20 December 2019 07:00PM

Please join us for an evening celebrating the 3rd issue of Slanted House zine, a publication which is always born in the aftermath of an exhibition. Slanted House is an artist's collective split between Berlin, Paris and elsewhere. They have previously published drawing, painting, sculpture, digital art, photography, fiction, essays, poems and interviews...

Ruhi Parmar Amin / Rebecca Chaillon / Ekaterina Costa
Eliot Duncan / Élodie Petit / Etaïnn Zwer

Ruhi Parmar Amin / Elina Bergmark Wiberg
Ekaterina Costa / Yelena Moskovich


The demarcation of translation as we most commonly know it is a great starting point for further experimentation. Let us break down its definition: “the process of translating words or text from one language into another” or “the process of moving something from one place to another.” Take words from these definitions; ‘into’, ‘another’, ‘moving’, ‘place’, ‘process’ – all of these allow room for an investigation into how translation can be interpreted and applied: a connection between mediums, a shift from place to space, a merging of forms or even a displacement of reality into a realm of temporal standstill. Translation is the root of all movement, sensation and comprehension.

In each curved letter, in this word chosen over that one, in a line break here or there, in the lofty project of poetics as a whole, translation persists as foundational. As a creative praxis, it ricochets in myriad forms. The moment before a word is punched on ash smudged keys, a line dragged on paper or the focus of the lens aperture before a photo is taken, there buzzes the pause, the breath, the need to externalize the internal voice of creation not directly but in a different medium, in a new language. Translation is a praxis where the subject challenges traditional use of a space and time as a way to proliferate interlocutors - in whispers, in glances, in sighs or in words. These surfaces reflect the transitory nature that art and writing have assumed in contemporary culture: as impermanent words in an unsaved document or as an ephemeral tag on the yellow rush of an u-bahn door only to be painted over before nightfall. Translation is not limited to the flimsy articulations that language offers.

Translating space and language comes as a difficult task, bridging people in different cities, bridging multiple mediums, bridging cultural understanding and context. So for this exhibition, like cartographers, we build our own topography within the gallery’s walls. Our modular set of symbols, letters and words like the key on a map, guide viewers from point A to point B, in translatory union. A map spreads far and wide, spilling over hills and flowing with the rivers and heavy dark lines of roads. You fold its modules to isolate a segment of the world. You pinch and zoom in on it’s digital grid on your smartphone’s rectangular screen. It is our guide and our language to understanding space, the footprint tracker of our journey among disjointed modules of information in space and in time.

From detailed layers of textual foundation, to streaming undercurrents of visceral gesture and colour, we build our exhibition through various mixed media installations weaving together scattered fragments of the artists’ intricate worlds.