Showing posts with label Via Negativa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Via Negativa. Show all posts

Tuesday, 20 August 2013

Mortal Ghazal

A new collaboration. Always a joy to look out for. This one came through Dave Bonta.

On his literary blog Via NegativaLuisa A Igloria has been writing a poem a day since November 2010, often in response to Dave's posts at The Morning Porch.
Luisa has a new full-length collection, The Saints of Streets, which includes poems first published on Via Negativa. It is a very fine collection.

For me, it was a pleasure to pick one poem out for a new video. I fell for 'Mortal Ghazal'.

Mortal Ghazal

My friend sent me a lei of strawflowers from the city of our childhood:
brittle corollas of yellow undercut by orange that we called Everlasting.

I remember the slides in the park, and the kiddy train one summer: it looped around its
periphery, a blur of red and orange. Just a few minutes, but the ride seemed everlasting.

And women from the hills, their baskets filled with dried snipe, amulets, herbs;
their woven skirts striped vivid orange (the sound of their voices, everlasting)—

In that world, everything seemed possible; in that world, time seemed almost too slow.
Now I’m brought up short in the shoals as the sun reddens in a sky unrelenting—

At sunrise, two birds call— heraldic, but fleeting. Such tender things in the world:
smudged with blue, capped with little streaks of rust. Glyphs from the everlasting.

Tell me I haven’t done too little, that I’ve made some difference to you;
even if in the end I might be judged wanting, unhinged: mortal, not everlasting.

Luisa made a recording of the poem and I created a track where her reading could lay in.



Along with her ecording Luisa gave me some ideas and pointers where to look for possible images.
One of the video's she proposed was http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90qcjBE-jlA, the film is part of a collection of motion picture films that John Van Antwerp MacMurray shot during the time he served as American Minister to China (1925-1929).
The 16mm silent movie was shot during a trip to the Philippines in October 1926, where MacMurray and his wife spent a few days at Camp John Hay, Baguio.

I asked Princeton University Library if I could use these images. Yes I could.
Together with Luisa, I went looking for the right images from that film.
Mailing back and forth, trying out new and different edits... It was fun to work this way and, I admit, a big help. I do not know a lot of the rituals and history the film shows. Luisa does and this is what she had to say about the project:

Dave Bonta first alerted me to the idea of a film poem collaboration with Marc Neys (Swoon), just a little over a week ago. When he mentioned this possibility, he referred to "Reprieve," the video poem he himself (Dave) had made as a surprise in time for my 50th birthday two years ago. Dave said that he had something similar in mind for marking the publication of my new book THE SAINTS OF STREETS, but that it would be a little difficult to achieve a collaboration without me being informed or in the loop.
After getting more directly connected with Marc, I recorded three short poems from the collection that I thought might be good candidates. Marc selected "Mortal Ghazal" and I'm really happy that he did.
The poem's recurrent rhyme is the word "everlasting" - it had started out as a meditation of sorts on a flower indigenous to Baguio, the mountain city where I grew up in the Philippines. The locals refer to them as "everlasting" flowers, but they are strawflowers or helichrysum bracteatum (family asteraceae), Locals wind them into leis and sell them to tourists. One of my dearest friends from childhood recently returned from a trip to Baguio, and brought a lei back for me.


Around ten years ago, this friend lost her only son, who grew up with my daughters in Baguio; and she has never really recovered from that grief; she has also just had surgery, and thinking about her and about our lives in that small mountain city so long ago, before we became what we are now, led me to writing this poem which is also a meditation on time/temporality, passage, absence and presence. 
 
When I write poems, I am often guided first by images and their interior "sound" or texture, even before I can bring them to bear upon each other in some totally explicable way... What draws me in the first place to poetry is the sense it offers of mystery, of how not everything in language can be completely grasped, so that we can continue to think of possibility.
 
Therefore I love so much how Marc has been able to intuit the poem's themes of recurrence and memory and render them in such a way that both sound and imagery, artifact and dream, loop one into the other in the video poem.

I added a few 'contemporary' images and an extra layer (image of a big spinning mirrorball) of colour and light.
Have a look and listen and enjoy;


Words& Voice: Luisa A. Igloria
Concept, add. camera, editing & music: Swoon
Footage: Princeton University Library - John Van Antwerp McMurray Papers - Public Policy Papers Division -Princeton University Library / Christy Hermogenes (PHILIPPINES Part 14 The Road to Baguio City)

Thursday, 16 February 2012

Manual: How to listen.

De derde in de serie en diegene die het drieluik compleet maakt.
How to listen
Just as the tail bone is a vestigial tail, the ears are vestigial cabbages.
Wear a hat to ward off ear worms, which if unchecked can turn into ear butterflies.
Listen with the heart. It’s not really designed for that, but it gets bored just pumping blood all the time.
Listen with your skin: each body hair is an antenna.
Turn on, tune in, drop into a really comfortable couch.
That “still, small voice” is neither God nor conscience but a long-deceased great aunt with a few things still on her mind.
Take notes.
All sound can be heard as music, but not all music can be heard as music.
Your life did, in fact, come with a soundtrack—what have you done with it?
The listener, too, must improvise.
One chord is enough for most purposes—don’t be greedy!
Silence can take four basic forms: pregnant, shocked, utter, and radio.
Pregnant silence is the most tragic, since she always dies giving birth.
Compose in her memory a sonata for the ear trumpet.

