Essays

How do artists or writers read their own work as it emerges in the studio? If we approach a creation process as an ‘ecology of attention’, then what attitudes, gestures and ways of doing come into view? Bandergewilden unfolds an experimental library of practices and vocabulary to address them.

‘Belingering. In my notebooks I glean ever more verbs and other words, often from artists and essayists who describe what they do in gestural terms. Pointing. Directing attention, marking curiosity. Stroking. Tracing. Touching the world with words, not unlike drawing. With a pencil, a piece of chalk, an antenna. Writing with. Writing alongside. Like taking a walk, stretching out one’s body along the terrain, going along. Attending. Lurking. Sidling. Attending sideways. Practising alongside. Finding oneself in a situation. Cutting along. Squirrelling. Drawing loops. Doodling. More gestures, the mind bending and stretching as it seeks to reach somewhere, leaving scribbles traversing the body, resting on the tip of one’s tongue then venturing out, creating bridges and pathways. Bandergewilden.’ Jeroen Peeters is an essayist, dramaturg and performer, working across the media of writing, not-writing, performance and publication. He researches matters such as ecologies of attention, material literacy, readership, commoning and cultural rewilding.

"Translation, here, is decolonial feminist work." – from the Foreword by Françoise Vergès

What are the histories, constraints, and possibilities of language in relation to bodies, origins, land, colonialism, gender, war, displacement, desire, and migration?

Moving across genres, memories, belongings, and borders, these luminous texts by poets, writers, and translators invite us to consider translation as a form of ethical and political love – one that requires attentive regard of an other – and a making and unmaking of self.

We process our lives through riddles, mysteries, ciphers, and enigmas - but we hesitate to share these with friends and family. In times gone by, as for Freud, dreams were considered a key to cosmic secrets. Today, in all sorts of ways – both subtle and not – we are discouraged from sharing the content of our dreams, unless we happen to be indulging in that most anachronistic ritual: lying prostrate on the psychoanalyst’s couch. Anywhere else, an anecdote that begins, “Last night I dreamed . . .” is usually met with a sigh and a defensive glazing of the eyes. In our over-burdened world, any sharing of dreams is always already perceived as over-sharing. Contrary to this, Pettman argues - the more we share tales of our isolated nocturnal journeys, the better chance we have to understand the topography of our collective conundrum.

Transmissions: Radio Essays on Edges, Crossings and Narrowcasting Borderlands gathers radio essays—created as part of Robida Collective’s project Radio drugega/The Other Radio—which reveal that to speak of “the border” is never to speak of a single line. There are political borders, conceptual borders, bodily borders; carnivalesque borders, where order collapses into play; linguistic and cultural borders, where words slip between languages and where accents become geographies; archival borders, separating memory from forgetting; borders of abandonment, where life and death enter into a dialectical ballet; economic borders, drawn by property, ownership, enclosure; borders of matter, space and time; acoustic borders, where the voice meets noise and incomprehensibility; cosmic borders, where meteors cross the thin edge of air; ecological borders, porous and breathing, where one species touches another. These are some of the borders this book speaks of – lines that do not divide but resonate, that hold together separation and proximity, distance and relation. Together, these essays form a cartography of friction but also affinity, reminding us that to erase all borders is to erase the very conditions of encounter – and that meaning often emerges not at the centre, but at the edges where worlds meet.

With texts by:

Agnes Cameron, Ajda Bračič, Aljaž Škrlep, Antônio Frederico Lasalvia, Giorgia Maurovich, Jack Bardwell, Kate Donovan, Kat Macdonald, Lijuan Klassen, Luca Vettori, Michael Marder, Moritz Gansen, Olya Korsun, Petra Filagrana, Urška Savič.

