Join us for an online event organised by Kunstlicht dedicated to celebrating the World Taste & Smell Day. This event will feature contributors from the Nosetalgia issue, including artists, perfumers, and scholars, engaging in captivating discussions about the intersection of smell and nostalgia, and how olfaction bridges the gap between memories and emotions.
“The interdisciplinary contributions to the Kunstlicht Nosetalgia issue reinforced the cultural importance of our sense of smell and how it fuels our daily life, interactions and memories. We hope that this event helps start new conversations around our sense of smell and how it enriches our lives as well as draws new audiences.” – Sofia Collette Ehrich
World Taste & Smell Day, observed annually on September 14th, serves as a global platform to honour and appreciate the essential senses of taste and smell. Established during the pandemic, this day underscores the importance of taste and smell and extends support to individuals navigating taste and smell impairments, as well as innovators, creators, and scientists.
Millions across the globe contend with taste and smell impairments. The COVID-19 pandemic drew attention to these challenges. While smell or taste loss linked to the virus has largely subsided, over 27 million individuals worldwide continue to grapple with chemosensory loss. Additionally, approximately 5% of the global population already experience smell dysfunctions due to various causes such as brain injuries, diseases, drug reactions, chemical exposure, and congenital anosmia.
Guest editor: Manuela Zammit
Deadline: 31 August 2023
Published: February 2024
“From the continuous flow and punctuations of the audible, a range of capacities and potentialities may be found. In particular, the shifting flows of vibrancy and reverberance that often shape our interactions with the world and with others…”
Brandon LaBelle, Sonic Agency: Sound and Emergent Forms of Resistance.
We are thrilled to announce a call for papers for the upcoming issue of Kunstlicht dedicated to the theme of reverberant ecologies. We are looking forward to explore the interconnectedness and interdependence of ecological systems through the affordances of sound and sonic practices.
In the face of a rapidly unfolding climate catastrophe and widening social and economic inequalities, we find ourselves in urgent need of alternative ways of relating to ourselves, other humans, non-humans, and the material world at large. Western ocularcentric systems of knowledge (including artistic ones) have for a long time relied too much on sight as the privileged sense through which to engage with the world. In their quest for enacting ways of relating otherwise, contemporary artists have been tuning into the world’s vibrational energy.
Often informed by methods and theories from sound studies, eco-acoustics, and acoustemology, among other fields, artists have been working with the fluid materiality of sound – or what Salomé Voegelin has termed as “sound’s invisible formlessness” – to understand how sonic waves actively produce material reality, and to access dimensions of reality that continuously elude vision. Sound artist and theorist Brandon LaBelle has observed that, “As forceful movements – of rhythmic and resonant intensities, of vibrational and volumetric interruptions – sound works to unsettle and exceed arenas of visibility by relating us to the unseen, the non-represented or the not-yet-apparent…” In other words, becoming more attuned to the sonic dimension of our material reality, is one way to rethink specific assumptions about aspects of material reality that rely on sight, such as culturally-constructed delineations of material entities. Artistic engagement with sound and its affordances has indeed been shifting the focus from practices of representation to practices of mediation, and from practices of looking to those of (deep) listening and attunement.
Installation view of Adaptation of an Instrument, Dora Budor, 2016.
For instance, Dora Budor’s Adaptation of an Instrument (2016) is a dynamic environment where the audience’s moving bodies within the art space animate the amphibian rain scene from the 1999 film Magnolia that is installed in the ceiling. In this work and various others, Budor employs vibrational frequency, including the volume of the audience’s voice, as an affective force that induces a performative (re)action in the work. Here, the traditional subject-object relation is subverted by establishing an atmospheric relation between the audience and the artwork, where the air functions as a transformative space that turns sound into light or movement.
Still from, Acoustic Ocean, Ursula Biemann, 2018, video installation, 18’.
In Acoustic Ocean (2018), Ursula Biemann sets out to explore the sonic ecology of marine life. Equipped with all sorts of hydrophones, parabolic microphones, and recording devices, she amplifies her sensing abilities and tries to detect underwater acoustic forms of expression on the Lofoten Islands in Northern Norway. What can the sounds and infrasounds of marine life tell us about environmental health, natural rhythms, and our future on planet Earth that observable phenomena cannot? How does listening – to both that which is audible and that which sounds beyond the human sensorial range – possibly change our relationship with other sounding beings and so-called silent subjects?
