Václav Havel « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Václav Havel’ Category

Entry 1198 — Václav Havel, Concrete Poet

Friday, August 30th, 2013

I got a post from Irving Weiss that sent me here where I found to my surprise some excellent concrete poems by a politician.  Well, no–Havel was an artist.  He was a politician pretty much inadvertently, or so it seems to me, one what don’t know too much about him.

Václav Havel (Czech pronunciation: [ˈvaːt͡slav ˈɦavɛl]; 5 October 1936 – 18 December 2011) was a Czech playwright, essayist, poet, dissident and politician.

Havel was the ninth and last president of Czechoslovakia (1989–1992) and the first presdent of the Czech Republic (1993–2003). He wrote more than 20 plays and numerous non-fiction works, translated internationally.

Here are two of his concrete poems from 1964:

My-Biography

 

Philosophy

An early visiopunctuational poet.  The first such?  Probably not, but I don’t know enough about the history of the variety to know.  Wait–of course not.  My boy E. E. was doing visiopunctuational poetry long before 1964.  I’m not sure who was the first to make a poem of nothing but punctuation marks, though.  Terrific poem, in any case.  It reminds me of Leroy Gorman’s brilliant “Birth of Tragedy.”  That’s on exhibit at my latest Scientific American blog entry.  I’ll probably use Havel’s autobiography above in my next SciAm entry.

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John Byrum « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘John Byrum’ Category

Entry 1381 — Another Peculiar “Sonnet”

Monday, February 24th, 2014

There was a discussion of variations on the sonnet at New-Poetry recently that gave me an excuse to post the following excerpt from my Of Manywhere-at-Once:

ByrumSonnet

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Entry 860 — More Miscellaneants

Thursday, September 13th, 2012

From the same box the other items I’ve been posting were from:

 

 

John M. Bennett sent me the cow; I don’t know who made it; I don’t know who made the piece featuring the four-suit King, or where it came from.  I’m pretty sure the bottom piece is by John Byrum.

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Entry 81 — MATO2, Chapter 1.03

Thursday, January 21st, 2010

Thursday afternoon, 28 June 1990 John Byrum dropped by and we had a nice visit.  He was the first in my new circle of visual poets I met in person.  I told him the story of the printing of my book after showing him my television camera and trying to take a few sequences with it.  I got some footage but just a little that was any good.  I had left the camera on its tripod so I could be in the picture and it didn’t work.  I had everything set up right, I later realized, but zoomed in on John getting out of the car (for the second time) and forgot to unzoom, so had very little space to work with, and I and John weren’t in it much.  John left me some  works of his, and the latest publication of the Generator Press, a fine small book of Stephen-Paul Martin’s stuff.  I gave him an inscribed copy of my book, naturally, and got rid of a few other Runaway Spoon books.  I had now distributed 35 copies of Of Manywhere-at-Once, 5 of them to people who actually paid money for them!  Ten or so more were slated to be given away.

John for some reason reminded me a lot of my nephew Scott.  Similar coloring and kind of face (I think).  John’s not as tall as Scott (he’s around five nine, I guess) but fairly solid of build.  Same kind of slowish but not unintelligent geniality, too.  Probably about the same age as well, or twenty years younger than I.   I enjoyed his visit, and him.  I’m unhappy I’m so poor at character sketches, but I suppose he was at my place too briefly to do anything truly character-revealing.

Entry 620 — Getting Enough Sleep « POETICKS

Entry 620 — Getting Enough Sleep

A little while ago (it is now around 9 P.M., 9 January)  I was feeling good.  I attributed this to my having gotten two naps today, one of an hour, the other of one or two hours.  And I had gotten six hours of sleep last night, which is about as much as I generally get.  I had just about finished backing up my blog entries and was very pleased at how good many of my poems seemed to me when I noticed them during the process.  Unfortunately, I got the dates up my upcoming entries wrong, and in correcting them, lost what I had written for this entry.  That pretty much wiped out my mood.  I can’t stand screwing up like that, but I do it all the time!

