lunes, 18 de junio de 2018


Greenwald combines a Wordsworthian sense of nature with cartoon-like characters.

Douglas Messerli
On June 17, 2016 my friend, poet Ted Greenwald, died at the age of 74, far too young for such a remarkable poetic career to end.

Greenwald was born and raised in New York. He was involved with the New York School as the editor of The Poetry Project’s newsletter during the 1970s (serving on that organization’s board for many years) and the Language poets (he was a close friend with Charles Bernstein). I appreciated Ted for his street-wise talk and his savvy knowledge of nearly everything New York. Throughout most of his adult life, he supported his wife, Joan, and their daughter, driving taxis and delivering newspapers — jobs that few other Language or New York School poets ever held — before later on working in art galleries (a New York School kind of occupation). At times, he clearly resented the fact that he did not have more time to write.

Despite his limited writing time, he produced more than 30 of his own books and numerous collaborations with poets such as Bernstein and Bill Berkson (the latter of whom died on the very same day as Greenwald). I published one of those books, Word of Mouth, and included several of his poems in my anthology From the Other Side of the Century: A New American Poetry 1960-1990 in 1994.
 Although Greenwald’s writing draws from eclectic sources (for example, Bernstein, Frank O’Hara, Tom Raworth, Bernadette Mayer, William Carlos Williams, Joseph Ceravolo, and John Godrey) there is never a question that he had his own voice. His poetry could be highly formal or radically disjunctive, but it was always clear that it was Ted’s work.

Particularly in Common Sense from 1978 (reissued by Wesleyan University Press in 2016) and his 1979 masterwork, Licorice Chronicles, about which I have previously written, Greenwald weaves together his densely dissociated fragments into a personally expressive whole, often pointing to the natural world or the society in which he survives. In his tribute to Greenwald, after his death, Bernstein wrote:

Ted Greenwald’s poetry has the down-to-earth feel of the spoken woven into dazzling patterns. While some poems seem off the cuff, his later work is as intricate in its phrasal repetitions as a Persian carpet. Greenwald’s poems often have a no-nonsense, shoot from the hip, hard-boiled style, as if he is speaking with you on the most intimate terms. But this substrate is overlaid with a crystalline, multicolor lacquer. His Jewish accented vernacular speech is sounded out as musical tones, rough edges made exquisite in the alchemy of his poetry, which spins base materials into precariously shimmering fabrics.

Bernstein is referring to Greenwald’s later poetry, but I find the same “shimmering fabrics” in his early work. Consider, for example, the opening stanza of his great poem “Privets Come into Season at High Tide” from Common Sense:

       Privets come into season at high tide.

       The night on the Great Neck side

         near Steppingstone the bargeman walks

         over the water the refrigerator opened the mailman fell out.

         Opening the closet the grocery boy fell out

         banging his head on the floor his knee.

          The snow bushes 40 years preparing dinner,

          or the laugh on the rug, fold threads weaving in

          & out over the bodies on the floor.

          First sack, the corrugated box lit up

          under the lawn lamp the rippled footsteps

         running from the scene of the hiding, tumbled out on-

          to the floor. “What are you doing in there?”

         “I am searching. It is good to be free again.”

In this semi-farcical scene, a kind of comical scenario that might be out of the Marx Brothers’ A Night at the Opera (1935), Greenwald combines an almost Wordsworthian sense of nature with cartoon-like characters all in search of freedom and poetic investigation. People and objects rub up against one another, spilling over into a magnificent display of wonderment, similar to a tale by Scheherazade. In the end, the poem evokes the enchantresses’ magical escape from death in the telling of the tale:

        Her maple thigh—mole…cheek—

        the chattering of teeth on the ground,

        count out plums & grapes

         leading the eyelid bay & stars. The line.

        The whim drawing the danger thru the dust out of the corner,

        The underbrush kelp. Transforming the hedge circuits.

