Showing posts with label heroes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heroes. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

we move


To Merce Cunningham, one of the 20th century's greatest dancers and choreographers, this simple fact was cause for celebration, reflection, and his life's work. He died on Sunday at the age of ninety, still dancing into his 70's and still active in the dance world until his death, choreographing work that will long outlive him. His enduring legacy will mostly be defined by his insistence that movement, in and of itself, is enough to justify the art of dance. This was a revolutionary idea when he entered the dance world in 1939, when conventional wisdom held that dance needed to follow and depict a narrative. (Just as today few in our culture, perhaps poets alone, it sometimes seems, and perhaps not even all poets, understand that poetry can be experienced primarily through sound, and even if there is no clear, easily deciphered, or linear narrative or "meaning," a good poem always offers something to savor: the sound of words.) Cunningham's was a sensual world and to enter it was to be elevated into a closer relationship with one's own body and senses.

His impact also includes his frequent collaborations with artists of other genres, including musicians, visual artists, poets, and architects. Again, this was a new idea when Cunningham was discovered by the modern dance pioneer, Martha Graham in the 1940's. Still today such collaborations are rare. Below is a video of his work with the artist with whom he created dozens of collaborations, the musician John Cage, who was also his life partner for five decades until Cage's death in 1992. Their work together included the innovative practice of Cage composing music and Cunningham choreographing dance independently of each other and then performing the two simultaneously on stage.  


  


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(Also see Merce Cunningham Dance Company and Mr. Cunningham's essay, "Space, Time, and Dance.")

Saturday, June 28, 2008

you lost a lot when you lost me

* George Carlin 1937-2008


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(All of the above quotes link to an article about George Carlin or a transcript of one of his monologues. Particularly good, I think, is the Rolling Stone magazine article and interview from 1972 which is linked to from the fourth quote -- "I think it's the duty..." -- and a transcript of his famous monologue, "Filthy Words," better known as "Seven Dirty Words," which the FCC took all the way to the Supreme Court, which is linked to from the sixth quote, "By and large...")
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Wednesday, August 08, 2007

current favorite things




Words: Whereas by supposing they have given up themselves to the absolute arbitrary power and will of a legislator, they have disarmed themselves, and armed him to make a prey of them when he pleases. - John Locke

All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent. - Thomas Jefferson

Art: Mel Kadel (un-scared, above) (see more of her work or buy a t-shirt here)

Books: The Assault on Reason, by Al Gore (a must must read; the likes of Locke and Jefferson would bow.)
This Clumsy Living, by Bob Hicok (blistering, tender, "a softness of phantom limbs marching through the forest," a shiver, an assault on silence, a brilliant ballet of words, life on a page.)

Music: Beautiful Maladies, by Tom Waits, and his song "Hold On" (God bless your crooked little heart) ; The Wishing Chair, by 10,000 Maniacs (a for-as-long-as-I-can-remember-favorite, favorite again, like a lot of these actually); Death Cab for Cutie's self-titled cd; the somewhat stray Alanis Morrisette songs "Offer," and "Still" (Her perception of God -- I am the harm which you inflict, I am your brilliance and frustration, I'm the nuclear bombs if they're to hit... I am your misfits and your praised, I am your grasping and expectation. I see you cheering on the war, I see you ignoring your children, I see you abusing the land, I see you and your selective amnesia, And I love you still. I am your fury and your elation, I am your yearning and your sweat... I am your crisis and delight, I am your death and your decisions, I am your passion and your plights. I see you holding your grudges, I see you gunning them down, I see you silencing your sisters, I see you lie to your country, and forcing them out. I see you blaming each other, And I love you still.) Oh, and once again, and again & again & again... Whatever, by Aimee Mann, super especially "I've Had It." (Listen to some or all of the cd here.)

Observations: My cat Ruby has learned how to chase her tail in the conventional way -- circles that are horizontal to the floor. Up until today, she always did it in a way that I've never seen another cat attempt -- 'like doing somersaults, 'circles that were verticle to the floor. (She is soooo entertaining.) Fortunately, despite her newly gained knowledge, she seems to prefer her own unique brand of tail-chasing. (I like that I've raised a cat who thinks for herself. *grin*)

Watching my neices and nephews growing up. (And come to think of it, it's pretty rewarding when I give myself the opportunity to watch myself grow up, as well.)