 

 

This is a pwoermd I stole from Geof Huth’s blog–because it has become too sophisticated to accept comments from dial-ups like my computer, and I wanted to comment on it.  It’s by Jonathan Jones, lately of Brussels, but a citizen himself of the United Kingdom.  What I like most about it is that it’s lyrical–as too many pwoermds are not.  It wouldn’t be a visual poem for me, but an illustrated poem, except that I subjectively feel “apri’ll” is producing the wonderful colors of spring it is slanted into a portion of (through sheer will-power).  Hence, in my taxonomy it is an infra-verbal visual poem.

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Entry 421 — Lunsberry Installation, Continued « POETICKS

Entry 421 — Lunsberry Installation, Continued

Below is a small portion of a long display case to the right as you enter the college library.  It is filled with books about water, trees and sky, the main subjects Clark’s installation is intended to cause engagents to experience sensations of, as we shall see in my entry tomorrow.  (I hope.)

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When I visited the Installation, I was my usual out-of-it self, so took no notes, and let it all wash into me rather than analyze it, so I can’t remember what the pages mushed into the jar are from–although they may be writings of Cezanne, or about him, including something Clark quotes of his regarding the superiority for the artist of sensation to thinking.  That is the set-up line for this installation and previous ones in the sequence this installation is only the latest work in.

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Entry 1123 — Guest Appearance « POETICKS

Entry 1123 — Guest Appearance

One good thing that happened as a result of my recent foolery with an ellipsis is this from Marton Koppany, which he calls, “Hunch–for Bob”:

HunchForBob

Meanwhile, I revised my ellipsis poem yet again.  I believe I am now done with it:

16June-A-small

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3 Responses to “Entry 1123 — Guest Appearance”

  1. karl kempton says:

    a keeper for certain

  2. Bob Grumman says:

    Thanks, Karl! Whether you meant mine or Marton’s! But I know you meant both, right!?

  3. karl kempton says:

    speaking of yours

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Marton Koppany « POETICKS

Posts Tagged ‘Marton Koppany’

Entry 183 — Another by Marton

Sunday, August 8th, 2010

So I can’t get this entry quickly out of the way and try to get into my next column for Small Press Review, in a couple of weeks (and because I really like it!), here’s Marton Koppany’s “Arrival”:

He, like Geof Huth, is another Klee, and I have higher compliment than that (although I have a few equal compliments, like “another Pollock”).

Entry 182 — “Dash No. 1,” by Koppany

Saturday, August 7th, 2010

This is one of the three pieces Marton Koppany sent me recently.   I’m posting it now (1) to take care of another entry with minimum effort, (2) because I like it a lot, and (3) to allow me to babble a bit more on my favorite topic, What Visual Poetry Is.

As those who know my work as a critic, I contend that a text cannot be a poem unless it has words that are of significant importance to what the text does aesthetically.  This piece contains no words, as most people understand the term.  Nonetheless, I’m prepared to claim it to be a poem.  Clearly, this piece is on what I call the borblur–the borderline between conceptual visimagery and visual poetry.  I call it the later because I believe all punctuation marks (and similar symbols such as those used in chemistry or mathematics) can act as words in certain unusual situations.

Specifically, when a punctuation mark in a work is sufficiently emphasized to make it difficult for someone “reading” the work to treat it as nothing more than a punctuation mark, it will become a word.  That is, it will not be skimmed through with little or no conscious notice–actually, with no vaonscous verbal notice, as with the dash I just used–but pondered consciously, possibly even indentified consciously as what it is, it will become a word.  It will denote as well as, or even perhap instead of, acting purely punctuationally.  In the case of the work above, I claim most people–at least most people familiar with the territory–will read the dash in it (even without the title of the piece), as “dash, short-cut,” then realize sensorily how it is making something rather large disappear, or realize how it works.  A simple but unexpected metaphor visualized.

The pun in English of “dash” as a verb meaning to go in a hurry is a very nice extra, entirely verbal extra.

Note: my only problem with the piece is its title, which I think too overt.  I’d prefer something more like “Punctuation Poem No. 63, or the like.  “Mountain subjected to Punctuation?”  No, but something like that, but more intelligent. . . .

