Tuesday, June 19, 2018

COMMENTARY BY INDIRECTION on the present moment

                                        

This posting has three parts.  Over the years I have published five poems.  I published a poem in Poetry Ireland, Broadsheet and Arena--- the defining poetry journals of contemporary Ireland. A poem was published in a small Dutch magazine Manifest and another in a small journal published in the US.

The second part of the post is a walk around the art galleries in New York City.  The language of the handouts from the galleries in Chelsea reflect the art on display.  To reproduce the art would be a constant insult to the eye.  

The third part of the post are two passages from Curzio Malaparte's THE VOLGA RISES IN EUROPE, his reporting from two of the fronts following the German invasion of Russia in 1941.  

In a real sense it prepares for the reading for his two masterpieces: KAPUTT and THE SKIN which while describing his experiences in Europe during World War Two, can also be read as a description of the reality of Europe... as one remembers that the Third Balkan War filled up the 1990s... not that long ago... and of course a war continues by other means in the Ukraine.


                                    A PART




Bulgaria

Thomas McGonigle
I left the train at five o'clock in the afternoon 
and found love 
dressed in a gymnazium uniform 
black with sewn-on white collar 
we talked 
she took me to her house 
ate fried cheese and drank red wine 
her mother came in later 
a fire was lit in the stove 
i told them of coming from Ireland 
waited while she translated for her mother 
told them of coming from America 
waited while she translated for her mother 
told them of going to Turkey 
waited while 
told i could stay as long 
nodded yes 
which in Bulgaria means no 
they nodded no 
which in Bulgaria means yes. 

In the morning 
after the night's narrow bed lying together 
we walked the lemon streets of Sofia 
viewed the corpse of Dimitrov 
went to the zoo 
saw the militzia guarded American Embassy 
talking of going to the mountains 
and the next years 
not realizing: 
our love 
would turn in upon itself 
we would rub together 
two files 
going in opposite directions.



Page 64, Poetry Ireland Review Issue 12
            
                                     A PART


AGAIN . walking through the art places in Chelsea... what remain are the sentences in the pages that the galleries and the artists put out for off-site consumption.

You will notice no names are attached to any of these sentences... I went walking on Thursday 7 June 2018. I read through the pile of paper this morning and circled lines and words... I avoided any attempt at ordering them.

-blurring the lines between our unwavering cultural dependence on technology and the power structures that benefit
-compression, transition, cadence, syncopation---these are the operative words when discussing the techniques and strategies

-to create visual fictions that deliver moments of wonder, silence and introspection

-his wide-ranging oeuvre

-experimentation with surface, tactility, geometry, color, and expressive juxtapositions infuse her paintings with vibrant energy

-a variety of visceral and psychological narratives that incorporate an amalgam of recurring themes

-namely playfulness, violence and sexuality

-his ever-explorative vision and curiosity in depicting forms in space-our perception of reality by placing untamed bamboo brooms and glistening fish eyes next to each other

-the immersive group exhibition

-this realm is just on the heroic side of human scale

-from the position of a creative strategy "newly planted."

-attempted to create metaphorical landscapes within my work, referencing the natural world, architecture and my interest in history, travel and literature

-the hyperrealism of ............sculpture highlights this conflict between the genuine and the fake
-this lyrical dimension also contributes to another layer of meaning, something....has described as a hypothetical narrative

-though his practice occupies a position between architecture and activism

-reverberate an unfamiliar dimension, a sense of fear and alertness, primal powers and the night

-the evolution of these hieroglyphic-like narrative-less 'texts.'

-space paintings appear looser, more stochastic and more open to incident

-the boundaries between broad and narrow bands of adjacent colors generates visual vibrations.

-finds.... deftly threading the needle between the familiar and strange, beauty and mystery

-.....'s provocateur nature is his seminal sculptural work

-emphasizing the role of traditional modes of thought and hegemonic institutions in stifling original thought

-these visible traces of the artist's hand counter the autonomous quality of the poured veils, suggesting........ wish to mediate the universality of her work with a more personal experience

-Will the rising form of the pale-yellow orb diffuse their transparent membranes?

-presented in glassless frames, the drawings are delicate, vulnerable even.  Overwhelmingly articulated in life-size scale, the figures insist on being beheld


                             A PART


++Sitting almost bolt upright in a shell-hole is a dead Russian soldier, his face splashed with blood.  Sprinkled on his knees and all around  him are innumerable tiny fragments of that fresh cheese made from sheeps' milk which in these parts goes by the name of brintsa.  His mouth is still full of food. He was eating when a shell- splinter struck him in the temple.

++Dust and rain, dust and mud.  Tomorrow the roads will be dry, the vast fields of sunflowers will crackle in the hot parching wind.  Then the mud will return.  This is Russia, this is the Russia of the Tsars, the Holy Russia of the Tsars, this is also the USSR---dust and  rain, dust and mud. This is the Russian war, the eternal Russian war, the Russian war of 1941 ...  AND then the winter will come--- the beautiful, beautiful winter, for as long as the winter lasts--- the beautiful, beautiful winter of Holy Russia, the winter of steel and cement of the USSR.  Such is the war against Russia, 1941

(from THE VOLGA RISES IN EUROPE by Curzio Malaparte. published by ALvin Redman Ltd, London 1957)

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I am glad to see that you have broken the lull in your postings. I don't like your cynicism, but when you write about books that interest you, I find myself marking down the titles. I hope you will continue to point out new books. You didn't need to make any critical remarks about the language of art-hype. If I were a painter, I wouldn't allow such things to be said about me. Keep up the good fight.

Uncle Kirky said...

I like the "lemon streets."