Hanne Darboven « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Hanne Darboven’ 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 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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March « 2010 « POETICKS

Archive for March, 2010

Entry 122 — Line 12, Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18

Monday, March 29th, 2010

My first  question about line 12 is whether we should take “to time” to go with “eternal lines” or with “thou grow’st.”  That is, is it “eternal lines to time” or “thou grow’st to time.”  the first comes closer to making sense to me but doesn’t make it well enough.  Vendler is somewhat interesting about about this sonnet, by the way, but does not offer a close reading of it, and says nothing about line 12.

When I asked about the line at the poetry discussion group, New-Poetry, I got some good responses as to the gist of the line but they weren’t as specific as I wanted.  For instance, what I really wanted to know was what “to” and “grow’st.” mean.  I’m sure “lines” must mean lines of poetry, with hints of lineage and maybe lines in faces.  And the line is saying the addressee has been immortalized by poetry.  But how can the lines be “to” time?  A poem to X usually is taken as a poem addressed to X and this one is addressed to a person, “thee.”  I can see “grow’st” as (sort of) having to do with increasing in stature.  Also as actually growing due to the summer
in the addressee’s day although that seems awkward to me.

Brian Hawkins suggested a reading of “time” as “effectively meaning eternity, i.e. you’ll keep growing till eternity)” and thus to be taken as part of “to time thous grow’st” rather than “eternal lines to time.”  Robin Hamilton went with this, in part because the he found a strong metrical pause after “lines,” which I can’t say I do.

Later Brian added  his thought that ”to’ means ‘into’, ‘grow’st’ means ‘continues growing’ (not necessarily getting bigger, but growing, as things do in summer), and time means, rather than eternity as I said earlier, more simply ‘the future.’  So that ‘to time thou grow’st’ means, more or less, ‘you keep growing into the future.’ ”

Robin then, having consulted Abbott, A Shakespearean Grammar (1870), http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/cgi-bin/ptext?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.03.0080;layout=;loc=1;query=toc), interestingly suggested that “to” might mean “against,” which would allow the lines to be “against” time, or a means of defeating time; or the addressee could be thought to be growing or flourishing against (or despite) time.

Robin also gave this from the OED in support of his view:

25. Expressing impact (cf. 1, 5a) or attack: At, against, upon.

Janet Blankfield, going with this, wondered if (battle) ‘lines’ could be something to do with a military response to ‘the enemy’, time.  I like this but find it a stretch.

I’m not fully convinced that “to” can be thought to mean “against,” but would be pleased if it did, for it would settle the problem of what the line precisely means quite well.  In the usage examples in the OED like “If eny man have a quarrel to a nother” “to” could, it seems to me, readily be taken as simply indicating the object of, in this case, a quarrel–the same way “quarrel with another” would (and few, I think, would take “with” ever to mean “against.”  Today.  Maybe then.

So I remain uncertain about the line.  Booth has “line 12, where the beloved, bound to time the destroyer, grows to–fuses with–time, as a grafted scion grows to–and thus along with–a tree.  I find this forced.  I think a metaphor like that either needs to be clearer or fore-shadowed, or shown in some way by the context that it plausibly could be there.

I also thought (or read someone else who suggested) the addressee could be growing to time as to full size–that is, the addressee is becoming time.  But that makes no sense, to me.

According to Robin, Kerrigan (Penguin) and Duncan-Jones (Oxford) both agree that the primary meaning of “lines” is ‘lines of poetry’, with a possible secondary meaning of ‘lineage’.  There are also the lines that Time draws on the human face (in 19: 10, “draw no lines there,” which Duncan-Jones notes).

“Overall,” Robin surmises, “the line would seem to mean (Death shall not brag) ‘when you grow older’ (so long as men breath and see).”  But there’d be no reason for Death to brag he’s captured the addressee while the addressee were still alive.  The context seems to require the line to say that the addressee will still be alive and beautiful after he dies, so (to confuse everyting all the more) “When in eternal lines to time” might be some kind of expression for “when you have left life for eternity.”