Aesthetical Relations is a constellation of essays on art, fashion, cancer, comedy, Los Angeles, and your mom. Martinez whips elements of fiction and stand up material into bits and pieces addressing such concerns as: how many times you may kiss an art-world acquaintance, the theoretical stakes of sexting, and why German performance art is like French clowning. Aesthetical Relations is titled after Martinez’s ongoing conceptual comedy talk show of the same name. This new revised and expanded third edition includes new essays written from 2020-2025. 

Christina Catherine Martinez (Mexican American, b. Bellflower, CA) lives and works between Los Angeles, Mexico City, and New England. She was named both a Comedian You Should Know by Vulture and a Comic to Watch by TimeOutLA, and is a recipient of an Andy Warhol Foundation Arts Writers Grant for her varied approaches to art criticism, published in platforms such as The Los Angeles Times, Aperture, Frieze, Artforum, Bookforum, e-flux criticism, DOCUMENT Journal, Dirt.fyi and Texte Zur Kunst.

Publié en 2018 par Kayfa-ta (Égypte), Comment réparer : la maternité et ses fantômes propose une réflexion sur la maternité et ses représentations. Plusieurs fois réimprimé, ce livre jouit d’une très grande réputation dans le monde arabophone, notamment auprès des jeunes générations.Mobilisant différentes formes d’écriture (essai, récit, poème, journal) et des images photographiques tirées de sources diverses (archives personnelles, presse, portraits vernaculaires, etc.), la trame du livre s’articule autour des relations de l’autrice avec sa mère, sa grand-mère et ses deux fils. Déjouant les clichés et les formes narratives établies, Iman Mersal décèle les complexes réseaux symboliques dans lesquels s’inscrivent la filiation et la maternité, depuis la grossesse jusqu’à l’éducation des enfants, et ce de génération en génération.À l’écoute des silences de la mémoire, explorant ses labyrinthes, le livre porte un regard critique sur la violence et le sentiment de culpabilité qui traversent le corps maternel, notamment dans ses rapports au langage, au travail ou aux institutions. Iman Mersal élabore ainsi une sorte d’art poétique : la réparation dont parle le titre passe par l’écriture, elle est donc d’ordre créatif ; mais l’écriture s’insère dans un quotidien qui lui fait obstacle, qui met au défi la possibilité même d’écrire dès qu’on devient mère. Comment réparer : la maternité et ses fantômes est en ce sens un formidable texte de résistance, un geste d’émancipation.

Née en 1966 en Égypte, Iman Mersal est poète et professeur associé de littérature arabe à l’université d’Alberta, au Canada. Ses récents livres sont des écrits très originaux qui mêlent recherche académique et réflexions intimes sur une grande variété de sujets, dont la plupart ont trait à son identité de femme et d’artiste. Une anthologie de ses poèmes – Des choses m’ont échappé (2018) – et un récit – Sur les traces d’Enayat Zayyat (2021) – ont été traduits en français par Richard Jacquemond pour les éditions Actes Sud

A beautiful, expansive essay about care, dependence, and what it means to breathe in an age of environmental catastrophe. 

A few moments after birth we begin to use our lungs for the first time. From then on, we must continue breathing for as long as we are alive. And although this mostly happens unconsciously, in a society plagued by anxiety, climate change, environmental racism, and illness, there are more and more instances that ‘teach us about the privilege that is breathing.’

Why do we so easily forget the air that we breathe in common? What does it mean to breathe when the environment that sustains life now threatens it? And how can life continue to flourish under conditions that are increasingly toxic?

To approach these questions, Jamieson Webster draws on psychoanalytic theory and reflects on her own experiences as an asthmatic teenager, a deep-sea diver, a palliative psychologist during covid, a psychoanalyst attentive to the somatic, and a new mother. The result is a compassionate and timely exploration of air and breathing as a way to undo the pervasive myth of the individual by considering our dependence on invisible systems, on one another, and the way we have violently neglected this important aspect of life.