People: My eighteen-year-old neice; a baby named Kendall 's mom, my old and new friend, Stephanie; John Edwards, Al Gore.

New Find:The Journal of Aesthetics & Protest


Monday, July 02, 2007

some new favorite things





  • Words: The most recent issues of The Southern Poetry Review and Agni; The Great Shame byThomas Kineally; the poem/chapbook October by Louise Gluck; poets Jack Boettcher, Elizabeth Volpe, Alex Stolis, and all the work in the most recent issue of Siren

  • Music: The soundtrack to the film Prairie Home Companion; some old music from the 80's that I hadn't listened to in a long time, like Robyn Hitchcock and the Throwing Muses; "Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon," by Urge Overkill, "Flinch," by Alanis Morisette, "Waiting on a Friend," by Rolling Stones (one of my favorite songs since I was about five but hadn't listened to it in a while), and "Extraordinary Machine," by Fiona Apple.

  • Art: Caravaggio

  • Film: The Land Girls; The Fever; Sicko

  • People: a baby named Kendall; John Edwards

  • Miscellany: The squirrels and chipmunks (which I found out are actually a type of squirrel, or so I think says one of my college animal behavior textbooks when it says "genus Tamias") that live or at least hang out in my backyard and under my back porch, especially this one little black squirrel (my favorites) who is not at all shy and that I could watch for hours. He runs up this huge tree and then right back down, and then about ten yards and under my porch, where he'll be for about a minute and then right back to the tree, repeating the whole thing over again and again. And I swear he works in tandem with this little chipmunk out there. The best thing is that when I go to get into my car, there are always a bunch of empty peanut shells all around my car -- and on my car, especially in this space right below the wondshield wipers. Jezebel and Rubyfruit Lulu (my cats) also like watching them from a window or behind the storm door or whatever those outside-the-regular-door doors are called -- their heads going from right to left to right, back and forth, 'completely absorbed. The only downside to all of this is that now, everyday, as soon as the sun comes up, and I do mean as soon as, Ruby wakes me up by running over me like I'm furniture, and then by going and sitting by the back door and crying until I get up and open the door so she can watch all these little animals out there. So now, instead of waking up at about 8 to get ready, or 11 on weekends, I'm awake by 6:00 in the morning, which is an ungodly early hour, and which cuts into me watching Charlie Rose the night before (on from 11:30 -12:30), because I just can't stay awake past midnight. And missing Charlie Rose makes me cranky. But I can sit on my back porch or in the grass under the sun when I get cranky -- and watch the squirrels, which is so therapeutic, so it all works out. What I'm losing in terms of intellect maybe I'll gain in peace of mind. Hmmm.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

My Fair City


My hometown... where sites like this are not uncommon. Unfortunately I didn't have the right kind of camera or film to get everything into this photo. Oh, yes, there was more. (And notice the brick -- even it is black and gold.)

Football season officially started last week, with the Steelers winning, of course, 28-14. However, this house was fully decked out before the pre-season even started. Such is life in the beautiful, exciting, boring, ethnic, aging, always renewing, former milltown, still-culturally-milltown, of the Rust Belt, and it is amusing, entertaining, and a sociological, cultural-anthropological gem. And no researcher or observer could even start to understand it without taking a really thorough look at its most rabid and most unifying and perhaps most central phenomenon: the city's relationship with its beloved Steelers.

'Strange post for a poetry site? Well, yes, but this poet grew up in Pittsburgh. And contradictory or odd as it might seem, along with my heroes such as Anne Sexton, Allen Ginsburg, Gwendolyn Brooks, Emily Dickinson, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Mikhael Baryshnikov, James Madison, Martha Graham, Erik Erickson, Frederick Douglass, Clarence Darrow, Frida Kahlo, and Subcommidante Marcos, are names like Mean Joe Greene, Jerome "The Bus" Bettis, Franco Harris, Heinz Ward, and Troy Palamalu. Go Steelers, and cliche as it is, you're poetry in motion.