Someone (Robin?) made the point that “the line reads succinctly & clearly without ‘to time’ and that should tell us something.  It may be cop out to say so, but?maybe the ‘to time’ operates as a quick bridge built by the Bard to fill out the meter.”  I like that.

My final comment was that I leaned toward “thou growest to time” and hope it was a standard phrase of the time that meant something like take a place in a culture’s permanent memory or the like.

Entry 121 — Definition of Scientific Account

Thursday, March 18th, 2010

Many of my thoughts and hypotheses keep getting hammered for being unscientific, including my poetics (which I consider definitely scientific, which is why so many poets hate it).  So, here once again, although newly formed, is my definition of what a scientific account of some aspect of reality is:

An account of some aspect of reality is scientific if it satisfies the following four criteria:

1. It contradicts no law of nature held by the consensus of intelligent, informed observers.

2. Data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to support it.

3. No data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to refute it.

4. It is falsifiable.

Note: satisfying the four criteria only makes an account scientific; it doesn’t necessarily make it valid or of any importance.  Moreover, it will always be temporary since new data can always show up.

Because many highly regarded accounts of aspects of nature do not satisfy my four criteria but are accepted by a great deal of experts in the fields they are concerned with, such as physics’s big bang theory, which some facts contradict (the ones requiring the further hypothesis of the existence of unobserved “dark matter”) and which breaks certain laws of nature (the ones requiring such certain laws of nature to be different when the big bang occurred),  I also have a definition of what I call “Near-Scientific Accounts.”

An account of some aspect of reality is near-scientific if it satisfies the following four criteria:

1. If it contradicts a law of nature held by the consensus of intelligent, informed observers, the same consensus agrees that some end-around (like dark matter) is plausible.

2. Data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to support it.

3. If some data accepted as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to refute it, experts agree that some end-around is plausible.

4. It is falsifiable.

An account of some aspect of reality that is neither scientific nor near-scientific is unscientific.

Okay, in a few hours I should be an a Greyhound bus on my way to South Carolina.  I hope to post at least once from there.  If not, expect a new entry around April Fools’ Day.

Entry 120 — Responding to Narratives of Misery

Wednesday, March 17th, 2010

Topic: why some people like narratives about miserable people.   A variation on why people like tragedy–as, on the surface, they should not, if my claim that the object of art is to give pleasure is true.

1. The standard answer: one experiencing the narrative experiences the beauty of the ugly material’s aesthetic expression.  The artist provides a taming order to horror, and pleasurable details, for instance, as with Macbeth’s famous “sound and fury.”

2. A simple psychological answer: it results in an “Ah, I’m not alone!” for someone empathetic who is exposed to it.

3. Another obvious one: it produces in the person experiencing it the kind of happiness one gets from looking through a window of a snug, secure house at a blizzard.

Entry 119 — Defining Visual Poetry Again

Tuesday, March 16th, 2010

In a month or so, John Bennett’s and my selection for a gallery of visual poems in The Pedestal should be appearing.  John and I each will be providing a preface for it, as I understand it.  In any case, I started thinking about mine last night.  Once again I returned to my obsession with defining “visual poetry.”  This time, though, I wasn’t concerned with my main definitional obsession, the requirement of visual poetry to contain words, but with a lesser obsession, the requirement that a visual poem be more than an illustrated poem, or poetically captioned illustration–because of an excellent submission I got consisting of several arresting visual images, each with a haiku running across its bottom.

Dogma#1: a visual poem must consist of a significant graphic element significantly interacting with a significant verbal element.  Dogma #2: a reader of the poem must experience the poem’s graphic and verbal elements simultaneously.  There will come a day when neurophysiologists will be able to detect this simultaneous experience.  Thereupon we will have an objective way of determining whether a not a given work is a visual poem–for a given person.

This simultaneous experience seems to me the whole point of visual poetry, difficult though it be to provide it.   My “Nocturne” demonstrates how it is done, so that’s the poem I’ll be using as my “Editor’s Poem” for the gallery.  It’s based on the simple idea of dotting all the letters in “night” to suggest stars, then doing the same with “voice” to indicate a voice with stars in it.  Very sentimental, but a favorite of mine.  For some reason, though, I can’t find it in my computer files, so apparently have not yet saved it digitally.