The Tenant is a monographic critical essay by Marie Canet. It is the first text to directly address the connections between McKenzie’s work, pornography, and special effects. The title refers to the way the artist moves through different periods and aesthetic spaces, appropriating their codes in order to construct new visual fictions. The book is infused with post-#MeToo feminist thinking, alternative uses of biography, reflections on the art world, and contemporary debates surrounding appropriation, embodiment, and the status of the artwork.

McKenzie and Canet worked with each other for over eight years, on projects like Atelier E.B: Passer-by catalogue, published on the occasion of the Fondation Galeries Lafayette exhibition, or the book Pervert or Detective, a conversation between Lucy McKenzie and artist Reba Maybury. This collaboration now culminated in an exhibition and a book: Plastic Newspaper (presented at CRAC Sète in March 2026) and Lucy McKenzie, The Tenant.

Texts by Marie Canet and Lucy McKenzie
Translations: Catherine Petit & Paul Buck (Marie Canet), Juliette Desorgues (Lucy McKenzie)

Published in connection with the exhibition Lucy McKenzie, Plastic Newspaper, at Crac Occitanie, Centre régional d‘art contemporain Occitanie/Pyrénées-Méditerranée à Sète, 21.03.-06.09.26

Organized violence committed on ordinary speech’ is therapy for those who don’t believe in literature as value. Training Exercises is an unpacking of that dictum: seven short essays, letters, reports and anti-biographies written to overcome the feeling of resistance to the defacement of what strikes us as true. An anti-purge written out by lipstick or hammer, scrawled over the top of itself and run through a translation program that turns everything upside inside down, its pieces include: a polemic against catharsis; a letter to the poet Dom Hale on his book Seizures; and a series of on-the-spot reports on the UK Illegal Migration Bill, East London poetry readings, the politics of the war in Ukraine, and a conversation about the meaning of damage in contemporary literature. 

‘First you learn to write down your ideas, then you learn again how to write all of your lurid political and intellectual and intimate disappointments and all of your childhood hopes over the top of them’. Jack Spicer scrawled the name of his book in pink lipstick on the cover of the academic journal he had published in: Training Exercises scrawls itself on top of that.

In I presumed possession, my language, my loss, I begin in third person to write about what it means to lose a mother tongue, and about how that loss is never natural but engineered: by state assessments, border conditions, and a free market of articulation. I write about language as transaction—what you gain in the language of power at the cost of becoming inarticulate in the language of origin. I write about the monolingual paradigm as a political demand rather than a natural inheritance, about standardization as a form of border-drawing, and about the grief of hearing the people you love measured as insufficient. The text moves between the personal and the structural, between a grandmother forgetting and a language policy forbidding. It is about what we lose, and about what we have learned to accept as acceptable to lose.

Cecilie Fang is an anti-disciplinary artist and writer from China and Denmark, based in Amsterdam. Generated through writing, her process-oriented work unfolds across performance, publication, material micro-performativity, and installation.

We stand at the edge of the world’s mercy, as subjects destined to fall. Instead, we posit: what might unfurl when we discard the uniform of the individual, and instead orient towards tinkering with the fluctuating dynamics of desire, value, infrastructure, touch, and language. Don’t be fooled, for the dynamics are brittle. Unrestricted interplay has a limit, and method is to be found at its rim. That a tangible or decorative item may serve as recognition or evidence of merit might somehow become a logic of itself. This publication presents a collection of explorations of excess, limitation, dehydrated thought, proclivity, sublimation, debauchery, and the narrowly-defined. Indeed, the subject is destined to fall, but ultimately does not! As we reckon with the illegibility of merit, we are beckoned to reconsider our relationship to one another, the unseen settings of nostalgia, the monolithic, and the stifling hold that comes not from the absence of violence, but the sheer overabundance of it. The winner just might take it all,but we’re all destined to some sort of trophy.

with Brandon Chow, Jody Aikman, Kessy Paller-Bain, Maximilian Pellizzari, Milda Valiulytė, António Manso, Preto Macarena, Magaña Villar, Sara Vallis, Cecilie Jensen, Iris Verge Ferrer, Mia You, Mehmet Süzgün, Emma Adjari, gervaise alexis savvias, Emanuella Cunt, Greta þorkelsdóttir. Designed by Miglė Lukoševičiūtė

An essential collection of essays on language, the imagination, and the art of words by one of the great literary masters of the last century. 

