"Something should’ve changed in the planning room that day when our producers and artists decided to make a Sailor Moon anime only about an accurate representation of the manga series. They should have also fixed the show’s misogynistic and racist rhetoric. The Sailor Moon produced now doesn’t stand a chance against us girls who want more for ourselves than to be a ‘pretty princess’"

Do you agree?

Read the article HERE

Your magazine/website seems to be fairly new, so I hope this criticism is useful to you in the future.

"I had the utmost belief that [Sailor Moon Crystal] could regain its strength and find a way out of the stereotypical sexist Japanese drawing aesthetic. I was wrong."

Firstly - not sure what “the Japanese drawing aesthetic” is - your wording is pretty vague. There is no “Japanese drawing aesthetic” just like there’s no “American drawing aesthetic”. If you mean anime, then say anime; but even that would be too vague. There are many different popular archetypes for anime art, and your readers have no way of knowing which “stereotype” you mean.
If you mean to imply that Crystal's art style is stereotypical and sexist within its own context (i.e. “modern magical girl anime”), I have to disagree. It is a Western perspective to look at Sailor Moon Crystal and say “Look, a sexist ideal”. Currently speaking, the “sexist stereotype” of contemporary magical girl anime would be the opposite - infantilisation. Magical girl series that are currently created to cater to male audiences tend to make the characters rounder, softer, and more childish-looking. Crystal's angular, mature style is at odds with the popular styles of modern magical girl anime. People have valid concerns about the designs of Crystal, but they were not created to pander to a male magical girl audience.

"A part from being leggier than they were before, they also became alarmingly stick-thin with high-pitched, girly voices."

They have always had high-pitched, “girly” voices. I’m not too sure what your criteria for a “girly” voice is, but these characters are all 14, so I think their voices suit them fine. Sailor Moon, in fact, has the same voice actress as the original, so nothing there has changed.

"The Sailor Moon produced now doesn’t stand a chance against us girls who want more for ourselves than to be a “pretty princess” … In hindsight, the old anime did have minor glimpses of the soldiers offering us a feminist perspective to crush Usagi’s patriarchal dreams."

"Yet, the show still screams stereotypical femininity and a false notion to move forward in perceiving young women’s identity."

"“The princess in my dream was so beautiful. I wish I was a princess too,” says our soon-to-be Sailor Moon. We catch her gazing out the window wishing to quit school to become a full-time pretty princess. We are caught in her gaze as she pictures herself in a white dress, stars gleaming all around her. We are already introduced to a young woman who feels completely useless about herself, failing classes and wishing to ultimately start anew."

"[In order to make Crystal a better show] … let’s not make Usagi’s ultimate dream to get married and have kids"

All of this is just saying “it is wrong for a woman to want to pursue behaviour that has been coded as feminine, and representation of this in media is wrong and upholding the patriarchy”. That’s a ridiculously narrow viewpoint. Your analysis of Usagi’s internal monologue is particularly absurd and reads as very shallow. All that Usagi said is that she wanted to be a princess. She never felt “useless” about herself - that is, in fact, one of Usagi’s strong points, that even when she fails, she bounces back. To say that someone who dreams about how cool being a princess would be must want to “start anew” is very shallow.

"But [Sailor Moon] show begs for interpretation since it’s been in the cultural consciousness of American and anime-loving girls everywhere."

"Give our soldiers and all the individuals in SM different body types and different ethnicities (not just the villians, damnint!)"

You are very clearly judging Sailor Moon Crystal from a western perspective. You have to take a step back (maybe a very long step) and make an effort to understand the context that formed the original Sailor Moon and forms Crystal today, and how it differs to your own background. As it is, it’s very clear that you haven’t challenged any of your preconceptions or your own cultural/social assumptions before applying them to Sailor Moon.