Entry 118 — Geof Huth’s Collected Pwoermds

Monday, March 15th, 2010

I haven’t started my trip yet. My body conked out before I could–some kind of virus, I guess. So I’m still at home. Should be leaving in a couple of days.

I was feeling too lousy to post anything here for two or three days, and wouldn’t today, either, although I feel a lot better.   However, today I got a copy of Geof Huth’s NTST, the subtitle of which is the collected pwoermds of geof huth. It’s perfect for a blog entry because I can quote whole poems from it quickly, and because I found some pwoermds I can be quickly insightful about.   So, here’s one page:

an/atomy

shadowl

rayns

watearth

upond

psilence

These pwoerds are absolutely representative of the many (hundreds?) pwoermds in the collection, which I mention in case anyone suspects I chose them to show him at his very best.  Two thoughts: that he misspelled “psylence,” and that “shadowl” is such an especially good pwoermd that it ought to be on a page by iself.  The selections on this page are intended, I’m sure, to be stand-alones, but they also look like and work as a five-line poem.   That I find “sahdowl” better clearly by itself is ironic, for I’ve several times opined that while pwoermds could occasionally be terrific, they work best as part of longer poems.

Oddly, I find evidence for this (in my opinion) on the very next page of NTST:

Pebbleslight


stilllllife


I like it much better as “pebbleslight stilllllife.”  Of course, with the title (and Geof defines pwoermds as one-word poems without a title), one still reads pebbles into the still life.  I just like the linkage closer.  I’d like a detail or two more, too–really, I’d like a full-scale haiku using “pebbleslight stilllllife.”  Which is absolutely not to say I don’t extremely like the piece exactly as Geof has it.

Oh, NTST was published in England by if p then q (apparently not an offshoot of Geof’s dbqp press).  Its website is at www.ifpthenq.co.uk.

Entry 117 — Another Vacation

Thursday, March 11th, 2010

I don’t know how long this one will last–I need to go out of state to help out with one of my brothers, who is sick (as is his wife).  Will be very busy–and probably not have access to a computer.

Entry 116 — Finally Back

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

All I have today is a revision of my last mathemaku:

The title of the piece is “Mathemaku in Honor of Andrea Bianco’s 1436 Map of the World.”  I changed the previous quotient from “music” to a picture of a lute.  My reasoning was that “music” was too general; I wanted something that said “medieval.”  I’m satisfied with it now.

I’m a bit shocked to see how long it’s been since my last entry here.  I thought it’d only been four or five days.  I’m going to try to post more often now, maybe not daily but at least three or four times a week.  The past three days I’ve woken up feeling good.  I’ve been more productive though not as productive as I’d like to be.  Still, I’m out of the null zone I was in.

Part of the reason for that is that my bad leg (due apparently to sciatica) is better, although I still can’t run on it to any extent.  I’m optimistic that it will fully come around if I give it time and don’t play tennis again till I’m sure it’s okay.  Three times I played when it seemed okay but not right, and each time suffered during the next few days.

The pain pills I’m taking for the problem are probably (alas) the main reason I’m feeling so good psychologically.  Also contributing it the fact that I’m winning the game of Civilization I’m playing in!  I’ve never won it at the level I’m now playing it at.  This shouldn’t mean anything but it means a ridiculously lot!  Winning just about any kind of competition really zings me!

That’s it for now.  Hope to be back tomorrow.  Will definitely be back before the week ends.

praecisio « POETICKS

Posts Tagged ‘praecisio’

Entry 8 — Thoughts on Haiku

Monday, November 9th, 2009

A new Grummanism today, “constersense,” to go with an old one, “nonsense,” and one in between old and new, “nearsense.”

One item always worth taking a look at in the Haiku Canada Review is the page on which N. F. Noyes discusses haiku he likes.  One of them got me thinking about nonsense

.              the car I didn’t notice                              isn’t there

It’s by someone calling himself G. A. Huth.  About this Noyes says, “From a fourteenth century poet I quote: ‘Generally speaking, a poet requires some understanding of emptiness.’”

