v.1 is RISD’s student-led publication. Its form and content change from year to year (it’s always “volume 1”).

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Pandemic Publishing ︎

  1. Call for Submissions, SOS Edition
  2. 3.29.20 Irina V. Wang
  3. Let Yourself Be Lifted Jackie Scott
  4. Art Is Everything Jen Liese
  5. Two Poems Ella Rosenblatt
  6. Living Room Dance Party Ariel Wills
  7. On Walking When Walking Is Advised Against Keavy Handley-Byrne
  8. Untitled Cita Devlin
  9. Ads in Corona Hannah Oatman
  10. COVID-19 and Communitas Elaine Lopez
  11. A Time for Pie Elizabeth Burmann
  12. How to Stay Motivated When You’re Stuck at Home Clarisse Angkasa
  13. Coerced Harmony (A Tour) Hammad Abid
  14. Zooming In and Out Tongji Philip Qian
  15. [Form] Ciara Carlyle
  16. Hi.txt Dan Luo
  17. A poem about boredom, a composite Maixx Culver-Hagins
  18. Eyewitness News Tristram Lansdowne
  19. Distance Maps Marcus Peabody
  20. Therapeutic Suggestion Maria Aliberti Lubertazzi
  21. Keep Your Heart Six Feet Away From Mine (and other moments) Arielle Eisen
  22. Twenty Instructions for COVID-19 Charlott Isobel Dazan
  23. Cuerno 1 y 2 Yan Diego Estrella Wilson
  24. A Monolith of Grief Regarding the Absence of Touches, or Letter to a Future Lover García Sinclair
  25. Coronavirus by the Thousands Drew Dodge
  26. Two Poems Kathryn Li
  27. Beds Are Burning Aleks Dawson
  28. Still Lifes Yidan Wang
  29. Fragments of Seva Jagdeep Raina
  30. Packing Up and Staying Woojin Kim
  31. Chronic Pain and Fermentation Ralph Davis
  32. Quarantine Letters Hannah Moore
  33. Sounds of Silence: An Isolation Soundscape Dara Benno
  34. 14 Day Detox for Designers Erica Silver

Winter 2020

  1. From the Editors
  2. The Phantom Audience, or How to “Really Do It” Asher White
  3. Some Dry Season(ing) / 5 Tales in an Embryo Room Yuqing Liu
  4. Throwing Salt, Constructing the Homeland Ariel Wills
  5. Infinity Balloon Man Jack Zhou
  6. Texas Triptych Ali Dipp
  7. Phenomenology of Bones Chris Shen
  8. Erlking Yiqun Zhou
  9. Trouble in Reality Elena Foraker
  10. Family Stories Gina Vestuti
  11. Treasure Reilly Blum

Fall 2019
  1. From the Editors
  2. Architecture and Its Ghosts Xuan Liu
  3. Fit/O!de Jeff Katz
  4. Desde La Chinaca y La China Poblana Ariel Wills
  5. Ballast Tiger Dingsun
  6. Love Letters Brenda Rodriguez
  7. The Anxieties of Plant-sitting Carol Demick
  8. Zadie & Teju Ariel Wills
  9. Smooth Stones Ali Dipp 
  10. Kantha’s Melodies Michelle Dixon
  11. Glory West Megan Solis
  12. The 50 Best Albums of the 2010s Asher White

Spring 2019

  1. From the Editors
  2. A Room without a View: Reflections on Studio Practice from a Privileged Poor Chantal Feitosa
  3. Between the Battlements Jeremy Wolin

