Tag: gender
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4 generations of women topography
Fragments of text, film and photography: artist Tereza Stehlikova explores the bonds between the 4 women within her family.
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+ Other Cartographies
Kiara Marina Firpi Carrión reveals the motivations behind + Other Cartographies, a research project to highlight work by women map-makers.
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Time Go Slow / The Violence Raga
Two new poems by Jonaki Ray exploring gender, marriage, migration, music, violence and the possibility of justice.
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Natural Selection
Freud would have loved this exhibition. Ostensibly Natural Selection – a collaboration between artist Andy Holden and his father, ornithologist Peter Holden – is about birds, nests and eggs. It’s actually about art, sex and death. As a philosophy undergraduate I was lucky enough be taught by the phenomenologist Dermot Moran. Phenomenology, he explained in…
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Green Boots
The water falls on her head, on her face, around her ears. She sits on the floor and it falls encasing her in the only shelter she has found in this house. She feels safe, she must be, no one can demand anything from her while she´s in the shower. Her back hurts. Her feet,…
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Matriarchs, Monsters and Feral Children
Mary Wollstonecraft. Frankenstein’s monster. The Capitoline Wolf. Mary Shelley. Four names, four figures forming a strange kind of family, if we can call it that. Perhaps better to say, ‘a pack’. Each is linked to other in a lineage of imagination, creation, or birth. There is a shared marginality. Each was believed somehow to have…
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Were
We have been taught to believe that werewolves only change into their cursed form on full-moon nights, but perhaps – and this is speculation – on nights without full moons, the animal shape, which is the cursed form, still awakens within the werewolf, yet it cannot be seen, only sensed. Maybe werewolves spend any night…
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A Hole at the Core
I re-encounter the incised apple indirectly, in the mirror-image. Glancing across rows of burnished half-pint beer glasses, their reflections bounced back and forth on opposing glass surfaces, it is on display: residue from an earlier foray into bar preparation, when my back was turned to Carlsberg drinkers and finickerty Guinness drinkers, who verily pour the…
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Unrelated
A young woman slams her naked body furiously against a wall, again, again, and again, so brutally that I have to remind myself to breathe. Only moments before, I’d carefully sidestepped her as she lay on the floor, unclothed, motionless, and with her eyes shut. I filed into the studio along with the rest of…
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Mildew
Never forgive, I said that morning just as I do every morning, by the window, waiting for dawn. Never forgive. Whom? Constanza? Which one of them? Never forgive her, the young Constanza, or myself, the old one? I did not know, all I knew was: I was never to forgive. ‘It hasn’t been that long,…