(An amusing comment to make in a discussion of the World-Expert in the praecisio.  See Geof’s blog for details on that if–shame on you–you don’t know what it is.)

Noyes goes on to say, “Here the sudden emptiness provides a strong “Aha!” experience, despite a seeming diregard for the haiku’s chief guideline of close observation, in ‘I didn’t notice.’”

(But I would contend that what the poet closely observed with his act of not noticing.)

Noyes was reminded of a haiku by Buson:

.                            Tilling the field:
.                       The cloud that never moved
.                            Is gone.

The other two haiku Noyes liked (as did I) are:

.                            a kicked can
.                            cartwheels
.                            into its echo                  –Jeffrey Winke

.                            transplanting
.                            four rose bushes
.                            transplanting bees       –Liz fenn


More on nonsense and related matters tomorrow, if I’m up to it.  (Final note: I at first mistyped Geof’ haiku as “the care I didn’t notice       isn’t there.”)

Entry 372 — Mathemaku Still in Progress « POETICKS

Entry 372 — Mathemaku Still in Progress

If I ever come to be seen worth wide critical attention as a poet, I should be easy to write about, locked into so few flourishes as I am, such as “the the” and–now in this piece, Basho’s “old pond.”  I was wondering whether I should go with “the bookshop’s mood or “a bookshop’s mood” when Basho struck.  I love it!

Just one word and a trivial re-arrangement of words, but I consider it major.  (At times like this I truly truly don’t care that how much less the world’s opinion of my work is than mine.)

We must add another allusion to my technalysis of this poem, describing it as solidifying the poem’s unifying principal (and archetypality), Basho’s “old pond” being, for one thing, a juxtaphor for eternity.  Strengthening its haiku-tone, as well.  But mainly (I hope) making the mood presented (and the mood built) a pond.  Water, quietude, sounds of nature . . .

Oh, “old” gives the poem another euphony/assonance, too.

It also now has a bit of ornamental pond-color.  Although the letters of the sub-dividend product are a much lighter gray on my other computer than they are on this one, the one I use to view my blog.

2 Responses to “Entry 372 — Mathemaku Still in Progress”

  1. Kevin Kelly says:

    I really like this one; it strikes me as very E.E. Cummings-inspired, and I love that guy. I think the use of gray is a good idea because it gives the “remainder” more punch at the end. I’m a bit confused on reading your description in which you keep talking about Basho’s pond, which I don’t see in evidence here … I’m thinking if I had seen an earlier version of this, or I was better versed in the Grummanverse, I would understand that. And finally, you won’t have to struggle between “the” or “a” bookshop’s mood soon, where there’s just one bookshop left. Just had to end that with a little (sad) humor!

  2. Bob Grumman says:

    Oh, boy, I get to explain! Nothing I love more. Basho comes in because of his famousest poem, which I’ve made versions of and written about a lot, the one that has the “old pond” a frog splashes into. My poem has an “old bookshop” that has a mood with depths a street enters like (I think) the pond’s water with depths the frog enters. But now that you bring it up, I guess the allusion is pretty hermetic.

    Glad you like it. I still do now that I’m looking at it again–although it strikes me as pretty weird.

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Entry 544 — Thoughts on “Skips” « POETICKS

Entry 544 — Thoughts on “Skips”

Today (25 October) I feel in the mood to knock out a few preliminary thoughts about Gregory Vincent St. Thomasino’s “Skips.”  Eventually I’ll try to work in some of his terms.  Right now, I’ll just go with first thoughts–well first attempts at analysis after having read the poem several times.  I’ll re-post the poem, with my comments interrupting it.