Entry 36 — 2 by Koppany from #672

Monday, December 7th, 2009

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Csend-Sinc

Csend-Sinc

TheAnds

The Ands

Nothing else.  I’m hoping to get going again on columns for Small Press Review. A deadline is approaching and I’d like to get ahead.  It’d be nice, too, to start getting real work done.

Entry 31 — Old Blog Entries 663 through 670

Wednesday, December 2nd, 2009

In #663, I presented my Odysseus Suite–but the reproduction is too crude for me to re-post it here.   My nest entry featured this, by Endwar:

TenByTenAs I announced when I first posted this, I am hoping to publish an antho- logy of mathematical poems, like this one, so if you have one or know of one, send me a copy of it, or tell me about it.

#665 had this by Marton Koppany, which I have to post here because it was dedicated to ME:

Odysseus

Hey, it’s mathematical, too.  The next entry, whose number I fear to state, concerned this:

Bielski-Haiku-BW

This is from Typewriter Poems, an anthology published by Something Else Press and Second Aeon back in 1972. It’s by Alison Bielski, An English woman born in 1925 whose work I’m unfamiliar with. I find this specimen a charmer . . . but am not sure what to make of it. Three lines, as in the classic haiku. The middle one is some sort of filter. Is “n” the “n” in so much mathematics? If so, what’s the poem saying? And where does the night and stars Hard for me not to assume come in? Pure mathematics below, a sort of practical mathematics above? That idea would work better for me if the n’s were in the lower group rather than in the other. Rather reluctantly, I have to conclude the poem is just a texteme design. I hope someone more clever sets me right, though. (I’m pretty sure I’ve seen later visio-textual works using the same filter idea–or whatever the the combination of +’s. =’s and n’s is, but can’t remember any details.)

It was back to my lifelong search for a word meaning “partaker of artwork” in #667–but I now believe “aesthimbiber,” which I thought of in a post earlier than #667, I believe, but dropped, may be the winner of my search.

Next entry topic was about what visual poets might do to capture a bigger audience.  I said nothing worth reposting on a topic going nowhere because visual poets, in general, are downright inimical to doing anything as base as trying to increase their audience.   One suggestion I had was to post canonical poems along with visual poems inspired by them, which I mention because in my next entry, I did just that, posting a Wordsworth sonnet and a visual poem I did based on and quoting part of it–and don’t re-post here because of space limitations.  I wrote about the two in the final entry in this set of ten old blog entries.

Irving Weiss « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Irving Weiss’ Category

Entry 1093 — Thoughts Regarding Minimalism

Saturday, May 4th, 2013

I suppose the minimalist artwork below is not bad, but seeing it in the latest issue of ARTnews depressed me, reminding me that minimalist painters, even mediocre ones like Hanne Darboven seemed from this one example to be, were continuing to make big bucks forty or more years after the birth of minimalism while someone like me is making the most money of his life after fifty years or so of adulthood because of food stamps. . . .

Note from 1 February 2014 when I was reviewing the past year.  Apparently the computer problem mentioned in my next entry screwed up this entry.  The reproduction of the Darboven visimage got deleted and all my further comments.  No doubt they had to do with the following specimens of much better specimens of minimalism I found by bp Nichol (the top one) and Irving Weiss the other two:

WaterPoem5

 

 

WaterIntoWordX

 

WateryWords

 

I’m sure I had fascinating things to say about them.

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Entry 1092 — More Cursive Writing by Irving Weiss

Friday, May 3rd, 2013

I was going to discuss the minimalist works of the previous entry in this one but had so much trouble simply setting the entry up due to my deranged computer and/or my blogsite’s programming, that I couldn’t continue after losing half my commentary, who knows why.  In desperation, I scanned another piece that was in Irving Weiss’s Number Poems (The Runaway Spoon Press, 1997) and managed to post it here:

AMomentAgo

Nifty visiopoetic portrait of a lady, I think.  I haven’t tried super-hard to read the writing but suspect it consists of various scribbled female names–one is Echo.   Wait, at the top are Scylla and Daphne.  I now suspect these are all nymphs or the like who suffered badly at the hands of various gods and goddesses–hence, if full life only a moment.  And en masse here a barely legible flurry representative of all the feminine magic and mystery of the old religions now long-gone.