At times, Greenwald it appears so determined to consider alternate possibilities that his poetry breaks down into parenthetical units, jiggling the reality of what he is attempting to say, as in the poem “Jiggles”:
   targets cluster . (or is it) targets huddle .

         (my) headache’s been with me for 3 days .

         unsettling (my) eyes settle in a cloud .

          (or is it) (my) ,

         eyes settle on a cloud .

         or my (is it)

          eyes settle

         or on (is it)

          my , eyes settle in (is it) a cloud

          on or in

         a settle

          (my) cloud (or is it)

Everything is unsettled in this poem, even the punctuation, separated from the very phrases it ostensibly structures. Images and language seem to cut across reason (almost as in a migraine headache): sharp jabbing visions that sever the logic of the poem create the sense of complete disorder.

In the following poem, the beautiful “Elegance and Umbrellas,” the poet seems to meld a trip between Paris and New York which suddenly links up the images and scenes of Gene Kelly’s famous dance in Singing in the Rain with his later An American in Paris.

       To assume a new character, when the old one wore

       Near me, so “lonely” when night                 to darken

       Paired with polar stars sinking over Paris

       Moves in         over the dusty coast

       And dreamed up a girl “deja vue”

       Out. In years days say hours,

       The room, the road broad leaves shivering       in the wind

       Moves slowly over the Atlantic toward New York.

       Shuffling thru an old picture                     of you.

       I’m all mixed up about things

Throughout these poems, Greenwald overlays the actual world with a psychological portrait of himself and his subjects. Ironically, this distorts the mundane notion of “common sense.” Yet, it reveals the true “common sense” that lies in romanticized life in the face of one’s gritty, day-to-day existence. In that respect, a deep yearning exists in Greenwald’s poems for encounters that may seem impossible in everyday life. His judgment of friends and evaluations of others, flippant at times, masked a desire for more affection and love, more idealized relationships. There are dozens of examples of this in Common Sense, but I’ll just quote from the poem, “Goes On,” which reveals his determination to stay in the dance:

      The beat

      Comes out the speaker

      Bodies start to move

       Yearning to be

       Next to leaning

       On some other body

       They get up to dance

       Couples a common

     Denominator although

       A few threes and fours

     Can be seen

       Around the floor


       Can I have this dance

       Who wants to know

In the end, Greenwald does present a kind of common sense — proposing that we reacquaint ourselves with our relationships with nature and our desires for one another, and that we become fuller human beings through our exchanges with the Earth. I miss the sometimes (maybe even frequent) critic of our failures that Ted Greenwald was. I think we need him now more than ever.

Common Sense (2016) by Ted Greenwald is published by Wesleyan University Press and is available from Amazon and other online retailers.


The artists in Décor urge viewers to question the creator’s role in the management and presentation of art.

Michael Valinsky

Installation view of Décor: Barbara Bloom, Andrea Fraser, Louise Lawler, April 28–July 15, 2018 at MOCA Pacific Design Center (all images courtesy of The Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles, photos by Zak Kelley)
LES — With Décor at the MOCA Pacific Design Center, curator Rebecca Matalon brings together three artists who have been central to the development of institutional critique, Barbara Bloom, Andrea Fraser, and Louise Lawler. Beginning in the 1980s, these artists have spent their careers examining the role of the art institution in the relationship between artworks and viewers.

Centered on Bloom’s installation, The Reign of Narcissism (1988-89) — an ersatz neoclassical interior dedicated to a fictional version of the artist — the exhibition considers the intersection of interior decorating and museum displays. Assuming administrator-like roles, the artists urge viewers to question the creator’s role in the management and presentation of art.
Contributing three videos to the exhibition, Andrea Fraser re-poses a question that shook up the art world in the 1980s: what type of viewer does the museum produce? In her 1989 video series Museum Highlights: A Gallery Talk, Fraser takes on the invented persona of Jane Castleton, a docent of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Touring through the museum’s collection, Fraser provides descriptions of the exhibited artworks that are often absurd or completely unrelated to the object she stands before. She lavishes exaggerated praise on items she encounters, demonstrating the disjunctions between speech and image.

