Lorine Niedicker Mural

A Tale of Two Arts

I encountered 2 interesting tales of art lately, one the novel Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi, the other a film, Exit through the Gift Shop.

Jeff is a novel in 2 parts.  the first part features a "lost" writer who's life has become meaningless, who travels to the Biennale in Venice to supposedly write an article on a painter's ex-wife, get some photos, and obtain permission to use a secluded work of art. He fails on all accounts, but falls in love (very graphic, hot sex), attends parties (where the true artist of the Biennale is toasted -- the drink Bellini), and critiques art.  His new girlfriend actually has one of the better lines in the book, although there are many, when she states that art has become so banal it has achieved a new realm of meaning, like a new physics (paraphrased).  This section has some wonderful moments, particularly if you like the wry, ironic, overly cynical (but with moments of sentimentality) British take on things.
 In the second part of novel, Jeff travels to Varanasi, India to write a travel piece.  Again he fails, but settles into life in Varanasi, and comes to some weird sort of enlightenment.  This section is far more detailed and atmospheric than the Venice segment, which paled in comparison to an Aurelio Zen mystery I recently read (Dead Lagoon).  The "spiritual" element of the second part is very strange, evolving through illness, an altered perception of time, and the absurdities of life in Varanasi.

The movie, Exit through the Gift Shop is a must see for anyone who has doubts about the authenticity of art in these current times.  I found myself on the edge of my seat, pumping my fist in the air at times.  The imagination, courage, passion, political stance and non-commercialism of many of the street artists portrayed here is truly heartening, and has given me a direction for when I retire.  Another great line (again paraphrased) is said by the artist Space Invader: I hope to create meaning based on repetition, the thought being that the more a piece is seen in different places, the more it assumes importance and meaning, thus creating meaning out of something meaningless.  The film itself, has elements of a cosmic joke, turning itself on its head, or the head of Thierry Guetta, who supposedly shot much of the film, and decided to become an artist himself using the name Mr. Brainwash.  Is a Brainwash a hoax?  Is he Banksy?  Or is he who he says he is?  The jury is still out.  Meanwhile, he's designed a Madonna cover, and sold extensive amounts of "art."

Bach, Forests & Cell Phones -- Pretty Impressive Mix

A Blast from the Past

Machine of Death

the contest is now open for volume 2.  The first volume ranked higher than Glenn Beck's book on Amazon -- this one will rank higher than Sara Palin!


Machine of Death Talent Show - Opening from David Malki ! on Vimeo.

What Is Poetry

A compilation of opinions by a compilation of practitioners and readers courtesy of George Quasha.


poetry is  [vol. I] from George Quasha on Vimeo.

Heavy Industry

Check this venture from Young-Hae Chang Heavy Industry out.  Done to an Art Blakey soundtrack, and based on Pound's first 2 cantos.
http://www.yhchang.com/DAKOTA.html

Print in Action

Poetry in Action

Very Cool Website/Very Excellent Writer

http://www.ranadasgupta.com/
the url for Rana Gastupa's website is a web
sight a web of
sites
a lure.

Reading his Tokyo Canceled, a brilliantly conceived book about thirteen travelers stranded
in an airport (where?) by a blizzard that shuts down the Tokyo Airport.  They begin to talk,
share stories, become a book.

Anis Shivani

"Next door in a bookstore, the power of the blast made the thin, dusty volumes of French novelists translated into Persian totter and fall off the shelves, although the thicker British and Russians stayed put."  from "Tehran" by Anis Shivani


Every rare once in awhile I discover a new writer that I would sing about if I could sing, so write I will.  I first discovered the brash young Anis in his reviews at the Huffington Post, where he takes on the Canon and introduces many writers I never heard of, which for me are the best kind.  Soon after my introduction I obtained a copy of his collection of short stories, Anatolia and Other Stories, and began reading alongside a number of other books.  Anatolia soon won out.  The stories all grapple with multiculturalism, or shifting culturalism, as well as issues of race and class, yet they are in no way the politically correct liberal takes that fill the best literary journals, no sire, Anis likes to raise hackles, similar to his character Simone Carpentier in "Go Sell It on the Mountain," a vicious little take on a Breadloaf-styl writing workshop. The stories are set in the U.S., Dubai, India, Iran, Turkey and other locales.  Everywhere the winds of change are shifting the landscapes, and characters are caught up in these changes.  And these are Stories!  No po-mo shape-shifting for Anis.  Each story is filled with scrupulous detail, indigenous language, and fascinating characters.  They are touching, funny, angry, unjust, irritating and gentle to name a few.
The initial story, a very Kafkaesque peice, Dubai, tells of a construction worker who came to Dubai from India many years ago, and on the eve of his returning to India is visiting friends and reminiscing.  A disturbing incident from the past however interferes.  And the other stories, are well worth the visit to a library or book store.  And Anis Shivani is someone very much worth singing, or writing about.

