelo
An interview with Manuel Franquelo
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Maël Renouard
The Twilight of Classification?
Nicole Bachmann
Questionnaire Nicole Bachmann
Dietmar Dath
Your Sprache Never Was
Mário Gomes
Poetik der Architektur
Diane Williams
Bang Bang on the Stair
Bruce Bégout
The Man from Venice
Artur Zmijewski
Gespräch über ‚Glimpse‘
Marcus Quent
Ohne Halt
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 1
Donatien Grau, Pierre Guyotat
Conversation
Barbara Basting
Der Algorithmus und ich 7
What do I remember? My memories of my life have always been very limited. I only remember single fragments, good...
A Little Paris Nightmare
I loved Paris, even as a little boy, long before I lived there. I was like Pinocchio...
I remember during the frozen Tokyo winter of 1997: I took long walks in the dead of night through the...
Lärmende Zeitkapseln, rare Bijous, unverzichtbares Sperrgut aller Epochen, Sprachen und Genres.
DIAPHANES fragt nach Relikten von Zukunftsvisionen in den Bildräumen der Vergangenheit, nach Spuren und Signaturen eines einst Vorstellbaren und zeitlos Möglichen.
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
…rather alarms, to truth to arm her than enemies, and they have only this advantage to scape from being called ill things, that they are nothings…
Meine Sprache
Deutsch
Aktuell ausgewählte Inhalte
Deutsch, Englisch, Französisch
»Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds: in bodies. Then he was aware of them bodies before of them coloured. How? By knocking his sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, MAESTRO DI COLOR CHE SANNO. Limit of the diaphane in. Why in? Diaphane, adiaphane. If you can put your five fingers through it it is a gate, if not a door. Shut your eyes and see.
Rhythm begins, you see. I hear. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs
marching. No, agallop: DELINE THE MARE.
Open your eyes now. I will. One moment. Has all vanished since?
If I open and am for ever in the black adiaphane. BASTA! I will see
if I can see.
See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world
without end.«
James Joyce
Dire works on the bogus regime—not just of art—but endowed with wit, beauty and irresistible fetish character.