The Pendulum, the Pit and Hope (Czech: Kyvadlo, jáma a naděje) is a 1983 Czechoslovak animated short film directed by Jan Svankmajer, adapted from Edgar Allen Poe's 'The Pit and the Pendulum'
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Saturday, 23 July 2011
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
Lavinia greenlaw, Audio Obscura
Lavinia greenlaw is a prize-winning poet and novelist who also writes radio drama and libretti. Recent books include a memoir, The Importance of Music to Girls, and her fourth poetry collection,The Casual Perfect, which will be published by Faber in September 2011.
Located in Manchester’s Piccadilly Station, a place where everyday dramas are constantly acted out, Audio Obscura is an aural version of the camera obscura: a framed and heightened reflection of the passing world.
Audio Obscura - trailer from Artangel on Vimeo.
In Audio Obscura, you will enter into the crowd to take part in an exploration of the overheard. What did she mean? Did he really say that? Does she realise what she is saying? You might wish you hadn’t listened or you might want to know more. You will look for stories and you might even find them.
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
Sunday, 20 March 2011
Samuel Beckett (1906 - 1989)
Not I
15' 06"
1973
Starring and Introduced by Billie Whitelaw
Not I takes place in a pitch black space illuminated only by a single beam of light. This light illuminates an actress's mouth. The mouth utters a monologue of fragmented, jumbled sentences which gradually coelesces into a narrative about a woman who has suffered an unpleasant experience. The title comes from the character's repeated insistence that the events she describes did not happen to her.
The stage directions also call for a character called 'the Auditor' who wears a black robe and can be dimly seen at the back of the stage, occasionally raising its hands in a gesture of impatience. When Beckett came to be involved in staging the play, he found that he was unable to place the Auditor in a stage position that pleased him, and consequently allowed the character to be omitted from those productions. However, he did not decide to cut the character from the published script, and whether or not the character is used in production seems to be at the discretion of individual producers. As he wrote to two American directors in 1986: "He is very difficult to stage (light--position) and may well be of more harm than good. For me the play needs him but I can do without him. I have never seen him function effectively."
A similar artist Steve McCaffrey has been experimenting in a very similar field since the 70's. To view my other post on him click here...
15' 06"
1973
Starring and Introduced by Billie Whitelaw
Not I takes place in a pitch black space illuminated only by a single beam of light. This light illuminates an actress's mouth. The mouth utters a monologue of fragmented, jumbled sentences which gradually coelesces into a narrative about a woman who has suffered an unpleasant experience. The title comes from the character's repeated insistence that the events she describes did not happen to her.
The stage directions also call for a character called 'the Auditor' who wears a black robe and can be dimly seen at the back of the stage, occasionally raising its hands in a gesture of impatience. When Beckett came to be involved in staging the play, he found that he was unable to place the Auditor in a stage position that pleased him, and consequently allowed the character to be omitted from those productions. However, he did not decide to cut the character from the published script, and whether or not the character is used in production seems to be at the discretion of individual producers. As he wrote to two American directors in 1986: "He is very difficult to stage (light--position) and may well be of more harm than good. For me the play needs him but I can do without him. I have never seen him function effectively."
A similar artist Steve McCaffrey has been experimenting in a very similar field since the 70's. To view my other post on him click here...
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
Nite of Poetry and Soup
Along with a few friends, we thought it would be nice to have a regualr evening of poetry. Amongst the usual T.S. Elliot, one of the most notable poems was read out by a friend studying English Literature at Glasgow University by Alice Notley.
Alice Notley - '101'
It's possible that I still live there
Apartment that is path-narrow
I don't want to be there in this poem if
Anyone else is, from the past, I want it to be empty
A lot of dust I let fall
It gets smaller See mobiles from when, a flasher
Whose penis had broken off That other mobile I
Made it's talismanic objects
A bottlecap a rose a centaur a cactus a coin
Several handmade afghans always and many filthy blankets
Shawls on whatever chair a Mexican shawl a cotton cloth from Africa
What about all of the plants they would get very scrubby
Cunty conches rock collections art everywhere collages and fans
But the apartment's a hallway and odah orange and purple curtains
at one window
Held up by a rope and hanging clothes tacked up dividing successive
tiny rooms
(Read more...)
Other artists which we touched upon included Frank O Hara & Harry Mathews with his rather sexually explicit collection of 'Singular Pleasures'. Here is a sample:
While the Aeolian String Quartet performs the final variation of Haydn's "Emperor" Quartet in the smaller of Managua's two concert halls, a man of three score and four summers sits masturbating in the last row of the orchestra, a coat on his lap. Thirty-three years before, after relieving himself during the intermission of another concert, he had returned to his seat with his fly unbuttoned. Unconscious of his appearance, he had become erect during a scintillating performance of the Schubert Octet and actually ejaculated during the final chords. The house lights had come up to reveal his disarray; he had fled; ever since, he has been laboring steadfastly to recreate that momentary bliss.
Alice Notley - '101'
It's possible that I still live there
Apartment that is path-narrow
I don't want to be there in this poem if
Anyone else is, from the past, I want it to be empty
A lot of dust I let fall
It gets smaller See mobiles from when, a flasher
Whose penis had broken off That other mobile I
Made it's talismanic objects
A bottlecap a rose a centaur a cactus a coin
Several handmade afghans always and many filthy blankets
Shawls on whatever chair a Mexican shawl a cotton cloth from Africa
What about all of the plants they would get very scrubby
Cunty conches rock collections art everywhere collages and fans
But the apartment's a hallway and odah orange and purple curtains
at one window
Held up by a rope and hanging clothes tacked up dividing successive
tiny rooms
(Read more...)
Other artists which we touched upon included Frank O Hara & Harry Mathews with his rather sexually explicit collection of 'Singular Pleasures'. Here is a sample:
While the Aeolian String Quartet performs the final variation of Haydn's "Emperor" Quartet in the smaller of Managua's two concert halls, a man of three score and four summers sits masturbating in the last row of the orchestra, a coat on his lap. Thirty-three years before, after relieving himself during the intermission of another concert, he had returned to his seat with his fly unbuttoned. Unconscious of his appearance, he had become erect during a scintillating performance of the Schubert Octet and actually ejaculated during the final chords. The house lights had come up to reveal his disarray; he had fled; ever since, he has been laboring steadfastly to recreate that momentary bliss.
Sunday, 22 March 2009
Steve McCaffery
reading from Carnival, Instal 2009, The Arches
Sat 21st March, Glasgow
What
He'll be performing his groundbreaking typewriter concrete poem Carnival. It's a beautiful, dizzying mandala of text, symbols, fonts and rubber stamps. And it's a kind of book as reading machine.
Sat 21st March, Glasgow
Who
A leading Yorkshire/ Canadian language/ action/ sound poet since the early 70's.
What
He'll be performing his groundbreaking typewriter concrete poem Carnival. It's a beautiful, dizzying mandala of text, symbols, fonts and rubber stamps. And it's a kind of book as reading machine.
Why
In trying to sound the symbols (%%%..), runs of continuous letters (NZNNNZ..) and snatches of found text, Carnival, and Steve's performance emphasise the visual qualities of language. It's a kind of wander through a labyrinth of text as sound, full of exclamations, pops, clicks and absurd humour.
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