I’m still in the null zone but will try to answer an important question for people starting out as visual poets who want to know how to get somewhere in the field, in whatever manner–because I often think about this, have written about it many times (albeit only semi-effectively), and was asked by someone about it recently.
First of all, I need to admit that I’ve never come close to figuring out the answer to the question brought up by most would-be poets or artists of any kind, which is, “How do I make it as a visual poet?” meaning–usually–how do I get the reputation I merit, and possibly some financial reward for my visual poetry?
(Those of you who are well-enough off–probably as a tenured English professor–to be above money concerns, and in are satisfied with the esteem of those in your literary clique–need not read further.)
My preliminary answer: I have absolutely no idea despite having been a Serious Poet (i.e., a published poet) for forty, and a Serious Visual Poet for thirty years. I have gotten a reputation as a visual poet, but only among other visual poets, and who knows how much they value my work. Even in the minute world of poetry-as-a-whole, I remain close to unknown. I’ve never gotten any kind of award for poetry, or paid more than a few dollars for a poem except for two framed, hangable poems–i.e., as a visual artist.
To continue discussing myself–because I think it the easiest way to answer the question, I began as a playwright. Not getting anywhere in that field, and always having been a sometime poet of sorts, I thought it’d be much easier to break into poetry than into playwriting, and that perhaps I could establish myself as a poet, which should heop me be taken seriously as a playwright. That’s LESSON NUMBER ONE: start at the bottom, poetry and short-story-writing seeming to me the bottom because poems and short stories are the easiest things to get published.
Among the easiest poems to get published in 1970 were haiku. I’d always liked them, and had some on hand, so tried them on a few haiku magazine publishers. LESSON NUMBER TWO is get a copy of the Dustbooks Directory of Small Presses. Look up the publishers of your kind of poetry, buy copies of their magazines, and send work to the ones whose selections you like. LESSON NUMBER THREE, is try to get into a correspondence with some of the editors of magazines you like. Starting with a fan letter, preferably a sincere one, will help. That’s something I did. As a result, one haiku editor sent me comments on my rejected haiku, including suggestions for improvement. I followed her suggestions, mostly agreeing with them, until established enough to go my own way when I thought I should.
Eventually, I found the addresses of a few publishers of concrete poetry, and started corresponding with the editor of one, sending him not poems but criticism of some poetry in his magazine. We hit it off. He asked for more essays. At length, I tried some visual poems on him. Meanwhile, he gave me the name and address of another visual poetry publisher. I got into a good correspondence with him, too, but couldn’t break into his magazine for two or three years. Both of these guys told me about others in the field, so I was soon corresponding with quite a few visual poets, many of whom also were editor/publishers. I then went to a gathering of visual poets. After that, I was an established visual poet. In the BigWorld, that meant nothing, though.
Oh, I also early on started my own press, having been able to buy a Xerox with money a grandmother had left me. I published a lot of stuff, which no doubt helped me make friends although I did it–really–because I wanted to get deserving things in print no other publisher would publish.
I still don’t understand why no visual poet has made it big, meaning gotten a reputation and access to money like Robert Haas, say. Several people have made money from visual poetry–Jenny Holzer, for one–but as visual artists not visual poets (and with mostly poor work).
Anyway, I kept internetting. One of my friends in the field had enough clout to help me get paying gigs as a critic once or twice, and into a reference book he edited; another got me into the Gale Contemporary Authors Autobiographical Essays series.
In the mid-nineties, I became active on the Internet, and got a few gigs all on my own by responding to announcements of exhibitions, anthologies, reference books needing entries.
Exhibitions. For visual poets, that is important. I’ve been in a few exhibitions, mainly because I knew the right people–fellow visual poets who were able to set up group shows. It all boils down to INTERNETTING. There are always mail art shows going on, too, that it’s worth contributing to if you’re more prolific than I. They get the name around.
Now that the Internet is here, one should use it as much as possible. Having a blog is inexpensive, and worthwhile for all kinds of reasons. A few people may go to it. The only poem of mine that ever got into a textbook (where it was mislabeled a visual poem) was seen at my blog. (I was supposed to be paid with a copy of the textbook, but the creeps never sent me a copy or replied to my queries about the matter.)
A blog can also give you writing exercise, and let you try out rough drafts.
You might also join poetry discussion groups like Spidertangle, which is primarily for visual poets. Good for internetting, for news of anthologies and shows, etc.
I’ve also tried local poetry readings and met some nice people, but haven’t furthered my career, at all. I’ve found it a waste of time trying for grants like the Guggenheim. No visual poet I know has gotten one for his poetry. John M. Bennett managed for a few years to get a grant for his magazine, Lost & Found Times. Canadians have made out pretty well with government grants, one of them getting two grants, one for himself as himself and one for himself under one of his many pseudonyms.
Of course, I’ve no doubt made things difficult for myself by being as combative as I’ve been in many of my essays, and posts to discussion groups. I don’t believe in astrology but like to say I’m a victim of Moon in Aries, which makes me that way. I’m a natural pop-off artist. I do control myself much of the time, and am also naturally able to make fun of myself, so aren’t as loathed as I might otherwise be. I actually thought that being outrageous might help me, as it has others. It hasn’t. Possibly because I’m often on everybody’s wrong side. For instance, a vocifeorous believer in the value of visual poetry, which offends conventional poets, while also a vocifeous believer that textual designage is not visual poetry, which offends most visual poets.
Note: I’m much less aware of the current scene now than I was ten years ago. I’m to the point where I’m more concerned with finishing Important Projects of mine than getting anywhere socio-economically. I rarely publish anything anywhere but here at my blog–unless solicited by a friend.
I don’t think I’ve said much but can’t right now think of anything to add. I hope what I’ve said is useful to someone. I’ll be glad to answer any questions. I’d particular like to hear from people with other ideas on how to get ahead.