               Skips

               one bus,
               said of certain places

Here’s the first skip: “one bus” will not strike many readers as being something likely to be “said of certain places.” But it can make sense for places isolated so having only one bus in and out each day (or week?). In any case, an image of a bus stop entered my mind.

               which may, at sites, be
               or, for such as certain sites

26 October: At this point we can be sure we’re in what I call a syntax poem, which is a kind of language poem (in my poetics).   A syntax poem, to put it simply, a poem whose syntax is goofy.  Gregory, I’m sure, has a different name for it. “Logoclastic poem,” I think may be it. A terrific word (like so many of my neologies are, but suffering, like them, from being too idiosyncratic). Gregory would also consider his poem “cubistic,” which it can’t be, for what an artwork becomes cubistic mainly by showing a scene from two or more angles simultaneously, which words can’t do.  Gregory is probably presenting his scene like Stein presented many of hers, with fractional objective and subjective (often, to my taste, too subjective) descriptions repeated many times in varied form.   A kind of Jamesian hesitancy to be direct.  When effective–as here, I believe–it can make a commonplace scene take on enough obscurity to allow the reader the eventual joy of solving it.  Or coming close enough to doing that.

               a, saying, or, for standing
               a, may be holding places

I still feel like I’m at a bus stop, or maybe even in a bus station.  But, helped by later sections I’ve now read more than once, I find the poem discussing language, too.  One reason for that is that so many of these kinds of poems do just that.  But “saying” is what language does, as well as a word (or close to a word) for “so to speak.”  Using words or phrases in this double way is, of course, a primary activity of poets, but language poets tend to be more interested in doing it than other poets–enough to warp their poems’ syntax to help them do it.

At this juncture I’m taking a break until tomorrow.   Hey, I could say more, but I think I’ve given you students enough to think about for this session!  (Note: I can’t resist putting in another plug for the value of close readings–I find it as much fun to discover something in someone else’s poem, which I feel I’ve done here [for myself, at any rate], as it is suddenly to discover something I can use in a poem of my own that I’m working on.  I really feel sorry for those who can’t appreciate close readings.)

               and doubtless other combinations
               one bus.

               and if it is but agreeable
               a hand or glove or calendar

               as, he was
               but not in certain places

               which, when sounding
               just above, and, sounding just above

               are gone, or, for some time
               by rote or involuntary action

               between highest and lowest
               is present, and absent, is gone and when

               that aspect, to be events
               alike, in which they are alike

               between highest and lowest
               the features

               perceived or thought about
               seem suddenly, to fit

               also spelled insight or solution
               the use of, or, as means his present station

               and doubtless other combinations
               which are themselves

               his means
               the skin, the hair, the coat

               are fairly, then, it matches, either of the two
               in which, unfit variations

               are discarded
               are held at mutual right angles, say

               as when a new hat
               or sometimes used as synonyms

               is part
               or,

               as a rule, a new hat
               is considered of involuntary action

               or,
               in respect to suspended judgment

               in which, a measure of degree
               they are, so alike

               being highest, possible highest
               the skin, the hair, the coat

               an irrepressible action
               or

               due to lips
               and doubtless other combinations

               attained by involuntary action
               as when a new hat is considered part

               of one’s coat
               or rival, or station

.

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Entry 543 — Another Back&Forth About What Poetry Is « POETICKS

Entry 543 — Another Back&Forth About What Poetry Is

I got embroiled in another discussion of what poetry is at New-Poetry yesterday.  It started off being a discussion just about all agree was a silly statement at some website by Gabriel Gudding.  He wants to abolish it–for fascism.  I finally decided he was merely against the metrical line, which some people, who knows why, consider literature’s only real line.  We eventually oozed into the subject of prose poetry.  I repeated a lot of my standard unarguable but boring arguments.  As usual, someone put in for poetry as undefinable, others for the difference between verse (bad, therefore not poetry) and poetry.  My final post to what had become three or more threads (after someone had argued that it was ridiculous to require a poem to consist of lines) was this: 

Why?  What’s wrong with defining poetry objectively as having lines, prose, including “prose poems,” as not having lines?  If a prose poem is a poem, what isn’t?
 
(Actually, my own definition of poetry is slightly more complex than “having lines” because of things in some poems like internal li    ne breaks, so I define poetry as language having flow-breaks—as I said many years ago here.)

.

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Sound Poetry « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Sound Poetry’ Category

Entry 1291 — AT Art, Part 2

Friday, December 6th, 2013

ForEmileBerlinerText

Note: a “lavalier” is a kind of microphone, something I had to look up on the Internet so out of it I am in this territory.  But I didn’t feel I had the trouble with “Sound Poem for Emile Berliner” that I thought I would when I listened to it for the first time this morning.

