Yu Hsia Poetry Collection: Six Kinds Plus One

The Surface Filtered by Language: Six Plus One Collections of Hsia Yu's Poetry

I set out to create a set of books with extremely minimalist, low-key design, containing elusive and hazy material. The packaging mimics a compressed biscuit, with vacuum-sealed shrink wrap holding seven books in one grasp. I was reminded of Joseph Beuys' 1959 work, "A Workspace That Cannot Be Entered"; if you don't want to break the film, it is a "poetry collection that does not need to be read," an installation.

You can read three pirated copies for a hundred dollars, download electronic files riddled with errors, and be content with countless fragmented pieces on Weibo; perhaps you might even reluctantly read the traditional Chinese version.

But if you open it, it becomes a poetry collection that records all your reading traces; it collects fingerprints, the slight dampness of your palm, changes shape with the pressure of your hand, and one day it might fall like a seasonal leaf (hopefully not) (probably not). Soft sculpture.

If you open it, you shouldn't expect it to return to its original state. Seven coarse grain biscuits are priced at 233.333333 (100÷3×7), inspired by pirated merchants: pirate price = anti-pirate price; the original scene allows copies to have their own scene, and the copy scene also makes the original eager to restore its own scene.

50-gram industrial paper, thin yet tough, saddle-stitched, wild yet firm.

Hope you like it. —Hsia Yu