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240 ca. S., 12,5x10 cm, Auflage: 2.000, ISBN/ISSN 0894390139
Umschlag aus Karton mit Leinenstreifen, ca. 120 Seiten gestanzt
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2004 winner of I.D. Magazine's Design Distinction award, Absence is the third book to come out of Printed Matter’s Publishing Program for Emerging Artists, a program made possible through the generous support of New York City's Department of Cultural Affairs, The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, the Elizabeth Firestone Graham Foundation, and the Heyday Foundation. The generosity of Whitney trustees Melva Bucksbaum and Raymond J. Learsy was instrumental to the Museum’s participation in the publication of this exciting new work.
Both a book and a sculptural object, Absence is a memorial to the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Yoon, an architect and designer who is currently an Assistant Professor of Architecture at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, chose not to produce a traditional design proposal for the World Trade Center Memorial Competition. Instead she created a non-architectural, non site-specific space of remembrance: a portable personal memorial in the form of book.
At almost two pounds, Absence has a considerable physical presence, but it is in every way the ghost of a presence, and it is this ghostliness that gives it its particular emotional weight. A solid white block of thick stock cardboard pages, the book’s only "text" consists of one pinhole and two identical squares die-cut into each of its one-hundred-and-twenty pages – one for each story of the towers including the antenna mast. These removed elements lead the reader floor by floor through the missing buildings towards the final page where the footprint of the entire site of the World Trade Center is die-cut into a delicate lattice of absent structures.
Of all of the proposed monuments and grand designs for the twin towers to emerge in the last two years, Absence is remarkable for its employment of an under-used strategy: restraint. The simplicity of Yoon’s materials and her use of repetition speak, without words, about unspeakable loss. Quiet, respectful, mournful, the book does not aim to represent the magnitude of the disaster. Instead it appeals to the vastness of the reader’s imagination and capacity to grieve. The human scale of her memorial operates on a personal level – it delivers the memory of lives lost into the reader’s hands. At the same time, as a scale model of a vanished architectural site, it operates on a larger cultural level by commemorating the site itself.
Text von der Webseite. Fotos Xenia Fumbarev
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[18] S., 22,5x18 cm, Auflage: 10, numeriert, 2 Stück. keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
Drahtheftung, auf erster Seite innen vom Verlag gestempelt, handnummeriert. Ein Exemplar in transparenter Kunststoffhülle mit Verlagsaufkleber.
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1 Heft aus der 2. auflage. Erste Serie an Fotografien von diversen Künstler*innen auf verschiedenen musikalischen Veranstaltungen.
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[16] S., 19x12 cm, keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
Broschur, das letzte Blatt ist auf 19 x 4 cm beschnitten
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His mustache looked like it would tickle. That’s probably the only reason why I didn’t want to kiss him.
He was a weirdo, but not weird enough, if you know what I mean. He certainly had a flair for details. It wasn’t that. I mean, it’s not like he was wearing a mullet, no. Nor like the kind of guy to gift me a Chinatown Gucci bag. He hated scented soaps and he’d drag me out of any decent party if he found scenty sticks near the toilet. That kind of thing drove him nuts. It’s not like he had anything against grapefruit.
Early on in our friendship, he gave me a box of Gioconda pencils from Koh-I-Noor. He knew how to get me hooked. But that damn mustache. It was so thick, so neatly trimmed. He paid too much attention to the kind of things I didn’t want to pay attention to. The cappuccino foam in it, however, was a kind of turn-on.
This is no doubt why you are holding this book in your hands. His mustache, right? Admit it. It’s the bowl of bonbons by the register. But then you go undercover, under the sheets to find a lot of nudity, thwarted porn. Ja, ja, ja: bodies. Corporeality. Corporation, cooperation. Protest. Violence. Religion. Collage. A torn sheet at the back. A misbound book? A defect or just vulnerable?
Selbsthilfe ist auch keine Lösung (even self-help is not a solution) and Protestvorbild Frankreich (protest “role model” in France?) is the only text you can make out other than mine. You’re meant to struggle to read it, or maybe Erik (who has no mustache) was being intentionally casual about the way he cut out these pictures. It’s an awareness of being sloppy that is so aware, it’s no longer sloppy. A man standing with his fist held high. He’s standing in the window frame of an apartment at least one story up from the ground. He is forty and mad and he enjoys his Bud. His form of protest is a form of solidarity from the sofa. A window protest: comfy. So fucking clever. Then there’s the picture abutting it of a woman holding out her bra. We are meant to take it. She’s offering it to us. Go ahead. She wants you to.
And then there’s the spooning bodies with their tube socks in a wad next to… a bed. A solar bed. You got it? This book is brown sugar. Stinky Swiss cheese. Bad, bad, good, good.
April von Stauffenberg
Text von der Verlagsseite
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