SIX

Last night I saw poetry and painting sharing space. An exhibition of late 19th and early 20th Century Chinese calligraphy painters. As I wandered the exhibition two things were the most prevalent to me. One: the simplicity of the works with intense power behind stroke. Two: I was struck: the painting comes with a story, a poem, or a myth. My question is is this illustration or painting? I realize that in many ways chinese script is an art in itself: so much so that it can be considered painting. Yet in the end, what does this work leave an impression as? A painting? A story? A one paged book? Where is the line here, and why do we not often see ideas expressed this way in contemporary art culture? Is it archaic?

we will find ourselves surrounded

by our kind    all of them now

wearing the eyes they had

only imagined possible

and they will reproach us

with those eyes

in a language more actual

than speech

asking why we allowed this

to happen   asking why

for the love of God

we did this to ourselves

and we will answer

in our feeble voices because

because     because

1

when i stand around among poets

i am embarrassed mostly,

their long white heads,

the great bulge in their pants,

their certainties.

i don’t know how to do

what I do in the way

that I do it. It happens

despite me and I pretend

to deserve it.

but I don’t know how to do it.

only sometimes when

something is singing

i listen and so far

i hear.

2

when i stand around

among poets, sometimes

i hear a single music

in us, one note

dancing us through the

singular moving world.

Both poems from the book  ”Quilting: poems, 1987-1990“  by Lucille Clifton

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/17/arts/17clifton.html?ref=books

to Lucille Clifton

you girl of Buffalo

shy of white-headed poets

in their long last line.

can we share your witness

eye? can i stand in your line?

Baby Hausman. A Jewish girl that doesn’t know she can dance, till she does, and she dances because nobody puts baby in the corner. What gumption. Nobody tells baby no and I love that about this movie. She carried a watermelon. There seems to be a debate over Baby and Johnny’s love. Did it go on after the last dance? Should he have been with Penny instead? I think the answer is clear, but I’m not going to tell you. Pick up a library card, there is a book I think you should read. In fact I think you might like it. And also amid all this dancing was Lisa. She had eyebrows that resembled hands being held and she didn’t bring enough shoes. She couldn’t dance or save the world like Baby. She was only meant to decorate it. She got turned on by an Alpha Romeo instead of a castle named Johnny.

Today I led a poetry workshop for a small group of Australian youth. I had picked out a few of my favorite poems, some Yehuda Amichai, Michael and Matthew Dickman and Samuel Menashe. Poetry and songs is not the same thing, I started out confidently. Hold up, said Biff. He was from Sydney and had not wanted to take my poetry workshop. In fact, he informed me it was his 6^th or 7^th choice. I had upset Biff by declaring that songwriters i.e. Bob Dylan, Neil Young are not poets but musicians/songwriters. They may write poetically but their songs are not poems they are songs. Biff told me I was closed minded. After the workshop I went home and while cleaning my house I thought a lot about the forms of artistic expression. And also if Biff was right, am I being closed minded? Recently I read an interview with poet Kevin Young in the magazine failbetter where he eloquently said, that for him to love and admire Dylan’s songs did not have to mean that he thinks of Dylan as a poet. This got me thinking on what is a poet. It does seem that the term or form is given out very loosely. Someone who photographs is not called a painter. Would you call a cellist a pianist or a singer? Then again is a singer considered a musician or an artist or a poet if he or she composes their own music? If everyone is a poet or an artist then does that mean less to be a poet or an artist? I have always innocently thought that poets are people who write poetry.  My sister has always considered herself an artist, now she considers herself a photographer. She considers herself these things before she considers herself a Jew. I consider myself a Jew and a poet. Do I bring poetry to being a Jew or Jewishness to poetry? If we are all humans than can’t we all be poets? And why would a musician/songwriter who is infinitely cooler than a poet want to be a poet? And are we poets a bit guarded with our title?  Because as Biff points out it may be 6^th or 7^th place on most people’s list.

Link to Kevin Young interview http://www.failbetter.com/33/YoungInterview.php?sxnSrc=rcint

Ok so its not actually morning, but I haven’t done anything much for this blog yet, so I’m waking up and hopping into the shower of six. You’re all invited.

I thought I’d attempt to start off some convo by showing a work I did recently. I’ve mostly been working on small compulsive paintings since I generally only have about 30 min to an hour to create perfection. See works.

So I have been experimenting with materials. I find there is much more instant excitement when you can plop objects onto your 2D window of life (aka canvas). And I am applying this use of material freely, without any real thoughts yet. I keep thinking about Keifer a bit, particularly in the Flower Ship Leftovers. I’m mostly playing. I like the plays in space and color, it all feels very intuitive and impulsive, and therefore more true in translation to my momentary position.

As for the Flower ships though, it is what I am most interested in. I want to create mock scenes, landscapes, interiors, and seascapes that contain these strange flower-filled ship-like objects. Somehow for me they are a metaphor for a colorful valiant tragic struggle through some exploration, namely life. They are the heroes of their own story, their own perception. I want to create a world around each ship, and for the ship (or painting of it) to be created in response to the environment I create previously. They then play like humans and I am their creator: they have a soul, but are also a creation and production of their environment.

http://aravareview.com/