This book traces a long sweep (1973-2014) through Ursula K. Le Guin's career; offering both a portrait of the author as a philosopher and a reference text for new generations of wordworkers and bookmakers.

Fair: The Life-Art of Translation, is a satirical, refreshing and brilliantly playful book about learning the art of translation, being a bookworker in the publishing industry, growing up, family, and class.

Loosely set in an imagined book fair/art fair/fun fair, in which every stall or ride imitates a real-world scenario or dilemma which must be observed and negotiated, the book moves between personal memories and larger questions about the role of the literary translator in publishing, about fairness and hard work, about the ways we define success, and what it means – and whether it is possible – to make a living as an artist.

Fair is also interested in questions of upbringing, background, support, how different people function in the workplace, and the ways in which people are excluded or made invisible in different cultural and creative industries. It connects literary translation to its siblings in other creative arts to show how creative and subjective a practice it is while upholding the ethics and politics at play when we translate someone else’s work.

Blurring the lines between memoir, autofiction, satire and polemic, Fair is a singularly inventive and illuminating book by one of the UK’s most original and admired writers and translators.

You are asking me where I live and it’s making me think all these things about space, where I start and end in space and where space starts and ends in me and when, in space, I am a body and when I’m a book, in space.

So begins Renee Gladman's Theory for Moving Houses, and with these lines we are invited into a liminal space of imagination and investigation, as Gladman guides us through the architectures of her poetics. Foundational here is a sense of fluidity, a slippage of time, a devotion to “non-linear and hyper gestural movement,” a communal spirit. Gladman’s inquiry into her intersecting practices of writing and drawing reveals a deep commitment to uncertainty and “fictional knowing.” Yet again, Gladman upends traditional expectations of prose, as she leads us through landscape of her Ravicka series novels, ultimately surprising us with a novel within nonfiction. The latest volume in Wave’s Bagley Wright Lecture Series, Theory for Moving Houses is not only visionary in its contemplations but also is a virtuosic example of the ways in which language can shape utopian sites of possibility.

As formally inventive as readers have come to expect from one of the most daring writers around, and as wild and tricky as its subject matter requires, Goblinhood: Goblin as a Mode presents us with a series of essays and poems that playfully, artfully propound JEN CALLEJA'S theory of ‘goblin hood’—a theory that takes in all aspects of pop culture from film, literature and art as well as the author’s personal and original examinations of grief, lust, family histories and the physical fact of living in the world as it is.

Obsessed with green objects, strange pop culture films, and puppets, and haunted by her family memories, Jen Calleja explores in Goblinhood her relationship with her body and self-loathing, desire, sex, food, and grief. She mischievously develops a hybrid thought process that combines essay, autofiction, poetry, and goblin theory.

Goblinhood is a perpetually and variously curious, visceral addition to Calleja’s remarkable oeuvre.

Could a narrative hole, this moment where the text stops, be a text-mouth? We speak of (written) text having a body, a head(ing), foot(notes), a voice. And if there's a voice there could be a mouth, too. A mouth that speaks/voices into the body of the text. A speaking hole for once, not a gap, a caesura, a lacuna, a wound, but a hole endowed with a voice— or voices.

At the limits of language, a hole opens and voices meet, channelled from the abyss through temporalities and histories. Jacques Lacan analyses the wounded text; Hélène Cixous whispers to anarchist poet Katerina Gogou; theorist Carla Lonzi, artist Chiara Fumai, and her army of women dissidents invade the symbolic realm of father, state, law, and religion.