Language Poetry Gone Awry

Judge: David-Winn: Miller, the wanna-be avant garde poet who believes the U.S. government is controlling us through it's use of grammar is a possible influence on the recent tragic Arizona shooting.  The shooter, Jared Loughner, apparently believed the most effective way to fight bad grammar was with a .9mm, something our schools are failing to teach (which he was also pissed about).  This seems related in methodology to the "Hit Squad" school of literary criticism, ala Salman Rushdie.  Watch your commas and CAPS, writers.

Old Stuff, Overheard in the National Gallery and adjacent Sculpture Garden

Young girl to young man: " I'm really getting arted out."

Young man to young man: "My dad is NOT a lawyer."

Man in blue vest: "How can time be a circle when there is no such thing as time?"

Stephen Machmanovich Free Play!

Denis Dutton

I just recently read that Denis Dutton had died at the far too early age of 66 (only 6 years my elder).  I had recently been introduced to Mr. Dutton by a friend, Jeff Purdue, and found his book The Art Instinct, an investigation of the role of evolution in the artistic process and appreciation.  The book was terrifically well-written, and threw out numerous hypotheses.  It was not Mr. Dutton's self-identified task to conclude anything, but rather open doors of inquiry, something he did masterfully.  I also became aware of his website, Arts & Letters, a virtual collage of reviews, opinions, and at times, madness.  Men of his honesty, directness and charm will be missed.

On other notes, recommended reads include the South African author J.M. Coetzee's (a new author for me) Boyhood: Scenes from a Provincial Life, a memoir of sorts about growing up in South Africa.  This is a marvelous and at times searing book.  I am looking forward to his next two in the series: Youth: Scenes from a Provincial Life II & Summertime.

And a highly recommended movie: The Social Network.  A must see!

Clear Dawn, Motor Started Eventually

Well it's almost a new year and a beautiful clear, cold Bellingham morning -- a perfect opportunity to pluck a few keys and get this old machine rolling again.
I bought a Nook, and was just comparing the readerly qualities between it and a paperback book at my desk.
The Nook's page is smaller, but there's no inner crevasse of a margin that needs to be tipped towards the light.
The heft is the same.
And I could say that there is a sensuality of paper that can't be matched by plastic but that's subjective.  But I'll say it anyway.
On the other hand, the damn thing can hold 1500 books, and I can check out books from the public library, get Google Books, and shop at our local Village Books as well as the nefarious Barnes & Noble.
So for my first two options I chose "Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi" by Geoff Dyer and "Just Kids" by Patti Smith which unbelievably won a National Book Award.  I'm grazing a bit in the Dyer, but have several paper texts to put away first.
On to the new year, beginning appropriately enough with a wedding on New Year's Eve (my friend Jim).
ciao.

A Taste of Bellingham

Frazey Ford (OMG, Obadiah)

I apologize in advance for the "Youtube Quality" but I love watching her move while she sings.  Obadiah is my favorite album of the year thus far.  And the sound is much, much better, as is the song diversity.

Poetry on Glenn Beck's new site - the bLAZE

UCSD PROFESSORS WANT TO DISSOLVE US — GIVE GPS PHONES WITH EXPLICIT POETRY TO ILLEGALS FOR BORDER CROSSING

GPS phones with EXPLICIT POETRY!  For Illegal Aliens (the ones from Mars?) Funded by taxpayer money!  Holy )&%)&^&_ Batman!

Blaze away Beck, with your "real journalists."

Tuli Kupferberg RIP

I was deeply moved today when I read that Tuli Kupferberg had died some weeks back.
I first saw Tuli perform with his band The Fugs in 1967 in Chicago at the Electric Playground, and this pivotal concert opened up more than a few doors of perception.  Tuli wrote amazing songs, and one of my favorite was "Morning, Morning" which is pure poetry.
These lines written by Ted Berrigan and Anne Waldman in Memorial Day 1971 describe Tuli perhaps better than anything ever written.

"I asked Tuli Kupferberg once, "Did you really jump off of The Manhattan Bridge?" "Yeah," he said, "I really did." "How come?" I said. "I thought that I had lost the ability to love," Tuli said. "So, I figured I might as well be dead. So, I went one night to the top of The Manhattan Bridge, & after a few minutes, I jumped off." "That's amazing," I said. "Yeah," Tuli said, "but nothing happened. I landed in the water, & I wasn't dead. So I swam ashore, & went home, & took a bath, & went to bed. Nobody even noticed."


A god of peace and vicious personal honesty has passed.

Nice Video, Nice Tune