Here’s what I just wrote to Mark about his piece:

Yikes, Mark, I’m sure how to break it to you, but . . . I liked your Berliner piece and felt COMFORTABLE with it the very first time I heard it! Before I knew it, I was listening to and enjoying your second piece. I’ll be trying to figure out what happened over the next few days. I think maybe just exposure to things like language poetry, conceptual poetry, even popular movies sometime use of dramatically-expressive noise effects, and an increased ability to be tolerant of new kinds of art due to a fair amount of contact with it as critic and maker, and possibly the thought I’ve given to what music is–for instance, in trying in some of my visual poems to make graphic metaphors of it–have set me up to be able to appreciate what you’re doing–assuming I really am! More in due course, but who knows when, considering how erratically I function.

Oh, you should know I listened to it a second time, and found more things in it to like. So I expect it to be continuingly interesting, and look forward to where your sequence of pieces will go! By the way, if I were to characterize the piece as a kind of found art, how would you react? It really isn’t, although inventive art is always “found art” in the sense that a finished piece is a specimen of art you’ve found in the result, or maybe found the result to be. Especially the way recording feedback from a microphone will give your a field to find things in that recording chords played on a piano won’t.

(I bet I couldda made lots of money as a PR man if I’d been able sincerely to like crap the way I like Mark’s work.  I’m so perhaps overboard because I really feel like I have tripped into what is a major new field for me.  Oh, because I don’t know how to include audio in my entries, and actually would prefer not to, so those interested in Mark’s work would buy a set from whomever is selling it, and because I will have the challenge of describing something very hard to convey, I should tell you–roughly now, but better tomorrow, I hope, that it begins with sandpaper-scratching sounds but soon includes random musical tones, single and chordal, sort of falsetto-sounding to me, but not human, and–for me–feels like it’s going somewhere.)

More on this piece tomorrow.

One last note: I’m part megalomaniac but also very much amazingly humble in spite of my superiority to everyone else, including you louts, so I want say that the principal joy of being a critic for me is my feeling of being on someone else’s sailboat, plunging into wondrous new climes.  Yow!  And a Large Thank You to the many of you whose boats have done this for me.

 .

Entry 1290 — AudioTextual Art, Part 1

Thursday, December 5th, 2013

One of my many problems as a would-be culturateur is biting off more than I can chew. Today, for instance, I needed something for this entry. My laziness struck first, telling me to just use the graphic immediately below:

ForEmileBerliner

It’s from Mark Sutherand’s Sonotexts, a 2-DVD set he recently sent me–with a copy of Julian Cowley’s user’s guide to sound poetry from Wire.  As soon as I saw what Mark had sent me, I went into one of my yowie-fits, perceiving it, as I wrote Mark, as a sort of class in sound poetry, something I’d been wanting to come to terms with for years.  I had visions of taking a fifteen-minute class in the subject based on Mark’s package–something I’ve followed through on for four or five days now, except my requirement isn’t fifteen minutes daily of immersion, just a significant immersion that might last only a few minutes–like the amount of time it took me to read the text and above and study the graphics.

I had a second yowie-fit concerning my use of the above here, which I suddenly saw as the first step in a Great Adventure, Bob Grumman’s Quest to Assimilate Audio-Texual Art.  (Not “sound poetry” because I had already realized my subject would cover more than sound poetry.)   I would write a book here, one Major Thought per daily entry that would not just describe my attempt to learn about sound poetry and advance the World’s understanding of  the whole range of audio-textual art, but expose the World to my theory of aesthetics–down to its Knowlecular foundation.  All while working on three or four other not insignificant projects daily.  But I was not wholly unrealistic: my aim was “merely” a good rough draft, not a perfect final draft.

Well, maybe I’ll keep going for more than a few days.  Perhaps I’ll even write something of value.  For .  .  . ?   One of the reasons I probably won’t get far is my belief, strengthening daily–if not hourly–that there are not more than a dozen people in the world able to follow me at this time, nor will there ever be, so I’ll be wasting my time.   Yes, I do recognize that the reason for this may not be how advanced my thoughts are but how badly expressed and/or obtuse they are.   No matter, I myself will enjoy writing about my adventure, and having it to write about may be enough to keep me in it until I’ve actually accomplished my main aim, an understanding of audio-textual at that makes sense to me.

