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January 2006
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January 23, 2006

Richard Long - at San Francisco Museum of Modern Art

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 3:17 am

Yesterday I went to hear Richard Long (walker, sculptor & photographer) give a lecture and (extensive) slide show of his work, as well as to see the installation of his recent site specific Sierra mountain walk, including photographs, text and mudwall hand paintings at San Francisco’s MOMA. Such lovely work, but a troubling human presence. Long is more of what I would call a “geomancer” than one interested in human relations within and about the variously global habitats of his long walk and camping visitations. (Most often there are no people visible at all). The actual work - photographs and texts, however, possess an extraordinary sense of precision, spatial relations and time. Indeed the work, as he admits, a form of earth science, one with roots in ancient origins and practice - whether for religious or other cosmological purposes of study.
During the period of questions at the end of the talk, I threw him what was probably a “ringer”: “What kind of reading informs your work?”
He looked puzzled, so I asked, in the long tradition of English walkers and writers, “Like do your read Wordsworth?” I had no doubt that that would push a button!
He reacted with the contempt that many minimalist sculptors no doubt reserve for romantics.
“No, I don’t read Wordsworth.” And then made mention that he was reading a popular detective writer.
In the context of his recent 20 day walk in the Sierra along the Pacific Crest Trail, there was no indication he had read John Muir, Rexroth, Snyder or Whalen’s work in those same mountains - which, I suspect, must remain, at least a personal loss, though I do not know how the reading of those writers might have shaped this recent work at all. (Well, if he actually read a history of the Donner Party - in reference to a slide of a circle of stones he built there - he would not have said the Party merely “got stranded there.” It was not like those in the Party who either died or barely survived had just missed a bus!)

When I did not budge from my question, or looked at him as if he were not being fully truthful, he allowed that had recently read a book on gravity and Newton.

Which was right on his mark, his work. Long, I would say is a kind of scientist of “the sublime,” though I am sure he does not frequently use that “word” in his vocabulary. But much of the work is – framed by classical formal elements (circle, line, time units) - in its precision and severity - incredibly beautiful, indeed, Sublime. (If I can be critically comparative, Long’s work definitely sub-rates the crowd pleasing, Hallmark card aspects- and no where near the intelligence - of much of the work of Andy Goldsworthy).

But it intrigues me how many artists – in this case those in a minimalist tradition (Carl Andre, Judd, De Maria, etc.) tend to avoid the literature about the spaces that their work inhabits. Not always. Smithson, for example, seems very conversant with the literature and history of, say, what occurred about the site of Spiral Jetty (intentionally sighting it near the golden spike that connected the first transcontinental railroad.)

Unfortunately I did not get to ask Richard Long if he even reads Thomas A. Clark - the Scottish poet who also examines remote landscapes in an also rigorous fashion - though, different from Long, Clark is much more interested in the human implication of what he discovers on his walks. Long, by the way, is quite insistent that his text pieces not be confused with poems. The words he considers as “objects”, not different than individual stones or other natural items, and shape in which the are printed on the paper correspond to shape of the walk or some aspect of the terrain. The elegant portrayal of evidence - the printed works.

In fairness, I guess we can also count in multi-multiples the number of writers who have no literacy around the visual! It’s probably the sad irony of so many art programs in the way they exclude literature study from their requirements, and, reciprocally, the way creative writing programs remain blind to visual literature, let alone the history of music, avant garde innovation, etc. Whatever writers, artists or composers discover beyond the frames of their discipline, I suspect is left to do it on their own. I suspect, or imagine the multi-disciplinary character of computer technology is rapidly altering the situation (tho I personally do not know if the ‘pedagogy’ is keeping up with these changes at all. )

Oh well, similar to scientists and surgeons, there is nothing to expect in Long’s work to suspect him to be an expert in human or social relations – (spatial relations, yes) He likes being out there long, and often alone. Yet, one must applaud the counter-imperial, non-monumental, ephemeral character of the work - Long clearly means no natural harm - and only brings home, primarily, the visual record and analysis of what he has temporarily built, discovered and witnessed with camera and journal.
No small achievement. Paradoxically - for the space of an exhibit, or in the presence of many of his books - the evidence is touchingly, not only beautiful, but large and instructive.

