Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Barbara Vinken
Geistige Mütter
Donatien Grau
Une vie en philologie
Emanuele Coccia
Le futur de la littérature
Johanna Went
I remember (Johanna Went)
Claire Fontaine
Vers une théorie du matérialisme magique
Marlene Streeruwitz
L'auteur n'est pas l'auteure
A. L. Kennedy
Qu’est-ce qu’un auteur ?
Jean-Luc Nancy
Après les avant-gardes
Mehdi Belhaj Kacem
Tombeau pour Guy Debord
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Jochen Thermann
L’aide-cuisinier
Joseph Morder
Une Trinite de la Memoire
Fritz Senn
Das Leben besteht aus gestrandeten Konjunktiven
Zoran Terzić
Transplants politiques
Michele Pedrazzi
The Next Bit: un corps à corps avec l’inconnu
Emma Waltraud Howes
Questionnaire Emma Waltraud Howes
Maël Renouard
Modifications infimes et considérables
Bruce Bégout
L’homme de Venise
1. Tell the Earth, “I love you. I can’t live without you."
2. At first you may feel embarrassed...
Setlist:
1 Luminous Procuress
2 Zero
3 Brass Canon
4 Mexican Tea Party
5 Jaguar
6 New Earth
7...
Liebhaarber
Schnittstelle
Schnittweise
Haareszeit Friseur
Pierette res capillorum Haarschneiderei
über Kurz oder Lang
Salon Stilkamm
Wasser und Welle
Ja-hairgroup...
L’œuvre d'art n’a pas d’idée, elle est idée
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»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