20x20
magazine issue five | 2010
Welcome to issue five of 20x20 magazine, a square platform for writings, visuals and crossbred projects. The works in this issue have been assembled around the meta-words BASIC NEEDS, to which the artists and authors have responded in very different ways. The aim is to bring together interesting contributions and create a collection of pieces with no expiry date. We would like to thank all contributors for their work that inspire us to put together and publish this magazine. Francesca and Giovanna Cover image: Basic Needs sustain our lives by Mario Pinheiro
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London, 2010 ISSN 1757-9007 Editors | Giovanna Paternò, Francesca Ricci Marketing | Daniela Donohoe
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20x20 magazine issue five | contents
visions | Mario Pinheiro, I am my needs and what I do to satisfy them
03
visions | Gemma Pascual, Horror en el Hipermercado
04
words | Hicham Bensassi, The Grand Factory
08
visions | Luke Jerram, Glass Microbiology
09
words | Merceds Lawry, Housing
14
visions | Samantha Dolan, Shelter
15
words | Richard House, Endnotes
16
blender | Francesca Ricci, Extract from the Book of Freedom
18
words | Changming Yuan, Sexual Slogans
20
visions | Chengsi Lu, Cupcake
20
visions | Chengsi Lu, Noodle
21
blender | David Berridge, Dogman Morning Ritual
22
visions | Christopher Harper, The corruption of rust and moths n. 2
24
words | Asim Khan, The Magpie’s Reflection and Fiend
25
words | Robert West, The Inevitable
26
visions | Christopher Harper, The corruption of rust and moths n. 1
27
blender | Walid Siti, Handle with Care!
28
words | Hicham Bensassi, My Fire King
30
words | Timothy Earl, Most days I feel like Ally Sheedy
31
contributors | biographies
32
visions | Rob Jones, Visions
33
(opposite) Mario Pinheiro, I am my needs and what I do to satisfy them
page 7 | 20x20 magazine
words
the grand factory Hicham Bensassi Outside the gates a crowd had formed around a uniformed figure, scattered hands raged across the yard pointing blender
with sharpened fingers, any which way he could get a reaction from his newly made audience. His right eye had a sort of slant that made people fix their gaze on his left, this was a trick he had learnt from his old days in the cells, allowing him to process their meters in his head while holding up a rap,
visions
these were bad times, or so they thought, wrapped up in their mathematic depression. Inside angry bees were pounding at the light bulbs, one by one filling in on electric wheelchairs, corresponding buzz switches plagued the space with random machine belches, clockwork hangovers, monday love. Olli was in hour three of ten, his need for time keeping was now minimal, he focused on the machine parts, motor, belt, circuit… screw tip of rod to top clip, repeat, The factory was a tower block, a man made brick finger shooting towards the sun, Sixty floors of monotony, with a central lift, never stopping and windows had long been scrapped. Boss man was prowling, like a time fiend through the aisles, talking to a headless voice on his grey phone “Take out the tax and you get ten years of missing information, yeah but there’s so many six week attachment plans”. His voice melted into skwarks of metal, conveyor belt rhythms and sleepy clunks of precision, Olli stared at him as he passed, analysing his posture, his accent, obvious bragging like a good knodent, a term invented by the workers for the mindless know it alls that spent their days punching buttons pretending to be “running the place”, the lights dimmed, ready for the afternoon tannoy announcement, the machinery ground to a trudging slow speed operation, “All second floor machine attendants, will now be needed for part four of the aptitude examination, please report to floor twenty seven. All other attendants may continue” Complaints with tiny electrics, missing with foolish water, and the attendant booths: isolated dark grey mini cabins sank backward, visible space outside booth: small rectangular section for the attendant to reach the present object on the belt, allowing the attendant the allotted time to complete process like the ones in the pictures, for a moment of immobility, until the next component is dragged into view. Equipped with water dispenses and slots for lunch trays to be placed through at the specified time up in the gutters, leviathanic hymns and faint scattering heights, a trip to the toilet permitted every two hours, Olli had been there a year next Tuesday, Performing in antiques, the last Tuesday he planned to spend there naked in hundreds, back to the cold fruitless bursts of the burning funnels… Screw tip of rod to top clip, repeat… Monday screamed back with a slap. 20x20 magazine | page 8
glass microbiology Luke Jerram
HIV
page 9 | 20x20 magazine
words
sexual slogans Changming Yuan
blender
A steak a day keeps the court away A touch a minute keeps the body in spirit A lie an hour keeps the chief in power
visions
An injection a night keeps the mind light A dinner a week keeps the heart freak A honeymoon a month keeps the government at arm’s length A trip a season keeps the dog in reason A chef a year keeps the house dear A wedding a decade keeps the couple off headache
Chengsi Lu, Cupcake (opposite) Noodle
20x20 magazine | page 20
... DOG MAN REINCARNATED AS FRIED CHICKEN WINGS
DGMN SAYS: GO ON! TAKE MY VOWELS!