"[To make Crystal better] Give Usagi some agency and confidence besides her magical powers, for once … And stop making her seem like a girlchild”

In a similar vein to “any feminine interests are bad”, this section also sounds like “any negative character traits (excepting Approved Strong Female Character™ Traits) are bad”. Usagi’s weak points not only make her more human, but she works on improving them over the course of the series. Having a character grow and mature out of childish traits offers a stronger message than just having a character who is perfect from the start.
I’m not even sure what you mean by “agency” or “confidence” here since, as I understand them, Usagi has both of those in droves. She is motivated and confident and acts on her own accord. This feels like a rather generic and misplaced criticism that I’ve heard applied to almost all female characters at some point. It’s a claim that lacks substance or evidence.

"Bring back our LGBT characters … And our trans characters … Stop the male superiority and the unrealistic gushing over Tuxedo Mask … And the constant need for a man to save her … And give Tuxedo Mask a personality instead of just making him a beefcake."

At this point, I have to ask after the last time you actually watched Sailor Moon? The idea that it encourages “male superiority” in any way is baffling to me. The “constant need for a man to save her” claim is one many Sailor Moon fans have heard before - usually from someone who hasn’t actually watched much of the show. Sailor Moon quickly stops depending on Tuxedo Mask, and his involvement in fights actually tends to become something of a joke. The Sailor Soldiers are the ones who do all the heavy lifting, so to speak. Again - “stop gushing over Tuxedo Mask” fits in a way under “anything feminine is bad”. Usagi (and some others) are actually quite proactive, rather than passive, when it comes to dating. Basically, these criticisms ring hollow and most Sailor Moon fans reading your article would wonder how they actually apply to the series.
I should also point out that Sailor Moon Crystal has only had 2 episodes so far. You can’t say “bring back our LGBT characters” when we don’t even know how long the series is going to be yet; where exactly were they supposed to appear?

There were other issues, but those are the major points. All in all, this article felt extremely generic and poorly researched. These are criticisms we’ve heard applied to almost every show with lead female characters before, and most don’t even really seem relevant to Sailor Moon. Ignoring any redeeming qualities from a show and failing to reflect on your own bias/background does not make a strong article.

You Are Triggering me! The Neo-Liberal Rhetoric of Harm, Danger and Trauma

by Jack Halberstam

(original post here)

I was watching Monty Python’s The Life of Brian from 1979 recently, a hilarious rewriting of the life and death of Christ, and I realized how outrageous most of the jokes from the film would seem today. In fact, the film, with its religious satire and scenes of Christ and the thieves singing on the cross, would never make it into cinemas now. The Life of Brian was certainly received as controversial in its own day but when censors tried to repress the film in several different countries, The Monty Python crew used their florid sense of humor to their advantage. So, when the film was banned in a few places, they gave it a tagline of: “So funny it was banned in Norway!”

Humor, in fact, in general, depends upon the unexpected (“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!”); repetition to the point of hilarity “you can have eggs, bacon and spam; spam, eggs, spam and sausage; or spam, spam, spam and spam!”); silliness, non-sequitors, caricature and an anarchic blend of the serious and the satirical. And, humor is something that feminists in particular, but radical politics in general, are accused of lacking. Recent controversies within queer communities around language, slang, satirical or ironic representation and perceptions of harm or offensive have created much controversy with very little humor recently, leading to demands for bans, censorship and name changes.

Debates among people who share utopian goals, in fact, are nothing new. I remember coming out in the 1970s and 1980s into a world of cultural feminism and lesbian separatism. Hardly an event would go by back then without someone feeling violated, hurt, traumatized by someone’s poorly phrased question, another person’s bad word choice or even just the hint of perfume in the room. People with various kinds of fatigue, easily activated allergies, poorly managed trauma were constantly holding up proceedings to shout in loud voices about how bad they felt because someone had said, smoked, or sprayed something near them that had fouled up their breathing room. Others made adjustments, curbed their use of deodorant, tried to avoid patriarchal language, thought before they spoke, held each other, cried, moped, and ultimately disintegrated into a messy, unappealing morass of weepy, hypo-allergic, psychosomatic, anti-sex, anti-fun, anti-porn, pro-drama, pro-processing post-political subjects.