Oh, and yes, it’s quite possible that one will get ahead automatically if one’s work is good enough. Mine may not be. However, I can’t accept that the entire field of visual poetry is deservedly as marginal as it’s been since ints inception–at least in the United States. In many South American countries and perhaps elsewhere, it seems to be taken much more seriously.
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the word ‘poetry’ within the two word term ‘visual poetry’ frames the discussion. we are not saying visual calligraphy nor graphics poetry, nor comix poetry etc.
as long as you focus on your self centered lexicon rather than seek an universal point of viewing, all this is perhaps a talking passed each other.
to continue: because of the steady decline since its peak in the early 1990′s, and because the term visual poetry was coined circa 1965 to break away from the limits of what became concrete poetry, i now prefer the use of sound illumination or illuminated language/s to cover all the visual (must see to fully grasp) use of language that can be composed. the best visual poetry is but a small subset as a result of what took place in the 1990’s. the following is a very abridged outline as to my shift.
just as concrete became cliché, what has become american vizpo/vispo (a term i used since the late 1970′s onward in my correspondence as an abbreviation for visual poetry), much american vispo, since the mid 1990’s attempted take over by a certain click of the language poets, has become neo/retro concrete. many american visual poets aloud themselves to be hypnotized (or consciously gave themselves over) by a perceived center of power of the moment to serve in order to gain recognition and or power, rather than serve the eternal muse of poetry.
vispo is now a cliché. it is no wonder the title of a forthcoming anthology is called the last vispo anthology. the editors themselves not only unconsciously have announced its death but also date its birth as 1950’s concrete movement (: “The Last Vispo Anthology extends the dialectic between art and literature that began with the concrete poetry movement fifty years ago.”) they themselves and those within this particular group consciousness admit they work in a temporal moment without homage to the eternal muse.
visual poetry roots are many thousands of years deep. illuminated language and its ancestral pictorial pictographic petroglyphic images even deeper. those not knowing history are condemned to repeat it. that is obviously true for those cutting history of this form off at 1950.
Interesting entirely unself-centered take on the history of visual poetry, Karl. But, as I point out, your definition of visual poetry is too general. If you disagree with that, you need to present an argument against it. You need to show, for instance, either that poems like “cropse” are visual poems, or why such poems need not be considered visual poems by your definition.
I would add that naming things for political reasons the way you say visual poetry was, retards the search for truth. But “visual poetry” is a good term. It is a good term because it specifies a kind of poetry that is specifically verbal and visual, and not, like concrete poetry, concrete in some other way, such as tactilely. That is why it is in my taxonomy. I would add that almost all concrete poetry is also visual poetry.
‘Visual Poetry is a Poetry that has to be seen.’ can be taken as a definition maybe. But lots of problems here, first of all, written poetry can be seen also. There is a form there and it is not always the same, especially after the free verse. Second, we have to ask maybe where a poem happens? This answer has to be relative. If it is in the paper, well, but what if it is in readers mind, relation to these signs (word, punctuation, structure etc)? If we can define where a poem happens, then we can talk about the eye and visual? But usually a poem happens between reader and the paper, reader “completes” the work as Duchamp mentioned.
Your problem with the definition can be taken care of easily by amending it to “Visual Poetry is a Poetry that has to be seen for full appreciation of its main aesthetic cargo.” The way a conventional poem looks on the page is not part of its main aesthetic cargo. Nor would the calligraphication of its letters be. The problems with it that I point out remain: it would cover too much that is not visual poetry, such as the pwoermd, “cropse,” and illustrated poems (which many artists who make them consider visual poems. A definition should always be as simple as possible, but simplicity rarely works.
As for where a poem happens, it seems clear to me that it happens in the mind. But rationally to define poetry, one needs to consider only what a poem is materially, which is generally word-shaped ink on a page, but which can include visual and other kinds of elements. And, of course, can be in the air as word-shaped sounds.
@Grumman; “The way a conventional poem looks on the page is not part of its main aesthetic cargo” How about thinking Mayakovski and other Russian Formalists and Futurists poems? I know these are not “conventional” but in a certain way they are modern now. How about haiku? and how about arabic or persian poetry for ages that has lot to do with the typography or calligraphy, ideograms etc where language or the sign is not just a carrier for meaning, it has the meaning only by itself. In western thinking these are not may be considered or not taken as main-frame but visual poetry has lots of roots with the “graphic-writing” history of the writing. If you are a verbal poet or as Ong say “verbomotor poet” these has minor importance but other way, every structural element has critical importance i guess. And how can we be sure that cargo, can be carried easily by any means and chance of the Language? Is poetry that good at that kind of information (communication)?
I think it’s a matter of a case by case decision whether a given poem’s aesthetic cargo is visual enough to make the poem a visual poem. I simply subjectively do not feel calligraphy (in most cases) does so. It’s decorative only. Spacing in poems isn’t enough, either, in my subjective view. I don’t see how haiku are visual. Chinese ideagrams may seem very visual to westerners but are essentially composed of symbols that are read, not seen.
As for language’s ability to carry an aesthetic cargo, I assume without the help of its visual arrangement and decoration, I simply subjectively believe that words can carry huge amounts of meaning and that in a good poem that meaning makes things like calligraphy minor.
One has to make subjective decisions like that or give up defining things. It seems to me that you are basically calling for a definition of visual poetry too broad to be useful. What isn’t visual poetry if haiku are or, apparently, any hand-written poem is?
i would have to say, the use of the phrase ‘eternal muse of poetry’ seems ridiculous here. taking wide sloppy swings at people you do nothing but miss and waste our time.
karl kempton sevişelim mi?
Concrete poem represents deep feeling