  4. Accessing Color: Dissecting the Harvard Art Museum’s Forbes Pigment Collection Makoto Kumasaka
  5. British Club Tattoos Nasser Alzayani
  6. Making Space: Creativity and Resilience in War-Time Sri Lanka Elizabeth Dean Hermann
  7. How to Become Trans: A Proposal for the Modern-Day Gender-Agnostic Asher White
  8. Making It Up: A Conversation with Kent Kleinman Wen Zhuang
  9. “In Peace”: A Conversation with Matthew Shenoda Mays Albaik
  10. Suburbia_hours.mov Nora Mayer
  11. Negative Spaces Emily Wright
  12. Centerfold: Urgency Lab
  13. Rise Up: The Sunrise Movement Takes Root in Rhode Island Irina V. Wang
  14. After Strand Nafis White and García Sinclair
  15. Soldiers of Love? Karen Schiff
  16. Decoding Ghosts Molly Hastings
  17. An Annotated Bibliography Eli Backer
  18. Jesus, Marilyn, and Britney: Relationships between Religion and Celebrity Culture Nina Yuchi
  19. The Social (Antique) Network: Empathy in the Age of Digital Antiquing Zola Anderson
  20. My Little Episodes Michael Brandes
  21. Seeking Fair Game on Hidden Fields Reilly Blum
  22. The Should Be Here Is Not Here Joss Liao
  23. Index of Agency Sophie Chien
  24. Don’t Eat the Models Barbara Stehle
  25. Hypothetical Drink Personality Test: Who Said What, and When? Eliza Chen
  26. Dear Arabic Mohammed Nassem

Fall 2018 

  1. From the Editors
  2. How to Make a Person: A Recipe Mays Albaik
  3. Providence Votes Marcus Peabody
  4. Encounters with the Codex: Redefining Forms of Publication June Yoon
  5. How to Encounter a Puddle Anny Li
  6. A Brief List of Premises from a Maker Stuck with Paper, Politics, and Performance Yasi Alipour
  7. Art Writing and the Place of the “I” Randy Kennedy
  8. Written in Stone: Lineage, Legacy, and Letterforms Irina V. Wang
  9. The Unbearable Whiteness of Being (a Graphic Designer) Tiger Dingsun
  10. Colliers/Necklaces Théïa Flynn
  11. When One Door Closes: Examining Issues of Space and Student Curation on Campus Wen Zhuang
  12. Addressing the Empty Plinth: Lessons from Gallery Shows and Public Art Jeremy Wolin
  13. Modern Usage: In Conversation with Remeike Forbes Eliza Chen and Tiger Dingsun
  14. Dangling Threads: Remaining Unclear in Capital Everett Epstein
  15. A Vagabond Viking Voyage and Midsummer Daydream Mike Fink
  16. Everything is Interdependent Angela Dufresne
  17. La Bolita Elaine Lopez
  18. Bread Day Olive B. Godlee
  19. Against the Archive Satpreet Kahlon

2017 - 2018 

  1. Birds, Bees, and Beyond: The Nature Lab Evolves
  2. Concrete Mixer Drum Solo
  3. Negative Spaces
  4. “Printer Prosthetics” at NYABF
  5. On Writing: Nader Tehrani and Katie Faulkner
  6. On Writing: Marie Law Adams and Dan Adams
  7. On Writing: Kunlé Adeyemi
  8. Connecting Food and Design
  9. Remixing Architectural Discourse
  10. Genesis : 1: Beret Shit
  11. “No voy a actuar en el mundo antes de entenderlo”: Una conversación con Alfredo Jaar
  12. “I Will Not Act in the World Before Understanding the World”: A Conversation with Alfredo Jaar
  13. Imagining Irmgard
  14. Afterwords: Bite
  15. Afterwords: Portals
  16. Afterwords: Calendar
  17. Seeking Drafts

A Time for Pie

Elizabeth Burmann (MFA SC 2020)

These days everyone is saying that time is nothing anymore, or doesn't mean anything. I'm not quite sure about that, but time has definitely revealed its own self-regulation, unraveling the random or relative boundaries we impose over daily life to make it feel “normal.”

I feel that emotional scales have shifted too. What seemed important—“BIG ISSUES,” like finishing my Master’s degree, preparing a thesis show under a mental plan of stress and success—doesn't really bother me anymore. It's weird how certain preoccupations just vanished into another orbit, another dimension.