Political times change and as the 1980s gave way to the 1990s, as weepy white lady feminism gave way to reveal a multi-racial, poststructuralist, intersectional feminism of much longer provenance, people began to laugh, loosened up, people got over themselves and began to talk and recognize that the enemy was not among us but embedded within new, rapacious economic systems. Needless to say, for women of color feminisms, the stakes have always been higher and identity politics always have played out differently. But, in the 1990s, books on neoliberalism, postmodernism, gender performativity and racial capital turned the focus away from the wounded self and we found our enemies and, as we spoke out and observed that neoliberal forms of capitalism were covering over economic exploitation with language of freedom and liberation, it seemed as if we had given up wounded selves for new formulations of multitudes, collectivities, collaborations, and projects less centered upon individuals and their woes. Of course, I am flattening out all kinds of historical and cultural variations within multiple histories of feminism, queerness and social movements. But I am willing to do so in order to make a point here about the re-emergence of a rhetoric of harm and trauma that casts all social difference in terms of hurt feelings and that divides up politically allied subjects into hierarchies of woundedness.

At this point, we should recall the “four Yorkshire men” skit from Monty Python where the four old friends reminisce about their deprived childhoods – one says “we used to live in a tiny old tumbledown house…” the next counters with “house!? You were lucky to live in a house. We used to live in a room…” And the third jumps in with: “room? You were lucky to have a room, we used to have to live in a corridor.” The fourth now completes the cycle: “A corridor! We dreamed of living in a corridor!” These hardship competitions, but without the humor, are set pieces among the triggered generation and indeed, I rarely go to a conference, festival or gathering anymore without a protest erupting about a mode of representation that triggered someone somewhere. And as people “call each other out” to a chorus of finger snapping, we seem to be rapidly losing all sense of perspective and instead of building alliances, we are dismantling hard fought for coalitions.

Much of the recent discourse of offense and harm has focused on language, slang and naming. For example, controversies erupted in the last few months over the name of a longstanding nightclub in San Francisco: “Trannyshack,” and arguments ensued about whether the word “tranny” should ever be used. These debates led some people to distraction, and legendary queer performer, Justin Vivian Bond, posted an open letter on her Facebook page telling readers and fans in no uncertain terms that she is “angered by this trifling bullshit.” Bond reminded readers that many people are “delighted to be trannies” and not delighted to be shamed into silence by the “word police.” Bond and others have also referred to the queer custom of re-appropriating terms of abuse and turning them into affectionate terms of endearment. When we obliterate terms like “tranny” in the quest for respectability and assimilation, we actually feed back into the very ideologies that produce the homo and trans phobia in the first place! In The Life of Brian, Brian finally refuses to participate in the anti-Semitism that causes his mother to call him a “roman.” In a brave “coming out” speech, he says: “I’m not a roman mum, I’m a kike, a yid, a heebie, a hook-nose, I’m kosher mum, I’m a Red Sea pedestrian, and proud of it!

And now for something completely different…The controversy about the term “tranny” is not a singular occurrence; such tussles have become a rather predictable and regular part of all kinds of conferences and meetings. Indeed, it is becoming difficult to speak, to perform, to offer up work nowadays without someone, somewhere claiming to feel hurt, or re-traumatized by a cultural event, a painting, a play, a speech, a casual use of slang, a characterization, a caricature and so on whether or not the “damaging” speech/characterization occurs within a complex aesthetic work. At one conference, a play that foregrounded the mutilation of the female body in the 17th century was cast as trans-phobic and became the occasion for multiple public meetings to discuss the damage it wreaked upon trans people present at the performance. Another piece at this performance conference that featured a “fortune teller” character was accused of orientalist stereotyping. At another event I attended that focused on queer masculinities, the organizers were accused of marginalizing queer femininities. And a class I was teaching recently featured a young person who reported feeling worried about potentially “triggering” a transgender student by using incorrect pronouns in relation to a third student who did not seem bothered by it! Another student told me recently that she had been “triggered” in a class on colonialism by the showing of The Battle of Algiers. In many of these cases offended groups demand apologies, and promises are made that future enactments of this or that theater piece will cut out the offensive parts; or, as in the case of “Trannyshack,” the name of the club was changed.

