OK, stuff Foucault. We’re talking about Savannah Bob. In this case, the texts have been written in a situation where it was not possible to write without hiding behind a pseudonym. Anonymity is something else.
SAKU SOUKKA
5 images from finnish photographer Saku Soukka
The rationally unattainable certainty
No one in the audience doubts that he is telling the truth, not even Wittgenstein, who might have been there. But Wittgenstein does not understand why Moore is saying it; he has never heard any one utter that kind of sentence before, so naturally he is a bit puzzled.
Throuwe by Sebastian Rozenberg
“I admit to being a bit thrown when I saw you yesterday”
The Archive Gallery presents Laura Kikauka
Honolulu Honky Tonk.
SHAMAN FREUD: PASCAL LIEVRE’S TOTEM UND TABU
In his 2010 ‘Bad Romance’ exhibition, Pascal Lievre began using glitter on his paintings.
Plasma
Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.
A short statement on the predicament of experimental art
By: Olav Westphalen
The sophistication it takes to spot the difference between the real thing and the postcard version is rare among contemporary audiences. But a lack of attention needn’t be bad. Some things develop better in the shade.
It´s Not Easy, Ken Montgomery
I need more time to give a polished statement about what I do because I am very dedicated to not knowing what I`m doing as a force of sudden creative explosion and as a rebellion to the “know what you´re doing world”.
Lary 7: The Dust Bunnie
Dust consists of small particles in the atmosphere that come from various sources and sound is a sequence of waves of pressure that propagates through compressible media such as air.
Problems with how Nature can be interpreted in artistic processes, and what I am working on at the moment
The process is like an octopus sometimes, one of those disgusting octopuses with a big heavy occiput which looks like a cross between a fester and a water-filled balloon. In that head, in the mind, there is either a muscle visible under the skin, or else there aren´t any muscles at all, alternatively withered muscles and a lot of skin.
“the ‘means’ [le moyen] is also a means to achieve something other than its own end.” Ranciere, 2012
The hypermediate strategy of Sayuri Michima
The story of Parrhasius and Zeuxis written by Pliny the Elder in the first century AD expresses the most universal attitude towards art among the ancient Greeks and Romans. It’s about a painter called Zeuxis and his contemporary Parrhasius, who stage a contest to determine the greater artist. When Zeuxis unveils his painting of grapes, they appear so real birds fly down to peck at them. But when Zeuxis asks Parrhasius to pull aside the curtain from his painting, the curtain itself turns out to be a painted illusion. Parrhasius wins, and Zeuxis admits that although he has deceived the birds, Parrhasius has deceived him.
Mladen Stilinovic, An artist who cannot speak English is no artist, 1992
Not only does the banner claim that “an artist who cannot speak is no artist”, thereby pointing at the linguistic paradigm of contemporary discourse of discourse critique – a discursive tendency which tends to promote ’interesting’, discussion-based art work (or – God forbid – conversation pieces), it also claims that the artist should speak a certain language.
Why didn’t Piero Manzoni use my sewing machine?
Piero Manzoni was born on July 13th 1933 and died on February 6th 1963, therefore in 2013 will be the 50th anniversary of his death and the 80th of his birth.
This is a transcription of Piero Manzoni’s Infinite Line with Sewing Machine, a Performance by Elena Berriolo
tsnoK says: Her collaboration with capital is a system error (posted 5 March 2012)
The exhibition, Abstract Possible: The Stockholm Synergies at Tensta Konsthall and Bukowskis exposes a problem that both Swedish and international art criticism has had for quite a long time. Political exhibitions that don’t just represent opinions or document political situations, that work within the political – as, for example, Santiago Sierra does, or Maria Lind… Continue reading tsnoK says: Her collaboration with capital is a system error (posted 5 March 2012)
Johan Zetterquist
A selection of works by Johan Zetterquist, from the ongoing project: Proposals for Public Art.
The Way We Like To Dress by Claes Tellvid
Raymond Roussel spent enormous sums on clothes, which he threw away after only a few wearings; his favorite sensation was to be entirely clad in new clothing, which he likened to ”walking on eggs”
A Happy Picture in a Sad Frame
Olav Westphalen
CARLA ÅHLANDER
Sealed premises, 2011
ÉDOUARD LEVÉ
Images from the series: Pornographie, 2002
Spam chronique for tsnok “sticky eye”
My name is Vera
How are you today?
