Continuing the series of publications within the framework of the discussion program “The Sinister Quarter and So On,” we are publishing a text-dialogue between Vasilisa Filatova and Vita Zelenskaya, developing the topics of the discussion “Sound maps and routes” , starting from their work in the fields of sound research and anthropology.

On December 4 at 18:00, as part of the public program of the 6th Ural Industrial Biennale of Contemporary Art, a concert-presentation of the laboratory of the ensemble of contemporary academic music InterText will take place. Its participants will perform the work of the Dutch composer Louis Andriessen “Workers Union” , the formal structure of which refers to a political manifestation and is aimed at creating a special form of collectivity within the ensemble.

The theme of Dutch artists, who migrated en masse to London in the second half of the 17th and first decade of the 18th centuries, is a special one in the history of fine art. “A city that will always have money to adequately support art,” the artists hoped during this period, according to their biographer Jacob Weyerman, when leaving their homeland.

My dear friend, I am writing to you from The land of masters and servants, Which is now the bottom for you. My dear friend, Co-author of these lines, The owner of the second pair of hands, Where under the invisible movement No roads visible. I got blissfully drunk the other day, Your voice broke through the noise of delirium. Now I “don’t do it” at all And I only write poetry. We will stick our miles-swept banner Into the amber field behind the emerald forest.

(original video : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=as92E-EESoo) Ivan Isaev: I think it’s time to start our conversation about hospitality and how a residency program can be structured in this context. I'm going to talk about my experience working on the Garage Museum Workshops project, which I curated from late 2019 to September 2021. And probably in the most logical and closest way to some kind of factual story, I will speak through presentations that presented this project within the team.

The woman has a sun on a rainbow staircase The clouds are giving birth, Berries scattered from invisible arrows At low tide the waters recede. In the evening the gadfly steals the fire On the crescent of a bow, Silk horse disperses, Rice soul and bamboo toad. A golden face in grief Resting its peak into the abyss, The day keeps a secret Hidden in iron blood. Crystal maiden in a red stream Three peoples are doomed to torment, Drowning them in tropical rock From which she sculpted her hands.

Forget about the past - At least the flood is before us, The past has gone Stories are a dead bug. Let the king of birds lead us From the space of stench, The face sculptor will give hope, And the sea horses will submit. The streets are a square spiral, People rubbing against each other is powerless, A lumpen stole from the temple Stone of creation. From the touch of the Burning One Mushroom beards are turning red, With the breath of the reader The city stops are scrolling through.

Shaking a leaf in the autumn web, I feel the snow on my aching knees, Red Clay Man Fell in love with a mannequin. Alluring secrets: The word that was in the beginning, the sound And the last one, not the last one, Hearts beating. Eyebrow shaving flight From glass to glass, From a hurricane to a whirlpool, From whirlpool to hurricane. Light. I touched the light with my outstretched hand, The shine of stars, the twinkling of comets - An icy whisper covered everything.

Sometimes the agenda is more important than the form. Valentin Petrov is one of the Murmansk artists working in the direction of public art. Public art is an installation that is built into the context of the installation site, setting a new meaning in an old place or highlighting an existing one. Valentin’s art objects “Mushrooms”, installed in non-random places, are an example of this kind of implementation. The artist’s latest Public Art object is a red bicycle fastened to a fence.

American experimental composer Alvin Lussier died on December 1. We are publishing an excerpt from his book Music 109 , published last year by Jaromir Hladik press . Translation by Sasha Moroz In the late 1960s I was looking outside of music for inspiration. I didn't want to write music like everyone else, write for traditional musical instruments. I didn't even want to play an instrument, even though I made my living as a choral conductor. I wanted to find my idea.

The heart is constrained by the aching frost, The look is dirty with evil faces. In every gesture of passers-by there is a threat, You're raving about getting out of town and drinking yourself to death. Even if you die in winter, You twist the bullet, divide by zero, you die, Somewhere in eternity there is a starry surf In the summer the stars will warm you up.