Werkplaats Typografie at
Hoffmitz Milken Center
for Typography, ArtCenter
College of Design
950 South Raymond
With the generous invitation from the Hoffmitz Milken Center for Typography at ArtCenter College of Design, the Werkplaats Typografie ArtEZ University of the Arts has been resituated to Los Angeles, California for a 6 week residency. We, the participants from the Werkplaats Typografie display the outcome of our time here in LA. We invite you with still puzzled excitement to our collection of extracted butch signifiers, walk-in sculptures, additional footnotes, pre-fab bungalows, condensed sunshine, phonebooks, doppelgängers, sculptural glyphs, broadcasting, a trip of failures, a bass performance and one particularly satisfying tarot reading.
Glyph, 2017, acrylic on concrete, 47 × 5 × 8 in. Glyph, 2017, steel, acrylic on MDF, 106 × 32 × 13 1/4 in. Glyph, 2017, acrylic on MDF, 348 × 29 1/2 × 14 in. Glyph, 2017, acrylic on steel, 68 × 36 × 1 3/4 in. Glyph, 2017, acrylic on steel, 75 1/2 × 20 × 1/5 in. Footnote. ‘Star Blurbs’ by Francis Gumm from Larry Johnson, Commie Pinko Guy, published by Raven Row and Koeing Books in 2015. A visual artist, using language, violates a culinary taboo. In certain parts of Italy, fish and cheese are never served together. You don’t put parmesan on tuna. At peril of your life you put Pecorino Romano on shrimp. Ditto with artists. If you, as an artist, use a sentence in a photograph, you must make good on the deathly implications of that sentence as freighted and horror-struck terrain. You must let yourself be haunted-unto-ruin by the sentence as sentence. For that reason, we don’t usually allow our first-year art students to use language. We made an exception for Larry Johnson, because his application essay was so bottomlessly dazzling, so impossible to paraphrase, so neo-mimetic, that we waived our no-language rule. Larry’s language loosened our territorial hold over that tiny plot of suffering we considered authority. Unfixed from authorship, we could enjoy a cocktail at noon at the Mother Lode. If the Mother Lode were closed, or out of business, we’d find another lounge. Any bar would be suffice. Even an invisible dive. We tried to keep secret our defection from daylight, but word got out. Listen: what got out was word, not image. Anything magnificent and monstrous — anything with the capacity to destroy a reputation — has no home, no resting or rotting-place, but in language’s body. If we could exist in a different box, we’d choose a non-linguistic container. But our fate is visualizable words, tickled by meaning. A child first learns sexual stimulation by tickling. You make a friend at school; you bring the friend home to play. The friend tickles your stomach. That tickled sensation (scientists call it gargalesis) is a punishment, but you also love this awful tremor, which reminds you of language’s tickle, its threshold buzz — language sometimes not behaving as language, words sometimes nosediving into death wish and babble.
Doppelgänger, 2017, two channel HD video, 5 minutes, 27 seconds. Footnote. An excerpt from Mister Lonely by Harmony Korine released in 2007. I don’t know if you know. What it is like to want to be someone else. To not want to look like you look. To hate your own face and to go completely unnoticed. I have always wanted to be someone else. I have never felt comfortable the way I am. All I want is to be better than myself, to become less ordinary and to find some purpose in this world. It is easier to see things in others, to see things you admire and then try and become that. To own a different face. To dance a different dance and ... sing a different song. It is out there waiting for us, inviting us to change. It is time to become who we’re not, to change our face and become who we want to be. I think the world is a better place that way. Bam, bam. Bam.
