For both poets, there is an understanding that we never write alone, that when we write, we exhale the artistic lineages of those we have given our attentions to.
as the gates of New York open onto the abyss, the world is not one where desire is resolved, but one of potent, weird ambiguity
the surrealism in the text becomes ungrounded, a feverish nightmare suspended in air when read against an individuated psyche rather than a portrait of a collective psychological load no one should have to bear
While there is a plot to Apparitions of the Living, the narrative contained within the text is mere subplot to the larger plot of the reader’s engagement with the composite of the object and textual qualities of the book.
Constructing personae as a defense against death. The knowability of others. His whole artistic project has been a long eulogy. A multimedia patchwork of suicidal ideation.
Shiv manages it, you know. He manages to talk about love, or talk about talking about love and how talking about love mucks up love. But he doesn’t muck it up, at least not when he’s writing, even though his writing is so tempered by fears of and apologies for mucking it up that surely, you’d think, he must muck it up.
As an artifact, it initially seems incredibly bare, reducing an experience to the simplest of visual symbols and the tersest of prose. Upon close study, it becomes clear that there is much contained within North Was Here which does not demand detailed explication and which lay teeming under a cold, glacial surface.
You, Jana Beňová, are, of course, fated to the lineage of Lispector, Lefebvre, and Cixous, women who do not bother to pin their words down to the ground but let them swirl up above, overhead.
Her work could be described as collapsing the space between still life and portraiture, to the extent that it can often be read as still lifes of faces while simultaneously being read as a portraits of objects.
Atlanta artist Hannah Adair’s work rides the line between cosmic landscape, mythological figure, and abstraction of the psyche as if those things are naturally all the same. It is an experiment in repetition and transformation, as she constantly shifts the meanings of form by reintroducing images in different contexts, always prompting reinterpretation.
Many pieces incorporated into Issue 16 of Taiwan-based arts magazine White Fungus seemingly attempt to address a number of similar questions pertaining to sound, how we experience it, and how we subvert it.
Among the astonishing mass of communication, of thoughts and emotions, that we have access to in our contemporary world, so little is heard and even less retained.