Fraser’s script draws from diverse sources and addresses the museum’s establishment and biographical information about donors and integrating various quotes from scholars across all humanities disciplines. For example, she reads a quote from The Museum Fund, A Living Museum: Philadelphia’s Opportunity for Leadership in the Field of Art, stating that the Municipal Art Gallery:

[…] gives an opportunity for enjoying the highest privileges of wealth and leisure to all those people who have cultivated tastes but not the means of gratifying them.

Fraser endows her character with authority and credence by adopting the language of art historians and administrators. In appropriating this language, she transmits inspirational messages about the museum.

Installation view of Décor: Barbara Bloom, Andrea Fraser, Louise Lawler, April 28–July 15, 2018 at MOCA Pacific Design Center

No longer a contemporary study of the structures of language within the art administration community, Museum Highlights has become a historical document that captures a moment in art history before the internet became an integral force in the democratization of art discourse (despite the rising cost of art and widening gap between art stars and working artists). Fraser’s work was received by a coterie of intellectual thinkers and artists who recognized the urgency of the questions she posed.

Fraser’s videos are juxtaposed with Louise Lawler’s photographs of artworks in situ, which were seminal to 1980s appropriation art. The photographs included in the show home in on the details of an object’s installation in the institution. In “Them” (1986-1987), two ancient sculptures rest in the corner of a blue room. Stripped of context that establishes them as untouchable and timeless masterpieces — apparently gathering dust in a corner — they come across as valueless pieces of discarded stone. In another work, “Pleasure More” (1997), the artist photographs a recreation of Andy Warhol’s installation of floating silver balloons, Silver Clouds (1966), in a New York gallery. Without reading the placard, viewers only see balloons, not the value attached to a work by an iconic 20th century artist……………..


Priorité aux soins.

Par Jade Toussay

Aquarius: Comment se passe la prise en charge des migrants arrivés à Valence
AQUARIUS - Après une semaine d'errance et d'incertitude en Méditerranée, les 630 migrants secourus à bord de l'Aquarius le 10 juin au large de la Libye sont finalement arrivés à Valence, en Espagne ce dimanche 17 juin dans la matinée. C'est donc une première étape qui s'achève, mais également le début d'un nouveau parcours, sans doute plus long.

Ce dimanche, plusieurs centaines de bénévoles de la Croix Rouge mais également du personnel des autorités de Valence participent au dispositif "L'Espérance de la Méditerranée", mis en place dans le port de Valence.

Selon un premier bilan fait par les autorités de Valence, 135 personnes avaient été recensées par les autorités à 12h15, dont 127 hommes, 7 mineurs non accompagnés et une femme enceinte. Elle a été amenée à l'hôpital, avec quinze autres personnes pour des insuffisances respiratoires, des douleurs à la cage thoracique et des fractures diverses.
Un kit d'urgence
Les migrants débarqués par groupe de 5 personnes, passent tout d'abord une première inspection sanitaire, réalisée par les membres de la Croix Rouge. Ils reçoivent un kit d'urgence comprenant des vêtements, de la nourriture et des produits d'hygiène basiques (une serviette, un peigne, une brosse à dents)... et la plupart du temps aussi des chaussures.

"Ils arrivent sans chaussures et sans chaussettes. Et ils en ont besoin car le chemin est long du bateau aux tentes" où sont réalisés les entretiens, explique à l'AFP Carmen Moreno, bénévole. Ils reçoivent aussi de l'eau, car même si le premier bateau est arrivé à l'aube, les débarquements se sont poursuivis sous un soleil de plus en plus fort.
Un premier examen médical
L'Aquarius et les deux navires italiens, le Dattilo et l'Orione, ont dû traverser des eaux agitées, qui les ont même obligés à modifier leur itinéraire et à passer à proximité des côtes corses. Un voyage difficile, qui n'a pas été sans conséquence sur l'état de santé des migrants, parmi lesquels se trouvent sept femmes enceintes, une centaine de mineurs, mais également des blessés.

