AG2022_2110497a

AG2022_2110497a

Serra’s career remains marked by the controversy surrounding Tilted Arc (1981). Since its dismantling by the authorities in 1989 following a lengthy court battle, Tilted Arc has become the defining instance of site specificity, the example given of this category in seminar rooms and art history lectures across the West. But in mentioning this work it is also worth noting its difficulty. Too frequently site specificity is envisaged as artworks made and almost tidily housed in a particular spatial context, akin to how a hand may perfectly fit a tailor-made glove. Tilted Arc was more obdurate and antagonistic than that; it worked to barricade, divide and unsettle an urban space that was ostensibly ‘public’. The trial unintentionally had the consequence of highlighting the intersubjective difficulties site-specific artworks might expose and bear witness to.

Matthew Bowman 28 March 2024 artreview.com

PXL_20240327_183506136 transposes and upends

PXL_20240327_183506136

No by Anne Boyer (2017)

“History is full of people who just didn’t.  They said no thank you, turned away, ran away

[…]

Of all the poems of no, Venezuelan poet Miguel James’s Against the Police, as translated by Guillermo Parra, refuses most elegantly

[…]

It’s stealthy, portable, and unslouching. It presides over the logic of my art, and even when it is uttered erringly there is something admirable in its articulation. But even the greatest refusialists of the poets might be a somewhat ironic deployers of that refusal, for what is refused often amplifies what is not. The no of a poet is so often a yes in the carapace of noThe no of a poet is sometimes but rarely a no to a poem itself, but more usually a no to all dismal aggregations and landscapes outside of the poem.  It’s a no to chemical banalities and wars, a no to employment and legalisms, a no to the wretched arrangements of history and the tattered and Bannon-laminated earth.

[…]

Transpositions and upendings refuse and then reorder the world.

[…]

There is a lot of meaning-space inside a “no” spoken in the tremendous logic of a refused order of the world. Poetry’s no can protect a potential yes—or more precisely, poetry’s no is the one that can protect the hell yeah, or every hell yeah’s multiple variations. In this way, a poem against the police is also and always a guardian of love for the world.

AG2024_1100047a

AG2024_1100047a

Onomatopoeia: Animal Sounds

baagoat / sheep
buzzinsects like bees, mosquitoes, or flies
chirpbird
chirpcrickets
cluckchicken
cock-a-doodle-doorooster
gobbleturkey
hisssnake
hootowl
meowcat
moocow
neighhorse’s sound
oinkpig
quackduck
ribbitfrog
roarlion
woof / bow-wowa sound of a dog’s bark

All that is submerged, encased

I have known only my own shallows—
Safe, plumbed places,
Where I was wont to preen myself.

But for the abyss
I wanted a plank beneath
And horizons…

I was afraid of the silence
And the slipping toe-hold…

Oh, could I now dive
Into the unexplored deeps of me—
Delve and bring up and give
All that is submerged, encased, unfolded,
That is yet the best
.

Submerged, Lola Ridge


my quest, to know myself. 
To chart and compass this unfathomed sea, 
Myself must plumb the boundless universe.

Quest, Carrie Williams Clifford


Eden in Post

AG2022_2040228a or the void does not beckon as it used to

AG2022_2040228a

Sustained by poetry, fed anew
by its fires
to return from madness,
the void does not beckon as it used to.

Littered with syllables, the road does not loom
as a chasm. The hand of strangers on other
doors does not hurt, the breath of gods

does not desert, but looms large
as a dream, a prairie within our dream,
to which we return, when we need to.

Oh blessed plain, oh pointed chasm.

II Alone, John Wieners