We spend our lives escaping silence, as if stillness were a void instead of a mirror. But the absence of sound is not emptiness — it’s the echo of a primordial stillness, a space where thought thrives and memory lingers, quietly untouched by the noise we’ve learned to need.
Read MoreWhen luxury goods and their counterfeit twins share the same production and manufacturers, authorship starts to look more like a tool for exclusion than a genuine marker of creative integrity. Maybe fakes aren’t that shocking, maybe they’re a reality check for self-important creatives and corporations, a reminder of what honest creation actually is.
Read MoreMy overflowing essence enters another cluster of spirits that stand scrutinizing my form of respect for my identity concept. Naked, my body takes on lightness and gains power. Maybe it plays hide-and-seek between my space and yours. Me & You, we are dots.
Read MoreA love letter to all the versions of love I imagined before they ever had the chance to exist. What does it mean to stay present even when the future no longer fits?
Read MoreRoutine becomes a constant rhythm through which the sublime unfolds. Perfect Days demonstrates the beauty of repetition, where toilet cleaning, cassette tapes, and the shadows of leaves reveal that perhaps inner peace isn’t found in novelty or anything profound, but rather in repetition. Does the mundane really hold the perfection we seek?
Read MoreWhat if the boundaries between academic research, cultural practices, and art could dissolve into a shared space of inquiry? The editorial project Radical Creativities offers a quietly bold model of scholarship: one that values peer-reviewed rigour alongside experimental formats, and that cultivates a mindset of connecting theory and practice, of working across disciplines. We hear from Lorenzo Biferale, Federica Rubino, and María Ruigómez Eraso as they share their vision.
Read MoreIndigenous contemporary art is declaration, it is assertion, it is creation born from struggle. In colonised lands, artistic practice cannot be separated from history. Every exhibition, every sculpture, every performance emerges from the continuum of dispossession and endurance. The body itself becomes a site of resistance — tattooed, moving, unveiled — while the art becomes protest, memory, prophecy.
Read MoreThey say the way to one’s heart is through the stomach, but cooking has taught me that love is a journey through the whole self. Sharing a meal with someone special can be a lesson on empathy and a glimpse into the future. Here’s my reflection on love, accompanied by a warm bowl of soup, made from scratch.
Read MoreJust like now, a certain melancholy incapacitates me every March. A longing for home, not like any other. A bit sad, heaving on the chest, that slowly dissolves as spring finally blooms. Yet revisits every single year.
Read MoreIn this issue you’ll find a selection of special happenings of both Milano Art Week (1-6 April) and Milano Design Week (8-13 April), from new exhibition openings and one-off talks to performances and temporary installations that you can catch in old courtyards and repurposed industrial spaces.
Read MoreLove has always been taught to me as a means to an end… a relationship, a marriage, a heartbreak, or, ultimately, death. So, what is love without a destination? Is it allowed to be called love?
Read MoreWhen you are too white and not poor enough to hate America, you can, and you should, hate it. Loving it is too easy for it to be true, and hating it is painful because the love is real. Read about how a European can get high on Trader Joe’s and Jell-O shots.
Read MoreWhy do we fear the unknown? How do we impose order on the uncertainties of life? A glance in the mirror, a knock on wood—superstitions persist, not as relics of the past, but as quiet anchors of meaning within one hell of a chaotic world.
Read MoreDo you use Apple Music or Spotify? Wired headphones or earbuds on your way to university? When was the last time you played a CD? And when you play something, do you listen?
To those at a lack of groovy tunes - we got you! Check out our latest playlist by Editorial.
Read MoreLast week, B&A visited zaza’ Milano - a fresh artistic entity with a twin site in Naples that entered the Milanese art scene only two years ago - and had the chance to interview the multidisciplinary artist Analisa Teachworth on occasion of her first solo exhibition with the gallery. We talked beeswax, dreams and art world obstacles.
Read MoreFlawless abundance, yet an eerie stillness. What would life look like without jobs? When AI fulfills every promise, what remains of humanity? A true revolution demands rethinking the foundations of the obsolete systems.
Read MoreHis poetry sprung life upon the dead, yet his venomous lust dictated a much darker plot. Indulgence lingers on the verge of creation, crowding the spaces between control and surrender. Who will bear the consequences?
As the car turns, fate unfolds. In the end, we all turn.
Christmas is over, and so are the leftovers from our New Year’s Eve feast. But the emotional scars of enduring distant relatives? Those linger. Whether it’s that aunt grilling you about your master’s plans or Dad’s cousin not shutting up about Trump’s return to the White House, we all have that one family member who turns festive cheer into festive dread. As we bid farewell to the holiday season—and thankfully, to some of those relatives—I can’t help but reflect on an unspoken truth: the painfully familiar awkwardness of large family gatherings. Call this a relatable take on a universal experience or an ode to Emma Seligman’s debut movie, Shiva Baby. Either way, here’s to one and only Rachel Sennott and surviving it all.
Read MoreI put a spell on you to obsessively remember. Carnal. We gain control through losing it, becoming addicted to the sensation of loss. What if I deceived you, presenting only spectral versions of myself, lacking any tangible reality? I’m dying to communicate with you. Fais-moi mal, Johnny.
Read MoreOne’s 20s are tumultuous times, hailed as the best years of life, where childhood is shed as we metamorphose into our final forms. As we start to emerge within our ranks the voices in our ears grow restless insisting we must join them, while time powers on unapologetically. So, where to begin?
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