Issue 3.42 (Fall 2020): Translingual features poetry, compositions, and soundings by Oana Avasilichioaei, Tatum Howey, Dallas Hunt, Klara du Plessis, Amal Rana, Sophie Seita, Sho Sugita, June Tang, and Christian Vistan & Elisa Ferrari; essays by Nicole Raziya Fong and Fan Wu on reading and writing in translingual modes; a conversation between Klara du Plessis and Sophie Seita on the porosity of working adjacent to languages; and Clint Burnham’s interview with artist Mark Igloliorte on the function and form of the kayak. The art in this issue recasts learned narratives and conceptions of time, featuring work by Damla Tamer, Siku Allooloo, Chantal Gibson, and Mark Igloliorte. With reviews by Hagere Selam “shimby” Zegeye-Gebrehiwot on Manuel Axel Strain’s exhibition Needed Medicine, Jessie Loyer on Lindsay Nixon’s nîtisânak, Khashayar Mohammadi on Klara du Plessis’s Hell Light Flesh, and Matea Kulic & Leah Sharzer on Danielle LaFrance’s JUST LIKE I LIKE IT.
LANGUAGE IS NOT AN OPENING, FISSURE, "LIGHT SHINING THROUGH" ETC., IT IS A HOLE THAT I FALL INTO
How to Read Your Book (or What Hegemony Looks Like)
name me rebel
Hello World: Protocol
from Let it Percolate: A Manifesto for Reading
Review of Needed Medicine by Manuel Axel Strain
Review of nîtisânak by Lindsay Nixon
Review of Hell Light Flesh by Klara du Plessis
COVER: Divination Objects (detail), 2019-20, ink on paper, woven, 127 x 81 cm. Image credit: SITE Photography.
For three weeks beginning Friday, November 20, The Capilano Review celebrates the launch of Issue 3.42: Translingual with three web-only releases. Read more about each project here.
Read and listen to Oana Avasilichioaei’s Chambersonic (I) and (IV) here…
The translingual may be a survival strategy, a coping mechanism, an ethic.
What happens to an erasure of the unwritten
damnatio memoriae of the unsculpted
The translingual has made a traitor of me.
During a recent conversation with a friend, we struck upon the topic of her nearly complete collection of Nancy Drew hardcovers. I immediately pictured them as they had appeared in my childhood: books aged prematurely by the humidity of numerous seasons spent reading them in the Caribbean.