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Entry 1091 — Waves

Thursday, May 2nd, 2013

I had all kinds of trouble getting the following images into this post, and I’m exhausted, so won’t say much about them until tomorrow.  I will say that I consider the top one an example of what has been wrong with the arts world for the past 40 or more years.

Darboven01x.
WaterPoem5

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WaterIntoWord

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WateryWords

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Entry 940 — Pronouncements & Blither, Part 2

Sunday, December 2nd, 2012

A few days ago, I got an e.mail from Irving Weiss.  He made some nice remarks about my Scientific American blog, then said that neither “read” nor “peruse” satisfied him “for the way one sticks to looking at a work of abstract art or abstract expressionism or, for that matter, any visual poem lacking identifiable content and without a title to help the viewer. I muse: if you look long at a Pollock, Moherwell, de Kooning, what do you do with your looking mind? You have to avoid thinking of what the painting “looks like” on the one hand and going into a mystical mood or trance. It’s like, if you practice any kind of meditation you must try to avoid going to sleep. What kind of “looking at” is it you exercise while standing in front of a work of abstraction?”

Here’s my answer, to take care of this blog entry: “Glad you’re continuing to keep track of my blog, Irving! I agree with you about “pleruser,” but I do believe some such word is needed and so far haven’t come up with a better. Most excellent question you pose. I think I do a lot of different “looking ats” in front of something by Pollock, say.  A kind of averbal analysis but a purely sensual absorption, back and forth, but maybe, if it’s possible, both at once? I hope other kinds of perception are going on, too. Sense of rhythms—associative glimpsing probably mostly unconscious to my own life-experiences but to other painters, other visual images. And I don’t go long without trying to think of words I could use to describe what the painting is doing for me, the writer’s gift or defect. I’m maxixperiencing it! I’m a maxixperient. Or “magniceptor,” “Magnicepting?” “a maxcipient?” My first good word for this was “aesthcipient,” but I gave it up because it was too hard to pronounce. Urp, Urp, and Away, Bob.”

Close to philogushy, but with some substance, I think.

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Entry 895 — “Gloss Twombley”

Thursday, October 18th, 2012

Here’s something from Irving Weiss’s collection, Identities, which is published by Xexoxial Editions (www.xexoxial.org).  I’m posting it here so people following the discussion I’m moderating at ART=TEXT=ART, which so far has been almost entirely about Twombly’s “Untitled” of 1971, can come and see it.

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Entry 856 — Another from Irving’s New Collection

Sunday, September 9th, 2012

This one’s quite a bit different from yesterday’s–to show you the range of the work in Irving Weiss’s new Identities:

 

It seems wonderfully to represent the Jewish/Hebrew/Yiddish/Middle-Eastern experience–to Gentile me.  I recognized “Moishe” as a Jewish name, but looked it up on the Internet to check and found out that, as I should have known, it is also a Hebrew (or Yiddish) Variant of “Moses,” which was Egyptian.  But I’d already interpretted the work to be about the Exodus (“Moses” already being written in it)–and about the whole Jewish experience–the quest for a home, the struggle against . . . near-Hell? but certainly the hostility of the desert.  But also, for me, the glorious triumph over, or out of, oppression both by Nature and by tribal enemies.  The magical (note the amount of astrology in the piece) triumph.  Knowing Irving, though, and having had a lot of Jewish friends throughout my life, and been exposed to a great deal of Jewish comedy–the Marx Brothers to Woody Allen (before he sold out to “seriousness”), I find a kind of irony, even farce in it–from its title, which suggests both an imploration of the Heroic Leader to get the tribe through its perils but also –well, calling a Jewish kid to dinner.  But I also take “Moishe” as a pun for “Mercy!” which would make the piece essentially about a final escape into a promised land not yet attained.

