Entries tagged with I Met

June 8, 2024

Entry 59: The Indexical Present I

Friday, May 17

Delta 361 DTW > SFO

Andrew Smith
Syd Staiti

The Lab
Small Press Traffic
Hal Foster, Unseen
@ Et al. Gallery

May 17 is a triangular nexus in my calendar: birthdays of Lyn Hejinian, Kit Robinson, and Kathleen Frumkin, often celebrated with light remarks about page turning and celestial inevitability. Now that has changed, while the date remains as an index. On that date, Carla Harryman and I determined to travel west, to reconnect and make new connections, prompted by Lyn’s passing but multi-tasking as usual. File under “persons”: “Leaving tomorrow AM for one-week tour of the West Coast (San Francisco, Alameda, Berkeley, San Diego), focusing on people, the best kind of travel,” I wrote on Facebook. But “persons” are an index as well, to their activity and the contexts that surround them. Thus we encounter them.

Andrew Smith, for instance, was a person not known to me—but it was a fine meeting. In his role as director of The Lab, he is the custodian, as it were, of its history as well as current reinventor of its mission. Space and time: The Lab was founded, I read, 39 years ago, which I know as one of my first promising students, Laura Brun, was its cofounder. At the time I was teaching—I think for three semesters, but it may have been two—for the Center for Experimental and Interdisciplinary Arts at San Francisco State. My credentials were minimal: emergent poet and editor making an uproar on the San Francisco scene, represented by readings and publications—reputational capital enough for contingent appointment, though it would not last (I remember the day I turned in my keys and ID after my appointment was not renewed). Nor would the program itself. But its success, and mine, was the students, memorably Laura—while a number are visible on social media and are doing things in the arts. Laura was dedicated to the cause, and she put in her time getting The Lab up and running at a storefront on Divisidero Street. Among the start-up arts spaces from the 70s and 80s—Capp Street, 80 Langton Street, Project Artaud, ATA—The Lab is one of the survivors, along with Small Press Traffic; many others have gone down. And Laura, too. … More

September 16, 2023

Entry 52: Magnetic North (V)

Tuesday, June 20

Donna Stonecipher

Martin Eder, Elysium
Galerie EIGEN + ART

Pro QM Buchhandlung

I.S. Kalter/Yana Tsegay
Mountains Gallery

On this day we determined to meet poet Donna Stonecipher and spend some unstructured time with her. We would begin with Galerie EIGEN + ART, last hold-out of the gallery wave that defined Auguststraße as emergent art district twenty years ago and representative of the Leipzig School, notably Neo Rauch. Most of the galleries that traversed the merger from East to West have left—most recently the conceptual gallery Barbara Wien—but EIGEN + ART kept its original location while branching out. (A search to find out what happened to the former Waschmachine gallery yields no trace but ads for the Whiteware brand of washing machine and “Hot German girl fucks dildo on Waschmachine,” on Xhamster). Such references intersect, in their vulgarity, with the work on view: a theatrical series of hyper-post-consumer-utopian-quasi-religious-fantasy tableaux by Martin Eder titled Elysium. As the gallery handout reads: “Since there are no blemishes, no disease, no suffering, and thus also no death in Elysium, the fresh moisture on the figures’ skin must come from the dew on Paradise’s meadows. ‘Dewy,’ as the beauty tutorials in the Internet call it.” The stretch from the conceptual rigor and ideology critique the gallery brought to Berlin, to the cynical avowal of kitsch grandstanding as having somewhat the same effect, defines the times we are in. Not much comment to make, so we proceed to a late lunch and walk a mile across Linienstraße to Pro QM Buchhandlung, nearby the always-beating heart of Left Berlin of Rosa-Luxemburg-Platz, the Volksbühne, Babylon Mitte, and the headquarters of Die Linke. After the surrealists’ calling as “specialists in revolt,” Pro QM sells books for “specialists in transformative urbanism,” from the psycho-geographical dérives of the situationists to current architectural studies and city guides, such as the one I brought back on Eisenhüttenstadt. It is home-in-exile on an intellectual plane that shows why we came here in the first place: to map the excitement of Berlin’s evolution as a city onto critical and creative projects. It is a source of thinking the city as one is within it.

