(i may crib this technique from you!) = ) if i do end up doing something like this, i will be sure to acknowledge your work as the source for my thought-train
i like your thinking on this, how the white paper is blank, devoid of language, yet it is folded & crumpled & held together with those black arches -- that the arches appear to be electrical tape adds another element, that of voltage, transmission, from here to there (writer to reader) -- the arches can also be read as fragments of letterform, serifs surfing a serifless empty sea -- the folds also suggest that of a paper airplane, voyage, silent flight,
i could go on & on, the architecture, the aeromythicism, the blankness, the plication, the b & w, etc etc
this work offers multiple readings, to me at least.
do you have a particular reading of it for yourself?
This was one of the initial ideas I had on seeing Caroline Bergvall's Plessjør way back at the beginning of the month. Which seems impossibly long ago now. There were a rush of ideas, most of which are emerging as distinct strands, which I'll attempt to bring together.
There was screwed up paper - just that and nothing more. There was paper with black tape like graphic marks. As an aside to this one item, when I studied print and publishing some years back we studied the whole historical range of print techniques. For pre-computer photographically reproduced pages you had a number of different point thicknesses of tape available to add lines between columns, or within columns. There were lines. There were the circles. There were hand and palm prints. There was blue - I didn't want to start with that too soon, both to avoid duplicating some of her work, and to stop myself buying any old shade of blue. There may have been a couple of other ideas I can't remember right now.
So it was both a sudden freeing, and not consciously plotted. The long answer being then that I don't have a reading for it myself at present. As with most of my work I'm taking a journey and trying to see what it throws up. The title just seemed to fit - like most of my titles.
The closest I can get to a reading is that my current visual work is doing much what my sound work is doing. That is getting back to the most fundamental aspects of poetry in each form. In visual poetry that's the page, the marks on it, and the patterns (rhythms) they make. In my sound work it's the breath, sound, and rhythm. It's kind of deconstructing poetry and the whole process in order to come to a better understanding of it.
Comments
(i may crib this technique from you!)
= )
if i do end up doing something like this, i will be sure to acknowledge your work as the source for my thought-train
i like your thinking on this, how the white paper is blank, devoid of language, yet it is folded & crumpled & held together with those black arches -- that the arches appear to be electrical tape adds another element, that of voltage, transmission, from here to there (writer to reader) -- the arches can also be read as fragments of letterform, serifs surfing a serifless empty sea -- the folds also suggest that of a paper airplane, voyage, silent flight,
i could go on & on, the architecture, the aeromythicism, the blankness, the plication, the b & w, etc etc
this work offers multiple readings, to me at least.
do you have a particular reading of it for yourself?
There was screwed up paper - just that and nothing more. There was paper with black tape like graphic marks. As an aside to this one item, when I studied print and publishing some years back we studied the whole historical range of print techniques. For pre-computer photographically reproduced pages you had a number of different point thicknesses of tape available to add lines between columns, or within columns. There were lines. There were the circles. There were hand and palm prints. There was blue - I didn't want to start with that too soon, both to avoid duplicating some of her work, and to stop myself buying any old shade of blue. There may have been a couple of other ideas I can't remember right now.
So it was both a sudden freeing, and not consciously plotted. The long answer being then that I don't have a reading for it myself at present. As with most of my work I'm taking a journey and trying to see what it throws up. The title just seemed to fit - like most of my titles.
The closest I can get to a reading is that my current visual work is doing much what my sound work is doing. That is getting back to the most fundamental aspects of poetry in each form. In visual poetry that's the page, the marks on it, and the patterns (rhythms) they make. In my sound work it's the breath, sound, and rhythm. It's kind of deconstructing poetry and the whole process in order to come to a better understanding of it.