In turn, Mikhail Karikis’ Children of Unquiet (2013-14) explores the potentialities opened up by sound-making referred to by LaBelle, by orchestrating a children’s aural and physical take-over of a deserted former workers’ village situated in the Devil’s Valley in Tuscany. As the children laugh, play, and read out loud amid their surroundings, their sonic intervention is both an individual and communal form of expression that challenges a failed narrative of industrial modernism and evokes other possible, and perhaps more emancipatory futures.
Still from Children of Unquiet, Mikhail Karikis, 2013-14.
Because sound is a fluid material and unfolds in the space between entities across various scales, reverberation links them into an entangled and situated existence. Reverberation points to the liveliness and eventness of all beings; to a corporeality that exceeds the sounding body, and persists across time and space. This emphasises the notion that earthly life is a matter of dynamic processes of co-becoming and material interchange. As we intently and unintentionally vibrate with and through other beings, our collective reverberation sonically and symbolically confounds the traditional Western subject-object relation by alerting us to the ways in which we are simultaneously agent and acted upon. Reverberation reveals the desired and the troublesome, the directed and the diffused, and the unexpected and unknown ways in which everything is spatiotemporally and intimately bound. Reverberation is therefore not only a physical phenomenon that describes the persistent quality of sound in space, but also a valuable conceptual tool for thinking about the long-lasting impact of activated materialities.
Artist and self-proclaimed ‘incarnated agent of healing’ Tabita Rezaire has poetically affirmed that “sound is the creative force behind our manifested reality. Thus from the cosmic primal sound, all material form – as in matter – was birthed and still keeps birthing. Everything has a vibratory frequency, even if inaudible (…) The human pursuit is then to find that sound and resound in that sound, so as to vibrate in unison with the vibratory frequency of infinity.” Rezaire wrote these words in the context of the primarily human endeavour of decolonial healing, but they could just as well apply to all animate and inanimate beings. Vibration, then, is a process of becoming in the biological, social, and cultural sense.
In this issue of Kunstlicht, we invite you to think with us about reverberation in an expanded manner in order to explore the relationality of sound and sonic practices, especially (but certainly not limited to) those within the contemporary visual arts. We find ourselves questioning: what does it mean to state that ecologies are inherently reverberant things? And that reverberant bodies are affective bodies? How can we conceive of reverberation as a creative and transformative force? What are the possible ethical, political, aesthetic, and epistemological implications of being more attentive to the ways in which bodies extend themselves towards each other and become entangled through their vibrational energy? And how could being more receptive to other bodies’ reverberance help us address shared longings, navigate the ecological crisis, and form new “vibratory models of alliance” against social injustice?
We invite scholars, artists, listeners, musicians, sound-makers, and practitioners from various disciplinary backgrounds and from all stages in their academic, creative or professional practice to think with us about these questions and submit a proposal for essays, interviews, poems and other poetic and experimental texts, prose, scores, playlists, and visual or aural works that vibe with the theme of reverberant ecologies.
Proposals (200-300 words) with attached résumés and related image material can be sent to redactie@tijdschriftkunstlicht.nl by no later than August 31, 2023. Selected contributors will be notified shortly thereafter and invited to write a 2,500/3,000-word essay (excluding (foot)notes), or to submit an artistic contribution.
Please note: Contributors who publish in Kunstlicht will receive three complimentary copies. Kunstlicht is a volunteer-run academic journal and is unable to provide an author’s honorarium. Three years following publication, essay contributions will be uploaded to the freely accessible online archive.
Manuela Zammit is a contemporary art historian, editor, and critic based between The Netherlands and Malta. She has recently graduated with a Research Master in Critical Studies in Art & Culture from Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam. Her thesis titled “Posthuman Corporealities: Encounters Within and Without the Self” focuses on contemporary artistic engagements with feminist (re)theorisations of the body and subjectivity. While her research interests are broad and ever-changing, her ongoing inquiry is centred around expanded notions of embodiment and relationality in contemporary art practices, particularly within the contexts of ecology and new media. She previously completed a MFA in Contemporary Curating at Manchester Metropolitan University and is a regular contributor to the Dutch contemporary art magazine Metropolis M. She is also part of Kunstlicht’s editorial board.
In your hands, is one of Lucille Lefrang’s nosetalgic memories, collected and produced as part of her article for the Kunstlicht journal titled, A Year of Fear of Losing You. We invite you to hold the card to your nose, breathe deeply, and join our space of collective nosetalgia.
The Nosetalgia issue of Kunstlicht explores the theme of nostalgic feelings and olfaction (AKA our sense of smell). Often associated with an aesthetic – Instagram filters and vintage caricatures – can we take a more sensory approach to nostalgic perception? Artists, perfumers, and scholars contribute their thoughts, anecdotes and analyses of how smell plays an integral role to our nostalgic perceptions. The issue was guest edited by Sofia Collette Ehrich and Amarens Eggeraat.
To order the Nosetalgia issue of Kunstlicht click here.
Credits:
The smell was created by Lucille Lefrang and the smell cards were printed by Olfapac. The card was financed by Kunstlicht. The creative direction of this card was led by Sofia Collette Ehrich.
The design of the card was created by Lisa Marie Sneijder.
About Kunstlicht:
Kunstlicht is an academic journal for art, visual culture, and architecture. Three issues are published each year; two single issues and one double issue, each focusing on one specific theme. The journal was founded in 1980.
The editorial board consists of students and alumni of the Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam with diverse research interests. The journal has been completely volunteer-run from top to bottom since its beginning. The journal is affiliated with the Arts and Culture department at the Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, but operates as an autonomous foundation. Kunstlicht is designed by Corine van der Wal.
This smell card was originally made for the Kunstlicht journal’s Nosetalgia issue printed in May 2023. The smell card is paired with one of the issue’s article submissions titled A Year of Fear of Losing You written by perfumer Lucille Lefrang.
It is time to celebrate! Twice even. Come join us at our launch event on March 31, 2023 from 19:00 to celebrate the publication of our latest two issues Labour of Love and Failing on Timeat Kunstinstituut Melly in Rotterdam.
We will host inspiring talks and panels by authors from both issues. See the programme below:
Introduction by editor-in-chief Lisa Marie Sneijder
Labour of Love
Presentation by line kramer on her article ‘Love Letters to a Room’
Failing on Time
Introduction Failing on Time by Dunja Nešovic
Presentation by Daphne de Sonneville on her article ‘Riotous Repetition: Mutant Flowers, Baroque Architecture and Slapstick Comedy’
Discussion with Monika Dybalska and Benedikt Rudischhauser
With the issue Labour of Love, we wanted to ask whether there is such a thing as a labour of love. As young people entering the workforce, we accept jobs that forego adequate monetary compensation for the work we do, only to be ‘paid’ in exposure, experience, or emotional fulfilment. At Kunstlicht, we have heard ourselves explain our efforts to participate in the art world despite this as ‘a labour of love’. Yet, while putting this issue together, it became obvious that this explanation fell short of the phrase.
In the issue Failing on Time we explore the dynamic between time and failure, and ways in which this conjunction informs our thoughts and feelings regarding agency, inevitability, urgency and possibility. As guest editor Dunja Nešović elaborates, by examining recursive failures, consequences of wrong timing, and failures produced in, with or out of time, the selected works in this issue identify the pathways they open for resistance, profit-making, expansion and artistic production.
We hope to see you on the 31st of March!
Credits for the cover image:
Left – Epna promotional material:Leave New York, 1975, 28 x 42 cm, E05.01, The Archives: Peter van Beveren Library, The Hague.
Right – RISOWISO adaptation of Daphne de Sonneville, Portrait of a Woman (c. 1650) by Frans Hals (top right), A poster-poem (1965-66) by Aram Saroyan (bottom right), Pompom Dahlia ‘Franz Kafka’ (left), 2023, watercolour rendering, 210 × 297 mm.
Guest editors: Maja Bekan and Angela Serino
Deadline: 3 April 2023
Published: September/October 2023
In 1978, feminist writer Kate Millett founded an art colony for women on a piece of land with a run-down farmhouse on the outskirts of Poughkeepsie, in the state of New York. In Millett’s vision, the colony was a ‘corner’ where women could live together ‘as after the revolution.’ The revolution being a radical change much needed to transform the social, cultural and political system that discriminated against women, which she had acutely analysed in Sexual Politics (1970). [1]
Operating initially only in summer, women would work on the Farm for at least five hours a day – carrying on tasks often never done before, such as clearing fields, pruning spruce trees, and fixing both buildings and machinery – , and they would then spend the remaining time on their art practice.
The Farm was not immune from the ambivalences and conflicts often coming with collective projects, however, for its duration it was a place of support for women, both hetero and queer,in several ways. [2] It offered a concrete place to focus on one’s work, facilities, mentorships, collective moments that helped create a community where women could produce and discuss their work, while experimenting with a new sexual and social identity.
Kate Millett on the roof of the Farm, photograph from the archival collection of Michelle Koals, former resident Courtesy: Michelle Koals
Millett’s project with all its contradictions works here as inspiration to open up and discuss desirable, not yet existing but necessary forms of support for artists. In this issue we want to make space for all that sustains and thus shapes an art practice, what bears, props and holds up, what allows someone to stand as an artist today.
We’d like to invite you to share your ideas of structures that support you, or imagine what structures can open up a new space that you need, hope, aspire to find and inhabit as an artist or art worker.
Supports can be forms of organisation, (institutional) practices, but also principles, conditions or objects that should be there to create a change or a betterment of what is available now for you as a parent artist, a mature (woman) artist, a care-giver, a love-maker or more.
How would this that holds you – temporarily, or even permanently – would look like? What elements would be made of?
Artists do not operate in isolation. On the contrary, their work develops and thrives in relation to a community, through cultivation of relationships and networks of influence, and according to the presence – or lack thereof – of specific possibilities, concrete material conditions and institutional arrangements. There is not ‘a genius artist’, rather, as pointed out by art historian Linda Nochlin in the 1970s, and echoed more recently by artist Mary Jirmanus Saba. [3] The idea of artistic genius or talent is in itself reflecting a specific idea of art and artistic practice (patriarchy), where the conditions for producing art are made invisible. “It seems probable that the answer to why there have been no great women artists lies not in the nature of individual genius or the lack of it, but in the nature of given social institutions and what they forbid or encourage in various classes or groups of individuals.” [4]
In artists Céline Condorelli’s and Gavin Wade’s words, supports are “things that encourage, give comfort, approval, and solace; care for and provide consolation and the necessities of life. (..) [Support is] that which advocates, articulates, substantiates, champions and endorses; what stands behind, underpins, frames, presents, maintains, and strengthens.”[5]
For us it is also all that which inhabits the space in between ‘the erected’ and ‘the inclined’, as articulated by philosopher Adriana Cavarero.
In Inclinations (2016), Cavarerodescribes two geometrical shapes – the verticality and the relational –, as two models of subjectivity, which are also two postural ethics, different and in opposition.
The first is a model of subjectivity that represents the subject as an erect, autonomous, and rational self. Like the standing ‘I’ penned on a page, it is ‘retto’ as vertical and it also speaks of ‘rectitude’ because it does not deviate.
For Cavarero it represents the western subject, praised precisely for his ability to both be standing and be right, thanks to his own individual efforts. “Philosophers know that man rises and becomes vertical in many ways: standing upright, rising above the beasts, or more maliciously above one’s fellow men, rising towards God, standing rightly, and even as Kant says, rising above himself.”[6]
When we look at ‘the relational’, instead, here the essential dimension is the inclination towards the other. Using several examples from philosophy, art and literature, she makes a plea to recognise the centrality of this alternative geometry. The inclination hints to a movement, it is a ‘predisposition to respond’, not yet the action itself. However, what gives the input for a possible movement is acknowledging the vulnerability and the interdependence from one another as shared conditions of all human beings.
Commenting on Cavarero’s work, philosopher Judith Butler adds a further interpretation to this relation and recognises that the inclined and the upright figure are ‘never fully oppositional’, “for the upright posture is from the start formed by a history of inclining and leaning out, enabling and disabling care, faltering and falling, a history that does not precisely come to an end, even for the most self-standing of the able-bodied among us.”[7]
Her words suggest that, in short, the I is never alone. “Before or after [standing], or in a moment of failing, doubt, or physical impossibility, the I may be supported by someone, or by more than one person or structure.”[8]
Inspired by these ideas, we’d like to put our attention precisely on this space of relations and possibilities between what stands and what helps someone to stand in the art world.
In particular, we want this to be the occasion for a more extended conversation, one that refers to women artists but not only. Thus, we welcome contributions that use the history (past and present) of women artists and their ongoing challenge of normative rules, to propose models, actions, concepts that can better support the work of artists on every level.
Contributions can refer to concrete as well as imaginary supports for change. They can be inspired by ideas of radical care, (im)possible sisterhood, motherhood, friendship, collective and feminist practices in general.