… More

September 2, 2023

Entry 51: Magnetic North (IV)

Friday, June 16
DB ICE 1040 Bergen auf Rügen > Berlin Hbf

54 Ebertystraße, Friedrichshain, Berlin

Carla Harryman
Ragna Berg
Florian Werner

Ellen Allien
Hamburger Bahnhof

Just about to get there; we have been away. Time crosses space, beginning in Rügen Island and ending in Berlin. Then we were advised to come and we would arrive. The party crowd is aware of its having a location in time and space, had been there for awhile—before we came. The party crowd at the Hamburger Bahnhof, celebrating the new director, a new orientation for art. As we come from a distance, the music invites us in, not yet there. On arrival it is there, an insistent pulse, meditative, cruising on horizontal, an endless plane of immanence, synced in time. He is coming soon, wrote Wittgenstein; he will be coming, he will have come. That must be the new director. Then he will have arrived. Gertrude Stein repeated the phrase, only with modulation. Ellen Allien is the legitimate appointee of the new director, hired to entertain and inspire the crowd, to be a work of art in herself. The party crowd is a work of art in itself, an instance of Gertrude Stein advancing in time. As the director himself had written, “The limits of my language mean the limits of my world“—that is the principle of new art at the Hamburger Bahnhof. It is raining, the crowd is moving slightly then more openly, Ellen Allien gestures to the sky, arms raised, rain is coming down. A steady pulse of the language of limits becomes an episode in time and space. We are not afraid of speaking.

A man coming.
Yes there is a great deal of use in a man coming but will he come at all if he does come will he come here.
How to you like it if he comes and look like that. Not at all later. Well anyway he does come and if he likes it he will come again.
Later when another man comes
He does not come.
Girls coming. There is no use in girls coming.
Well anyway he does come and if he likes it he will coming gain.

Ellen Allien is the legitimate heir of Gertrude Stein. Nonsense, she pushes a button and there is a new orientation to the beat. Nonsense. Pulse, difference. Slight movements under an umbrella, the umbrellas are folded. We learn the new meaning to experience time and space, under the auspices of the new director, as an example of the new art. The art is coming all over with newness, like Gertrude Stein coming to Radcliffe, GIs arriving in the Bavarian Alps. The movement begins with a slight dancing, becomes more pronounced, is shared by many in the crowd. Finding a position in the middle, unable to really get a look at Ellen Allien, stepping back, her arms are raised with the beat. And a gigantic pause makes ensuing pulse more danceable, this is the basic grammar of techno. Nonsense. Now take a position a bit farther back, focus and click. On the pause that makes the pulse happen. Let us say what Ellen Allien teaches: electronic dance music teaches. She is the instructor of the moment, hired by the director, as an example of the new art. Her whole life is oriented toward this moment of instruction, in the form of a work of art, a way of being historical. This is the mandate of the Nationalgalerie der Gegenwart: to preserve the present as ethical obligation in the form of Ellen Allien and the crowd, moving under rain, skies now clearing, continuing as may be, a work of art.

… More

July 23, 2022

Event 96: Travels in Reparative Space

Monday, June 21
Delta DTW > LHR [canceled]

Carla Harryman

What does it mean to travel? And what are the risks? You could hit an iceberg, for example. In this age of global devolution due to war, pandemic, climate change, and supply chain disruption, the risks are increasing. The magic “reward miles” that purchased at least one ticket were offset by ambiguous reentry requirements and increased insurance costs. Our awareness of global supply chain disruptions came with the brutal cancellation of our fully boarded flight. The air conditioning had heated up, needing to be replaced; the parts were in Atlanta, but no means to get them to Detroit; by the time they would arrive, crews had to rotate; no additional crews were available. By the time this was decided we had wandered the Detroit airport for some hours, only then to be automatically rebooked. The gap in expectations was predictive: this would be no easy trip, but still worth the attempt, we believed.

Tuesday, June 22
Delta DTW > IAD
Virgin IAD > LHR

Refreshed by an extra night of sleep before departure, we renewed the attempt. Now we are less concerned with global supply chains, as the aviation network is algorithmically rebooted to our advantage. Now it is a question of mask behavior and the algorithms of disease transmission. Universally, or in the metropole, the “unfulfilled democratic demands” for global travel had become a surge of pent-up consumerism; with the release from austerity, as a form of repression, off came the masks. They were no longer required to board a flight, nor were negative test results required for readmission, at least for passport holders. The politics of the New Normal are us. Willingly confined to our cubic meter of seating, we endured the deprivation of freedom as a contract with global mobility. One flight took us to the sterile, remodeled Dulles Airport, with many murals of JFK, and then onward to Heathrow, on an airline named for the “Virgin Queen” during the heydey of Thatcherism.

Wednesday, June 22
189 King’s Cross Road, London

“Surrealism Beyond Borders”
@ Tate Modern

Our trip was structured around several agendas: for me, catching up with global exhibitions, literary friends, and Berlin; for Carla additionally, a launch of Cloud Cantatas, published by Pamenar Press and delivered that very day in London. After presenting at last November’s virtual conference on surrealism, I had wanted to get to the New York version of the show before it closed in January at the Met, but omicron put an end to that. The Tate Modern was the next venue, the monumental showcase for New British Art responding to the global, decolonial imperative. To what extent this exhibition truly understood or could identify the theoretical horizons of the global dispersion of surrealism was, however, in doubt. Static art-historical orders of style and periodization remained in place, tending toward inadequately framed concepts of history and space. There were groups of painters in Mexico City or Cairo, for example, who carried on the tradition of group activity in surrealism. But what could be seen of the decolonial moment, precisely the moment of surrealism’s global dispersion through emigration and emulation after 1945? There was not nearly enough education on postcolonial liberation, not enough hard connection between the “inner” liberation of surrealism and the politics of liberation as a post-modernity. That said, there were many revisionist moments to be explored: the rise of an African-American “demotic” surrealism with Ted Joans, Amiri Baraka, and Bob Kaufman, for example; or the anti-Eurocentric contributions of second-wave women surrealists, from Leonora Carrington and Remedios Varo to Claude Cahun, Maya Deren, and Ithell Colquhoun, not to mention Lee Miller and Dorothea Tanning. But this was still surrealism as art history, alas. The lesson for global exhibitions is to radically contextualize the exemplary work in an unfolding horizon of global negativity—a globality that is not one thing.

… More

May 27, 2022

Event 95: I Met (Road Trip)

Sunday, May 15
> Buffalo

Kaplan Harris
Sarah Buckley

Getting on the road, I wrote on Facebook: “Turns out I am driving to Buffalo this very day. What sadness, so terrible. I am sure it is affecting everyone there.” After entering via the Peace Bridge, the first thing I saw was a block party in a Black neighborhood, conveying a somber tone of survival despite everything. Kaplan Harris and his partner Sarah greeted me with exceptional food and conversation, ranging from archives to prison abolition. Later, walking out in the Elmwood District, I wondered how it had been going in Buffalo since when. Everywhere is war, I hear the echoes of Bob Marley in my head as I walk by some loud partying. I exited next day through the fated neighborhood itself.

Monday, May 16
> Germantown/Brooklyn

Ann Lauterbach

Terrific storms accompanied my power drive through upstate New York, blasts of rain pelting in sheets creating maelstroms with each passing truck. Somewhere in the middle of the state, I stopped for gas to find an electrical glitch would not open the gas tank flap. There is no manual override. This event, dramatic perhaps only to myself, needed about an hour of phone calls to a long-distance service expert, after which I was able to re-set the circuit.  Coming down the Hudson and into Germantown, the rain accelerated to the point of zero visibility, in buckets of slushy hail. In from the storm, Ann Lauterbach greeted me from the porch of her restored schoolhouse down the road. Our elegant meeting, with an Italian white and hors d’oeuvre something like a mozzarelline fritte, but with a thicker, seasoned crust (help me out on this one, Ann), led to serious discussion of the crisis of the academy, seen from the perspectives of a liberal arts college and a working-class university. Of the many fine editions on display, I admired chapbooks of Eliot’s Little Gidding and Joyce’s Anna Livia Plurabelle (or was it Work in Progress—same thing). There was an altar to Ann’s friendship with Joe Brainard and portrait of her by Alex Katz. Back on the road, briefly clearing up, I had forgotten my umbrella. The Taconic Parkway beckoned to New York and the overpriced hotel, set between a dialysis center and U-Haul truck return, I had booked in Lower Park Slope.

… More

Event 94: I Met (Coastline)

Friday, April 29
Delta DTW > SFO

> Half Moon Bay/Carmel Valley

Carla Harryman

Saturday, April 30

Memorial for Tim Hill
28 July 1948–18 December 2020

Christine Watten
Jan Watten
Steve Nakashima
Emilie Watten-Imboden
Barbara Johnstone
Michael Pappas
Daniel Strauss
Caroline Strauss
Andrew Johnstone … More

March 19, 2022

Event 93: We Saw (Northern California)

After the Louisville Conference, with COVID numbers in decline, Carla and I headed west for a week on the coast. The trip was not simply restorative but repurposing, reconnecting with friends and family in real time, face to face. And so we saw them, in each instance redefining both time and events that have come between. These friends and family, of long standing and more recent acquaintance, are prime numbers, so to speak, in a series that has many twists and turns. Life histories and practices of art coincide with them, for which they are primes. As we know, a coastline is a fractal, as in the thumbnail sketches below:

Monday, February 28
Delta DTW > SFO
> San Francisco/Stinson Beach

Megan Adams/Camille Roy

Our first stop after arrival at SFO was with New Narrative author Megan Adams/Camille Roy, celebrating her just published collection of stories Honey Mine. We admired the art, light, rooms, and overgrown garden of her working-class mansion across from the thronged Daniel Webster School playground, where I first taught Poetry in the Schools. We then walked the streets of Potrero Hill, with its monuments to the history of Language writing still preserved at 235 Missouri Street, 326 Connecticut Street, and the public gym and soccer field at the top of the hill, where the competitive drives of young poets were at play. Just so, New Narrative and Language writing conjoin.

> Stinson Beach

… More

March 13, 2022

Event 92: I Met/I Heard (Louisville)

style=

The Louisville Conference
on Literature and Culture since 1900
24–26 February 2017
University of Louisville

Joseph Donahue
Adeena Karasick
Mark Scroggins
Alan Golding
Matthew Biberman
Lauri Scheyer
Judith Roof
Lynn Keller
Aldon Nielsen
Joseph Shafer
Joe Safdie
Jeff Davis
Lisa Shapiro
Norman Finkelstein
Alice Finkelstein
Joshua Corey
Robert Archambeau
Sally Connolly
David Kellogg
Tyrone Williams
Laura Vrana
Johnny Payne
V. Joshua Adams
Charles Altieri
Robert von Hallberg
Oren Izenberg
Rosanna Warren
Richard Strier
John Beer
Brenda Hillman
Kristi Maxwell
Brendan Johnston
W. Scott Howard
Addie Hopes
Peter O’Leary
Stephen Williams
Shannon Tharp
Alicia Wright
Justin Wymer
Leah Nieboer
Benjamin Lee
Karen Hadley
Ali Altaf Mian
Suzette Henke
Ann Hall

 

Notes and links

Photos: Matthew Biberman

[t/k]

December 18, 2021

Event 90: I Met (en España)

I first got to know Claudia Franken through academic channels; she is a Europe-based scholar of Gertrude Stein and Arno Schmidt, a less-well-known prose writer who anticipates American postmoderns such as Thomas Pynchon. As his Wikipedia entry states, “Arno Schmidt (1914–79) was a German author and translator. He is little known outside of German-speaking areas, in part because his works present a formidable challenge to translators.” Claudia’s proposal for a session on “Avant-Gardes @ Zero Hour” took up Schmidt’s early “trilogy” of novellas focusing on cultural displacement after 1945, pursued by analogies to Egyptian and Phoenician antiquity—as if the two time frames were disturbingly (felicitously) co-present (see John E. Woods’s unequaled translation). The conference itself was canceled due to COVID but was revived as a webinar in March 2021, where Claudia presented her work on Schmidt—in a form, on first hearing, that was as allegorically complex as Schmidt’s work itself. I then engaged Claudia’s essay editorially, working toward publication in the Hunan, China-based Journal of Foreign Languages and Cultures, where it appears (here). All this is complicated, but is what it takes to get the work done in this era of travel restrictions and ideological blockage. What resulted is a fine literary essay that the editors selected to inaugurate their issue. … More

December 8, 2021

Event 89: I Met (Metropole)

I return here to the series of “I Met” posts, begun in January 2010 after the work of On Kawara. In a series of journal entries, On Kawara documented his life in art as identical to the names, location, and dates of his dealers, contacts, and friends, giving no further interpretation. Thus he interpreted his life as identical to his art, and his art as identical to its names, locations, and dates. This project is unique, and must be so, in its radicality; it is an essay on meaning as a “restricted code” that is at the same time a subtext of the public exhibition of his iconic works and the private circulation of artistic property (as I found when permission to reproduce one of his date paintings for Questions of Poetics was denied). In my entries, the purely conceptual project undergoes mutation to the forms of life and art I inhabit while still focusing on the intersection of names, locations, dates. At one point, the series achieved a kind of “feedback” state, as when people I met at conferences or readings would ask if there going to be an “I Met” for the event; alternately, for more than two years this form of work has been nearly impossible.

Wednesday, October 6
Delta DTW > LGA

Carla Harryman

Lisa Yuskavage @ David Zwirner
Jesse Murry @ David Zwirner
Alice Neel @ David Zwirner
Frank Moore @ David Zwirner
Tyler Mitchell @ Jack Shainman
John Currin @ Gagosian
Philip Guston @ Hauser & Wirth
Robert Rauschenberg @ Pace
Robert Longo @ Pace
Jeanne Liotta @ Microscope Gallery

Michael Gottlieb & Josef Kaplan
@ St. Mark’s Church

James Sherry
Lee Ann Brown
Tony Torn
Brenda Coultas
Drew Gardner
Kyle Dacuyan … More

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