Lee Kit

by Travis Jeppesen on December 3, 2014

“Conditionally You,” an essay on Lee Kit, in the December issue of Art in America. Can also be read online here.

That Summer That

by Travis Jeppesen on December 1, 2014

Nobody even cares about them except for those who care about them: the day that something was supposed to happen, something astral, we’re not sure what. Maybe bumping into someone you barely know and mistaking it for an old friend, yes, these streets do have historico-hystericospectral elements lodged in their stones, and the desire to control one’s self is always specious, I’m sorry to have to announce in this lonely context, where no one is really listening although everyone is alert and ready for the next holiday declaration.

Everything matters, the writing. In the shade, I smell your anguish but would never chase after – I am too superior, there is much to be lost. Me and a dream of the common man… The vampire that plagues the refuge. You seep things up, play the victim quite well, I could really care less, it is your fault you are breaking. Grams of hope dissolve in the water… I am on my way home.

Jaanus Samma

by Travis Jeppesen on November 18, 2014

A review of Jaanus Samma’s solo show in Tallinn is now online at Artforum.

Doclisboa 2014

by Travis Jeppesen on November 17, 2014

“…the screen is a means of transporting one elsewhere: This is the wonder of the cinematic vehicle. It takes you places and it doesn’t expect anything in return. In its comprehension that these “elsewheres” form the overall picture that every being with a conscience should not only be cognizant of but also take responsibility for, Doclisboa ’14 cuttingly enunciated itself as a miniutopia—or the closest thing we may get to one in a world as troubled as ours.”

A review of Doclisboa at Artforum.

Short Story

by Travis Jeppesen on November 15, 2014

Natural Moan Molly was full of the problems she never had. Yeah, life was a gift. The preciousness of cement is what tore her apart. Making love to a cup of coffee, the apes soon fell away. That left a lot of people to form the rest. But at least they could be explained. Looking different than a lot of society, their eyes went into the cake. Each time a black bog fell on their heads, hipster highway had a wider anus to waste. Sometimes the globe did it also. Milli Vanilli was glad to be a band. Two brothers who were also models, one of them was rumored to be a homosexual. When was the last time you had grilled lamb? That president won’t win the medal of honor. His time is one of certainty, I hate it. The smart ones are all those who love the lawn mower, but refuse to eat it.

Atalay Yavuz

by Travis Jeppesen on November 12, 2014

My review of Atalay Yavuz’s exhibition in Istanbul is now online at Whitehot Magazine of Contemporary Art.

I, an Object

by Travis Jeppesen on November 10, 2014

My film I, an Object, commissioned by Panel for the exhibition “House Style” in Glasgow in 2013, is now on Vimeo.

ALL FALL: Now Available

by Travis Jeppesen on November 5, 2014


All Fall contains two novellas by Travis Jeppesen and is the sixth book in Publication Studio’s Fellow Travelers Series. “Written in the Sky” is a plane crashing in slow motion. It was written on a red-eye flight from Beijing to Vienna in the fall of 2012. “White Night” is a thoughtscape of Gilles Deleuze in the moments before he suicided by defenestration on November 4th, 1995. All Fall launches on November 4th, the anniversary of Deleuze’s death.


Order your copy of All Fall from Publication Studio.

Poem for My Birthday

by Travis Jeppesen on September 5, 2014

It would be great if

someone told me they

loved me today, though I

won’t expect it and

neither should you,

blue sea over there

shimmering under an

ungodly glare. Window on

to the horizon like a

painting I am making

in my mind, please let me

exist for you so that I

may go away soon. That

man with the funny hat there.

I sit beneath this beach um-

brella in Spain and turn

35-years-old while my

friends doze on lounge chairs

close to mine. The sound of

the waves reminds me of

the womb. I am in Florida

again and there is no ocean

between us. 35-years-old

and no children – no you,

either. Hey: still alive.

All the Great Bunny Rabbit Deservers

by Travis Jeppesen on August 20, 2014

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