DOG MAN SAYS WIDE OPEN SPACES IN YOUR DOGS EYES DOG MAN SAYS I AM THE DOG MAN IN YOUR DOGS EYES
DOG MAN SAYS GLAD ALL OVER AGAIN IN YOUR DOGS EYES DOG MAN SAYS IS EVERYBODY HAPPY IN YOUR DOGS EYES
OH DOG MAN IT’S 3 AM ON BRICK LANE YOU’RE DELIRIOUS
DOG MAN SAYS I MEASURE TIME IN YOUR DOGS EYES
DOG MANʼS TONGUE ENDS GLOBAL RECESSION
by David Berridge page 23 | 20x20 magazine
20x20 magazine | page 24
Christopher Harper, The corruption of rust and moths n. 2
words
the magpie’s reflection the gradual turn. the moth floats curious through concrete fissures, following currents;
junkyard orchards chime to wind.
blender
gazing, burning, near kindle, the wisp;
fiend
and grass is lazy now, planes are shooting stars (cough, muffle, splutter, spittle) but continue,
as sexy dreams are whispered into fractals,
in your dreary manner
tasting the breath of fright, pensive
so you may sleep;
visions
Shhhhh...
poets use painters to describe; in time, forgetting names of movements, then back to modern.
and in your slumber, you will play.
others, they live vicarious through the electronic, curtain filters on the urban lighthouses;
your body coiled –
watches – sepals float in stop motion,
as fluid foreign –
from leaflet questions, to whet appetite though.
it is an illness carved by fear.
Who Drew The Racist Graffiti in the style of a blog comment,
let it overwhelm you
use of scaffolding as a pillory
this false elation
the road signs are there
fatal vision –
to a distant train’s clacking.
with sour low.
to the ghetto market glister – by the nascent cobwebs sites and sounds – seashells, insomniac nostalgic; the bansuri speaks deep in care cutting, flowing/flowing, cutting we tremble:
Poems by Asim Khan
the chains, the cycles – golden triangles, broken strings, unknown powders – spiritual, all thoughts linger on the chewing gum...
page 25 | 20x20 magazine
Walid Siti
visions
blender
words
handle with care!
20x20 magazine | page 28
Rob Jones is an illustrator and designer from Kent, UK. He graduated from the UCA in Maidstone, 2008 and has since been working on a freelance basis. He is also one part of the illustrative collective Wolfwind that work on a variety of commissioned and personal projects. His passion is drawing and painting and is inspired by the psyche, stories, situations and people www.robjonesillustration.co.uk Asim Khan lives in Birmingham, England. His poetry and photography has appeared or is forthcoming in various magazines. He can be found at his local library between 6-8pm, Monday to Friday. Mercedes Lawry was born and raised in Pittsburgh, PA and has lived in Seattle over thirty years. She has published poetry in such journals as Poetry, Rhino, Nimrod, Poetry East, Seattle Review, and others. Her chapbook, There Are Crows in My Blood, was published by Pudding House Press and she has a chapbook forthcoming from Finishing Line PressHappy Darkness. She has also published some fiction as well as stories and poems for children. She has received awards from the Seattle Arts Commission, Hugo House, and Artist Trust. She has been a Jack Straw Writer and held a residency at Hedgebrook.
Rob Jones, Visions
page 33 | 20x20 magazine