Circuits of Correspondence
January–July, 2025
Virtual Conversations: March 15, 2025 and April 19, 2025

Circuits of Correspondence is a multi-part mail art exchange bringing together a network of international artists and cultural producers to reflect on solidarity and connection as acts of resistance. The artists are invited to exchange correspondence in two simultaneous ways—via snail mail and email—in the span of five months, with prompts workshopped together in advance, addressing topics such as radical kinship, acts of kindness, and what it means to be a cultural producer today. Each participant is welcome to write in their native language, adding a layer of complexity to the translation of intimacy and poetics.

Participating artists: Mitsuko Brooks (Brooklyn, NY), Abril Castro (Mexico City), Regina José Galindo (Guatemala City), Raquel Gutiérrez (Los Angeles, CA/Tucson, AZ), Laila Hida (Marrakesh), hú-tu (Laura Dudu, Los Angeles, CA and huiyin zhou, China/New York), and Geraldine Lanteri (Buenos Aires).

The artists will participate in two virtual conversations via Zoom on March 15, 2025, and April 19, 2025. The virtual conversations feature simultaneous interpretation for local and international audiences.

The project culminates in a digital publication launching in July 2025, that gathers images and texts from the mail art exchange, and reflections from the virtual conversations.

More information is HERE
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snapshots of writings:

Being in community with other artists and weaving our collective Circuits of Correspondence have helped me return to my desire to write and create: not as a solo practice, but as a gift, a whisper, an exchange, a conversation. The geographical and temporal distance of the physical mailing beyond the immediacy of digital communications also allowed me to reimagine my relationship with time and decay: the water stains in mail, the excitement of receiving a piece of someone’s handwriting, the enigma of a language I don’t speak or write, the disappointment and wondering of what “could have been” when something never arrives, the curiosity about the how someone receives a piece of mail I sent.

I often find myself bound by this desire to overexplain myself to be understood as a queer Chinese artist living and working in the imperial core. In the postcards I sent, I experimented with asking a few questions: What are the colors of your grief? How do wants and desires show up in your dreams? What is a food that brings you nostalgia? What is your relationship to rage, grief, and love? What is a memory you have related to the spring? These questions corresponded to the back images of the postcards, which featured hand painted 16mm film, collectively written poetry, and photos from work by my collective (Chinese Artists and Organizers Collective). Instead of providing explanations, I wanted to plant seeds nourished by tender knowledges resting on the frayed edges, the quiet waiting, the questions that remain unanswered. - huiyin 徽音