A canon of disorderly voices from philosophy, psychoanalysis, poetry, and fictional characters converse, connected by the appearance of K. The Hole is an epistolary work written in multiple forms, approaching the unsayable in a jouissant textual body, considering broken narratives and minor literatures through an investigation of (textual) holes, wounds (trauma), and the mouth (voice/language). Poetry operates as strategy of resistance and revolt, against systemic power structures and against closure. Wounds must stay open to speak.

Looking at pictures, she was reminded of the lack of time. And anyway, where did all the time go?

In Day Book a woman artist looks at time in an address to quotidian events and their unfolding. Exploring motherhood, unpaid labour, childcare, and the time of the artist, she reads the work of contemporary women filmmakers through the earlier works of filmmakers, writers, and photographers, including Chantal Akerman and Marguerite Duras, Natalia Ginzburg and Christa Wolf, Bertien van Manen and Bernadette Mayer. The inability to capture the accumulation of days emerges—a form without form, day after day after day.

Written between 1984 and 1995, this new edition collects three essays by Etel Adnan meditating on a life lived in motion: intellectual, geographic, linguistic and artistic perpetual motion. Published in honor of Adnan’s centennial (2025), these essays are a beacon and remain a piercing and profound model for reckoning with and surviving our times of war and exile.

Voyage, War, and Exile collects three essays by Etel Adnan that present a multilayered meditation on the author’s life within and without Beirut. Adnan reflects upon the intricacies of family, place, and language, asking what it means to be an Arab woman and writer in exile at the end of a century in which “Exile became the existential and metaphysical condition for every Arab.” At once deeply personal to the life of the author and yet ubiquitous in inquiry, Voyage, War, Exile pulls us into the shifting landscape of Lebanon and the United States in the 20th Century through a weaving of philosophical reflection and memory. This volume includes artwork by Simone Fattal.

Praise for Etel Adnan

The work of Etel Adnan—poet, painter, philosopher—is an interrogation of the human experience and a study in worldly engagement…Sorting through decades of memory, loss, and linguistic turns, we drift with her in a sea of thought and expansive meditation. —K.B. Thors, The Lambda Literary Review

Her poetry has the capacity to assemble and discern the ‘sides’ of the self as well as the literature and literary personalities which frame the self of her writing. —Matt Turner, Hyperallergic

Adnan’s receptivity is evident in her fine-tuned attention to detail, at the microscopic and cosmic level alike. Her lens shifts in scale and orientation, defamiliarizing the surroundings we thought we knew and re-introducing us to nature.—Noa Micaela Fields, Medium

Traduction d'un essai original de Thalia Vacha, publié le 11 mars 2025 sous le titre No Cis Person Will Read This Essay, via son compte Substack @transexile. 

Ce texte est rugueux, sinueux, urgent, complexe. Mais ce que nous y avons trouvé en le traduisant dépasse ce potentiel abrasif. Pour son autrice, être trans, c'est surtout une façon de faire relation : la transitude est un désaccord, mais aussi un engagement. Transitionner, c'est-à-dire (entre autres) désavouer un système normatif de genre qui nous enserre et nous sépare, peut se faire et se penser de plein de manières différentes, et toutes ces manières nous distribuent sur un spectre qui, paradoxalement, serait à même de nous rassembler. 

C'est un texte propre à dissoudre nos mauvaises fois et réfléchir la politisation de nos identités sous un nouveau jour. 

From award-winning novelist and cultural critic Lynne Tillman, Paying Attention is the first collection of essays devoted to her incisive, provocative, and singular reflections on art and culture.

Paying Attention gathers more than fifty of the best and varied examples of Lynne Tillman’s writings in reference to art and culture published over the course of forty years. In essays that operate outside typical categories or genres, Tillman reflects on forms including film, painting, photography, poetry, and fiction, as well as notions of fame, originality, embodied viewing and thinking, collective activity, aging, illness, American identity, cultural politics, modernity, strangeness, and time. Such is the stuff that relates art to life, and life to art.

