Haiti Inter, 033124.
Category: landscape
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Cecilia Vicuña, What Is Poetry to You? 1980 or 1990(?)(22:30). 23 minutes. Courtesy of Electronic Arts Intermix (EAI), New York. via e-flux
The fullness of the earth
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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

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 no. The 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.
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And the lost lore of mournful lands
It knows alone and guards too well.
The Giant Cactus of Arizona, Harriet Monroe
AG2024_1088541a or somewhere else

“… gone somewhere else, beyond the frame, which is a place that we, viewing this image, cannot know, but guess, …”
The Grain, Chad Bennett