Dorothee DählerD & Malin GewinnerJ
Piñatakothek, 2017, digital video, 16 minutes. Footnote. An excerpt from the introduction to ‘Before The Flowers of Friendship Faded Friendship Faded’ from Gertrude Stein: Writings and Lectures 1909 to 1945, edited by Patricia Meyerowitz published Penguin Books in 1971. “George Hugnet wrote a poem called Enfance. Gertrude Stein offered to translate it for him but instead she wrote a poem about it. This first pleased George Hugnet too much and then did not please him at all. Gertrude Stein then called the poem Before the Flowers of Friendship Faded Friendship Faded. Everybody mixed themselves up in all of this. The group broke up. Gertrude Stein was very upset and then consoled herself by telling all about it in a delightful short story called. “From Left To Right” which was printed in London Harper's Bazaar. “I had a funny experience once, this was a long time after I have been writing anything and everything and everything as you all more or less have come to know it, it was about five years ago and I said I would translate the poems of a young french poet. I did this not because of the poetry but because of the poet he had been very nice to me and I was grateful for it and so I wanted to make him happy and the way to show it was to translate the poetry of the young french poet. So I began to translate and before I knew it a very strange thing had happened. Hitherto I had always been writing with a concentration of recognition of the thing that was to be existing as my writing as it was being written. And now, the recognition was prepared beforehand there it was it was already recognition a thing I could recognize because it had been recognized before I began my writing, and a very queer thing was happening. The words as they come out had a different relation than any words I had hitherto been writing, as they came out they had a certain smoothness they went one into the other in a different kind of a fashion than any other words ever had done before any words that I had ever written and I was perplexed at what was happening and I finished the whole thing not translating but carrying out an idea which was already existing and then suddenly I realized something I realized that words come out differently if there is no recognition as the words are forming because recognition had already taken place.”
Line–Gry HørupH & Sabo DayP
No Upper Story, 2017, webpage, 3d rendering, luca.werkplaatstypografie.org/no-upper-story. Footnote. An excerpt from Species Of Spaces And Other Pieces by Georges Perec published by Penguin Classics in 2008. SPACE. OPEN SPACE. ENCLOSED SPACE. OUTER SPACE. SPACE SUIT. SPACE AGE. LIVING SPACE. PROJECTIVE SPACE. SPACE CAPSULE. LACK OF SPACE. SPACE BAND. SPACE HEATER. DEEP SPACE. SPACE ODYSSEY. SPACE SALESMAN. EUCLIDEAN SPACE. SPACE CADET. SPACE STATION. BLANK SPACE. SPACE OUT. PARKING SPACE. SPACE INVADERS. SPACE WALK. SPACE TIME CONTINUUM. SPACE BAR. LOST IN SPACE. STARING INTO SPACE. WATCH THIS SPACE. SPACE CURVE. SPACE LATTlCE. SPACE OPERA.
CATCHER SPACE. SPACE SICKNESS. BUNCHER SPACE. THREE-DIMENSIONAL SPACE. HAIR SPACE. SPACE RACE. NULL SPACE. LEAVE A SPACE. SPACE OF A MOMENT. INTERCOSTAL SPACE. AVAILABLE SPACE. SPACE NEEDLE. POSITION IN SPACE. EDGES OF SPACE. SPACE WRITER. WIDE OPEN SPACES. LACK OF SPACE. SPACE SAVING. ENCLOSED SPACE.
SPACE FILLER. WASTED SPACE.
Answers on the Ceiling, 2017, audio guide, narrated by Austin Francis Redman. Footnote. Footnotes from The Library of Babel by Jorge Luis Borges published by David R. Godine, Publisher in 2000. 1. The original manuscript does not contain digits or capital letters. The punctuation has been limited to the comma and the period. These two signs, the space and the twenty-two letters of the alphabet are the twenty-five symbols considered sufficient by this unknown author. (Editor’s note.) 2. Before, there was a man for every three hexagons. Suicide and pulmonary diseases have destroyed that proportion. A memory of unspeakable melancholy: at times I have traveled for many nights through corridors and along polished stairways without finding a single librarian. 3. I repeat: it suffices that a book be possible for it to exist. Only the impossible is excluded. For example: no book can be a ladder, although no doubt there are books which discuss and negate and demonstrate this possibility and others whose structure corresponds to that of a ladder. 4. Letizia Álvarez de Toledo has observed that this vast Library is useless: rigorously speaking, a single volume would be sufficient, a volume of ordinary format, printed in nine or ten point type, containing an infinite number of infinitely thin leaves. In the early seventeenth century, Cavalieri said that all solid bodies are the superimposition of an infinite number of planes. The handling of this silky vade mecum would not be convenient: each apparent page would unfold into other analogous ones; the inconceivable middle page would have no reverse.