The following are examples of what support can mean:
MATERNAL FANTASIES, Wattenmeer / Wadden Sea (2019), Landpartie 02 (series), film still / photographic print, Courtesy of the artists.
Maja Bekan, ‘Troublemakers And Other Wayward Subjects?’ 2018,print, Courtesy of the artist.
We accept artworks, interviews, conversations, scripts, articles, academic texts, analyses of artworks, manifestos and poetic reflections.
Proposals (200-300 words) with attached résumés and related image material can be submitted until April 3, 2023 via redactie@tijdschriftkunstlicht.nl. Selected authors and artists will be invited to write a 2,500-word paper (excluding notes) or submit an artistic contribution.
Authors who publish in Kunstlicht will receive three complimentary copies. Kunstlicht is a volunteer-run academic journal and is not able to provide an author’s honorarium; time is compensated with time. Three years following publication, papers will be submitted to the freely accessible online archive.
Maja Bekan and Angela Serino are long-time friends and collaborators. They first met at Kunsthuis SYB, a residency in Friesland, and later initiated “Bodies at Work”, a project that wanted to voice what kind(s) of “work” it is that art and cultural workers do. Involving various collaborations, “Bodies at Work” consisted of small-scale performances, lectures, conversations, and printed materials. The project was launched in 2012 and was hosted by ADA Rotterdam, Institute for Provocation, Beijing, China; Bar, Barcelona, Spain; Remont Gallery, Belgrade, Serbia.
Maja Bekan
Maja Bekan is performance and visual artist. Bekan’s work explores and questions mediation and delegation of artwork production. She is interested in a collaborative and social approach to explore personal histories, truths, economies and social relations. Bekan works on long-term research-based projects that involve different levels of collaboration, presented to the public in the form of performances, site-specific environments, and video/audio/text-based installations. The protagonists of Bekan’s work are often women: artists, activists, students, retirees, and people seeking a place for themselves in difficult circumstances.
She was artist in residence at ISCP New York, Delfina Foundation London, AIR Laboratory (U-jazdowski) Warsaw, IFP Beijing China and AIR Berlin Alexanderplatz.
Maja Bekan has exhibited work at Tent, Rotterdam, ISCP New York, Ujazdowski Castle Centre for Contemporary Art, Warsaw; Kunsthaus, Graz; Van Abbemuseum, Eindhoven, Melly (former Witte de With) Rotterdam, Casco Art Institute among others.
Angela Serino is a writer, researcher and curator based in Amsterdam who has worked with artists’ residencies in various roles – as curator of temporary residency projects (RedLight Art Amsterdam), as part of the artistic committee of Kunsthuis SYB (NL), and as curator in residency of several international programmes. She curated ‘Residencies as Learning Environments’, the international meeting for Artists-in-Residencies initiated by FARE (2015), and wrote on time and residencies for Kunstlicht’s ‘Unpacking Residencies’ issue (2018), and DutchCulture | TransArtists’ magazine ‘Station to Station’ (2022).
She is the co-founder of ARRC, a collective that studies art residencies, with fellow researchers Pau Catà (Barcelona), Morag Iles (Newcastle), Miriam La Rosa (Melbourne) and Patricia Healy Mcmeans (Minneapolis). She is interested in individual and collective moments of research, self-reflection and learning around residencies programs.
She is currently working on her archive as a way to retrace and discuss ideas of care, time and artistic production.
Angela graduated in Mass Communication at the University of Siena with a thesis on Interactivity and Art and attended the Curatorial Programme at de Appel art centre in Amsterdam.
[1] ‘I wanted to see if we could find some little corner of the world to live in, where we could live a life we imagined, but couldn’t live in the rest of the world. Well now it seems to me .. if you are going to believe in a certain way to live after you fix everything, you ought to have a taste of it now just to see if it’s worth it. And have some experience at that so you know how to do it and you could work on it. So that’s the purpose of what is otherwise a kind of utopian scheme. If it weren’t connected with the whole notion of social change going on in the real world that you’re also committed to, you’d just be running away.’ Kate Mille, The Farm, July 1985, in S.O.J. Sisters of Jam, A Piece of Land, 2014, p.133.