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January 20, 2006

A Piece of Cake

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 5:27 am

“He didn’t even like her when they first went out.
He was just playing her.
He just wanted a piece of cake.”

A sixth grade girl talking to a fourth grade girl waiting on the bus bench after school, corner of Church and 22nd Streets.

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Jack Spicer - An Epic Thought

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 4:59 am

Maybe it’s possible to consider Jack Spicer’s entire poetic opus
as one elaborate counter-heroic translation of Beowulf.

That the serial poem - as practiced by Spicer - was/is a contemporary reenactment of the epic form, though in his case - the hero thwarted - a counter-epic.

In 1946-47 Spicer did his own translation of Beowulf - the notebooks of which
are in the archives at The Bancroft Library, U.C. Berkeley (his
alma-mater.)

It will not be me, but I suspect - eventually - now that we have the translation,
Beowulf will be at the core of someone’s Spicer dissertation.

At this point, admittedly, this is all sheer speculation.

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January 19, 2006

Saucer Magnolia - A Story of Sorts

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 1:03 am

“It’s still happening. I will tell you when it’s over.”

One girl to another in front of Mission High School this morning. I like her refusal to provide a voice-over to whatever is in the middle of happening. I suspect (or remember) adolescence as perpetually happening or not happening. Everyone waiting about - on constant alert - to see what might trigger something. Then the stories.

The big open lavender tinged, thick white blossoms on the tall spare bush on side of the walk up the hill into Dolores Park.

“Saucer Magnolia,” a kind, knowledgeable gardener gives me the name. Yes - well sort of - the blossoms slowly open like a slender bowl, well, “saucer”. Yet, I would not call the shape a saucer: big petals that fall wide open - the tip and sides slightly curled up, catching the morning’s southern, winter light - until they eventually sink, sporadically falling on to the grass.

Yes, or maybe not, adolescence - or something more full: love and attention that comes later, the gift, or reward in an older age: slowly budding, blooming open, only to gradually, or sometimes abruptly, fall away.

Just now a thought, this morning, thinking.

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January 17, 2006

Emotional Intelligence - A Sighting

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 1:47 am

FEELING IS MY
BEST SUBJECT

White Block letters on a blue T-shirt
On a six-year old boy walking with his family
on the trail out to Tennesse Valley Cove.

Curious - on the so-called political side - the way the US Government calls the seventeen dead (including women and children) - in the weekend bombing of the housing compound in Pakistan - “collateral damage.” Nothing has been confirmed as to whether or not Al-Queda leaders were actually killed. We do know that the Pakistani’s are outraged that the USA can make a unilateral military strike within their sovereign territory, and outraged at the indiscriminate killing of civilians.
It does make it necessary to ask, what is the difference between this kind of attack in Pakistan by the CIA and the one of Al-Queda on the World Trade Center. What if Ben Laden had explained the 3000 dead civilians in the Twin Towers as “collateral damage”, and only the unfortunate side effects of any military action against a stategic enemy target.
I am sure that one would have considered that statement as one outrage on top of another. I think it is more than easy to understand the outrage of the Pakastanis.
In the context of the Arab and Muslim worlds, this bombing must be interpreted as a diplomatic disaster. One that will generate more and more opposition to the USA - only further unraveling any of its ‘altruistic’ objectives in the region. Unable to recognize global warming and what now many scientists consider ‘irreversible damage’ to the planet, it’s hard to imagine this Administration as capable of recognizing any half-way reasonable strategies - as different from self-desructives ones - in the Arab world.

Imagine George W. Bush wearing a T-Shirt at a News Conference:

FEELING IS MY
BEST SUBJECT

This man who, more and more, I can only see and hear as a living and sad testimony to the unconstrained power of belligerance, arrogance and ignorance.

