HEJ NO.1 LAUNCH AT PS1 THIS SUNDAY NOV. 11
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
An afternoon celebrating the launch of HEJ: a print-curatorial project
Sunday, November 11, 2012, 4:00 – 5:00 PM
Artbook @ MoMA/PS1 Magazine Store, 22-25 Jackson Avenue, Long Island City, NY 11101
HEJ: a print-curatorial project is proud to release its first issue, a publication featuring interdisciplinary work by
an international group of 25 artists, writers, and curators. Rigorously curated yet accessible in form and content, HEJ is a tangible space for creative and critical production—in a variety of genres—to overlap, interact, and create meaningful discourse. HEJ balances theoretical and aesthetic concerns, while considering, in print format, the rapid changes in artistic dialogue within the context of the Internet.
In celebration of its first issue, contributors to and friends of HEJ will present their works, continuing
conversations started within the issue.
Please join us on Sunday, November 11 at 4:00 PM for readings by Jameson Fitzpatrick and Sabrina Reich-Kabos and a discussion between artist Faith Holland and Alex Tatusian, BF Bifocals founder and designer of HEJ no. 1, on working across media in the digital age.
Contributors to HEJ no. 1 are
Hyunjee Nicole Kim
Javier R. Casado
HEJ no. 1 is curated by Charlie Tatum and Dana Kopel.
Copies will be available for purchase at the event.
Heres to you Miss America II
Something shot through my head and maybe I even lost a tooth or two, in the back of mind I see someone carrying boxes in a dark blue t-shirt and I am thinking that it’s strange to be moving boxes in a t-shirt in the middle of winter and the prognosis is really not good and the forecast is even worse.I want to go ballroom dancing and I need to get drunk; una lacrima sul viso, I hope you see why I can’t come. It’s 4:47. This is how it goes and here’s to you Miss America.*
H. B..o & Voltage-turned-McDonalds-insipid
[…] was a disappointment, awkward, forced […] absentminded mode, drunk’n’filthy […] not in the good way, voltage intensity turned McDonalds-insipid […] a snake […] didn’t believe them […] would be irrelevant-shameless if it wasn’t for the old Palestinian with his eternal newspaper so neatly rolled […] such a stately handsome man & I was always secretly proud of knowing him […] the last time I saw him he was sitting on a bench wearing slippers looking old-small, there was nothing left […] imposing presence that used to stun me & keep me in check, I saw him through a bus window and I didn’t get a good enough look to see whether it was Denmark or himself that had happened to him, but I think it was himself he was always a tom-cat-player, he was […] recognized […] existence until […] went to where […] originally came from […] found […] validate […] presence, & I feel […] guilty, but I am from Denmark, what a staggering-dull Danish ending, would […] forgive […] and show […] park?
The Copenhagen Letters I
Two lovers through the park, I have put self-adhesive plastic film on my windows, I promise to never mess it up again, council housing with a thousand windows, architecture never solved anything, mercy, mercy for me, swimming pool and rainy Copenhagen, never trust a grandparent, sad eagles, a pink plastic watch, two small boys in a forest road carrying guns, I do not know if it is toy guns, the girls is extremely skinny wearing low-cut jeans, stretching her arms above her head, probably to accentuate her ribs, I would climb her stall-bar any day, if only I had the energy, I see an apple green open balcony door and behind it a Cienga landscape, but lately I have started to doubt if maybe an ocean view wouldn’t be better, but then again ocean-view is a thrill, a fling, the desert is permanent, however I do love the sea, numb and a diet-coke glass bottle from Italy, I think we bought it in Pisa. The Empire State Building still stands and it is not America that is fucked, it’s Europe only we do not realize. It’s calfskin leather, made in Mexico and the leather is artificially marbled, you said something and I cannot recall it today, I am wearing 4 shirts but I am not black-eyed, you can trust me, I’d go the whole wide world just to find her, whole wide world but definitely not Tahiti, red meat, I really should be going, and I really should stop smoking, a photograph yes I have that, more than she will ever know, it was a dog not a lion, sometimes dogs can look like lions, especially those who have my identical eye-color, it’s not hazel, close to his heart, cars and girls, uhh, hush, all the brackets annoyed you so I removed them, just look at us now – we’re driving, deeply concerned Pickwick tea – yuk! A new God, a director’s choice, I want to run, I will win this race, there hasn’t been any bleeding tattoos here for a while, though I will still get that one on the wrist, a life-line back.