Civilisation & its Malcontents

I travel far across the city, cut it knowingly, concealing behind me the entrances to tunnels, altering the signage. I traverse the grimiest bowels, skirt the farthest wettest edges like a silverfish active only in the hallucinatory hours, to avoid becoming known, to avoid any collusion between my body and theirs, its. 

Under the neon sky of a sick city, which might be London, a nameless governess oscillates between lucidity and dissociation, solitude and communication, wage labour and escape attempts. A wild and unreliable narrator-without-character—ardent, delirious, complicit, vengeful, and paranoid—she embodies a perverse and chaotic resistance. Simultaneously demonic and angelic, both maniacal and generous in her fury, accidentally elegant, tongue tied and barbed, she veers towards defiance as devotion. An anti-Bildungsroman in the collapsing first person, Yes, I Am A Destroyer is an unbecoming record of memory and forgetting, of a relentless undoing. 

‘Any girl who learns how to read is already a lost girl, wrote the infamous confessionalist Rousseau. But if that lost girl, with insatiable pronoun, bastard spawn perhaps of the exiled Genevan, palmed a pen and confessed—how would that read? What can she know? With relentless intelligence and urgent prosody, Mira Mattar shows us. She invents a narrator in the raging anti-tradition of Violette Leduc and Albertine Sarrazin, leaps beyond the cloying contract of capital with the feminine, of intimacy with violence, to animate a lush document of the refusal of subjection. Much like the young Jean-Jacques, she’s a tutor underpaid for her sensitivity. She is, like him, a thief of small things, a sponge for the edifying comportments of the employing class. What she makes of her servitude—a fabulously grotesque encyclopedia of sensing—is dedicated to female anger. Scrubbing, washing, chewing, frigging, barfing, stealing, moisturising, shitting: every surface, every gesture, is appropriated to her bodily resistance.  ‘Live anyway’ is her stoic motto. This glorious tract ends with a call for the anarchical vigour of the animal body we share. Read it and flourish. You will perhaps be invoiced.’ 
–> Lisa Robertson 

Mira Mattar writes fiction and poetry. She is an independent researcher, editor, and tutor. A Palestinian/Jordanian born in the suburbs of London, she continues to live and work there. She has read and published her work widely. Yes, I Am A Destroyer is her first book.

The straplines of a number of advertisements drawn from magazines of the 1950s are turned into drawings, as though a particularly vain and narcissistic woman speaks (as of course she does), She is ‘en pleine forme’ of her beauty. (2016).

The Poeticians is a publication of the performance of the collection of clothes and poetry called Writing Wounds To Heal by Swedish choreographer Pontus Pettersson. Made in velvet silk with the poetry burned out in the fabric exposing the texts, the poetry exposes both itself and the skin of the performer. Throughout the durational piece the performers are doing Pontus Petterssons cat practice and is one of the main ingredients of the project as well as the clothes/poems. The Poeticans is also a choreo-curational event that hosts different choreographic proposals inside of it. It is seen as module or installation where pieces, objects, performers can be inserted rather than a performance that executes and performs the same over and over. It was created as an extension of Pontus interest in poetry and choreography where hospitality and proximity is seen as key concepts in the development and execution of the event.

The new publication triangulates between geopoetics, geopolitics, and cultural geography; a 464 page issue with some 50 contributors as well as a large section on Swedish philosophical geographer Gunnar Olsson.

Alice Notley has consistently peopled her poetry with the voices of those around her: kids, friends, husbands, strangers, and the dead. Thirty-Odd Functions of Voice in the Poetry of Alice Notley offers an array of interpretations of this technique. While not aspiring to completeness, and limiting its attention to one formal aspect of a single author's work, this poem-essay sketches relationships between intimate speech and literary language.

to enter the forest is an invitation to suspend the acquired systems of knowledge, to look for other ways of “world making.” The book includes a revised and extended version of to err together with the unpublished correspondances.

to err gathers walking exercises and notes, created as instruments for choreographic composition, but practicable by anyone, to put one’s perspective about self and what is other to self, as well as the relations between things, even beyond the human, into question.

correspondances is an ensemble of writing exercises through which to investigate the system of consciousness around verbal language, asking ourselves what words mean from a slightly shifted perspective.

The publication is coproduced by a.pass, nadine, Buda Art Centre, Indisciplinarte, Flanders State of the Art.

lucia palladino is a transdisciplinary artist and researcher in the fields of performance, choreography, and dance. Her practices consist in the elaboration of forms of resistance to notions of identity and ownership naturalized by history and by culture, that define our knowledge and expectations and that need to be undone in order to make space for meeting.

Suzon — both a reprint of Raimundas Malašauskas sold-out book Paper Exhibitions from 2012 and a new collection of writings by the author that have happened since — offers a window onto Malasauskas' worldview, based on collective improvisation, congregation and continuous drift. It includes essays, exhibition guides, personal letters, song lyrics, an opening speech and a cocktail recipe offering a glimpse of what perhaps in a few years we will look back upon as L'esprit du temps.

The publication Suzon is printed on the reverse of the revised edition of Paper Exhibition, which was originally published in 2012 by Sternberg Press, Kunstverein Publishing, Sandberg Institute, and the Baltic Notebooks of Anthony Blunt (Baltish Arts Magazine).

Editors: Tom Engels, Yana Foqué & Krist Gruijthuijsen
Design: Goda Budvytytė
Copy-editor: Stuart Bertolotti-Bailey
Printer: Graphius, Ghent
Publishers: KW Institute for Contemporary Art (Berlin), Grazer Kunstverein (Graz), Kunstverein Publishing (Amsterdam), Baltish Arts Magazine (Vilnius) and Verlag der Buchhandlung Walther und Franz König (Köln).
ISBN: 978-3-7533-0767-1