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We are currently accepting submissions for our inaugural Book Contest judged by Forrest Gander for Poetry, Hybrid or Translation Manuscripts. Deadline is June 25th, 2014. We are also accepting submissions for Poetry, Reviews, Translation, Fiction, Art, and Nonfiction (deadlines as noted per genre).

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Radha Says

The final collection by award-winning poet Reetika Vazirani, published by Drunken Boat.

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Hide-and-Seek-Muse

Annotations of contemporary poetry edited by Lisa Russ Spaar, published by Drunken Boat.

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In the spirit of my last post, I am opening the literal pages of my notebook as a record of sitting, listening, thinking. Instead of forcing a cohesion of my experiences, I have kept them true to their form and fragmented as an experiment. The notes always seem to suggest that I have more to say, that the readings and performances and studio practice are affecting a profound response, but that it falls just short of articulation. There is never enough time in the moment, and even when I revisit an experience, there might not be enough time to reflect. This record does, however, show that I am constantly living in relation to a constellation of artists and scholars who appear in and disappear from the physical world, but whose impact reappears in my thinking, or somewhere in my body-mind that writing might not be able to access.

The following notes were written right before leaving places like the Poetry Project or my rehearsal space in Long Island City, or on an L or J train back to Brooklyn late at night. At that point, usually everyone is drunk, wandering into the car. I might or might not be. I take out my notebook and attempt to hover over it without anyone shoving themselves into me, or falling over my lap. I write somewhat legibly, I don’t care if people can read it over my shoulder, or while looking down on it from the railing. Nothing is more private than being surrounded by people who don’t give a shit what you’re doing. Sometimes this is magic, and sometimes someone does fall on me, or some guy squeezes in next to me and spreads his knees out so my notebook is jammed between his knee and my lap, and then it’s just not worth it. Unless I wrote in it on his knee, or on his lap, but at that point I want to get the hell away from that guy. Phenomena like the belligerent-asshole-leg-spread happen to everyone on the train, but not everyone is trying to write something important at a time like that like I am. Then a stranger not giving a shit about you becomes violating. Then I have to stop writing and pray that there will be a time when I get back to that thought. But many times I can’t go back to it.

 

Various abridged notes from 2.5.14 to 3.31.14

 

Leonard_Z_jpeg.jpg

Installation view 945 Madison Avenue, 2014, lens and darkened room by Zoe Leonard. Whitney Biennial 2014, Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, March 7- May 25 2014. Photograph by Bill Orcutt. http://artbooks.yupnet.org

 

2.5.14

 

Gregg Bordowitz reading at Poetry Proj

 

“inviolate”

 

Zoe Leonard –  to possess solitude: the fullness of a building

 

‘cairn’

 

“the forest is a hospital”

 

“magicked”

 

“how through patience we become a patient”

 

“a pronoun blossoming into fragrant dissipation”

 

 

2.7.14

 

I feel like I need to write about Maggie Nelson’s reading.

 

Was sent into trance.

 

Changed everything.

 

 

JMSaveTheDate.jpg

 

 

2.8.14

 

I never got write about Maggie yesterday. My hip was swollen again.

 

money.

 

e-mail. narrative bio. eat.

 

so much death this month, I can’t believe it.

 

it was José Muñoz’s memorial this morning. Swelling turned into the familiar hip pain.

 

…I couldn’t take mourning…

 

It crept up on me last night and I felt like I needed to hold on

 

 

2.21.14

 

rehearsal day 1:

 

being alone moving through oppressive scenes

 

then moving through pastoral scenes

 

maybe I need to be the voice of the father?

 

being able to be in a state while eating or taking the train

 

a mask of hands

 

pubic bone-chest-head [that is a score for a piece of choreography that I don’t remember]

 

 

2.26.14

 

iele:

 

13 is Venus’ #

 

lines of Venus create a pentagram

 

fire and empathic company reduces earth and metal

 

don’t be wary of dependency it’s ok

 

 

2.28.14

 

rehearsal:

 

*manatee move on the floor*

 

room was dissolving and everything was the seabed

 

 

3.5.14

 

Thomas McEvilley Memorial at Poetry Proj.