I could go on into a sociological analysis of Jewishness, which I do think I have a good idea of because they don’t seem to me that much different from me, if different at all (one reason I got quite involved in geneology was the hope that I’d find out that at least one of my ancestors was Jewish; the closest were all the Protestants who were the heretics of their time).  No time for that.  I’ll just repeat that this piece seems to me a powerful, far-ranging expression of Judaism.  And a wonderfully moving piece of verbo-visual art whatever it is taken to mean!

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Entry 855 — An Appropriately Titled “Untitled”

Saturday, September 8th, 2012

The following infraverbal masterpiece is the world’s first artwork given the title, “Untitled,” appropriately. It’s just one of the 78 pieces in Identities, a collection of work by Irving Weiss just out from Xexoxial Editions.  It’s something to wonder through many more times than once, with a fantastic skitter through the arts, from low to high, 100% verbal to 100% visual, the comic to the largest ultimates (as well as a combination of both). I hope to say more about it here and elsewhere.

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Etel Enan « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Etel Enan’ Category

Entry 1578 — “Afternoon Poem”

Monday, September 22nd, 2014

Afternoon Poem, 1968 by Etel Adnan:

EtelAdnanAfternoonPoem1968

This is another work from the Spring issue of Bomb–yes, I’m blah, again.  I grabbed the above, which is about the size it is where I got it, because of the colors (which are a bit better, I think, as published in Bomb)–and something else I couldn’t define.  One thought: that it might well be a work that looks nice when not seen close up, but when my scan enlarged it, I found it was even better.  A genuine visual poem of the Kenneth Patchen variety.  Different from but still reminding me of Marilyn R. Rosenberg’s A-1 book art.   Its accordianation is a big plus: text out of colors in&out over white into more color instead of just text from colors across white into other colors.  Perfectly-placed, perfect eye.

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Entry 618 — “Hungarian Vispo No. 2″ « POETICKS

Entry 618 — “Hungarian Vispo No. 2″

Marton Koppany’s latest visual poem may be the gentlest satire on a country’s government ever, if I’m interpreting it correctly. Note the boot on the head of one of the country’s citizens, for instance–and the complete insanity of the country the cloud with an umbrella suggests. Much more is going on that I’ll let you discover without help.

Hungarian Vispo No. 2

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Enter 550 — Marton’s “Cursive” Again « POETICKS

Enter 550 — Marton’s “Cursive” Again

Marton  got back to me about his “cursive” yesterday, giving me enough material for a full entry.

 
He pointed out the direction of the leaves is not consistent.  I had not noticed it.  Which is a good lead-in to one of my much-repeated dogmas: there’s more to every good poem, however seemingly simple, than even a good critic will find on his own.  Marton believes that “the first and the second leaf are connected in a way which is not possible in nature.”  Hence, for him, the poem is displaying “the surmounting (or appeasing) of that impossibility.”  This is a reading in addition tomine, not a counter-reading since it is does not contradict my reading.  (Dogma #2: there is more than one good reading of any good poem-but there is only one main reading–to which all the other readings must conform.  That said, I read the change of the direction of the ellipsis to suggest oneleaf’s rebelliousness.  It doesn’t want to be part of an ellipsis.  Or, in my main reading, it it is eager for winter, and the other two leaves are not?  as for the linkage of the leaves being impossible in Nature, I’m confused: I view their stems as touching.  But is the image of a vine?  These leaves don’t look like a vine’s leaves to me. 
 
They don’t look like autumn leaves, as my main reading of the poem has it, either.  But they are detached leaves, so can’t be summer or spring leaves.
 
Marton also reminded me that he had dedicated the poem to me.  That, he added, “is an important piece of information. :-) ”  I was being modest, but I see that the dedication actually is important, for it connects the poem to my series, “Cursive Mathemaku.”  Thinking about that connection, I thought of something else to mention about the poem–the fact that cursive writing is personal.  The Nature in the poem is not a machine typing out falling leaves but an individual writing a poem with her leaves.
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