Autumn Poem

by Travis Jeppesen on October 15, 2017

 

 

A MAGNET – star

explode bottle

crunch – IN THE

EAR – drummer’s

deafness, a trans-

cendence – YET THE

spark in testacular-

VERITAS – none

the blank file –

AGHAST all bird-

lessness – CAN THE

TIDE – yet we

november ourselves

SIDEWIRE –

blanches out in

the forest deep –

WILD the signs

that ride us, the

WIDOWLESS noc-

turnal – FERRY

corpse she is

the depthtile of

our autumn VILE

–––––––

sens with-

out FORLORN;

 

Fireflies #5

by Travis Jeppesen on October 11, 2017

My piece on Angela Schanelec’s film Afternoon appears in the new issue of Fireflies.

Berlin launch party is at Wolf Kino on October 21st; more info here.

OUTSIDE

by Travis Jeppesen on September 5, 2017

siilkysroom

Siilky’s Room — a collaboration with Winston Chmielinski, in the anthology OUTSIDE, now available here.

Coming this fall…. THE CRITIC AS ARTIST in Reading, UK

by Travis Jeppesen on August 30, 2017

003 (2)

‘The Critic as Artist’
curated by Michael Bracewell and Andrew Hunt

Reading Museum, Blagrave Street, Reading RG1 1QH, United Kingdom

Opening: Saturday 7 October 2017
Exhibition runs: 7 October 2017 to 28 January 2018

Including work by Miles Aldridge, Stephen Buckley, Marc Camille Chaimowicz, Lucienne Cole, Dexter Dalwood, Kaye Donachie, Donna Huddleston, Travis Jeppesen, Gareth Jones, Scott King, Linder, Bertie Marshall, Malcolm Mclaren, Katrina Palmer, Alessandro Raho, Simeon Soloman, and Cally Spooner.

‘The Critic as Artist’ is an exhibition at Reading Museum about and for the Irish writer and dramatist Oscar Wilde, who had been a visitor to Reading prior to his imprisonment at Reading Gaol, and whose ideas and legend remain startlingly contemporary.

Appropriately, the museum in Reading is housed in a building partially designed by Waterhouse which opened in 1883, the year Wilde set sail to ‘declare his genius’ to America. Rather than focus on Wilde’s sensational and tragic downfall, as is too often the case, ‘The Critic as Artist’ examines the author’s theories of aesthetics and art criticism, which advocated freedom from moral restraint and the limitations of society, as well as the creative ability of criticism to reach beyond the limitations of the work of art. These were and remain radical, integral to a developing idea of ‘the modern’ and above all joyously balanced between seriousness, ironic play, provocation, poetry and paradox.

With this in mind, the exhibition is titled after Wilde’s celebrated essay of 1891, in which he lays out the central points of his aesthetic and art critical theories. Wilde subtitled his essay, ‘With some remarks upon the importance of doing nothing’ – championing indolence as necessary to artistic cultivation, and pose, repose and contemplation as elevated modes of existence – very much in the lineage of what Kierkegaard had previously defined as the ‘glittering inactivity’ of the aesthetic state.

Combining the historical and the contemporary, notions of the cult of the beautiful with the role of the critic, symbolist fantasy and the many-layered relationships between life, morality and art, ‘The Critic as Artist’ aims to combine substantial homage and renewed interpretation of Wildean aesthetic theory, while remaining very much in the spirit of his own serious play – the ‘new Hellenism’ of artistic ideas.

For further information and images, please contact Kirsten Cooke, Reading International Assistant Curator on kirsten@readinginternational.org / +44 (0)118 378 8050

Head of a Woman, Pablo Picasso, 1926

by Travis Jeppesen on August 27, 2017

Pablo Picasso. Head of a Woman, 1926

See see it can be no me is free. Bound to one’s own plasticity, staring back to self eye like it’s the sea. No expanse can expand my myness in the sky my eye once holed. Glance shed gray across the day my stony being tries to be, the talk of the worldwide gallery!

Two hairs make one head, flourish side and front perspective gets so embed

dead when closed eye floats all stonelike into ill-defined hairplane. Bye bye.

A magnetic hold, that woman once wrote – and now she kisses herself unmasturbatorily: she is being portrayed. Ovarian sentimentality

Much like night getting a chance to breathe – purely sensual as an idea – yet sensual more like a hovering humidity, a mist not a meat.