Ergo, here’s lesson one, which an enlargement of the text above from the booklet that comes with Mark’s set will facilitate: ForEmileBerlinerText

Its words, of course, are Mark’s.

Student Assignment: two words or more concerning “Sound Poem for Emile Berliner”–prior to listening to it.   Not much to say except for taxonomical remarks unsurprising to anyone who knows me.  First off, since there can be nothing in the composition anyone will be able to recognize as verbal, as far as I can now see, I would term it “linguiconceptual music,” “linguiconceptual” being my term for asemic textual matter in an artwork that conceptuphorically (or provides a concept that metaphorically) adds appreciably to the work’s aesthetic effect.  I will say more about this after hearing the composition.  Right now I don’t see how its textual content can be evident without a listener’s simply being told that it is there.Unless the tracing is exhibited as the composition is being played, as it seems to me it ought to be, and maybe is!  The tracing IS a visual poem, albeit a simple one that serves the work as a whole as its caption.

No, it’s more than that–the textual music is metaphorically its voice, which makes it an integral part of the composition that is secondarily a caption for it.

So much for lesson 1.  (I think I passed.)

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Gerard Manley Hopkins « POETICKS

Archive for the ‘Gerard Manley Hopkins’ Category

Entry 1314 — Just-Spring

Sunday, December 29th, 2013

It crossed my mind earlier today that a flair for the use of fresh language might be the most important attribute of a superior poet.  Certainly E. E. Cummings had it, which is why he rates so high with me.  In particular, I think the invention of new words or phrases, or the use of a word in a way it was  never before used, like Cummings’s melding of “just” and “spring” in his famous poem about the balloonman, is about the most important thing a superior poet can do.  Hopkins and Dylan Thomas are two others I quickly think of who did this.  If I were fading out, I’d try to find examples, and mention more poets of fresh language.  I might even come up with a Grummaniacal name for them.

For now, I just say that one way of recognizing mediocrity in a poet is his total conventionality of word-choice and use.  You can recognize the subj-mediocrity by his used of dead poeticisms.

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Entry 735 — Another Long Division Poem Finished

Friday, May 11th, 2012

It’s my “Tribute to the Arts & Humanities.”  For a while I had great expectations for it; I especially liked the way my quotient came out.  But I am not too satisfied with the lettering of either my dividend or the text uder it.  They seem to me barely adequate, if that.  If there were a good cheap graphic designer in Port Charlotte, I’d hire him to improve them.  It’s not a bad poem, though–and straight-forward: the only help an engagent may need is knowing that “counter, original, spare, strange” is from Gerard Manley Hopkins–so I’m hoping it can pick up a few fans from among the sub-congnoscenti.  Make that, “pre-cogniscenti.”

(Apologies: once again I posted this as “private,” having forgotten to tag it “public.”  I generally keep my entries “private” so no one can see them but I until I’m satisfied with them, at which time I hit a button that makes them “public.”  Ridiculously often I forget to do this, as was the case this time.  No big deal, just one more reminder to me, as if I need it, that I’m a moron.)

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Entry 360 — Thoughts about Definitions « POETICKS

Entry 360 — Thoughts about Definitions

Mathematical Poetry is poetry in which a mathematical operation performed on non-mathematical terms contributes significantly to the poem’s aesthetic effect.

Mathematics Poetry is poetry about mathematics.

Neither is a form of visual poetry unless a portion of it is significantly (and directly) visio-aesthetic.

The taxonomic rationale for this is that it allows poetry to be divided into linguexclusive and pluraesthetic poetry–two kinds based on something very clear, whether or not they make aesthetically significant use of more than one expressive modality, with the second category dividing cleanly into poetries whose definition is based on what extra expressive modality they employ–visual poetry, for example, employing visimagery; mathematical poetry employing mathematics; and so forth.