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January 13, 2006

Alito = Sadness

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 11:22 pm

USA Flag.Divided

It’s a sad week, a sad day, just plain sad - an all the way through sadness.
To see this apparent nomination to the Supreme Court about to become a reality.
Another mediocre servant of the Right. Another piece of vengeful repressed bitterness and continuing opponent to all that was released in the nineteen-sixties - sexual freedom, civil rights, feminism, opposition to the war in Vietnam, etc. At home in the right wing of the Catholic Church and the Republican Party)
To see that a more and more apparently impeachable President be able to still nominate the Justices to the highest court in the land. That he can still appoint his servants.
It’s a crying shame.
I feel so sad for the country - sad for the consequences.
It’s not a day for rebellion.
It’s of deep sadness.

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January 11, 2006

Winter Throne Down

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 8:47 am

Leighton.Bulgaria

In winter retreat perforce a throne
Tender in Bulgaria. Let the pink tongue
Carve marble…

Throne, a sculpture site by Patricia Leighton: Bulgaria, 2000. Pastel.

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January 9, 2006

When the dead die

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 12:40 pm

102_0269
When the dead die - as monochromatic as any ultimate gesture -
one is compelled - again and again - over time - in one way or other
to say farewell and not really know what that means other than
someone is gone, real gone and one day soon, or one day or many past,
it’s undoubtely going to be one’s lover, sister, brother, father, mother
one just real good friend and where, perhaps, like this, it is going to look
as one long bridge into one ultimate dark square into which
one can only, finally, back off and - in a certain kind of awe - indeed say
sayonara, farewell, good-bye, loved you much, turn back
and get on another, either slowly or quickly, get back, moving
with a contrary force, yes, one’s feet now, faster and faster, yes,
that other, chug-a-chug, take it, hate to say it, but, still take it,
forward, now right along side this big, fat, full river,
walking, faster and faster, blackened tie to blackened tie, step by step, ancient,
no matter simple as that, railroad track.

Defunct Railroad Bridge (1910), South Fork of the Eel River, below Alderpoint, California.
Built by Manson Moore (my grandfather, Civil Engineer) & Co.

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January 8, 2006

Winter - Ancestry

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 9:28 am

Carson Mansion.Cropped

Winter - bare-boned trees et al - proposes ancestry, its skeletel memory shooting up through psyche and sky, houses stripped clean by storm upon storm. To see things clear, unadorned by embellishment: fracture in either wood or stone, the hard texture in a sustained memory: the mutable, the slow, fundamental change in any structure, hard earned in January, a leaf filled camouflage in summer.

In winter no shelter for the wound; an ice cradled history beckons a faltered marriage, a dead brother, a lost father, a son still seeking his own. Language is but an architecture, its rooms - its words - variously vacant, under construction or, finished, bearing tidings to inhabitants variously temporal, permanent or inexcusably late. In a word one is lost, regained and/or invariably spit out again. Architecture and its residents - at best - temporal metaphor.

To run on empty in a sun torn state; there is no woman named Electra to turn on an infinite power. One lives with gold glimmers of a host; divinity a virgin expectation. One breathes - breath by breath - the cracked, layered, textured stone - beige - running down, implicit to the steep cliff - the late afternoon angle of the Pacific sun - the roiled white capped, floodtide, ocean wave: pierced by chill, inevitably, one turns - the steps joined to an upward, cement walkway - an impatient squawking gull, its yellow beak quivering - to live, as one does - ample, clear & truly - once again.

Photo:Carson Mansion, Eureka, California, built in 1885

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January 5, 2006

Re Jean Vengua

Filed under: Uncategorized — Stephen @ 9:19 am

http://willtoexchange.blogspot.com/

Tom Beckett has done a very good interview with fellow blogger, poet and visual artist, Jean Vengua. Jean mentions my ‘paranormal (her word!) Ghost picture & text pieces that I was writing in the Fall. If you are interested in visiting those, go the calendar and try some of the dates in October, November and early December (when the Ghosts apparently began to hibernate - well, the camera got broke).
If you do not know Jean Vengua’s blog, here it is: http://okir.blogspot.com/

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