As reductive as such responses to aesthetic and academic material have become, so have definitions of trauma been over-simplified within these contexts. There are complex discourses on trauma readily available as a consequence of decades of work on memory, political violence and abuse. This work has offered us multiple theories of the ways in which a charged memory of pain, abuse, torture or imprisonment can be reignited by situations or associations that cause long buried memories to flood back into the body with unpredictable results. But all of this work, by Shoshana Felman Macarena Gomez-Barris, Saidiya Hartman, Cathy Caruth, Ann Cvetkovich, Marianne Hirsch and others, has been pushed aside in the recent wave of the politics of the aggrieved.

Claims about being triggered work off literalist notions of emotional pain and cast traumatic events as barely buried hurt that can easily resurface in relation to any kind of representation or association that resembles or even merely represents the theme of the original painful experience. And so, while in the past, we turned to Freud’s mystic writing pad to think of memory as a palimpsest, burying material under layers of inscription, now we see a memory as a live wire sitting in the psyche waiting for a spark. Where once we saw traumatic recall as a set of enigmatic symptoms moving through the body, now people reduce the resurfacing of a painful memory to the catch all term of “trigger,” imagining that emotional pain is somehow similar to a pulled muscle –as something that hurts whenever it is deployed, and as an injury that requires protection.

k5715Fifteen to twenty years ago, books like Wendy Brown’s States of Injury (1995) and Anna Cheng’s The Melancholy of Race: Psychoanalysis, Assimilation and Hidden Grief (2001) asked readers to think about how grievances become grief, how politics comes to demand injury and how a neoliberal rhetoric of individual pain obscures the violent sources of social inequity. But, newer generations of queers seem only to have heard part of this story and instead of recognizing that neoliberalism precisely goes to work by psychologizing political difference, individualizing structural exclusions and mystifying political change, some recent activists seem to have equated social activism with descriptive statements about individual harm and psychic pain. Let me be clear – saying that you feel harmed by another queer person’s use of a reclaimed word like tranny and organizing against the use of that word is NOT social activism. It is censorship.

In a post-affirmative action society, where even recent histories of political violence like slavery and lynching are cast as a distant and irrelevant past, all claims to hardship have been cast as equal; and some students, accustomed to trotting out stories of painful events in their childhoods (dead pets/parrots, a bad injury in sports) in college applications and other such venues, have come to think of themselves as communities of naked, shivering, quaking little selves – too vulnerable to take a joke, too damaged to make one. In queer communities, some people are now committed to an “It Gets Better” version of consciousness-raising within which suicidal, depressed and bullied young gays and lesbians struggle like emperor penguins in a blighted arctic landscape to make it through the winter of childhood. With the help of friendly adults, therapy, queer youth groups and national campaigns, these same youth internalize narratives of damage that they themselves may or may not have actually experienced. Queer youth groups in particular install a narrative of trauma and encourage LGBT youth to see themselves as “endangered” and “precarious” whether or not they actually feel that way, whether or not coming out as LGB or T actually resulted in abuse! And then, once they “age out” of their youth groups, those same LGBT youth become hypersensitive to all signs and evidence of the abuse about which they have learned.

What does it mean when younger people who are benefitting from several generations now of queer social activism by people in their 40s and 50s (who in their childhoods had no recourse to anti-bullying campaigns or social services or multiple representations of other queer people building lives) feel abused, traumatized, abandoned, misrecognized, beaten, bashed and damaged? These younger folks, with their gay-straight alliances, their supportive parents and their new right to marry regularly issue calls for “safe space.” However, as
Hanhardt’s Lambda Literary award winning book, Safe Space: Neighborhood History and the Politics of Violence, shows, the safe space agenda has worked in tandem with urban initiatives to increase the policing of poor neighborhoods and the gentrification of others. Safe Space: Gay Neighborhood History and the Politics of Violence traces the development of LGBT politics in the US from 1965-2005 and explains how LGBT activism was transformed from a multi-racial coalitional grassroots movement with strong ties to anti-poverty groups and anti-racism organizations to a mainstream, anti-violence movement with aspirations for state recognition.