 

“performance art began with the cynic”

 

“a mark is made and its meaning is discussed for 50,000 years”

 

T. M. walked the Great Wall with Marina and Ulay

 

Marina’s 21 grams: he must have been storing and expired much more than 21 grams of energy because he was limitless

“every self is an other to every other self”

 

2014-2610_0342.jpg

Sunny in the Furnace by Aki Sasamoto. March 6 – 8, 2014 at The Kitchen. Photography by Julieta Cervantes. http://cargocollective.com/akisasamoto

 

 

3.8.14

 

Art O.D. (Armory) but redeemed by Aki Sasamoto’s show at the Kitchen!

 

I need to write more.

 

I need to make some more stacked pieces.

 

pearlescent

 

opalescent

 

yellow? resin?

 

pink? pastels?

 

Make tasks.

 

Sections I know |________________________| my original story

 

                                       the overlap                    narrative parts

 

3.12.14

 

Thinking about Jamie with me in the studio. I never wrote about it before.

 

How can he be set into motion?

 

And the poem and me?

 

Me ~ uncontrolled ~ catalyst

 

how to sit inside something;

 

sit inside a poem?

 

or how can J sit inside a dance?

 

Or how can we sit inside each other’s forms?

 

((yellow socks))

 

shapes of light

 

 

tumblr_n2hc98lb7F1rsbjfio1_500.jpg

My Barbarian performing The Mother and Other Plays, an adaptation of Bertolt Brecht’s The Mother. http://whitneymuseum.tumblr.com

 

 

3.20.14

 

My Barbarian – “The Mother” Whitney Bi

 

Radical negativity ~ estranged subjectivity

 

votes

 

-teachers

-babies

 

((((alienation)))

 

                                 as the nexus

 

marxism v. modernism

 

musical |_____________________| class struggle

 

                   dirty materialism

 

                                     (Malik Gaines’ voice breaks my heart to bits)

 

audience member waves flag

 

we are all the mother

 

 

3.23.14

 

Using my Body!!!!!

 

 

3.25 – 3.28.14

 

[Lists of books for a freelance research project. Some are just authors, some are catalog numbers for NYPL]

 

Huey Copeland

 

                                                         Huey Copeland references

Schneider

 

Phelan

 

Fusco

 

Tavia Nyong’o

 

Jones

 

Issues in curating cont art perf

JQZ-12-1388 use in lib

rm 300

 

no more drama – [what? this is an actual book about theater]

in lib use

 

Phelan

 

Phelan

 

To Do:

 

yo yo labs        drunken boat

 

danspace project    margit galanter

 

Mucus Factory.jpg

Mucus Factory by Martin O’Brien http://www.londonsartistquarter.org

 

3.29.14

 

Acess All Areas: Live Art and Disability at Abrons

 

Martin O’Brien

 

chest glitter and red

 

small vials of mucus

 

silver trampoline

 

10-12 vials

 

chest beaten to the ribs and the shape of his lungs

 

strands of mucus from vials across his body through his hair

 

ventilator up the ass for a very long time

 

 

3.30.14

 

I need to talk about the event at Abrons yesterday and how it affected me.

 

I need to process the intimacy and the language.

 

I learned something that I desperately needed, but how do I apply it to my life?

 

 

3.31.14

 

Amanda Cachia, “performing crip time”

                                          reorienting time – queer temporality and crip time renders time queer

body out of joint ~ dislocation ~ creates new definition of time where

liminal positions give an advantage

 

CROPOS credit Hydar Dewachtwo.jpg

One Morning in May by Noemi Lakmaier. Photography by Hadar Dawachi. ttps://www.artsadmin.co.uk

 

 

                                                                                                                                     “taboo choreography”

 

“Bedding In Bedding Out” by Liz Crowe

 

crip aesthetics transform space to fit the body

 

Carrie Sandahl, “Too Much Information” lecture

 

passing the word as form of culture

 

needs as world shaping

 

Laura Hershey, “we teach each other how to live”

 

Mat Fraser – create a picture of disability that is not painted by mainstream media

to make an archive so younger artists will exceed him – where is the next generation?