Learning by Doing
When visiting Detroit last year, I encountered an abandoned school that caught my particular interest. I
was travelling with the economic historian, photographer and researcher Jan Jörnmark, visiting
abandoned sites in order to document effects of the ongoing globalization for an upcoming book.
On Baroque New Media Art
“It is better to be an enemy of the people than an enemy of reality” Pier Paulo Pasolini.
UNDO
Undo: the Real – Losing your consistency with the time passed since the departure. Reading a few fragments, feeding the jellyfish.
Spam chronique for tsnok “Calories”
No Pumps, No Surgery, No Exercises: 128 bit order processing.
Around the Formula
All spirits are only shadows of the Power in the murky horizons of language, positivisations of the human wish to be taken care of, to be possessed.
BREAK. A Collaboration on Collaboration
“And the two of them never came to agree on the interpretation of certain of their key-concepts, like “body without organs”. They used it anyway. As for the model of their collaboration, Deleuze once said that they wanted to be the Laurel and Hardy of philosophy.”
The Coating by Stephen Sarrazin
Bad Romance
Solo Show Pascal Lièvre
Galerie Vanessa Quang, Paris
4 septembre-30 octobre 2010
SVEN DROBNITZA
Laundered Handkerchieves, 2010
Spam chronique for tsnoK, “Vote”
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LOTTA ANTONSSON
A selection of seven images by Lotta Antonsson
SAYURI MICHIMA
Artist: sayuri michima
Work: untitled (facebook series)
Material: digital data – for monitor, projection, photographic paper or installation
Dimensions: there is no size only proportions
Year: 2010
CARRÉ DE SOI
L’époque, la mode, la morale, la passion. Aspects de l’art aujourd’hui, 1977-1987 BY STEPHEN SARRAZIN It’s 1987 and it’s odd to imagine that the Centre Georges Pompidou/Mnam was ever only ten years old. For those who can recall the two massive craters which scarred the Paris city center during the seventies, holes to be filled… Continue reading CARRÉ DE SOI
Art School Odyssey
BY EVA BJÖRKSTRAND
Cykel / Bicycle
BY LINA PERSSON
The world shrunk and I could visit my friend in Vänge whenever I wanted to. Places interconnect in new ways. There was a straight path through the forest between Halla and Viklau which was a kilometer shorter than the long route by car. With my bicycle I can easily stop, take a side route and see where the grown-over path leads. Daily commuting is repeated with variations.
Spam chronique for tsnoK, ”pill”
BY NATHALIE FOUGERAS, June 2010 So, we built for you and your loved ones. We built a service for video and written messages. We built you a place where you can leave instructions on how to deactivate your social life. If you died tomorrow. Open a account today, because you care about your loved ones,… Continue reading Spam chronique for tsnoK, ”pill”
A Lapdog, NOT!
KJARTAN SLETTEMARK BY ANNIKA ERIKSSON In 1976, the Norwegian/Swedish artist Kjartan Slettemark dressed up in a white poodle costume and walked around the opening of Malmö Konsthall. Upon the arrival of the museum director, he went to attack, biting and growling but also wagging his tail and trying to please. As a pet that not… Continue reading A Lapdog, NOT!
Lullaby
Annika von Hausswolff writes about an image by Ola Åstrand
A reclined woman, her posture slightly askew. The image is cropped just below one breast. The other breast is not showing, assumingly resting intact just outside the frame. Actually, the perceptible breast is not there either. Not if you consider the place it ought to be in relation to the given anatomy of the body. The breast is hovering elsewhere. If you let your eyes glide along the outline of the body, it can be found to the right of the head. The nipple seems erected and points to the left. The breast looks like a spaceship about to be engulfed by a black hole.
Portrait of Karl Marx as a young god
Lars-Erik Hjertström Lappalainen on a work by Gernot Wieland
Gernot Wieland’s video Portait of Karl Marx as a young god was on display for the first time at the abc Berlin art fair last fall (2009). After having watched this hardly one minute long work, consisting of filmed drawings and a voice over, I met Wieland for a chat. It evolved into an interview. Below you find exactly what Wieland said, but also how I, having seen his work, understood him. I put it all on his account, though: he is the only one speaking, and sometimes it is just me showing my skills as a ventriloquist.
Bacon and the collapse of the borderline between the joke and the sublime
by Staffan Boije Af Gennäs
Prague, 1990. It is the summer after the Berlin wall came down. I’m having breakfast at Hotel Jalta – a communist style luxurious establishment. Eggs, bacon, jam and toast. I’m sitting on the terrace facing Václavské námesti, the city’s main parade