Les migrants sont donc orientés vers des tentes situées sur le quai des croisiéristes du port de Valence, afin de subir un examen médical plus poussé. Ils peuvent suivre deux circuits différents, en fonction de leurs besoins: un "circuit vert" pour les personnes en bonne santé, envoyées directement à un entretien avec la police pour s'identifier avant de partir en bus vers un foyer. Et un "rouge" réservé aux enfants, aux femmes enceintes ou aux personnes nécessitant des soins et acheminées parfois vers un hôpital avant de partir aussi vers un centre d'hébergement.

Après le débarquement du Datillo, la Croix Rouge a cependant estimé que l'état de santé des migrants était "bon, par rapport à ce qui était attendu".
Établissement d'une fiche par les autorités
C'est la seule étape non-médicale de cette première journée en Espagne. Après l'examen médical, les autorités de Valence établissent une sorte de fiche d'état civil. Face à cette situation exceptionnelle, le gouvernement espagnol a accordé un permis de séjour de 45 jours aux migrants, qui devront ensuite régulariser leur situation.

L'inspecteur en chef du poste de police générale des Frontières Bernardo Alonso a indiqué ce dimanche que ce dispositif devait permettre à tous ceux qui le souhaitent de bénéficier de la protection internationale. La France a pour sa part affirmé qu'elle était prête à accueillir des migrants de l'Aquarius "qui répondraient aux critères du droit d'asile".
"Nos agents sont déjà en train de lancer les premiers processus d'identification et l'établissement des documents des personnes arrivées à bord du Dattilo"

Redirigés vers des centres hospitaliers ou d'accueil
Les migrants nécessitant des soins particuliers sont ensuite amenés dans des centres hospitaliers, les autres rejoignent par bus les centres d'accueil mis en place par la Croix Rouge et les autorités.


Del 22 de junio al 16 de septiembre de 2018
Salas D y E
La Casa Encendida de Fundación Montemadrid presenta la exposición Gus Van Sant, la primera retrospectiva dedicada en España a las películas y creaciones artísticas del cineasta estadounidense, icono del cine independiente.

La muestra está formada por películas, obras plásticas (fotografías, dibujos y música inéditos en España) y distintas colaboraciones artísticas (William Burroughs, William Eggleston, Bruce Weber, David Bowie) que muestran el particular universo de este director de culto, emblema del cine anticonformista y radical.
Además, este verano, La Terraza Magnética girará en torno al cineasta. Para el cine al aire libre de los sábados, el invitado propone una carta blanca que incluye la proyección de Stroszek, de Werner Herzog; Julien Donkey-Boy, de Harmony Korine o Luna, de Bernardo Bertolucci. La programación de los conciertos de los domingos, comisariada por Andrés Noarbe, también estará inspirada en sus películas. Se caracterizará por la diversidad y la fusión de estilos con conciertos como el de Mary Ocher (Berlín); Ann Deveria (Granada) o Les Trucs (Frankfurt, Alemania).

Paralelamente a la exposición, durante el mes de junio, la Filmoteca Española Cine Doré de Madrid desarrollará un programa dedicado a toda la filmografía de Gus Van Sant (consultar programa de Cine Doré).
El 23 de junio podrá verse la última película de Gus Van Sant Don’t Worry He Wont Get Far On Food en la premier que tendrá lugar en La Terraza de La Casa Encendida y el 7 de julio se estrenará en salas.
El cine de Gus Van Sant (Louisville, Kentucky, 1952) es una muestra de la historia americana posmoderna (post pop, post Nuevo Hollywood, posmilitante). 

Sus películas provocan asombro y sus complejas estructuras narrativas (en forma de mosaicos o de collages), igual que sus cambios de tonalidad, producen un cine disonante donde la melancolía y el humor nunca son concebidos como opuestos. Este cineasta de múltiples caras es el director de una rica filmografía de obras heterogéneas y de una extrema diversidad como si, película tras película, Van Sant reinventara todo su cine. Así ha filmado los tiempos de la masacre de Elephant, contado la vida del militante gay Harvey Milk, mostrado la juventud con seriedad en Paranoid Park o a los padres de la beat generation como unos enfants terribles.

