This contribution examines how contemporary exhibition practices engage with biological otherness through the interplay of material, technological mediation and curatorial practice. It explores how organisms and materials often considered marginal, such as viruses, microbial life, dust, and ash, can operate as co-authors in exhibition-making, unsettling hierarchies and binary frameworks that privilege human perception and control. Biological matter becomes a medium for thinking with and through nonhuman perspectives, revealing entangled temporalities, rhythms, and ecologies that exceed conventional scales of perception. Through three case studies: Living Ashes II, Studies of Interbeing—Trance 1:1, and The Materialised Temporality of Dust, the paper interrogates how decomposition, infection, and microscopic life are translated into relational, multisensory experiences. In Living Ashes II, protocells and ash are staged as agents of emergent vitality; in Studies of Interbeing—Trance 1:1, SARS-CoV-2 is re-materialised through textile and performative practices, fostering intimacy and affective encounter; and in The Materialised Temporality of Dust, immersive VR and spatial sound render microbial and dust temporalities perceptible within architectural space. Across these projects, digital technologies function not as neutral instruments but as active mediators, shaping the conditions under which nonhuman agency, vibrancy, and unpredictability are apprehended. Collectively, these works demonstrate that exhibitions can operate as relational laboratories in which biological otherness is co-produced, negotiated and experienced. They foreground an ethic of care and attunement, emphasising the multispecies, temporal, and technological entanglements that redefine what it means to exhibit living and non-living matter in the digital age.
As a key figure among Japanese American artists, Yasuo Kuniyoshi attracted scholarly attention for his melancholic paintings produced during and shortly after the Second World War. Many of his works from this period portrayed somber figures in masks painted in muted color palettes. Kuniyoshi also placed his figures in bleak circus or carnival settings, imbuing these traditionally festive settings with an air of sadness. As many scholars argued, Yasuo’s solemn postwar paintings reflected the artist’s disillusionment with American society after he was labeled an “enemy alien” as a Japanese artist living in the U.S. during the Pacific War. While his postwar paintings have been extensively studied, his lithographic works remained overlooked due to their scarcity. This paper examines Kuniyoshi’s two postwar lithographs, Carnival and Mask, which follow the same carnival motifs as his late-life works, but represent a departure from his earlier artistic principles. Through the close analysis of the artist’s two lithographs and comparison to contemporary paintings, this paper argues that Kuniyoshi’s lithographs function as reflexive records of his paintings, serving as platforms for him to experiment with new artistic techniques and themes. Furthermore, examining the lithographs in the context of the artist’s full oeuvre, this paper will highlight how Kuniyoshi blurred the boundaries between artistic mediums, mirroring his broader efforts to navigate the challenges of postwar identity and artistic expression.
This essay examines the visual culture of what might be termed "the ecology of silver" between 1492 and 1710 in relation to colonialism on both sides of the Atlantic, with particular attention to both its shiny allure and the blind spots that that shininess produces. It focuses on three inter-related areas: depictions of Potos & iacute;, the great silver mountain in viceregal Peru; silver's shine in European elite material culture; and the deployment of silver in celebrating the Spanish monarchy in viceregal Sicily, part of its empire within Europe. Current scholarship on early modern silver bifurcates between historical, political, and anthropological studies of silver's extraction in the Americas and colonialism on one hand and a celebratory art historical scholarship focused on high-end European silver goods on the other. Scholars have energetically examined its extraction, the global trade in bullion, the rise of capitalism that it fed, and the wars that it fomented and paid for, but they stop short of inquiring into the ends to which silver was deployed within Europe and Asia beyond the naming of the principal ports. Meanwhile, studies of silver in Europe are overwhelmingly tightly drawn and connoisseurial, often with no reference to where the silver came from, let alone the circumstances of its extraction, transport, or even its effects. This split is due partly to a prevalent notion that silver's value is inherent, objective, and caused by "rarity"; and it is partly due to art history's unswerving identification with the rich and powerful. Such approaches overlook silver's remarkable material and alchemical qualities and ignore its capacity to turn grubby profit into charismatic sparkle, which simultaneously drove the ecological and environmental damage and exonerated its profiteers. Early modern silver linked environmental destruction, colonialism, genocide, and coloniality to high culture, making it a particularly relevant topic for art historical analysis in this context. But more than that silver entwined them in complex, convulsive, and transformative ways, turning imperialism, violence and exploitation into beauty, shimmer and cultural sophistication. Hence, this essay insists on the centrality of imperial issues in the Old World as in the New, underscoring colonial dynamics within metropolitan culture while critically examining the work of seduction of art. The paradoxical quality of shine is the lens through which is seen the relation between violent coloniality and the allure and ecology of early modern silver.
Gayatri Spivak suggests that we turn our attention to the planet rather than to the globe. While she recognizes the planet in the species of alterity, she considers the globe to be an abstract quantity linked with the desire for control through digital quantification methods. This article discusses Claudia Bosse’s choreographic approach of re-imagining the human being as a planetary subject by investigating her dance performance WASTEland (2025), which took place on a piece of fallow land near Vienna Central Station. The choreographer turned this wasteland into her artistic laboratory and workplace for seven months. Using a mixed-method approach—combining performance analysis and discourse analysis—and drawing from planetary thinking and new materialism, I analyze Bosse’s artistic research, which raises the question of the relationship of precarious landscapes and the precarity of the bodies that perform (on) them, exposed to their climatic and ecological conditions as well as to their uncontrollable inhabitants, both human and other-than-human. How can wasteland and building sites be artistically activated? Does working and dancing on/with wasteland signify a withdrawal from urgent political issues or does this physical exposure enable a shift of perspective in regard to political miseries?
This article offers a theoretically nuanced and empirically grounded investigation into the paradoxical afterlife of classical versification within the poetic practices of the Russian and Soviet avant-garde. Challenging the persistent historiographic narrative that equates avant-garde poetics with an unequivocal rupture from tradition, the study demonstrates that canonical metrical forms-most notably iambic tetrameter-continued to operate as structurally productive, albeit critically reconfigured, elements within experimental verse. Drawing on a broad corpus encompassing poetic manifestos, verse texts, and prose writings by Vladimir Maiakovskii, Ilia Sel'vinskii, Semen Kirsanov, and Nikolai Aseev, the authors combine close formal analysis with quantitative prosodic modeling, including linguistic and speech models derived from Kolmogorov-Taranovsky verse theory. The article argues that avant-garde poets did not simply negate inherited metrics but subjected them to a process of internal recomposition, shifting attention from meter as a fixed scheme to rhythm as a dynamic, semantically charged construct. While rhythmic innovation is shown to be consciously engineered in verse, the analysis of verse-like fragments in prose reveals persistent, unconscious attachments to "classical" rhythmic patterns, particularly the Pushkinian alternating rhythm. This tension between declarative rejection and latent continuity illuminates the avant-garde's distinctive mode of negotiating tradition: not abolishing it, but instrumentalizing it within a broader project of total artistic reorganization. The study thus reframes avant-garde prosody as a site where innovation and inheritance coexist in a state of productive contradiction, reshaping our understanding of modernist poetic technique.
