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Titel
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mimas atlas Nr. 07 - damaskus, manöver
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21,5x16,2 cm, Auflage: 50, signiert, keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
Schwarz-Weiß-Laserdrucke Lyrik, Originalarbeit von Draesner im Centerfold, eingelegte DVD, Hartpappeeinband mit Bild und Prägungen, Fadenheftung
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Der Zyklus "damaskus manöver" beruht auf einem Besuch in Syrien im Dezember 2006. Was in den Gedichten als Faktum erscheint, war Faktum: der Gedankenleser, Barbie, der weinende Junge auf der Treppe - und doch ist alles Erfindung: Wahrgenommenes, Erinnertes, zur Sprache Gebrachtes.
Am Ende, auf dem Rückflug, lernte ich einen Mann kennen, dessen übergroßes Handgepäck voller Messer steckte. Er sagte, er sei Transplantationschirurg, pendele zwischen Damaskus und Berlin, im Rahmen eines Hilfsprogramms der Bundesregierung. Er sagte, im Libanonkrieg im Sommer 2006 habe Israel Antipersonenminen in Form von Kugelschreibern über dem Süden Syriens abgeworfen. Drückt man den Knopf des Stiftes, explodiert die Mine. Der Mann operierte jede Woche für drei Tage Hände in Damaskus. Vielfach - die Bewegungen der Hand.
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Titel
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MINE. an asset-light existence - artist publication & exhibition by Romy Kießling & Veronika Wüst
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9,3x13,5 cm, signiert, keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
Einladungskarte zur Eröffnung, Risographie, mit handschriftlichem Gruß
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Technische
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5,5x9,5 cm, Auflage: 100, numeriert, keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
2 GB USB-Stick in Kreditkartenformat, Inhaltsverzeichnis auf Postkarte beigelegt, in Pappschachtel mit aufgeklebter Betitelung in Luftpolstertasche
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Enhalten sind Audio Stories, Audio Dramas, Audio Art, Documents und Cover Art
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12,2x12,6 cm, Auflage: 100, numeriert, keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
DVD in Papierhülle
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Enthalten sind Audio Stories, Audio Dramas, Audio Art, Documents und Cover Art von Arbeiten ab den 70er Jahren
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Technische
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80 S., 23,6x16,5 cm, Auflage: 1.000, keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
Drahtheftung, Schwarz-Weiss Offsetdruck
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Does anyone remember Plastic Bertrand? They thought he’d be unforgettable. And do you remember when the word plastic had a positive ring to it? In a scene from Mad Men a child is running around with a plastic bag over his head and his mother doesn’t bat an eyelash. It was the sixties. But even then, usage of the word could be confusing: plastic bomb, plastic surgery, plastic sculpture. Let us build an imaginary bridge between Henry Moore and rubbery explosives. Naturally, I’m building mine out of plastic. I can’t imagine it any other way. Plastic is the pre-manufactured utopia of the past. Plastic is the present. Plastic Bertrand is sure to make a comeback soon. Ça plane pour moi. Text von der Webseite.
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Titel
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032c Fanzine - Quarantäne!
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[40] S., 29,7x21 cm, keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
Farblaserdruck, gefaltete Einzelblätter, mit Gummiband zusammengehalten. PDF-Download von der Webseite
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“We want you to GO INSIDE — your house, and your self. Everything is about interiors now: the interior of your home, your mind, your archive, your hard drive. Mine it all for insight and purpose.
Once that’s done, show off what you find – just because you’re alone doesn’t mean you can’t share from within. There is no such thing as “too much information” now; COVID-19 took out “TMI.” In fact, there is no more “enough” — enough data, enough circulation, enough fodder. Binge on it. Burn out on it. Document it. Post it. Build a website for it. Get turned on by it. Get freaked out by it. Open up your screens, talk about your dreams, slide into those DMs. Get dressed up to go absolutely nowhere. Never go out, but leave nothing “behind the scenes” – there is no “behind,” and no “in front of” either. There is only “now,” and it is Big and Flat. Closeness happens at a distance here, but dialogue has never been this intimate. Your private hygiene is a matter of public health, your personal cloister backdrops community debate. Dualities — east and west, north and south, us and them, out and in — melt into each other and coat the old world like lava, like an act of god. In the New Interior isolation is a commons, the self that inhabits it is a collective. Historical moments stack vertically and occur simultaneously, around the globe. Welcome to the novel sanctum sanctorum, the single-occupant House of We.
Text von der Webseite
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Technische
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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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Technische
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[48] S., 52x44 cm, Auflage: 10.000, keine weiteren Angaben vorhanden
lose ineinander gelegte Blätter, gefaltet,
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1988-1992, urban artist collaborative, Begleitpublikation zum gleichnamigen Buch. Straßenplakate, Texte und Illustrationen von über 60 Künstlern
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