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Check out mono.kultur #30 Chris Ware in a new film by Art21, “Chris Ware: Someone I’m Not. From his home and studio in Oak Park, Illinois, artist Chris Ware shares motivations and challenges for telling stories from the perspectives of others in his work. “I distinctly remember being told by my teachers, if you draw women, you’re colonizing them with your eyes,” Ware recalls of art school. “Do you not draw women and then maintain an allegiance to some sort of experience that only you have had? Or do you try to expand your understanding and your empathy for other human beings?”


By golly, revered design blog It’s Nice That also penned a little review of our latest issue with Fatima Al Qadiri, including a short interview with our humble selves on why, what and when. Thank you. Sigh.


After a lengthy hiatus, Nine Inch Nails are back with Add Violence, a 5-track EP that sees them back in form – it compares in sound to 2005’s With Teeth, when we featured mastermind Trent Reznor for our, oh dear, third issue ever.


Being a bit nostalgic on a monday afternoon. PHC by Jaden Smith ft. Willow Smith.
More text on instgram @mono.kultur and @dalidernil


We’re not sure why our latest issue is only now arriving in stores in London, but we do love the word ‘astute’. We love it even more in combination with the word ‘typically’. Is that really us they are talking about? And why is that tea only lukewarm again? Thank you magCulture for the kind words.


Just to let you know that our mono.editionen #05 poster with Chris Ware, no less, is still available, capturing the whole range of wonder and melancholy that is adult life in one glorious wordless strip.

PS. Yep, it’s raining again in Berlin.



Our storage has grown into a wild and impenetrable territory that requires some climbing, balancing and rummaging on all fours. It is also uncharted territory where every now and then, a forgotten box will appear, with issues that we thought long sold out. As happened recently with our mono.archiv #02, comprising some of our most popular issues to date, including the wondrous and wonderful Miranda July, rebellious Ai Weiwei, gallant Dries van Noten and mysterious Tilda Swinton. All issues sold out, and yes, we are pretty certain, for good. Last copies only available here and now, in one glorious and mouthwatering box set.


Your first EP was released under the pseudonym Ayshay. With Genre-Specific Xperience, you started releasing as Fatima Al Qadiri. Why did you abandon that pseudonym?

Having used Islamic a cappella as samples for my first releases, it made sense to use a pseudonym, as this project was a little edgy. I felt like the next record, Genre-Specific Xperience, was way more chill; it was more about my own personal experience of musical genres as breeding grounds for different social groups or ‘tribes’ and lifestyles and vice versa. So it felt more natural to use my real name. And I wanted it to be very clear that it was first of all a woman making this music, and second, that it was an Arab woman making this music. I didn’t want to hide behind a pseudonym anymore.

Why was that important to you at this point, to be clear about your identity?

I had too many conversations with people online that assumed I was male. So there was an impetus for me to put a foot down and to say: I’m a woman and I’m not from the West. And I’m glad I did that because now more people in the Arab world know about me. Also, I thought it was important to give a signal to younger girls there, to let them know: If I can do this, they can do this, too.

— Fatima Al Qadiri in our new issue mono.kultur #43


Desert Strike is a reflection on your experiences during the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait and the Gulf War in 1990/1991…’

Yes, but it is even more about this disgusting video game with the same title that came out in 1992, which I hated but, at the same time, couldn’t stop playing because it was so evil. It was the first of its kind that was marketed for kids as a war game and specifically a contemporary war game – just one year after the liberation of Kuwait – as a way of profiting from the war. And it obviously served as a propaganda tool, too. The game itself had no soundtrack – there was only the sound of the helicopters and bombs – and this is what made it feel more like a training tool for the military than a video game for kids. My EP was an attempt to replace that silence in the game, but also to snuff out a game where war and invasion, death and destruction, were used as very cynical tools. It was in that sense the first really fucked up game I was exposed to.

— Fatima Al Qadiri in our new issue mono.kultur #43