And, as LGBT communities make “safety” into a top priority (and that during an era of militaristic investment in security regimes) and ground their quest for safety in competitive narratives about trauma, the fight against aggressive new forms of exploitation, global capitalism and corrupt political systems falls by the way side.

Is this the way the world ends? When groups that share common cause, utopian dreams and a joined mission find fault with each other instead of tearing down the banks and the bankers, the politicians and the parliaments, the university presidents and the CEOs? Instead of realizing, as Moten and Hearny put it in The Undercommons, that “we owe each other everything,” we enact punishments on one another and stalk away from projects that should unite us, and huddle in small groups feeling erotically bonded through our self-righteousness.

I want to call for a time of accountability and specificity: not all LGBT youth are suicidal, not all LGBT people are subject to violence and bullying, and indeed class and race remain much more vital factors in accounting for vulnerability to violence, police brutality, social baiting and reduced access to education and career opportunities. Let’s call an end to the finger snapping moralism, let’s question contemporary desires for immediately consumable messages of progress, development and access; let’s all take a hard long look at the privileges that often prop up public performances of grief and outrage; let’s acknowledge that being queer no longer automatically means being brutalized and let’s argue for much more situated claims to marginalization, trauma and violence. Let’s not fiddle while Rome (or Paris) burns, trigger while the water rises, weep while trash piles up; let’s recognize these internal wars for the distraction they have become. Once upon a time, the appellation “queer” named an opposition to identity politics, a commitment to coalition, a vision of alternative worlds. Now it has become a weak umbrella term for a confederation of identitarian concerns. It is time to move on, to confuse the enemy, to become illegible, invisible, anonymous (see Preciado’s Bully Bloggers post on anonymity in relation to the Zapatistas). In the words of José Muñoz, “we have never been queer.” In the words of a great knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, “we are now no longer the Knights who say Ni, we are now the Knights who say “Ekki-ekki-ekki-ekki-PTANG. Zoom-Boing, z’nourrwringmm.”

I really need to stop going into the Crystal tag


- Supersonic Wave (the “crying attack”) appears in both the original manga and the 90s anime. It appears in the first story and again in the funny dentist story (as a MotW plot in SuperS and an arcless short story in the manga). Both Usagi and ChibiUsa can do it, and the 90s anime had ChibiUsa…

good articulation girl! amen. 

calling for an ambulence 

calling for an ambulence 


Artist Name: Jhon A
 Title: Blured Away



Artist Name: Jhon A


 Title: Blured Away



Reinventing the Square

Organized by:

Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía

/ April 30 – September 22, 2014 / Sabatini Building, Floor 1

from the brochure: 

Through a selection of works from different time periods and in different mediums (paintings, sculptures, installations, videos, photographs, archive devices…), this exhibition analyses the socialising, transgressive and political potential of play when it appears linked to public space. The premise of Playgrounds is twofold: on one side, the popular tradition of carnival shows how the possibility of using recreational logic to subvert, reinvent and transcend exists, if only temporarily. On the other side, there has been two fundamental constants in utopian imagery throughout history: the vindication of the need for free time (countering work time, productive time) and the acknowledged existence of a community of shared property, with a main sphere of materialisation in public space. 

I remember how in the 90’s, as a child, whilst exploring the mostly empty playgrounds of Karpoš, my old neighbourhood back in Skopje, I would automatically enter into a variety of personal parallel dimensions and indulge in a great pallet of fantastic experiences – ranging from underwater landscapes where I got acquainted with mermaids and other seacreatures to fighting evil villains (that mostly looked like my schoolmates of the time) in a metropolistic kinda version of my city. Scraped metal fences, wooden box and a bit of sand all would serve as a set for whatever film I was playing in my head, whatever I was hooked on at the time. I, like spouse many other kids, used it as a infrastructure for a world of mine, a code. I guess these are the same tools that later served whilst learning how to draw, academically, or how to write html or php. On that note, now, I would much rather be able to go back to that state where jumping from one dimension to another took only a second and that exactly is one of the major themes of this outstanding exhibition in Museo de Reina Sofia.

