This week we visited the new exhibition of Martin Laborde at Corner Door; we learned more about Kenneth Anger, we passed by the exhibition Juiceworks, we watched artist movies made by Heidi Bucher and Liz Magic Laser; and we wished you Happy Valentine’s day with the song Je t’aime…moi non plus performed by Serge Gainsbourg & Jane Birkin.
Jack Spicer wrote what he called ‘dictated poetry.’ To Spicer, a cipher, the work came from outside, his role as a poet was simply to transcribe the poem as it is dictated. This is because a poem cannot express anything of the poet’s desires—according to Spicer the poem in fact says the opposite of the poet’s intention. The poem itself has its own desires. Never write what you like; the lines you like are the ones that screw up the poem. The poet after writing a poem should feel empty, as though he didn’t say anything.
A poem originates as a desire, before language, contrary to expression. Spicer, in a famous series of lectures delivered in Vancouver in 1957, describes himself as a host, transmitting this desire that originates from a source outside. The source is unimportant. It is with your own words, your own voice that you have to bring form to the poem. You are stuck with words. You speak the words. But it does not follow that you wrote those words. Mirror makers know the secret – one does not make a mirror to resemble a person, one brings a person to the mirror.
Corner Door is a project space runs by Oscar Tuazon and located 3351 Fletcher Drive, Los Angeles.
The show is on until beginning of March.
This week on the blog we discovered the designers Antoine Philippon and Jacqueline Lecoq; saw the first exhibition at Del Vaz Projects; listened Dayvan Cowboy from Boards of Canada; visited the new show of Mark Leckey at Wiels: Lending Enchantment to Vulgar Materials and the show of Jonathan Binet and Martin Laborde at Gaudel de Stampa: Yellow Cabin Saturday Night Remittent Fever.
Yellow Cabin Saturday Night Remittent Fever
Re: Yellow Cabin Saturday Night Remittent Fever
Thanks, I’m glad you like the poem but it doesn’t exist.
Unless it only consists in its title. I mean its name. Cause it didn’t get much further in my hands than a fucking name.
According to Wikipedia, it should refer to an equivocal yet acute disease:
variable fevers affecting primates, something to do with complexion, and confinement too,
and with Tony, in the movie, when he dances at 2001 Odyssey, in Bay Ridge, after his shift at the hardware store.
Its temperature fluctuates in the shape of tiny crenels, a bit above normal.
This poem doesn’t exist but it’s available.
Hope to catch up this winter,
at Gaudel de Stampa
3, rue de Vaucouleurs 75011 Paris
September 19 – October 25
This week on the blog Alexandra Ruiz of Madame Paris joined the team. Check out all of our postings!
Sadie Benning ‘Patterns’ at Callicoon Fine Arts