The Story, 2017, projection, ink on paper, 10 parts, dimensions variable. Footnote. ‘Losing Memory’ by Lydia Davis from The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis published by Picador in 2010. You ask me about Edith Wharton. Well, the name is very familiar.
Phantom Radio in Los Angeles, 2017, publication: Risograph on paper, 11 × 17 in., 28 pages. reference material: dimensions variable. Footnote. An excerpt from ‘Mexican Radio Goes To The North Pole’ by Rubén Gallo from Cabinet Magazine, Issue 22: Insecurity Summer (Summer 2006). When wireless broadcasting began in the 1920s, artists and writers around the world were gripped by what some historians have called “the madness of radio.” A frenzy for the new technology seized enthusiasts from Paris to Mexico City and led to some outrageous tales: a Chicago doctor believed newborns could be educated by being wired to receivers, and a Mexican poet proposed designing miniature earphones for parrots in order to spare their owners the trouble of teaching them to talk. But of all the mad wireless projects from the 1920s, one stands out for its fantastic twists and turns: the story of El Buen Tono, Mexico’s largest tobacco company, which in 1923 opened its own broadcasting station and launched a series of campaigns that would be more at home in a Futurist story by Velimir Khlebnikov than in the headquarters of a cigar manufacturer.
Charlotte TailletC & Joel ColoverG
Butch ‘er Curtains, 2017, plastic sheets, adhesive vinyl, a short lecture, 83 × 94 in. Footnote. An excerpt from ‘Debutante’ by Leonora Carrington from Wayward Girls and Wicked Women: An Anthology of Subversive Stories by Angela Carter published by Penguin Books in 1989. Night had fallen. Exhausted by the emotions of the day, I took a book and sat down by the open window. I remember that I was reading Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift. It was perhaps an hour later that the first sign of misfortune announced itself. A bat entered through the window, emitting little cries. I am terribly afraid of bats, I hid behind a chair, my teeth chattering. Scarcely was I on my knees when the beating of the wings was drowned out by a great commotion at my door. My mother entered, pale with rage. “We were coming to seat ourselves at the table,” she said, “when the thing who was in your place rose and cried: ‘I smell a little strong, eh? Well, as for me, I do not eat cake.’ With these words she removed her face and ate it. A great leap and she disappeared out the window.”
Touch Yourself, 2017, ink on paper, 15 parts, lamination, clay, 8.5 × 11 in. Footnote. An excerpt from Where The Bird Sings Best by Alejandro Jodorowsky published by Restless Books in 2016. Prologue. While all the characters, places, and events in this book are real, the chronological order has been altered. This reality was further transformed and magnified until it achieved the status of myth. Our family tree is the trap that limits our thoughts, emotions, desires and material life, but it is also the treasure that captures the greater part of our values. Aside from being a novel, this book may, if it is successful, serve as an example that all readers can follow and, if they practice forgiveness, they too can transform family memory into heroic legend.
Enclosed Bandpass, 2017, installation: mixed media, sound, 32 × height variable × 42 in. Christopher Baliwas, Enclosed Bandpass, 2017, performance, 5 minutes. Footnote. An excerpt from Education by Immanuel Kant published by The University of Michigan Press in 1960. 6. Man needs nurture and culture. Culture includes discipline and instruction. These, as far as we know, no animal needs, for none of them learn anything from their elders, except birds, who are taught by them to sing; and it is a touching sight to watch the mother bird singing with all her might to her young ones, who, like children at school, stand round and try to produce the same tones out of their tiny throats. In order to convince ourselves that birds do not sing by instinct, but that they are actually taught to sing, it is worthwhile to make an experiment. Suppose we take away half the eggs from a canary, and put sparrow’s eggs in their place, or exchange young sparrows for young canaries; if the young birds are then brought into a room where they cannot hear the sparrows outside, they will learn the canary’s song, and we thus get singing sparrows. It is, indeed, very wonderful that each species of bird has its own peculiar song, which is preserved unchanged through all its generations; and the tradition of the song is probably the most faithful in the world.
