Marina Abramovic has truly pioneered performance as a visual art form. Her work - notorious for its feats of endurance, pain and intense physical encounter - has pushed the boundaries of contemporary art and cemented her reputation as one of the most significant artists of the past 50 years. This book brings her complete practice together into one concise and essential volume.

This is an seven-volume collection of primary texts, each selected and introduced by experts, reproducing in facsimile a wealth of materials related to the history of women and warfare in the English-speaking world. The editors are historians and literary scholars with a wealth of publications in women's writing and war literature. The project focuses, for most of its historical range, on England (and Britain); it also includes volumes on the United States, Australia, and Canada. The collection documents women's historical and literary participation in, and commentary on, war. It represents the first attempt to examine the variety of roles women have played in war, and as critics and commentators on war, across all of history into the twentieth century. The project makes a unique and powerful claim about the long history of women's involvement in war in the English-speaking world

The art of the past can seem very far away, obscured both by time and by knotty academic theory. Foregrounding the experience of the contemporary viewer, Look Again shows how this need not be the case. Ossian Ward's simple, ten-step programme acts as an aid to looking, breaking down the often obscure strategies of the Old Masters into intuitive categories - from Art as Honesty to Art as Vision. Look Again's novel approach is influenced by John Berger's Ways of Seeing, but is here updated for the art world of the 21st century. Key to this book is an emphasis on ways of experiencing Old Masters - more than just looking. Just as contemporary art should be judged by how it moves us, cajoles us and envelops us, so too can the great paintings of the world be seen as immersive, captivating, even participatory experiences. Ward does not deny the specific complexities and barriers associated with looking at art from other eras. Instead he offers readers a new formula to help illuminate this kind of art. His method not only provides the viewer with the tools to interpret a work of art, but also assumes that we hold some of this knowledge within ourselves already. In other words, everyone can share the enriching experience of Old Master paintings.

The roots of Hallowe'en lie in the ancient pre-Christian Celtic festival of Samhain, a feast to mark the death of the old year and the birth of the new. It was believed that on this night the veil separating the worlds of the living and the dead grew thin and ruptured, allowing spirits to pass through and walk unseen but not unheard amongst men. The advent of Christianity saw the pagan festival subsumed in All Souls' Day, when across Europe the dead were mourned and venerated. Children and the poor, often masked or in outlandish costume, wandered the night begging 'soul cakes' in exchange for prayers, and fires burned to keep malevolent phantoms at bay. From Europe, the haunted tradition would quickly take root and flourish in the fertile soil of the New World. Feeding hungrily on fresh lore, consuming half-remembered tales of its own shadowy origins and rituals, Hallowe'en was reborn in America. The pumpkin supplanted the carved turnip; costumes grew ever stranger, and celebrants both rural and urban seized gleefully on the festival's intoxicating, lawless spirit. For one wild night, the dead stared into the faces of the living and the living, ghoulishly masked and clad in tattered backwoods baroque, stared back. The photographs in Haunted Air provide an extraordinary glimpse into the traditions of this macabre festival from ages past, and form an important document of photographic history. These are the pictures of the dead: family portraits, mementos of the treasured, now unrecognisable, other. Torn from album pages, sold piecemeal for pennies and scattered, abandoned to melancholy chance and the hands of strangers.