Anecdoted Topography of Chance

It’s interesting how items flow in and out of our lives without much thought, or perhaps an item holds a specific memory or point of origin. What value do these items hold? Daniel Spoerri’s Topography is a chronicle of objects. Assorted, somewhat random, but nevertheless present, on a table. He provides context and memories associated with these items, which are then commented on/responded to/further annotated by his friends. One part game, one part primitive social media, it’s an artist book that displays relationships between items and memories, usage and value, yielding a map that transcends the simple person to object relationship into a wider web of connectivity, purpose, and meaning.

Lenz

 

Whether you consider this effort a novella or “fragment” Büchner’s piece of docufiction explores aspects of Lenz’s existence, drawing from personal accounts and reflections with Lenz—namely JF Oberlin’s diary and reflections by Goethe of his time and correspondence with Lenz.

One of the elements that draws me to this work is the mental health aspect. It’s interesting to consider the progress of treatment and care of those with mental illness through the centuries, and on a deeper level, how society handles (or doesn’t handle) [attempted] suicide. While I’m sure Büchner took poetic liberties in his work, Lenz’s position calls attention to degrees of suffering and affliction. For someone whose “universe was an open wound” there’s a lot to consider.

Etel Adnan: Shifting the Silence

“Yes. The shifting, after the return of the tide, and my own. A question rushes out of the stillness, and then advances an inch at a time: has this day ever been before, or has it risen from the shallows, from a line, a sound?”

So begins Adnan’s beautiful meditation on aging. To acknowledge we get old is one thing, but to come to terms with the lives we live, our decisions, and where we stand long after the events/moments have passed isn’t necessarily easy.

Styled in short paragraphs, this philo-poetic approach slowly uncovers the reflection and understanding of teetering the line between life and death, acknowledging the slow crawl towards death, and finding value in the present moment.

I’ve come to admire Adnan’s philosophical and reflective approach. In thinking about philo-poetics as a whole within style/form/practice, I’ve seen a range of styles that heavily reference philosophers or cultural figures to drive the poetic narrative, but it’s nice to get a more personal approach; and even though there are references and parallels to locations and events, the overall experience is more accessible to the reader.

The Hundred Headless Woman

 “Perturbation, my sister, the hundred headless woman.”

When one thinks of Max Ernst, one might reflect upon his paintings, his role in surrealism, and maybe even his love affairs. But his collage novels are unique experiences. The Hundred Headless Woman was published in 1929, comprising of engraved collages from old Victorian books and magazines. André Breton, who wrote the introduction, sang its praises, and while today we can consider it as a precursor to the graphic novel, this is a volume that remains a classic in and of itself.

“So who is the hundred headless woman?” You might ask. Well, there’s no simple answer. From what I gathered, she’s one part cosmic entity, one part harbinger of fate, and maybe one part amoral. For all that we see and feel of her presence, mystery surrounds her. “The eye without eyes” who moves through landscapes, the woman who “opens her august sleeve” when manifesting/witnessing events, and the woman who always seems to “keep her secret.”

Though separated into chapters, there really isn’t a plot. Loose structure, maybe. But really it’s about the reader becoming entranced with the images, allowing the associated captions to blend and merge but not completely fuel interpretation. A great addition to a bookshelf of surreal literature.

Mirtha Dermisache: Selected Writings

To the uninitiated, it’s easy to categorize asemic writing as generic markings, scratches and blots that carry aesthetic weight without much meaning and intent. But asemic writing is more than just aesthetics, it’s a graphic form of communication, mimicking language as we know and understand it, using marks to convey ideas and motifs. Illegible these forms may be, their construction opens up a space for the readers to view and interpret possibilities within given forms.

For Dermisache, it’s about movement. “Graphically speaking, every time I start writing I develop a formal idea that can be transformed into the idea of time.” Adding the framework of literary categories like “books” and “texts” to titles keep the works from falling completely into the art realm, opening themselves up to being collected for publication and distribution rather than formal gallery presentation.

I first came across Dermisache’s work in Primary Information’s Women in Concrete Poetry anthology and wanted to seek out more of her work. While there’s not a lot of supplementary information (it would have been nice), this volume does offer a varied sampling of her work, including a selection of 16 texts and two full book collections. Good for those looking to expand horizons, good for the uninitiated who are curious, and good for those who seek more.

Jim Dine: This Goofy Life of Constant Mourning

If ever there was a testament to the combination of poetry, photography, and the emotional resonance of a handwritten message, this book would be a strong (if not definitive) contender. Essentially one long visual poem, handwritten passages on various objects: walls, bedsheets, pillows, fences, sidewalks, chalkboards, paper (you get the idea) set the stage, but what really ups the ante here is the use of photography to balance out the emotions.

Wide overview shots give us the overall message but different views/angles offer different perspectives; sometimes wordplay renders different contexts within closeup shots, passages that are written over in paint or another form of ink, and lines that blend together give rise to new patterns in a passage’s form and structure (is there a proper way to read?). The reader becomes a victim of the frame, a silent witness to the rollercoaster of emotions that unfold in different readings, in different compositions.

The other aspect is the whole still life setup. Sometimes these passages are supplemented with still life objects: skulls, dolls, animals, and self-portraits, the added dimension of vanitas, reflecting a certain transience and fragility of life; grains of emotion that add that extra bit of emotional depth.

And the handwriting itself, perhaps most noticeable in the extreme closeups, the one or two word phrases that reveal the intensity of the written word. Handwriting can hold a lot of emotion, the intensity of the lines, the direction and angle of the lettering, the structure (curvature of the cursive) of the letter against the object can say a lot about one’s emotional intent in writing; and that, I think, holds the value. The examination in not just in what is being said, but how the words are being conveyed and presented to reflect a state of mind.

Remedios Varo: Letters, Dreams & Other Writings

I’m fascinated by how artists—and by extension surreal artists—handle their various creative outlets in fueling inspiration and their ways of living. Normally this is through published interviews and articles, but there’s a bit of a voyeuristic element when those collected writings have been internal and were never really meant for public consumption. I don’t think there’s any doubt about Varo’s reputation as a surrealist artist (I’d argue a household name) but looking into her written work is like opening up a portal to another dimension.

Fragments, dreams, future project ideas, correspondence, explanations of some of her paintings, and even an unpublished interview enhance the artist’s profile as a creator, someone who embraced surrealism as a lifestyle.

This volume adds depth to the whole picture, providing a human (even if left field) approach to the line between life and art, magic and grounded reality. It’s a unique perspective, showing us a more intimate side to the artist as a person, and the limitless ways creativity can add dimension to being alive and impacting the lives of others.