Jin Kwang KimF & Maria MitchevaK
Poster like a Poster, 2017, found poster, 17 × 45 in. Poster like a Poster (Masquerade), 2017, cyanotype, silkscreen on paper, 20.5 × 28 in. Footnote. An excerpt from ‘Only A Paper Moon Inside’ by Annee Grøtte Viken published in MacGuffin No 2: The Window (Winter 2015/2016). A Screenplay in two acts, inspired by descriptions of a window in the novel Franny and Zooey by J.D Salinger. ‘The Window’ acquires a voice, engaging in conversation with the narrator and the protagonist from the novel, who gain a singular identity called ‘The Gaffer’. THE WINDOW (open). Unsentimental mementos. Tiny grains. Millions and millions of tiny grains. Heated, moulded, pressed and cooled. I filter rays, but I cannot shield either you or me from the marks of time. Your idea ... is it something that can become something like hmm, more final?. ZOOEY — THE GAFFER (closed). Nothing’s final — nothing is ever final with these guys — but I think I’ve got him half snowed into the idea of making a picture out of that Lenormand novel. THE WINDOW (reflective). I like that. I wish I could make pictures. I wish I could make pictures of all the magical things I can do. Like how I can gracefully paint floating squares on the wall with fragile blue moonlight, or how I can tenderly direct raindrops into long winding pathways, creating beautiful maps of tears. I am hopeless romantic. I can see my reflection in the TV. The cyclopean eye is staring into the room like the scrutinizing eye of a suspicious parent, but it’s ok, I am transparent to the cyclopean stranger. I am my own eye. Open the curtains and discover the play of the world. I am a passage. Light reaches through and sound reverberates. Air whispers past, like the soft formation of clouds. I embrace change while holding onto my frame. Through all the layers of old paint and various marks I have received over time, I will always be the same underneath.
Adriaan van LeuvenA
Suggestions, 2017, Suggestions
Voices of Now, 2017, wood, drywall, acrylic, 160 × 83 × 63 in. Footnote. An excerpt from Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin Abbott Abbott published by Dover Thrift Editions in 1992. To The Inhabitants of SPACE IN GENERAL. And H. C. IN PARTICULAR. This Work is Dedicated. By a Humble Native of Flatland. In the Hope that. Even as he was Initiated into the Mysteries. Of THREE Dimensions. Having been previously conversant. With ONLY TWO. So the Citizens of that Celestial Region. May aspire yet higher and higher. To the Secrets of FOUR FIVE OR EVEN SIX Dimensions. Thereby contributing. To the Enlargement of THE IMAGINATION. And the possible Development. Of that most rare and excellent Gift of MODESTY. Among the Superior Races. Of SOLID HUMANITY.
Werkplaats Typografie at Hoffmitz Milken Center for Typography, ArtCenter College of Design. February 21 to February 26, 2017. Including Werkplaats Typografie participants from years 17 and 18. The exhibition identity is designed by Line-Gry Hørup and Yeliz Secerli. The audio guide is narrated by Austin Francis Redman. The epilogue is an excerpt from Vampyr by Carl Theodor Dreyer released in 1932. Werkplaats Typografie wishes to deeply thank: Gloria Kondrup, Simon Johnston, Austin Francis Redman, Susan Malmstrom and Nohemy Ramosat at HMCT. Tony Zepeda from the print studio; Brian Porray and Jake Fowler from the wood shop; David Mocarski, Dan Gottlieb and Penny Herscovitch from the Environmental Design Department; Ross McLain from the Graduate Fine Art Department and Kyle Maynard from the A/V department. Werkplaats Typografie participants from years 17 and 18 wishes to thank: Anniek Brattinga, Armand Mevis, Ilke Gers, Joris Maltha, Liesbeth Doornbosch Mads Wildgaard, and Stephen Serrato. The Werkplaats Typografie is a two-year graduate programme in graphic design based in Arnhem, the Netherlands. The program is centered on self-initiated projects and practical assignments with lectures, workshops, seminars, meetings and readings geared towards self-accountable and independently motivated work and research.
No answer. Hullo!
Far away a voice can
be heard answering:
They shout: We’re completely lost!
After a short pause: Where are we?