Tonal detail turns flesh into mineral. Yet still the intimacy of a threat. Could say the second her giraffes its way into nasal fortitude – yet all stone is sculpture, whether made or found.

Time

by Travis Jeppesen on July 18, 2017

Where synthesis is bland, one can always hijack it. No one ever really knows what time it is – that’s because no one belongs to it. Time. It is a rope, something that leads us…to the sand. I see a lemon, or another fruit that yearns to be buried. But then maybe, just maybe, that piece of fruit that one considers is actually an ox – or something immaterial – a piece of lightning. What do you look at each day that disappears, along with/beside the light. It can’t be the eye of god – that is something that can be tasted. My eyeball beside a portrait of my eyeball that I myself have rendered.

 

If time were as blank as space and could be written on, and in a way, it can. Boredom is not-writing on time, but a breath, a way of appearing dissolute, ahead of the forecast – and obsolete at once. The blab of solidarity is backwards. A leaf falling on me, and the summer of not falling in love for once. You can be cracked open, but never written upon – not really. What gives us hope is the impossibility of ever living (completely) in dream. The denial, by powers we can hardly understand, let alone access, of ever seeing ourselves separate, from a distance – at the remove that necessitates true self-understanding.

 

Being at a remove today. That is what “woken up” means.

 

Birds, the sea, and silence. All natural things that experience the same dull ache from time to time. Writing the object is the same as reading it; no difference whatsoever. But then time becomes a metal object itself, a sort of divining rod that one could plug into and empty all their dreams out bladder-like. Am I saintly enough to be seeing you now. How much time do we have left really. That is what I really want to know.

 

(2014)

Post-production Manoeuvre @ Minority Space, Beijing

by Travis Jeppesen on June 6, 2017


Exhibition at Minority Space, Beijing


Post-production Manoeuvre


7th Jun-2nd Jul, 2017

Vernissage: 7th Jun, 19:00

This group exhibition will feature three works from 16 Sculptures, in Chinese translation, as well as a newly commissioned three-dimensional calligraphic work utilizing virtual reality technology.

For more info, please go here.

Tomorrow in Seoul

by Travis Jeppesen on May 11, 2017

mmca talk

RAT talk, Seoul: 18 March

by Travis Jeppesen on March 14, 2017

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Travis Jeppesen (*1979) is a writer and artist based in Berlin. His work can be viewed as an exploration of writing “in the expanded field,” as he works in several different modes, having authored novels, books of poetry, plays and film scripts. As a critic and essayist, he regularly contributes to such publications as Artforum, Art in America, and Frieze. His calligraphic writings have been the subject of solo exhibitions at Exile (Berlin) and Rupert (Vilnius.)
In addition to these more traditional forms, Jeppesen has developed what he terms “object-oriented writing”—writing that enacts a subjective, embodied encounter with and response to art objects. Jeppesen’s texts treat objects as inhabitable. By positioning his own voice within the object, he counters nearly all forms of critical analysis that assume a distance from objects in order to speak about them; as he observes, “Something that is located within an object can never be ‘about’ that object—aboutness is always external.” His first major object-oriented writing project, 16 Sculptures, was published in book format by Publication Studio, featured in the Whitney Biennial as an audio installation, and was the subject of a solo exhibition at Wilkinson Gallery in London.
His books include Victims, Poems I Wrote While Watching TV, Dicklung & Others, All Fall, and Wolf at the Door. Jeppesen’s most recent novel, The Suiciders, was published by Semiotext(e) in 2013; subsequently, he performed “marathon readings” of the entire novel, lasting eight hours without pause, at the ICA in London and the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York.
Travis Jeppesen has taught as a visiting lecturer at Goldsmiths, Leeds Beckett University, and the Royal College of Art, where he recently completed a PhD in Critical Writing in Art and Design. He is currently an International Research Fellow at MMCA Seoul-Changdong (National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Seoul.)

http://disorientations.com/

Lecturer: Travis Jeppesen
Date: March 18 2017 (Sat) 8 p.m.
Venue: RAT
Admission Fee: none
Address: 37 Donui-dong, Jongno-gu, 110-807 Seoul, 6F
Subway: Jongno 3-ga station, exit 4
Inquiries: 010-5239-4020 (Dirk)
*The event will be in English*

Wednesday night in London

by Travis Jeppesen on February 6, 2017

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