uncommon books at the intersection of art and literature


✼ news:

Bernadette Mayer passed away on November 22, 2022. We share our sorrow with her family and friends, with her devoted students, and with the many writers and readers who knew a truth-teller, a risk-taker, a shaman of daily life when they saw one.

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excerpts

MEMORy — by Bernadette Mayer: July 15, 1971: “what century & in what city do you see & do you see a faster way, find a faster way to get to the line that goes in all directions flame no continuing space a space to live in flame

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excerpts

MEMORY — “My name is Bernadette Mayer, sometimes / I am at the head of my class,” —Mayer quoted in the biography written by daughter Marie Warsh

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✼ news:

Use code BODYTOBODY until Monday, December 5 for 30% off almost everything (including limited editions but not Siglio Advocate subscriptions).

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books

THE HOTEL by Sophie Calle  |  You do not read The Hotel: you step into it, lie down, feel and smell the personal items of the unwitting guests Calle, posing as a maid … documented with her camera and daily writing. —Frieze

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reviews

Photo-Eye  |  THE HOTEL by SOPHIE CALLE: “Calle proves that few if any spaces are ours and ours alone” —Odette England

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reviews

New Yorker  |  THE HOTEL BY SOPHIE CALLE: “What interests her most is the seduction and projection involved in knowing another person” —Lili Owen Rowlands

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✼ elsewhere:

“How do you know where the boundaries of a life are? How do you know where to stop? Or when something doesn’t apply?” —Nicole Rudick in conversation with Sam Stephenson at AIR/LIGHT

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books

What Is Now Known Was Once Only Imagined: An (Auto)biography of Niki de Saint Phalle by Nicole Rudick  |  Saint Phalle wrote nothing for this book, and yet this book is written by her. Embracing that contradiction, Rudick enables the artist to speak for herself. —Bookforum

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reviews

BOMB  |  What Is Now Known … Niki de Saint Phalle: “The narrative that Rudick presents is frank and unsparing” —Bruce LaBruce

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✼ news:

“Hybrids of art and text that don’t respect boundaries but deal in the frisson created when collage cross-pollinates with fiction, poetry speaks through photographs, graphics accesses emotion the memoir can’t, and paintings remember what history forgets.” —Elissa Schappell writing about Siglio for Lithub.

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books

Rock of Eye by Troy Montes-Michie  |  Rooted in opacity and seek[ing] to evade a kind of visual capture—the need for Black men to be pinned down or stripped bare … it revels in contradiction, ambivalence, beauty, queerness, time, and place. —Alta Journal

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excerpts

ROCK OF EYEBrent Hayes Edwards talks with Troy Montes-Michie: “I’ve come to think of [El Paso] as my first experience with the language of collage … two very separate cultures colliding on every level”

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books

“It Is What It Is”: ALL THE CARDS ISSUED TO DONALD TRUMP… by Richard Kraft

“A real-time diary that’s a dazzling testament to its subject’s basic incomprehensibility.” —The Brooklyn Rail

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excerpts

“It Is What It Is”Introduction by author Richard Kraft: “I made a drawing of a yellow card and a red card … a talisman through which I sought to exercise a silent — and completely ineffective — retribution”

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✼ not stones, not stale bread:

“Not an object or a text but a name, a spirit: Jean Brown … The name ‘Jean Brown’ itself was, for me, the conduit of Howe’s “mystic, documentary telepathy.” When her name appeared on a citation, I sensed that this object or book had been carefully selected, cared for, considered, held.”

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features

Tupelo Quarterly (Forum) |  Danielle Dutton, Lucy Ives & Lisa Pearson participate Feminist Poetics of the Archive, curated and moderated by Karla Kelsey

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the improbable

No. 2 Time Is Elastic J. MAE BARIZO: “This mode of translation, one that is enacted in the colonizer’s language, is not enough; we need to think about the violation this blur of identity entails, how it can also ruin and obscure.”

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✼ natalie’s upstate weather report:

November 20, 2022 — Suddenly, winter. The inbox has 487 unread promotional emails. And our dear publisher has just sent another. 488, alas! This relationship between book, gift, commodity is a bit like a faulty, flickering lightbulb, or is the metaphor not quite right? Which is light? Which is dark? Which is electricity? Which is the leap of faith when one does not know how a light bulb actually works? Contemplating instead: desert, dessert. Where is my hat? My ears are cold!

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