‘The power of containing everything vanished in front of the impossibility of seeing everything at the same time.’ Seeing everything, or rather, seeing the things that others cannot — the poetry in the mundane, the beauty of the arcane — is the gift of some artists. It was one of Ghirri’s great talents, through his own inquisitiveness and a love for the ambiguous.
In 2002, CABE [Commission for Architecture & the Built Environment] published their reportThe Value of Good Design: How Buildings and Spaces Create Economic and Social Value. Beginning with the Vitruvian triad as a sound basis for judging architecture ‘now as when they were conceived’, they offered a further disambiguation of good design: order; clarity of organization; expression and representation; appropriateness of architectural ambition; integrity and honesty; architectural language; conformity and contrast; orientation, prospect and aspect; detailing and materials; structure, environmental services and energy use; flexibility and adaptability; sustainability; rounding it all off with ‘a final point’ that a building is beautiful when ‘the resulting lifting of the spirits will be as valuable [a] contribution to public wellbeing as dealing successfully with the functional requirements of the building’s programme’. The word ‘beauty’ appeared to be making a comeback, but only as an emergent property of the sound delivery of other things.
architect, verb, Reinier de Graaf, (Verso)
Much of the pure aesthetic pleasure of Leigh’s work comes from these unpredictable elements: the swirling colors of her glazes, the way they bubble and crack. But the emotional and intellectual force of the punctum lies elsewhere—in the small but noticeable drip of mossy green glaze hanging off the chin of an untitled bust in the first gallery at LACMA, or in the impress of a fingernail near the base of an ocher bust (also untitled) at CAAM. Details like these suggest something outside a flat binary of visible/invisible or seen/unseen. They suggest, to my mind, a redistribution of subjectivity—character, agency, will, private consciousness—away from the face and toward obscure or secreted regions of the body, where their meaning becomes less obvious but also more potent, no longer constrained or patrolled by a racist logic of surveillance.
Refusing the Eye, Anahid Nersessian on Simone Leigh, (NYRB)
Beauty is not a luxury, rather it is a way of creating possibility in the space of enclosure, a radical act of subsistence, an embrace of our terribleness, a transfiguration of the given. It is a will to adorn, a proclivity for the baroque, and the love of too much. —Saidiya Hartman, Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments (excerpt in New Yorker)
escrevivência concept by Conceição Evaristo–It is a combination of “writing”, “living” and “seeing”, which, in addition to the word game, represents a conception derived from a black epistemology (ancestralidades)
Sounds similar to Landó by Victoria Santa Cruz–During the Afro-Peruvian revival, she re-created one of the most important dances that has lived on as a standard in terms of the genres that have come to embody and represent Peru’s African heritage, the landó. Victoria, according to what she told me, re-created the landó by remembering it with her body. Ancestral memory. (afropop)
I’ve never spoken to anyone about this. Until now, until you.
I slept once in a field beyond the riverbank, a flock of nightjars watching over me.
[…]
I gathered a handful of my coyote’s bones, his teeth, and strung them all on fishing wire— a talisman to ward off anguish. A talisman I hold out to you now.
“I can change through exchanging with others, without losing or diluting my sense of self.” The Archipelago Conversations of Édouard Glissant and Hans Ulrich Obrist.
Native to: Tropical West Africa. The genus Jasminum, of the Oleaceae or olive family, contains over 200 species of vines or shrubs with opposite leaves, many with fragrant flowers, native to the warmer parts of the Old World. Brazilian jasmine was introduced to Florida in the early 1920s via horticulture and has escaped cultivation …
An aggressive, troublesome, difficult-to-control weed; can weed; can climb high into the tree canopy of mature forests, completely forests, completely enshrouding native vegetation and reducing native plant diversity. Has vigorously invaded intact, undisturbed hardwood forests in South Florida. (Plants)
If you have purchased plants from The Huntington, you may have noticed that some of the labels include information other than the plant names and growing instructions. Those additional details might include the person who introduced the plant into cultivation, its geographic origin in the wild, notes about its natural habitat, and the source of The Huntington’s stock plants.
Provenance, or the ownership history of a valued item, is generally associated with works of art. But plant provenance has become increasingly important in the horticultural realm due to the escalation of plant theft from both botanical collections—including, unfortunately, The Huntington’s—and wild habitats. Like works of fine art, certain plants are highly prized and sought-after in a growing black-market economy.
L’imaginaire de mon lieu … [naturally] dans le grand camouflage.
[Suzanne] Césaire in “Le grand camouflage” reads the Caribbean as interconnected space rather than as a series of discrete islands. Blurring both spatial and temporal boundaries, her authorial voice situates itself simultaneously in Haiti, Martinique, and Puerto Rico. “Le grand camouflage” is best characterized in Césaire’s own words as “le grand jeu de cache-cache,” a text that almost playfully weaves between veiling and revealing the geography, history, and social reality of race relations in the Antilles. Césaire deftly juggles the images of lucidity and what Keith Walker, in his introduction to the English translation of her collected works, describes as “the wilful blindness . . . the work it takes not to see.” It is in “Le grand camouflage” that Césaire finally fully takes on the role of the seer, that quality of the poet as voyant that she had until now only admired in others.
Beyond the Great Camouflage: Haiti in Suzanne Césaire’s Politics and Poetics of Liberation Annette K. Joseph-Gabriel, Small Axe July 2016.