Directly.  I mentioned that because there are some who would claim that a linguexclusive poem about a tree so compellingly written as to make almost anyone reading it visualize the tree is a “visual poem.”  But it sends one to one’s visual brain indirectly.  A genuine visual poem about a tree, by my definition, would use a visual arrangement of letters to suggest a tree, or graphics or the like directly to send one to one’s visual brain.

A confession.  I’ve been using the pwoermd, “cropse,” as an example of a linguexlusive poem that muse be seen to be appreciated, but is not a visual poem.  Yet it is almost a visual poem, for it visually enacts the combination of “corpse” and “crops” that carries out it aesthetic purpose.  To call it a visual poem, however, would ignore its much more potent conceptual effect.  I claim that it would be experienced primarily in one’s purely verbal brain, and very likely not at all in one’s visual brain.  One understands its poetry as a conception not as a visimage.  When I engage it, I, at any rate, do not picture a corpse and crops, I wonder into the idea of the eternal life/death that Nature, that existence, is.  It is too much more conceptual than visual to be called a visual poem.

I had a related problem with classifying cryptographic poetry.  At first, I found it clearly a form of infraverbal poetry–poetry depending for its aesthetic effect of what its infraverbal elements, its textemes, do, not on what its words and combinations of words do.   It was thus linguexclusive.  But I later suddenly saw cryptography as a significant distinct modality of expression, which would make cryptographic poetry a kind of pluraesthetic poetry.  Currently, I opt for its being linguexclusive, for being more verbo-conceptual than multiply-expressed.  A subjective choice.  Taxonomy is difficult.

For completeness’s sake, a comment now that I made in response to some comments made to an entry at Kaz’s blog about my taxonomy: “Visual poetry and conventional poetry are visual but only visual poetry is visioaesthetic. The point of calling it ‘visual’ is to emphasize the importance of something visual in it. In my opinion, the shapes of conventional poems, calligraphy, and the like are not important enough to make those poems ‘visual.’ Moreover, to use the term ‘visual poem’ for every kind of poem (and many non-poems) would leave a need for a new term for poems that use graphics to their fullest. It would also make the term of almost no communicative value. By Geof’s logic we would have to consider a waterfall a visual poem because of its ‘poetry.’ Why not simply reduce our language to the word, ‘it?’”

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Entry 477– Re-Defining, Again! « POETICKS

Entry 477– Re-Defining, Again!

 

Yeah, for almost forty years now I’ve been defining and re-defining visual poetry, often returning to old definitions.  Believe it or not, I’m trying to come up with one others will accept–without letting it go as “undefinable,” or–worse–infinitely-definable.  I think I may
have it now–but I always think that when I advance a new definition.  This one is only slightly new.  What’s new is the sub-categories I split it into.  Okay, here goes:

Visual Poetry is an artwork containing a verbal and a graphic constituent in which part or the whole of the semantic meaning of the verbal constituent and part or the whole of the representa-tional meaning of the graphic constituent each makes a centrally significant contribution to the core aesthetic effect of the work.

It comes in two varieties: visiophorical and visiocollagic poetry.  Visiophorical Poetry is Visual Poetry part or the whole of whose graphic constituent acts as a metaphor for part or the whole of what its verbal constituent denotes that makes a centrally significant contribution to the core aesthetic effect of the work.

Visiocollagic Poetry is Visual Poetry part or the whole of whose graphic constituent combines ametaphorically with part or the whole of the semantic meaning of its verbal element in such a
manner as to make a centrally significant contribution (in the view of a consensus of informed observers) to the core aesthetic effect of the work.

An awkward set of definitions but necessarily so.

I’ve decided a main reason it’s taken me so long to get a final set of poetics definitions is that I’m treating poetics as a verosophy–or attempt to come to a rational, objective understanding of some consequential large-scale aspect of existence sufficiently close to full for any reasonable person–and there are very few people (especially in the arts) interested (or, probably, qualified for) such an undertaking.  Those few who are, are off in their own wilder-nesses, not mine, or involved in a group effort as most of the sciences are.   In short, I’m basically without help–although occasionally I have gotten useful feedback.  I’m also over-extended–which is my fault.

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