Collected mainly from museum and gallery catalogues, artists’ books and monographs, her column in Frieze, and magazines including Aperture and Artforum, these meditations on artists and writers, in the broadest sense of these labels, collide as a portrait of our cultural moment. Tillman’s inventive use of language and lateral thought, her ability to evoke conditions of the larger world in often just two thousand words on a specific artwork or individual, make her one of the most significant critics of our time. As she acknowledges, in a piece on the artist Robert Gober, “In writing on art, words reach for other words, phrases, idioms, and through them more images and ideas leap out.” In her introduction, Elizabeth Schambelan notes that a hallmark of Tillman’s writing alongside artists is an “elegant rendering of complexity,” and in approaching Tillman’s body of work and thought, Schambelan herself imbricates the art, voice, and language of criticism.

Rage is not just a feeling—it’s fuel.

The Hajar Book of Rage ignites the first spark in the elements anthology series, harnessing the primordial force of fire as a fury that destroys and transforms. Bringing together fiction, poetry and essays by writers of colour, this Fire-themed collection delves into the fierce, animating power of rage as a catalyst for revolutionary change.

Here, rage teaches. It reveals what we’re fighting against and what we’re fighting for. It mobilises us into action, rouses our ideals and refuses to let us compromise. And it is unruly and consuming—a blaze that resists containment.

This is a searing tribute to the fires of anger that fuel our resistance and burn down the worlds that cannot hold us.

The Hajar Book of Rage is the first book in elements, a series by Hajar Press on the politically transformative power of Fire, Earth, Water and Air.

Enfin la traduction en français du best-seller de Jen Calleja, qui sera présente pour une lecture croisée. Repassez vos capes et astiquez vos chaînettes. 

La figure du gobelin est espiègle, marginale, répugnante et fascinante et le mode gobelin peut être envisagé comme un mode de vie à part entière.

Jen Calleja, depuis son obsession pour les objets verts et les marionettes, ses souvenirs familiaux, son rapport au corps et au dégoût de soi, au chagrin, au sexe et au deuil, propose avec malice une pensée hybride entre essai, auto-fiction, poésie et théorie de la gobelinité.

En chacunx de nous, suggère-t-elle, sommeille un gobelin qu’il est temps de libérer. 

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

Why be the object when you can dive into yourself and archive your own adolescence? And what about this adolescence when it lasts until the late thirties, and expands beyond the traditional understanding of age group? 

This volume redefines the coming-of-age genre by addressing the contours of the obsession with the prolonged teenager years. Contemporary art views adolescence as a mental state, a condition that has eroded the traditional markers of the passage into adulthood; not a transitory phase but a prolonged mode of being or even a critique of a world that itself refuses to stabilize.

Extramentale, a curatorial platform on teenage aesthetics, was founded by Julia Marchand, the editor of this book, which spans the period from the platform's creation in 2016 through to its eventual closure in 2026. It gave voice to artist-adolescents and author-adolescents, mainly millennials and Gen Zers.

Adolescent artists of the Extramentale program and beyond contributed to this publication by sharing their words on the many dimensions of the adolescence: Robin Plus, Gaia Vincensini, Raphaëlle Serre, Linda Voorwinde, Tohé Commaret, Louise Nicolas de Lamballerie, Caroline Poggi, Jonathan Vinel, Kevin Blinderman, Mohamed Bourouissa, Michal Novotný, Laura Owens, Magda Szpecht, Thomas Liu Le Lann, Velvet Aubry, Arnaud Dezoteux, Prune Phi, Alban Diaz, Ant Łakomsk, Liselor Perez, Francesca Grilli, Camille Aleña, Joanna Kordjak, and Katarzyna Kołodziej-Podsiadło; interviewed by Venice-based researchers Cecilia Larese, Vittoria Morpurgo, and Julia Marchand.