Is this what they call a paradigm shift? I don’t know, but I do feel like I’ve just fallen into a giant pocket. I always thought of pockets as containers of their own time: like if you leave something inside a pocket—a candy wrapper, a loose button—that thing will remain there in a time that will be past for you but a different present-tense for the in-pocket thing. Once you encounter the thing forgotten in the pocket again, both time dimensions meet. Yes, I'm in a pocket right now, along with this city, this New England house, its furniture and dust, which after June date TBD I won't see again. All of this will remain in a pocket that doesn't fit any of my future clothes.

Inside this new order of the pocket, mundane, tiny things have become incredibly important. Stress, frustration, and excitement have transformed into the (meta) quotidienne, making everything that happens inside highly responsible for preserving well-being and moods. Take, for example, a cake I made last week. By now, with water under the domestic bridge, I have forgiven this cake, but last week it made me feel so upset—it really ruined my day.

The cake was going to be a great cake; I had been craving it, my friend Isidora’s recipe: blueberry cake, soaked in coffee. We ate it once that late summer under the vine. Perfect. I'm not going to work on thesis today, I'm going to procrastinate in the kitchen. I ask her for the recipe.

I often improvise a little bit, and cut out sugar or stuff like that, but I don’t much this time, because there’s no room for failure in this quarantined house.

The recipe includes everything but the blueberries. “Add blueberries,” Isidora says. So I do, I add a bunch of blueberries, and then more, and more. Why save any of them? If I'm not giving it my all, why even do it? It’s gonna be so good.

The cake is in the oven; it’s rising. I'm excited. In Santiago my cakes would never rise. It was the fault of my oven there, surely. This oven is reliable. I’m happy. I’m talking on the phone with Ives, telling him how good the cake is looking, and how bad the oven in Santiago was. I'm having a good time, I'm laughing, making jokes on the phone. Spending your day baking is great! Good endorphins! Those things you hear about baking healing depression might be absolutely true.

I check the cake: it’s not so golden on top. Ives tells me I should be careful not to burn the bottom. I'm indecisive. Maybe it's burning on the bottom. It has to be perfect. I wait 2 minutes and take it out, send Ives a picture.

It’s a little pale. I put it back in the oven, and a minute later second guess myself and take it out again. Why keep waiting? Why am I being so insecure? It’s just a cake, it's fine.

I flip it over and start banging the mold with a wood spoon. It's kind of hard. It doesn't want to come out, I’ll call you later, Ives.

This mold is tricky. I have never used one like this before. But it will work out. I will make it look like a cake-cake, a real cake, I think, and then … disaster.

Damn, the bottom falls out, revealing a pocked layer of blueberries. I feel so stupid. It’s obvious, it’s science! It was probably too hot. I should have waited for the cake to cool down before dislodging it. But this wasn’t in the recipe. Now I'm mad at Isidora. I wanted the secret! The whole secret for the perfect cake.

Deflated, but just maybe it looks cute? I send a picture to Ives. ”It's fine,” he says. “It looks like granite. It looks like your work actually.” I wonder what he means … to which work?

It looks similar to many of my hand selfies for sure.

But he said granite, so maybe he meant this:

Aglomeron-foam, 2017.

Ives’s  comparison to my work, which favors the process and experience over the artifact, gives me sudden hope. Maybe it was just an aesthetic mistake; maybe the cake will taste good.

The crust is good, but the cake inside is raw. I eat it anyway. I'm sad, I'm angry with myself, and my stomach hurts, because of course, eating hot, raw cake is not the best idea. I’m eating my frustration to see if it disappears.

The next day, my cousin sends a beautiful picture on the family chat of a cake that she made.  Accepting my failure I send mine. ”That mold is so hard,” my grandmother says. I knew it! It was the mold, not me! Then she adds, ”I can't make cakes. They never rise! I'm good at pies though …”

That's it! Thanks, Abi, I’ll follow your example. No more cakes, with all their precious cooking conditions and whimsical porosity, just sweet, simple, solid pies. I’m keeping that lesson for culinary/emotional survival these days not in my pocket but just below my sleeve.