A big part of the exhibition tries to chronologically track the evolution of the playground, from it’s conception in the phenomenon of the Carneval, focusing mostly on the engravings by the likes of Goya, through the 20th century and the Aldo van Eyck proposals and designs of what he calls the junk playground and various photographies of kids on streets (Hellen Lewitt, Joan Colom), all the way to the digital era, the now, where those same playgrounds seem to lie abandoned for other, virtual ones. But what makes this exhibition more interesting then just a historical overview of the playground is exhibiting works that think about re-activating those spaces, of re-emagining the sames or using the pure structure and the ideas of Aldo van Eyck for derivative works that explore the differences of child’s play and those of adults ( Priscila Fernandes - NAAR DE SPEELTUIN! / To the playground!, 2012) or simply using it to build a plot and srticulate storytelling (Peter Watkins La commune (Paris, 1871), 2000)

Reading: Susan Sontag - Notes on Camp (an essay from Against Interpretation and Other Essays, 1966)

Favorite segments: 

10. Camp sees everything in quotation marks. It’s not a lamp, but a “lamp”; not a woman, but a “woman.” To perceive Camp in objects and persons is to understand Being-as-Playing-a-Role. It is the farthest extension, in sensibility, of the metaphor of life as theater.

25. The hallmark of Camp is the spirit of extravagance. Camp is a woman walking around in a dress made of three million feathers. Camp is the paintings of Carlo Crivelli, with their real jewels and trompe-l’oeil insects and cracks in the masonry. Camp is the outrageous aestheticism of Steinberg’s six American movies with Dietrich, all six, but especially the last, The Devil Is a Woman… . In Camp there is often something démesuré in the quality of the ambition, not only in the style of the work itself. Gaudí’s lurid and beautiful buildings in Barcelona are Camp not only because of their style but because they reveal — most notably in the Cathedral of the Sagrada Familia — the ambition on the part of one man to do what it takes a generation, a whole culture to accomplish.

30. Of course, the canon of Camp can change. Time has a great deal to do with it. Time may enhance what seems simply dogged or lacking in fantasy now because we are too close to it, because it resembles too closely our own everyday fantasies, the fantastic nature of which we don’t perceive. We are better able to enjoy a fantasy as fantasy when it is not our own.

Thus, things are campy, not when they become old - but when we become less involved in them, and can enjoy, instead of be frustrated by, the failure of the attempt. But the effect of time is unpredictable. Maybe Method acting (James Dean, Rod Steiger, Warren Beatty) will seem as Camp some day as Ruby Keeler’s does now - or as Sarah Bernhardt’s does, in the films she made at the end of her career. And maybe not.

33. What Camp taste responds to is “instant character” (this is, of course, very 18th century); and, conversely, what it is not stirred by is the sense of the development of character. Character is understood as a state of continual incandescence - a person being one, very intense thing. This attitude toward character is a key element of the theatricalization of experience embodied in the Camp sensibility. And it helps account for the fact that opera and ballet are experienced as such rich treasures of Camp, for neither of these forms can easily do justice to the complexity of human nature. Wherever there is development of character, Camp is reduced. Among operas, for example, La Traviata (which has some small development of character) is less campy than Il Trovatore (which has none).

36. But there are other creative sensibilities besides the seriousness (both tragic and comic) of high culture and of the high style of evaluating people. And one cheats oneself, as a human being, if one has respect only for the style of high culture, whatever else one may do or feel on the sly.

