Mailing List


Alex Quicho
Alex Quicho is the author of Small Gods (Zero Books, 2021), a book on the terror and transcendence of drone technology. She has written for the White Review, the New Inquiry, Wired, Vogue, Bookforum, and others, and worked with institutions including Singapore Art Museum, Power Station of Art (Shanghai), Julia Stoschek Collection (Berlin), Somerset House (London), Rennie Museum (Vancouver), and Nationalgalerie (Berlin). She is an associate lecturer in speculative futures at Central Saint Martins.

Articles Available Online


Without World

Essay

June 2023

Alex Quicho

Essay

June 2023

‘I had to create a world of my own, like a climate, a country, an atmosphere in which I could breathe, reign, and recreate...

Art Review

December 2020

End Times: Heather Phillipson’s ‘The End’

Alex Quicho

Art Review

December 2020

A huge swirl of whipped cream, garnished with a drone, a fly, and a maraschino cherry: so insistent that...

I awoke bathed in perspiration, my teeth clenched Once again, as on countless previous nights, I had been hunted from pillar to post in a dream – shot at, tortured, scalped But on this night, of all nights, the thought occurred to me that I might not be the only one among thousands upon thousands to be condemned to such dreams by the dictatorship   Charlotte Beradt, ‘Dreams under Dictatorship’, Free World (1943)   Born in Berlin in 1907 into a Jewish merchant family, Charlotte Beradt was working as a journalist when the Nazis took power in Germany in 1933 Around this time, she began collecting dreams, slowly compiling a record of the ramifications of Nazi ideology on the unconscious minds of her local community, from doctors and civil servants to students and homemakers Over the course of 6 years, Beradt collected accounts of around 300 individuals’ dreams, a project which ended in 1939 when she fled Germany for the USA   I was reminded of Beradt’s extraordinary project whilst exploring Daria Martin’s Tonight the World, a multi-media installation made in response to a dream diary kept by Martin’s grandmother Susi Stiassni, currently on view at the Barbican Curve Gallery The family, prominent Jewish textile manufacturers, fled their home in Brno in 1938, when Czechoslovakia was on the brink of Nazi occupation Aged only 16 when they left the country, Stiassni went on to keep a dream diary for around 35 years, accumulating some 20,000 pages of material Hers is an acutely personal project: almost too private to engage with as an outsider, and impossibly monumental to comprehend as a whole   Martin’s Tonight the World opens with a videogame that simulates the Stiassni family home in Brno, a modernist villa which still stands today Watching the prerecorded play-through, we are granted a first-person perspective on a faithfully recreated 3D model of the house and garden In the course of the game, the player discovers several artefacts from Martin’s grandmother’s childhood, among them a toy soldier, a locket and a model robot As the player interacts with these objects, specific pages from the

Contributor

July 2018

Alex Quicho

Contributor

July 2018

Alex Quicho is the author of Small Gods (Zero Books, 2021), a book on the terror and transcendence of...

Emily Pope, The Sitcom Show

Art Review

July 2018

Alex Quicho

Art Review

July 2018

Emily Pope’s five-part web series, The Sitcom Show, is a throwback to the chameleonic class-consciousness and wry pessimism-as-realism embodied by the vein of British pop culture...

READ NEXT

feature

Issue No. 9

Leaving Theories Behind

Enrique Vila-Matas

feature

Issue No. 9

I. I went to Lyon because an organisation called Villa Fondebrider invited me to give a talk on the relationship...

Art

May 2016

Sharon Hayes

Edwina Attlee

Art

May 2016

Sharon Hayes’ In My Little Corner of the World, Anyone Would Love You at Studio Voltaire features a five-channel...

fiction

Issue No. 3

Fifteen Flowers

Federico Falco

TR. Janet Hendrickson

fiction

Issue No. 3

To Lilia Lardone Summer was ending. The air already smelled like smoke, but it still looked clear, sunny. The...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required