 

 

- MARISSA PEREL

Marissa Perel is a Brooklyn based artist and writer. Her working method is interdisciplinary and includes performance, installation, video, text, collaboration and curating. Her work has been widely shown in New York and abroad, and her criticism has been published on many on-line platforms. She originated the column, Gimme Shelter: Performance Now on the Art21 blog, and was an editor of Critical Correspondence, the on-line dance and performance journal of Movement Research. She has contributed to the Performance Club, Bomblog, Bad At Sports, and Tarpaulin Sky, among others. www.marissaperel.com

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Published Apr 08, 2014 - Comments? None yet


WHITE FIRE:

A MIDRASH WRITING WORKSHOP

 

with Alicia Ostriker

 

 

An opportunity for a one-time workshop with Alicia Ostriker. You don’t need to be Jewish to attend. 

Thursday, April 3, 5:00 to 6:30 pm

 

at

 

Drisha Institute for Jewish Education

37 West 65th Street, 5th floor

New York, NY  10023

The role of midrash in Jewish tradition is both communal and personal.  When we create new midrash in response to our own spiritual and psychic needs, we are simultaneously adding to and transforming the tradition, growing new twigs on the Tree of Life. This generative workshop is designed for writers and artists who seek to explore Torah as a source for their creative projects, as well as for teachers and therapists who may want to learn how to facilitate the creation of midrash by students and clients.

 

Alicia Ostriker is a poet, critic and midrashist. Twice a finalist for the National Book Award for poetry, she is also the author ofFeminist Revision and the Bible (1992), The Nakedness of the Fathers: Biblical Visions and Re-visions (1994) and For the Love of God; the Bible as an Open Book (2007).  She has received awards from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Guggenheim Foundation, the Poetry Society of America, and the Rockefeller Foundation.  Her poetry has been translated into many languages including Hebrew and Arabic, and has appeared in numerous Jewish anthologies and journals.  She received the 2010 National Jewish Book Award in Poetry for The Book of Seventy, and was named in a list of “10 Great Jewish Poets” in Moment. A Professor Emerita of English and Creative Writing at Rutgers University, Ostriker teaches a monthly midrash writing workshop in NYC.

                                               

 

WORKSHOP FEE: $20; $10 students

FREE FOR CURRENT DRISHA STUDENTS/ ALUMNAE

For more information, please email Amy Gottlieb: gottlieb36@gmail.com

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Published Apr 03, 2014 - Comments? None yet

In my daily life, I’m a juggler.  I constantly am juggling work—my day job and Kundiman, the nonprofit I co-founded—my marriage, social life, other responsibilities, and writing.  Thankfully, I live in New York City and mostly commute by subway; hence, I have a built-in time for reading.

 

Here are five titles I’m currently juggling.

 

Poetry:

3 Sections by Vijay Seshadri (Graywolf): idiosyncratic verse that is existential yet conversational; poems that are cantankerous as they are humorous; scientific language colliding with the vernacular.  Seshadri is a witty, rollercoaster, fun read.

 

not so, sea by Mg Roberts (Durga Press): full disclosure, I blurbed this collection, however, upon rereading it I’m struck again by the beauty and experiment of Roberts’ language.  She delves into matrilineal discourse, questioning and evoking in her non-lineal fashion, taking on everything from immigration, memory and the intricacies of mother-daughter relationships.

 

Fiction:

The Stranger’s Child by Alan Hollinghurst (Vintage): I might be overreaching, but Hollinghurst to me is the Jane Austen of our contemporary time, or at least of the gay set.  His observation on manners in this sweeping novel is spot on.

 

Nonfiction:

Random Family: Love, Drugs, Trouble, and Coming of Age in the Bronx by Adrian Nicole LeBlanc (Scribner): I’m late to this excellent account of the struggles growing up in the South Bronx, one of the most impoverished neighborhoods in the nation.  Published a decade ago, set in the 80s, the individuals depicted in the book are around my age, and only by some unknown twist of fate did we arrive at different stations in life.  What’s special about Random Family is the depiction and honoring of the subjects’ personal points of view.  A heart-rending, important book.

 

The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History by Elizabeth Kolbert  (Henry Holt): waiting on the wing, Kolbert is a favorite (science) writer, and I had read an excerpt from this book in The New Yorker.  What are we doing to the planet?  Are the damages irreversible?  Kolbert possesses such skill for dissecting scientific facts and presenting them in lay terms—that even I can understand!

 

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Published Apr 03, 2014 - Comments? None yet

The spotlight comes to rest this week on a vibrant, cheeky prose piece from one of our more recent issues, DB 16, Winter 2012. Click the link below to read “Introducing Colors That Men Can Say Out Loud” by Laura Jane Faulds.