De werkwijze voor deze derde moest hetzelfde blijven. Het spek, huis- tuin- keuekenmateriaal, licht en absurd.
Dave Bonta schrijft ijverig verder aan zijn Manual, dus blijft de kans dat er nog video's komen voor het handboek, maar dan anders van insteek.

How to listen



Woorden en stem: Dave Bonta
Concept, camera, montage, muziek: Swoon

Saturday, 11 February 2012

Manual: How to wait - How to walk

De onnavolgbare Dave Bonta heeft naast zijn voortrekkersrol in de videopoëzie (Hij is een van de eerste die mijn werkjes begon op te pikken...) ook nog andere on-line bezigheden. Je vraagt je soms af wanneer die man slaapt.

Op zijn blog Via Negativa is hij onlangs begonnen met Manual.
Zelf omschreef hij op FB die 'doorlopende' reeks als:

'It's always seemed kind of a shame that life doesn't come with a manual, so I've decided to write one.'
'My biggest influences on the writing in this series, by the way, are the Serbian poets Vasko Popa and Novica Tadic. That's the level of absurdism I'm trying to mine -- a challenge for my somewhat too-logical mind.'

Ik was direct verkocht. Iets in mijn kleine teen begon te kriebelen en geleidelijk aan werd ik ervan overtuigd dat ik 'hier iets mee wilde doen'
Dave was zo vriendelijk mij de toestemming te geven om alles van de reeks te gebruiken. Meer nog hij was ook direct bereid om elk onderdeel van 'Manual' op te nemen.

Ik kon van start.
Ik had al zitten werken aan een basistrack voor de hele reeks. Een reeks van klanken die ik licht kon wijzigen bij elk nieuw onderdeel.



Beelden dan. Terug naar 'That's the level of absurdism I'm trying to mine '
Het was dus kwestie om bepaalde 'gewoontes' die ik heb bij het opzetten van een nieuwe video opzij te schuiven.

How to wait
Incubate an egg with the heat of your palms. Brood.
Nurse your sorrows with the sour milk of jealousy, or failing that, Nestle’s infant formula.
Dissect a seed.
Relive a pleasant memory by reenacting it in excruciating detail.
Do math problems in your head—for example, prove Goldbach’s Conjecture.
Collect rain in jars, tightly sealed and organized by month and day.
Get ready! Sharpen all your knives.
Grind them until they’re thin as piano wires.
Hug yourself tightly and rock back and forth on your haunches.
If you must watch the clock, unplug it first.
If you must play solitaire, dispense with the cards.
Light cigarettes and watch from a safe distance as they turn into columns of ash.
Pace, but let your fingers do the walking.
Novels are best read backwards, one page at a time.
Stop kidding yourself about what comes next.
Go about your business.
Coil into a spring so your mind won’t have anywhere to wander.

Begonnen vanuit het idee van 'doelloos staan wachten' ben ik thuis beginnen filmen.
Een toevallig in de buurt liggend stukje spek (dat ik gebruikte om te kijken en scherp te stellen waar ik juist moest gaan staan) bracht de hele zaak in een stroomversnelling.
Toen ik de testbeelden zag werkte de combinatie van dat spek met de 'alledaagse handeling' perfect.
Een rode draad.
Vanaf dan liep het bijna vanzelf. De basisideeën waren er snel (niet te ver gaan zoeken, eenvoudige handelingen, huis-tuin-en keukenmateriaal,...en spek)

Ik ben vertrokken vanuit het idee dat ik voor elk onderdeel 3 'verhaal/beeldlijnen' wilde.
Die ik dan zou omkeren, spiegelen en chronologisch op een negen-delig scherm wilde monteren.
Enfin...'t is klaar

How to wait



Woorden en stem: Dave Bonta
Concept, camera, montage & muziek: Swoon

Vanuit 'How te wait' kwam dan redelijk snel 'How to walk'

How to walk
Walking is a form of climbing—one extremity should keep hold of the floor or ground at all times to prevent a fall.
(Feet are better for this than hands.)
You can try delegating it to others, but you have to hope they won’t do the same.
Someone must walk or the earth will forget about us and have other bad dreams instead.
Find a tree to coach you—trees spend their whole lives plotting their next step.
Be careful not to take root.
Every corner of terra firma requires a different walk, as well as every hour of the day.
A morning walk should never take the place of an evening or postprandial walk.
Saunter. Shuffle. Swagger. Stride. Plod.
Feet are like oxen bound in harness: they’re paired, but they’re not a couple.
However much they’re fetishized, their first and only mate is the ground.
Muscles are like batteries—simply walk backwards to recharge!
Try not to think about the ten little piggies with their discordant agendas.
Try not to think about those other two-legged animals, the birds.
At birth, you are allotted just so many steps. Choose them carefully.
Keep your eyes on the sidewalk—there are no dropped coins in the sky.

How to walk



Woorden en stem: Dave Bonta
Concept, camera, montage & muziek: Swoon

Aangezien dat Dave ook al 'How to eat', 'How to breathe', 'How to listen' 'How to wake up' schreef, zullen er waarschijnlijk nog wel enkele volgen...