La exposición Gus Van Sant está producida por la Cinémathèque Française, el Museo Nazionale del Cinema (Turín), el Musée de l’Elysée (Lausanne) y la Cinémathèque suisse.

domingo, 17 de junio de 2018


Hace más de quinientos años un instrumento de cuerdas viajó de la Península Ibérica a Brasil. La guitarra, que frecuentó palacios y burdeles, lo mismo vive en la calle y las casas que visita las grandes salas de conciertos. En manos de Fernando Sor, Francisco Tárrega y Andrés Segovia, en el regazo de Baden Powell o de Raphael Rabello, en los dedos de Paco de Lucía; para el flamenco, la samba, el choro, la bossa nova, el fado o la música clásica; con los trovadores contemporáneos que acompañan sus canciones gracias a sus cuerdas y maderas. 

Con el paso del tiempo se ha convertido en el más querido y democrático de todos los instrumentos. Sin duda el que mejor traduce la cultura musical de España, Brasil y Portugal. Guitarras Atlánticas cuenta esa maravillosa historia.


June 8 through September 23, 2018
Monsters captivated the imagination of medieval men and women, just as they continue to fascinate us today. Drawing on the Morgan's superb collection of illuminated manuscripts, this major exhibition, the first of its kind in North America, will explore the complex social role of monsters in the Middle Ages. Medieval Monsters will lead visitors through three sections based on the ways monsters functioned in medieval societies. "Terrors" explores how monsters enhanced the aura of those in power, be they rulers, knights, or saints. A second section on "Aliens" demonstrates how marginalized groups in European societies—such as Jews, Muslims, women, the poor, and the disabled—were further alienated by being figured as monstrous. The final section, "Wonders", considers a group of strange beauties and frightful anomalies that populated the medieval world. Whether employed in ornamental, entertaining, or contemplative settings, these fantastic beings were meant to inspire a sense of marvel and awe in their viewers.
Medieval Monsters: Terrors, Aliens, Wonders is generously supported by an anonymous gift in memory of Melvin R. Seiden, The Janine Luke and Melvin R. 

Seiden Fund for Exhibitions and Publications, the Andrew W. Mellon Research and Publications Fund, the National Endowment for the Arts, the Charles E. Pierce, Jr. Fund for Exhibitions, and Mrs. Alexandre P. Rosenberg.


Il torace schiacciato da un blocco di pietra, il corpo sbalzato all'indietro dal flusso piroclastico mentre tentava la fuga dalla furia eruttiva del Vesuvio. E' in questa drammatica posizione che emerge una vittima nel cantiere dei nuovi scavi della Regio V a Pompei. Lo scheletro è stato ritrovato all'incrocio tra il vicolo delle Nozze d'Argento e quello dei Balconi, di recente scoperta, che protende verso via di Nola. Dalle prime osservazioni, si tratterebbe di una persona sopravvissuta alle prime fasi dell'eruzione e in cerca di salvezza lungo il vicolo ormai invaso dalla spessa coltre di lapilli.

 Il corpo è stato infatti rinvenuto all'altezza del primo piano dell'edificio adiacente, al di sopra dello strato di lapilli. Qui è stato investito dalla fitta e densa nube piroclastica che lo ha sbalzato all'indietro.Un imponente blocco in pietra (forse uno stipite), trascinato con violenza dalla nube, lo ha colpito nella porzione superiore, schiacciando la parte alta del torace e il capo che, ancora non individuati, giacciono probabilmente a quota più bassa rispetto agli arti inferiori. Le prime analisi eseguite dall'antropologa, durante lo scavo, identificano lo scheletro come quello di un uomo adulto di età superiore ai 30 anni.