[2] The colony was very much dependent on Millet’s presence and investments. It became self-sustainable by growing and selling Christmas’ trees, only several decades later than originally planned. Communal life did not come without tensions and continuous adjustments in group dynamics. ‘I suppose we bonded, but I also remember that we argued just about every day we were on the site.’, in S.O.J, op. cit., p.167.
[3] Mary Jirmanus Saba, ‘Boston, June 2019 (Or “Artstic Genius is a Myth of the Colonial Patricarchy: Part One”)’, in ‘Why Call it Labour?, ArchiveBooks 2021, pp. 25-38.
[5] Céline Condorelli, Gavin Wade, James Langdon,Support Structures, Sternberg Press, 2014, p. 6.
[6] Adriana Cavarero, Inclinations: A Critique of Rectitude,Stanford University Press, Stanford, 2016, p. 97.
[7] Judith Butler, ‘Leaning Out, Caught in the Fall: Interdependency and Ethics in Cavarero’, in: Huzar, Timothy J. and Woodford, Clare, Toward a Feminist Ethics of Nonviolence, Fordham University Press, 2021, p. 59.
Guest editor: Sofia Collette Ehrich and Amarens Eggeraat
Deadline: 19 December 2022
Published: May 2023 Smelling the past
Scent-by-Mail program for Common Fantasy (German side); Research for the Bermuda Triangle [Regina Mamou + Lara Salmon]; 2020–2022. Photograph courtesy of the artists.In our everyday life, nostalgia (“a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition”) often equates to some sort of past aesthetic or sound – the playlist of Nemo’s Dreamscapes on YouTube (“Oldies music playing in another room and it’s raining, w/fire crackling + windstorm”), for example. Many of us constantly long to connect to and experience a piece of the past. But so far, it seems that nostalgia is mostly being explored through audiovisual mediums, missing many of the ways that nostalgia can actually be felt. This is where smell can play a significant part.
Guest editor: Dunja Nešović Deadline: 21 August 2022 Published: January 2023
Failure – the notorious F-word – is inevitable. The discrepancy between the expectation (or promise) and the ability (or willingness) that produces failure can equally result in catastrophe, resistance, or even mundane disappointment. The different manifestations and outcomes of failure correspond to anthropologist Arjun Appadurai and media scholar Neta Alexander’s proposal that failure is a judgment.[1] As a judgment, failure is defined by both the structures of its appearance and the agents producing and affected by it.
We’re happy to announce the launch of the new issue of Kunstlicht at BAK on June 10 at 18:30. The issue is titled Algorhythms: Living in and out of Sync with Technology. We are looking forward to seeing to in Utrecht!
Guest editor: the editorial team Deadline: 18 April Published: October 2022
In All About Love (1999),bell hooks remarks that values of money and work have replaced love and community. This reverberates to the present tense, when a crisis of compassion has become a hot topic in the healthcare industry. It goes without saying that hooks wishes to reverse this, and “return to love”. Love is a tender dissent to the disarming structures of capitalism.
This event was originally planned on February 18, but due to bad weather the event has been postponed to February 26. Our apologies and we hope to see you there.
Location: VU Art Science Gallery, De Boelelaan 1111, Amsterdam, The Netherlands Date: 26 February, 2022, 4-6 pm Time: TBD
Join us for an evening in the VU Art Science Gallery, amidst the exhibition that inspired it all. This launch is hosted by the guest editor of this issue, Maria Chiara Miccoli, and Kunstlicht’s editors-in-chief, Joyce Poot and Anna Sejbæk Torp-Pedersen.
Meanwhile, Bar Boele will serve drinks infused with sonic bubbles by DJ Zero and the illustrious OMFO.
In this issue of Kunstlicht, the reader is invited to investigate how zero has captured the imagination of scientists and philosophers alike. This issue of Kunstlicht compliments the exhibition 0 Starting from Zero, which features the artworks of Jennifer Tee, Jan Robert Leegte, Evelina Domnitch & Dmitry Gelfand and Nicky Assmann, who visualise various aspects of the number zero. The contributions in this issue philosophically expand on the concept of sūnya and zero even further, whilst simultaneously interpreting this concept as a void and /or a fullness.
JENNIFER TEE, ATOMS SERIES #2, 2016, HAHNEMÜHLE MUSEUM ETCHING PAPER, 350 GMS (FRAMED), 66,5 X 66,5 CM (EACH). EDITION OF 3. COURTESY GALERIE FONS WELTERS, AMSTERDAM. PHOTO GERT JAN VAN ROOIJ.
