Map of Leopold Bloom’s and Stephen Dedalus’s travels through Dublin, ca. 1948–58. by V. Nabokov
Here is a glimpse into the current back-end of our process. Tracing the exact trajectory of an idea as it enters our field is occasionally possible, but rarely linear. It may grow slowly in its own fashion, lie fallow for a time, or turn out to be a dead end. But sometimes (!!) it becomes a silent riot inside our escapades—one that finds its external form at unexpected speed. Almost always, external forms are born from commissions, a way of getting to know a thing, with others, who also seek evolution, expansion and rearticulation(s) of their ideas.
Two new ways to draw a circle, 1971. by T. Schmidt from Tomas Schmit Archiv, Berlin. We tend to work simultaneously across motley of topics that go in and out of hiatus. Having a crush on a hypothesis is a desirable beginning but by no means obligatory. There is a soft underbelly to the work too, feeling of and with the web of absence - things forgotten, erased or not yet manifest that carry the electric charge of possibility.
To dialogue with the absences we “stage” various associations, from the harmonious to the discordant (could museums “talk” with night clubs or football clubs? Could city officials talk with science fiction authors?) which is akin to assembling a puzzle piece by piece, knowing that all of them are a function or a larger mosaic that contains in itself an alchemical magic of becoming more than sum of its parts. External forms: