Lesson 7

Some art forms like watercolor rely on chance, or the planned accidents. I’ve always felt that art is a balance of relinquishing control, and yet giving something direction. However, in the instance of n+7 I feel a little uneasy about the control that is given up. There are moments where I can’t shake the mad libs, and say here this is mine.

Perhaps we’ve had it wrong all along. Just like some lesbians, or gays don’t like labels, or stamps that say here I define you, so is art. Perhaps we should stop labeling people as artists, or audiences, and just stick to participants. Maybe all along we have been engaged in this prestige of titles, but with the evolution of art the line between has blurred to point where it truly is just a matter of the amount of participation.

Still I am bothered with the lack of control I have. What part of it belongs to me? I am just the catalyst. A cheat at worst who reworks someone else’s piece in an attempt to make it new. How presumptuous though. How dare I, and accompany that with the insinuation that just a part of it is mine? I could no more claim to be the author of evolution.

Anyway I have decided to tackle the Jabberwocky. It’s such a wonderful poem all hail Lewis Caroll. A link to the original can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jabberwocky . One note I would like to make is that this poem is almost completely comprised of made up words, but surprisingly the reader still understands its basic function. That being said I went to the part of the dictionary where the word would have been and went from there. I guess I just thought that this technique would be a perfect example of how sometimes real words ruin good writing. On a lighter note, I did realize that with that some words are just as strange if not stranger then the original made up words

The Jabiru

'Twas brillig, and the slithy towel

Did gyre and gimble in the wad;
All mimsy were the boric,
And the moly rathskellers outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabiru, my somewhat!
The jays that bite, the clause that catch!
Beware the Juju biotite, and shun
The frumious Banderole!"

He took his vorpal swizzle in hamulus:
Long time the manxome foehn he sought—
So rested he by the Tularemia trecento,
And stood awhile in thou

And as in uffish thou he stood,
The Jabiru, with eyas of flamebeau,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wont,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal bladderwort went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its headache
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jaberui?
Come to my armadas, my beamish boyar!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his jowl.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy towel

Did gyre and gimble in the wad;
All mimsy were the boric,
And the moly rathskellers outgrabe.

Lesson Six

Using only letters from the popular salutation “To Whom it May Concern” I have created a short letter. There were a couple words I missed dearly. I struggled with weather is should make sense. In the end I chose what was hardest. I have found a new respect for the difficulty of a project like this.


To Whom it May Concern:

I hear the cancer moan.
It ate my tit
We watch it tear at the net.
I warn it not to war with me
Yet in my cocoon I hear it crow
It came to tow me home.


I think it might be interesting to create a small collection of these poems, that are all letters created from, To Whom it May Concern

Lesson 5 Response

I feel like after spending so much time studying conceptual art, that there comes a point where it all begins to blur together. I become confused between the differences between different styles because all I see are different concepts that are built around the architecture of a piece. I constantly feel that there is a requirement to judge, appreciate, or experience a conceptual poem on its own level, like you would appreciate a child’s drawing for what it was in comparison to other children’s drawings. I am not saying this is a bad thing, on the contrary, how great would the world be if we looked at it in the spirit in which it was created? For the record I am not really sure what Oulipo is yet, and will read on to get a better grasp of it.

Dadaism Response

Lately Dada has seemed to be experiencing a rebirth, at least as far as a curriculum in college courses go. Perhaps because at that time of its conception people were recoiling from the war, and yet again our history finds us again reacting to a wartime culture. However time and time again I read in Dadaist theory the desire to be removed from the emotional realm to an intellectual one. Dadaist also feel the need to question large intuitions like government, art museums, military, or any large establishment that is considered the authority on certain topics. It would stand to reason that emotional tactics would not be affective when challenging a predominant way of thinking.

For instance The Fountain by Duchamp is often considered the epitome of Dadaist art because he effectively pointed out that the Museum, and in a larger sense the traditional art world had a claim to defining what was and wasn’t art. The Fountain is really a statement saying to conformity you can’t tell me how to think, and what to love.

It is incredibly liberating to transform documents like court papers, teachers notes, emails, bills, and any other piece of writing into poetry, and therefore create a perspective on it. Perhaps when the artist removes himself/herself emotionally from a piece the audience suddenly has more freedom to feel whatever it is they want to without having the artist manipulate their psyche.
Here is a readymade that I have created in honor of Duchamp from The Richard Mutt Case: Looking for Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain by Mechael Betancourt. The poem is constructed from a paragraph in which Betancourt summarizes what the Fountain is. In the spirit of collage, I start with the end of the paragraph and work my way to the beginning. Because in The Fountain Duchamp chooses anonymity when signing his work, I replicate that by crossing out any mention of him or his pseudonym. The reader is asked to understand he is there but not acknowledge his presence.

Apparently there was no actual R. Mutt.
an association with the Mutt and Jeff cartoons
pseudonym of Marcel Duchamp [4] composed out of
"R. Mutt" or "Richard Mutt" is believed to be a
because of its shifted arrangement (turned sideways).
because of the added inscription "R. Mutt 1917"

. Fountain belongs in this grouping both
Nothing to do with Savagery, 1916)[3]
both have inscriptions
Comb (for dogs) (3 or 4 Drops of Height Have
(In Advance of the Broken Arm, 1915) and
color at the horizon; the "snow shovel"
(1914) he has added two small spots of
Duchamp has made an alteration: to Pharmacy

"ready-made-aided." These are objects to which Duchamp
.[2] Fountain likely belongs to the
he admits for their selection.[2]
lack aesthetic qualities: this was the sole criterion
reaction to them; for him these objects
objects based on his not having an aesthetic

Duchamp claimed to select these
applied to them. It is well-known that
categories based on the degree of alteration
the 1910s and '20s. He divides them into smaller
New York during the
"ready-mades" which Marcel Duchamp created
to a broad category of objects called
the wall becomes its base, and belongs
turned so that the surface mounted on
Fountain is a men's urinal


The original paragraph:
http://www.artscienceresearchlab.org/articles/betacourt.htm



Fountain is a men's urinal turned so that the surface mounted on the wall becomes its base, and belongs to a broad category of objects called "ready-mades" which Marcel Duchamp created in New York during the 1910s and '20s. He divides them into smaller categories based on the degree of alteration applied to them. It is well-known that Duchamp claimed to select these objects based on his not having an aesthetic reaction to them; for him these objects lack aesthetic qualities: this was the sole criterion he admits for their selection.[2] Fountain likely belongs to the "ready-made-aided." These are objects to which Duchamp has made an alteration: to Pharmacy (1914) he has added two small spots of color at the horizon; the "snow shovel" (In Advance of the Broken Arm, 1915) and Comb (for dogs) (3 or 4 Drops of Height Have Nothing to do with Savagery, 1916)[3] both have inscriptions. Fountain belongs in this grouping both because of the added inscription "R. Mutt 1917" and because of its shifted arrangement (turned sideways). "R. Mutt" or "Richard Mutt" is believed to be a pseudonym of Marcel Duchamp [4] composed out of an association with the Mutt and Jeff cartoons. Apparently there was no actual R. Mutt.

Assignment One

My name is Cassandra. My disease is wonder lust. I question if the best poets are always in transition or can see a stoplight in a thousand different beautiful ways. Right now it is Colorado, two weeks ago it was Texas, and 4 months ago it was Oregon. Each time I promise this time I will really try.

About the concepts of poetry: What is poetry without spontaneity? Does it not lose its soul if it becomes a heavily constructed concept or frame for its intellectual prowess? On the other hand without our censor, how can the unimportant be filtered to give power to the focus. Often it seems that artists are admired by less artistically brilliant intellectuals, and those intellectuals try to duplicate that art but do so on a cerebral level because they cannot connect with the emotional context. To me this is what procedural writing can be at its worst. At its best it is a pure vein of thought not biased by sentiment.

Paper planes,
Paper thoughts
Paper loves
Crumple little plans
Wrinkled secrets
Get well soon they say
Love always
Sincerely,
Yours truly