Abattre les arbres, boucher les fontaines, renverser les pierres

Encre verte pour tableaux noirs. Vingt-sept poèmes de Timothée Trouche (maître d’hôtel et instituteur) compilés avec la complicité de Teddy Coste (groom et solitaire).

Ronaldo V. Wilson’s Carmelina: Figures excavates the territory between memory, nation, and embodiment, exploring place as a discipline of the body and an extension of the hand. Through poems, photographs, drawings, records of performance, and home movies recorded in Guam, Tennessee, and the Subic Bay between 1962 and 1979, Wilson reckons with familial heritage, diaspora, and legacies of militarism.

The book pays homage to Wilson’s mother, Carmelina, who served for most of her working life as a certified nursing assistant at Florin Convalescent, an assisted living facility in South Sacramento, California. A glut of signals and media recovers Carmelina’s vivid and urgent experience of exile from the Philippines to marry Wilson’s father—a Black American soldier—being disowned, and before that, of her parents’ assassinations during the Japanese Occupation. Through a visual logic of repetition and reenactment that works to unmoor sensory expectation and narrative logic, Wilson renders her figure as trace, melody against paper, drawing within song, mixed media, dance, and through improvised, masked, and recorded performances in the Berkshires, MA; Long Island, NY; Emeryville, CA; and Boulder, CO. Carmelina: Figures is a book of the Psoas, ice, smudge, and light. 

Touch Response is about lacking language and how to (not) interpret images. This is a book on vulnerability, as a description, prescription or side effect. It is made in a difficult period of fatigue and pain, mainly in the sofa in my living room, as a dialogue with myself and other invisible forces.

Drawings by Lore Smolders - visual artist
Interview with Birds WG - healer, writer, performance artist
Text editing by Isolde Vanhee and Joan Somers Donnelly

A collection of portraits by original riot grrrl, filmmaker, and zine queen, G.B. Jones. All of them witches – from the silverscreen, woodlands, and the streets.

Featuring provocative essays by Caroline Azar, Paul P., Leafshimmer, Jenna Danchuk, Blake Baron Ray, and Scott Treleaven – each exploring how witches have been perceived, presented, and portrayed in popular culture. “Realer than real, stranger than fiction.” 

PRAISE FOR G.B. JONES WITCHES

Witches by G.B. Jones is a summoning spell posing as a book, a paper potion like the potion Nicky gives Gillian in Bell, Book and Candle. It draws me to it and to what’s in it, Jones’ divine drawings of the witches we both worship, the witches of TV and film and true life. I go to it gladly. I go to it gayly. I pore over it and prize it and purr like Pyewacket.

— Derek McCormack, author of Castle Faggot

G.B. Jones is the original Foxy Genius. Her zines, drawings, music, and Super 8 films inspired both the Queer zine explosion and the Riot Grrrl movement of the 90s. Witches sees G.B. once again crafting her magic.

— Kathleen Hanna, singer, writer, artist, and front-woman of the bands Bikini Kill and Le Tigre

With her illustrated procession of witches, post-punk icon G.B. Jones acts as medium to a dazzling diversity of disrupters from across screen history, as well as a pantheon of real-life hellraisers, from Sybil Leek and Rosaleen Norton to Vali Myers and beyond – all woven through with astute commentary by a host of countercultural collaborators. A captivating book; I was certainly under its spell.

— Kier-La Janisse, author of House of Psychotic Women

“Invest in a floating city or gentrify a submerged one.”

Nourhan Maayouf’s I Was Going to Work is a hybrid sci-fi picture book by the Cairo-based artist, in which the proto-cyborg citizens of Happy Land Nation establish new-fashioned diurnal rhythms against the ever-present backdrop of a monorail to nowhere and its pillars, idle and idolatrous.

Across forty-four spreads of what might be thought of as a picture book for adults, Maayouf delves into every aspect of a deeply familiar society in which retrograde devolution is billboarded as reinvention by Orwellian technocrats and speculators.

And yet pockets of the cyborg population continue striving, dreaming, craving, protesting, gleaning, and inventing. For a situation to be bleak, some notion of beauty must remain tenaciously rooted where it matters most.

Featuring coloured pencil, watercolour, ink, airbrush, acrylic and graphite, alongside other more unusual media like sand, silicone or olive oil, this book is a sumptuous, visual document of Marten's drawing and painting practice on paper. Designed as an unruly "artist's book", Treatise of a Coat has multiple physical and linguistic folds. The title is a forcing of the homonymic similarities of coat: the literal jacket that is unfurled to expose the naked and unruly shame of human forms; the fur or hair of an animal; the verb-function of to coat, with its intentional building up of visual desire - the acts of lacquering, spreading, enclosing, flooding, directing, or husking that line and colour expedite when creating an image. The constituent materiality of this book is designed with the physicality of making a work on paper in mind.