and always a kennel this tongue is bearing
witness

The Via Carriona Colonnata 2 is a historic adress. Part of the former marble railway, then home to the Ponte di Ferro, sculptor’s studio and atopos.

a loveletter.

poem by erri de luca, recited fragmentarily.
but over and over to come to an end.
or how does one say goodbye?
with gestures that flee when they grab.

grief is precise in its expression but verbally numb. Mourning, the page becomes a fraud. Pretending to give surface to something that constantly neglects it, that per se means: heavy, burden or engraving.
A linguistic failure thus becomes a material process, a spatial transition. And the debris it produces: simultaneous sensations of screaming and muting. imprints found pages later, asking: can a word become a rupture? How long till it ends? depending on the thickness of the paper and the emphasis of the hand. echoing: what here is of weight? Is language bound to its recipient or to its speaker? When does writing become a non verbal gesture? Are these white flags? Or a body of language? Can you read me?
There is nothing on them said the copy lady. maybe with eyes closed.

„Whereas speech is ephemeral, writing is concrete“ says the Britannica. The letter preserves and organizes — but it also levels, conceals, and hides. It is itself subject to a system of order. This edition aims to disrupt that order. The graphic sign serves as its spatial detonation. It is literal engagement with the materiality of the sign, questioning its semantic shackles and semiotic possibilities. It tests the elasticity of its lines for fractures, impact and expressiveness. What happens when the letter is removed from its rigid, functional context—displaced, translated, deconstructed? It shifts surfaces, backgrounds, colors, and collides with itself to reveal: where does it stand out, where is it absorbed, and how does it ultimately speak about itself?

stamped on 350 g Sirio platinum paper, 140 g uncoated paper and transparent PVC

Dictionaries are actually poetry collections, but no one ever reads them like that.
They are dominoes of meanings, they can be lovers, as Harryette Mullen writes, or the double beds in which Uljana Wolf lays foreign languages. They are full of sleeping realities: everything is there, but nothing speaks. Parla Parla is an invitation to speak, in spite of every lacking vocabulary. Between poetic essay, sounding archive and performative language criticism, Parla Parla is also a fragmented audio recording from a place in Italy that calls itself and its residents like that: Parlaparla, indicating that no word is ever defined by what it says, but rather: meaning is use.

stamped at Gerin Druck on 100g/m2 Salzer EOS Blauweiß
edition of 60 copies