For instance, there is the kind of seriousness whose trademark is anguish, cruelty, derangement. Here we do accept a disparity between intention and result. I am speaking, obviously, of a style of personal existence as well as of a style in art; but the examples had best come from art. Think of Bosch, Sade, Rimbaud, Jarry, Kafka, Artaud, think of most of the important works of art of the 20th century, that is, art whose goal is not that of creating harmonies but of overstraining the medium and introducing more and more violent, and unresolvable, subject-matter. This sensibility also insists on the principle that an oeuvre in the old sense (again, in art, but also in life) is not possible. Only “fragments” are possible… . Clearly, different standards apply here than to traditional high culture. Something is good not because it is achieved, but because another kind of truth about the human situation, another experience of what it is to be human - in short, another valid sensibility — is being revealed.

42. One is drawn to Camp when one realizes that “sincerity” is not enough. Sincerity can be simple philistinism, intellectual narrowness.


philistine - a person who is hostile or indifferent to culture and the arts;

oeuvre - body of work;

naďve - native / naive;

link to the whole essay

 The Forgotten Book - lecture at Fundació Francisco Ferrer i Guàrdia, Barcelona, 28th May 2013

The Modern School (La Escuela Moderna, Barcelona, 1901 - 1906), founded by Francesc Ferrer i Guàrdia, offered a free, rational, secular, egalitarian and non-coercive education for children and parents. Francesc Ferrers’ clear comment, on the inequality of the classes, struggled to overcome the obstinate dogmatisms of his era. His school intended a radical social change where the goal was not to adapt the student to fit into a pre-existing society, but prepare them to have a critical vision of their surroundings.


The school was forced to close its doors in 1906 and Francesc Ferrer becomes the victim of theological hate, dominant classes and conservative government, which ultimately lead to his execution in 1909. The model of this revolutionary school continued to influence many other schools after its closure.


However from the perspective of an artist, there seems to have been no place in The Modern School for aesthetic education.


'The Forgotten Book of Aesthetic Education of the Modern School' is a project where I devise what would have been the art education in such an environment.


But this gesture immediately positions many questions. What was the school orientation towards art? What was their considerations about the role of the artist in the shaping of the new society? How could art be included in such a rational and scientific school program? And what was the context of Art in Europe at the emerging of Modernity? And finally, how can  I, living in the 21st century as an artist, enter a history so distant from me by evoking these ghosts without letting myself being possessed by them?



"Zašto si upisivala Likovnu Akademiju ako pišeš poeziju?"

"Zašto ste na ispitu pitali da nabroji deset afričkih država ako se predmet zove Povijest umjetnosti 1?"

Ako ćemo biti toliko kruti i kategorični oko toga koje umjetničke discipline nisu ili jesu za likovnu akademiju, onda predlažem istu dosljednost oko građe koja se odgovara na ispitu iz predmeta koji je vrlo tematski određen.


"His grandmother and I are raising him. I worry about putting him into the public school system. I was a teacher for many years. I’ve seen so much confidence destroyed by the standardized system. Every human is born with natural curiosity. I’ve never seen a child who wasn’t inspired. But once you force someone to do anything, the inspired person is killed. I dropped out of school myself in 7th grade. So I know. I taught a GED course for years, so I’ve seen the end results over and over. I’ve seen so many kids who have complexes and insecurities because they were forced to do something they weren’t ready to do, and then they were blamed when they weren’t able to do it. What we call ‘education’ today is not organic. You can’t take something as complex as the human mind, compartmentalize it, and regiment its development so strictly."


"His grandmother and I are raising him. I worry about putting him into the public school system. I was a teacher for many years. I’ve seen so much confidence destroyed by the standardized system. Every human is born with natural curiosity. I’ve never seen a child who wasn’t inspired. But once you force someone to do anything, the inspired person is killed. I dropped out of school myself in 7th grade. So I know. I taught a GED course for years, so I’ve seen the end results over and over. I’ve seen so many kids who have complexes and insecurities because they were forced to do something they weren’t ready to do, and then they were blamed when they weren’t able to do it. What we call ‘education’ today is not organic. You can’t take something as complex as the human mind, compartmentalize it, and regiment its development so strictly."