The term ecopoetics has become increasingly important to scholars and poets alike. It is certainly a critical moment for the field and practice. Please join us in February for a three-day conference that will focus specifically on exploring ecopoetics, taking up such questions as: What is ecopoetics? What representational strategies and sociopolitical commitments might characterize [...]
And the seasons begin to cycle as each day brings another spur for vulnerability, another adieu and another resolution to self vis-a-vis composer Paul of the bidirectionality of time in circles.
At the Villa Medici: from Paris to the Pincio, perfect coherence of voluptuousness in stone embraced otherwise, alive.
Worth the sweltering heat of stone discharged from the arbors of the living, amplifying the rise and fall of expectations to locate any trace of memory of the fratelli Rosselli in this their first burial site: a stone’s throw from Toklas and Stein, a porquoi become genital and mouth of Jacob Epstein’s direct carving softened, [...]
First vote in this country: 4 yeses supported by more than 95% of voters: no to privatizing water, letting powerful criminals loose, development of nuclear power. “And yet the wind still breathes….”: rundown of how to vote last weekend posted on the door for a social club of old men wearing derbys at dusk in [...]
“Se vogliamo che tutto rimanga come è, bisogna che tutto cambi.” “If we want everything to remain as it is, everything must change.” Citation (Il gattopardo) ringing in consciousness departing from Sicily, trumpets of flora over the 16th-century ramparts. A friendly, yet most aware pair of landlords, now, the proprietaria denim-vested.
Nature once again reflecting culture, making its own vertigo and mask for a friend in what remains of the ingeniously experimental Greek baths.
“Non ci passa una lira,” says the lady we meet surveying her high plaza with diamond facade from the waist up, and who justifies our afternoon chocolates by identifying us as her “children” to a daughter several minutes later. Not a cent passes through here yet everywhere—pizzerias, baseball caps, banks—is the immense unidentified Hellenistic goddess [...]
A sticker bedecking the she-wolf-head fountains around town. Once Massimo Cacciari started getting on the bandwagon, they began to call the tap water in Venice “the mayor’s water.” Don’t sell it: vote for public water on the referendum of 12-13 June. In Rome, where providing water to the public is a glorious tradition, a friend [...]
Delighted to find a poem by the counter of the Casa del Caffé in the Campus Martius—a tradition in Italy, it seems—so that even the hairdresser’s business card is full of rhymes— “Coffee, it rustles my soul, like wind on the mount that breaks in amongst the oaks and loosens and agitates the limbs, sweetbitter, [...]
“YOU…SPACE WITHOUT LIMITS” Sensing exactly what the vandal means, gazing out beyond the cordoned Villas, cordoning Cupola and its arcade embrace, at this pastel haze in company.
The Acqua Claudia, highest aqueduct of all, serving thus each quarter high and low of Rome, now backdrop straight out of Pasolini for the starring poppies & weekend runners of Cinecittà and Centocelle.
The introduction to our performance at Corto Circuito tonight, in Italian: Queste partiture “pop-up” fanno parte di un progetto in corso, intitolato Uscita 43, che è composto di elementi poetici, visivi, e sonori. Lo descrivo come un’archeologia di paesaggi tossici e afflitti, e un’operetta di cori “pop-up” (prendendo il termine usato per le finestre “pop-up” [...]
Performing pop-up choruses surrounding postpastoral landscapes from Exit 43/Uscita 43 with the Difforme Ensemble (Marco Ariano, Renato Ciunfrini, Roberto Fega) and with Ersela Kripa & Karen Yasinsky this Saturday night at the Centro Sociale Corto Circuito in Cinecittà: be there/ sii lì!
Came home to a lecture on building in—as—time, concept so floral for would-be tragic Venice-of-water, and to walls—of taverns and cities—made conceptually permeable via their blooming, ground as cherries.
How would old Rockefeller lurch to learn that the Palisades view he purchased for his Cloisters transported from Saint-Michel-de-Cuxa, Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert, Bonnefont-en-Comminges, Trie-en-Bigorre, and Froville to frame serves also as stageset to the “quiet-zoned” spectacle of bellic muscle for the next century?
At Fresh Kills, double to Mannahatta, with Kathy Westwater, Seung Jae Lee, Leigh Draper, and Raj Kottamasu, gearing up toward our residency for PARK, a view of the East Mound of solid waste becoming laboriously yet strategically a mountain by way of 280 gas extraction wells and plastic and other geosynthetic, permanent or impermanent impermeabilities: [...]
And is the loveliest sculpture, it turns out, when simply chopped rather than mass-manufactured, carted in from the local hardware store. One of various mundane epiphanies of this Easter among sculpting comrades of the olive grove.
From Rome’s high galleries of modern art this morning I am whisked back to my 20-year-old encounter with the near godlette of spring in a Morgantina cistern, via two images of melancholy Persephone with her condemning pomegranate seed in fugues from the underworld. One of them, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, is accompanied by an Italian [...]
Of St. John de Matha, founder of the Trinitarians: the aqueduct hermitage where he lived and died, on 17 December 1213, atop the Caelian hill, over the Arch of Dolabella, looks out onto San Tommaso in Formis, the Villa Celimontana, and the other tall curves of the Acqua Claudia, or Claudian Aqueduct—and the seemingly interminable, [...]
Notwithstanding the cityscape’s foundations in the razing/building campaigns of the Romans, so rapaciously dependent on the blank human slate, so antithetical to Greek carving with the landscape, so akin to our own, a day of finding oi-kos, ecos, in the self-puffing of the polis, whether national, papal or aristocratic: signifiers of femininity and the natural, [...]
What it means for the rhythm of every season to have been permanently reprogrammed by self-estranging years in a city on the opposite end of the earth—having been looking at plum blossoms popping that day because of it—I’m writing this out of step with the actual, having been paralyzed on the 11th—and for the trauma [...]