“On the plate in front of her were two kinds of sushi roll: a Red Dragon, and a Green Dragon. She didn’t prefer either of them, but ate a slice of Green Dragon because she’d eaten a Red Dragon last.”

Laura Jane Faulds is a Toronto-based writer of French-Moroccan descent. She currently runs a blog called Strawberry Fields Whatever. Her favorite Beatles song is “Tomorrow Never Knows.”

Read “Introducing Colors That Men Can Say Out Loud”

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Published Apr 03, 2014 - Comments? None yet

llansana

Wait, first: get the book (free PDF)!

From the early fall of 2011 to the early summer of 2012, I worked as an English language teacher in the Lycée Raymond Savignac in Villefranche de Rouergue, France, a bastide of several thousand, situated one-hundred miles due North of Toulouse.

Knowing no better, I had always associated Toulouse and its environs, the Midi-Pyrenées, with Paul Blackburn, the American poet who, in his twenties, served as a lecteur américain for the Fulbright Foundation in that city, where he laid the groundwork for his important anthology of early Romance lyrics, Proensa (1978, Persea Press).

In Villefranche, it was apparently something of an oddity that a twenty-two year old Bostonian such as myself would be interested in the work of the troubadours, and word of my interest quickly spread to the school’s Occitan teacher, Clément Cellier, who took it upon himself to teach me about contemporary Occitan and its poetry.

So, that year, we and our friends in town took a number of day trips together: Clément brought me to the Maison de la Culture Occitane in Toulouse, to a handful of small cities and castles in the region, and even to a number of parties at an Occitan bar on the Garonne named l’Estanquet, where Occitan speakers come together to find respite from their exhaustion with the French language, challenge each other in drinking games involving streaming liters of white wine and porrons, and plan their political actions in the city.

Occitan didn’t die with Bertran de Born, he liked to remind me.

To my mind, the gem of everything Clément shared with me remains the work of the poet Clamenç Llansana, a French-born poet of American Canadian origin, based now in Rodez, France.

By the time I met him in 2012, Llansana had already long since given up poetry.

He only has a single book to his name, but it should be known, however, that he is sitting on a wonderful and hefty body of early writings in Occitan and French, which he stores in a milk crate in his living room, and which he has no plans to translate himself.

This one published book, Goliard Songs, written in Occitan and self-published in 1978 under Éditions Igor, is a fragmentary and caricatural internal meditation of a modern vision of those drunken and mentally insatiable medieval goliards, whom Helen Waddell termed “the wandering scholars.”

It is a book that constellates its curiosities among falsehoods (the false Latin to French translation of Hugh Primas of Orleans as epigraph), questions of cultural inheritance (the satirical use of Latin and religious symbolism, the citations of both French and Occitan poetry), and lamentations over the passage of time (especially the loss of love, of childhood).

Reading this early work of Llansana is something like reading the works of the troubadours, had their rigid formal concerns been dropped for open forms, had they read the Surrealists and weened their philosophical visions on Henri Bergson, as opposed to the Greeks, and had they sculpted their poetics after listening to Jack Spicer’s Vancouver lectures, rather than reading the works of Pierre Abélard.

I would like to acknowledge my indebtedness here to Clément Cellier, Estel L. P. Martinez, and Llansana himself for their patience in helping me parse the Occitan. I would also like to thank Erica Mena at Anomalous Press, for publishing my translation of Goliard Songs as an e-book, and Mark Cugini and Cassandra Gillig of Big Lucks for soon hosting one of Llansana’s uncollected French poems, written under the pen name of Marcel de l’Aveugle, alongside its English translation; the two works should be taken, according to the author, as complementary texts.

Thanks as well to Drunken Boat for picking up on this narrative, and helping diffuse Llansana’s work with a sample of these first English translations.

To conclude: these may well be the works of which Guilhèm de Peitieus dreamed, at the turn of the 12th century, when he promised to write his poems “while sleeping on a horse.”

WNOR: http://writersnoonereads.tumblr.com/post/81423480961/this-guest-post-on-clamenc-llansana-louis-boone

Get the book from Anomalous Press (free PDF!): http://www.anomalouspress.org/books/occitan.php

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Published Apr 02, 2014 - Comments? None yet

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