Error: API requests are being delayed for this account. New posts will not be retrieved.
There may be an issue with the Instagram access token that you are using. Your server might also be unable to connect to Instagram at this time.
Error: API requests are being delayed for this account. New posts will not be retrieved.
There may be an issue with the Instagram access token that you are using. Your server might also be unable to connect to Instagram at this time.
Error: API requests are being delayed for this account. New posts will not be retrieved.
There may be an issue with the Instagram access token that you are using. Your server might also be unable to connect to Instagram at this time.
Paradise is a new online journal for Australian architecture and research produced by masters students of the UTS SoA. It operates in the present moment of endless apocalypse, at the very height of our global anxiety. The end of something is just the beginning of something else. Bad omens are the growing pains of a body in transformation.
Paradise is Australia. The lucky country at the end of the world. The dream of a clean slate. The violent history written over Country. It is the dramatic irony of the promise and the problem being one and the same. Australia lies at the intersection of the global contemporary: both east and west, both desert and tropical, both future-minded and so backward. We’ll be the first to reach nirvana or the first to tear ourselves apart. Paradise is a cold beer in a living room on fire.
Paradise is a product of dissatisfaction with architecture and our spaces of violence and dispossession, of smoothness and exclusion. It is disillusioned by the carbon form of our world, petrified through decades of human life seeking boundless abundance and individualism. It acts to amplify the fury, the angst, and the achingly optimistic, and seeks to construct an image of our future.
Paradise is for the unexpected and the emerging, the established academic and the bright-eyed underdog. It is both completely serious and totally naive. Paradise welcomes the discomfort of the agonistic multitude, the itchy immaterial condition of adjacency.
■
Paradise is seeking contributions for Issue 01. What better place to start than in our own Backyard?
Through the fence palings what do you see? A well tended garden. A wild lawn. A glistening pool of water edged in blue tiles. Beyond our fence, a private party makes their way through a case of XXXX Gold. The other neighbour’s unwashed car sleeps atop a slab of sunbaked concrete. The faint sound of a sitar floats by on the wind from a few doors down. Through the back fence, only dust as far as the eye can see.
Good fences make good neighbours. You can tell a lot about a person by what their fence encloses, the privacy it protects. The beauty of a fence lies in its unassailable authority. Do what you want, just not in my Backyard. We claimed this patch of dirt with imaginary lines drawn with imported ink. We possessed this piece of Country by staking it out in timber posts.
The flames stopped right at our back fence. We are so lucky. This is our little piece of Paradise.
■
Abstracts due the 5th of December, 2020. Find details on our website www.paradise-journal.com.au or on Instagram @paradise.jrnl
Vignettes of the editorial team’s backyards