Commentaries - March 2012
Obra sonora poética, Parte III
This is Part III of a four-part essay that appears in Portuguese in Deslocamentos Críticos (Lisbon: Babel; São Paulo, Itaú Cultural, 2011) under the title "Obra Sonora Poética: 1980-2010." Read Part I here and Part II here.
Brazilian Poetic Sound Work: 1980-2010
“Barulho”’s suggestion of the physicality of poetry through both its sound and sense resonates anew in the “cross-platform” work of Ricardo Aleixo. In Gullar, sound functions within Poundian melopoeia, plucking noises, rhythm, and melodies out of printed words via poetic devices including rhyme, assonance, and alliteration (even as it reaches to involve the body of the reader through the idea of breath). Aleixo’s poetry combines these devices with sonic devices in means and media beyond the realm of the printed page. His most important medium may be his own performing body and voice. Through performance, he actualizes the movement, voice, lyric self, and voice-body-sound relationship that Gullar’s poem evokes.
Gullar and Aleixo exemplify a shift in poetic approaches to sound between the twentieth and twenty-first centuries that Brian M. Reed aptly describes. Whereas in the twentieth century, both poets and critics perseverated on the question, “What is the medium of poetry?,” in the media-rich twenty-first century a new challenge arises: “What can this medium do for poetry?” (270, 284). “Barulho,” with its lyric comparison of poetic material to the materials of other arts, takes up the first question. Aleixo, who has steadily increased his media platform over the last two decades, poses the second. One response to it is that his own sonic media blend produces a freedom that responds to yet another question, that of race in Brazil.
Aleixo’s work sounds the issues of racism and racial identity, specifically black identity, in a country that historically has remained silent on these subjects. Through his own performing body, sonic, verbal, visual, and rhetorical devices, and the incorporation of forms and sounds from Afro-Brazilian ritual, poetry, and music, his work continually acknowledges blackness and African heritage, and often points to the power structures within which race functions in Brazilian society. This active exchange differentiates Aleixo from Gullar and from the Brazilian poetic vanguard in general.
The poetic engagement of race is part of a broader issue of identity and freedom. “Um Ano Entre Os Humanos”—both the performance and the poem of that title in Modelos Vivos (2010)—poses the fundamental question, What does it mean to be human? Its answer: Humans make noise. Like Gullar, Aleixo’s expansive use of poetic sound effects signals personal artistic freedom. As Edimilson de Almeida Pereira has recently pointed out, artistic freedom is one of the most powerful forms for social intervention.
In an August 2010 performance of “Boca também toca tambor” (“the mouth also drums”), a one-and-a-half minute segment of the roughly forty-minute “leitura-concerto” (“reading/concert”), Música para modelos vivos movidos a moedas (2010), Aleixo plays with the valuation of time that usually gives form to music and language. He fluidly sounds out the words boca também toca tambor in different pitches that invoke African-based drumming tones. As he repeats the short line, altering the pitches, a delay in turn repeats his successive intonations. The repetition, like a round, is a musical loop that alters with each cycle, breaking the linearity of time. Concurrently, Aleixo’s fluctuating pitches disrupt the rhyme of boca / toca, and the repeated words begin to sound layered. Both the looping and the pitch changes lend spatiality to the words, as their sounds bounce around the room and layer upon each other. An audience can perceive the bouncing audio-visually: Aleixo talks in one spot, and the sound moves to another spot. The performance amplifies the spatial dimension of the words over and above the temporal dimension. In effect, the words break loose from linear time.
Looping reveals some flexibility to time, but it also suggests digital perfection. Two identical videos projected on a wall behind Aleixo reinforce this theme. Aleixo’s fluctuating pitches prevent the loop effect from seeming perfect. They alternate between drum tones and register ups and downs in energy and volume; at several moments, his voice rises sharply in tone, like a record speeding up. Human imperfection enters the backdrop, too, when a third video, manipulated by another performer, momentarily descends to cover the two perfect copies, then retreats off to the side. The combination of musical sound and the raw energy of live performance underline the human dimension to the space-time dyad, suggesting human freedom in those freewheeling sounds and words.
The continually layering, bouncing sounds of “Boca” exceed the limits of time. The idea of excess reappears in the visual poem “Solo” in Modelos Vivos, which is constructed from the same four words (fig. 1). A square of five lines with five characters per line (four letters plus spaces), “Solo” resembles a solid Concrete object. The words, however, extend beyond the frame. This visual excess mirrors the aural excess in “Boca.” The poem’s round words resist their straight borders just as Aleixo’s voice exerts energy against the square room, resisting the trap of the four repeating words. Busting at the seams and bouncing against the walls, the poem exceeds the bounds set by Concrete poetry.
Figure 1. Ricardo Aleixo, "Solo." © Ricardo Aleixo. Reproduced by permission of the artist.
The title “Solo,” of course, suggests a musical score, and to an extent, the poem is a silent arrangement of signs to be sounded, with letters indicating notes, and spaces indicating pause or rhythm. The arrangement of the words—broken up, enjambed, curiously spaced, with letters running into each other and exceeding the frame—interrupts the rhyme of boca / toca and the visual semblance of também / tambor. But “Solo” also has its own sound. The unusual line breaks, besides serving to create a square, produce the syllables to / ca / ta. Resonant of staccato, the phonemes give rhythm to the page. The demands of the square also create new sounds to read or perform: tamb, em to, ca ta, mbor. These strange words necessitate improvisation; no two performances of them will be alike. The “Solo” score thus calls for its own exceeding.
“Solo”/“Boca” exceeds the terms of previous poetic movements and creates a wide notion of freedom that at once advances both individual artistic freedom and broader social liberation. Its transmedia basis breaks out of poetry’s static printed convention, and the texts’ nonlinear interaction with each other upsets the traditional relationship between musical score or written poem and performance. “Solo” literally exceeds the terms of the Concrete poem as its words bleed beyond the boundaries of the delimited, constrained poetic object—a gesture echoed by the vocal effects of “Boca.” Because “Solo” both occupies a fixed state on the page and, running out of bounds, is a poem in motion, it also exceeds the Neo-Concrete idea of poetry, which involves the reader to achieve a closed cycle. Instead, the reader interacts with a text that is continuously out of range, yet must be pursued. Moving beyond Gullar’s relational print verse into the territory of page plus live performance, where the range of sound is at its most extensive, the work’s ethical imperative comes into full dimension. The making of poems that are “obras permanentamente em obras” (“works permanently under construction”) and the performance of freedom call for complex and diverse participation, to hear a full and ever-changing chorus of barulhos in all their resonances and difference (Modelos Vivos 92).
11. “Cross-platform” is Brian M. Reed’s term for twenty-first century poets who produce and distribute their work “using a range of different means of communication” and thus “define a poem less as a one-off artwork…than as a cluster of related works in different media” (282). A given poem of Aleixo’s might exist in any combination of live performance, online recording, exhibit, and book. Like the Europe- and North America-based poets Reed discusses, Aleixo “explore[s] how a work might unfold differently under different conditions” (282).
12. In 2006, Aleixo proposed a term for his hybrid literary practice: text-jockey[ing]. Building on the DJ, VJ, and WJ (web-jockey), the TJ “opens new creative paths through the exploration, in real time, of the voice/text relationship.” (“À semelhança do DJ (disc-jockey), que manipula discos, do VJ (vídeo ou visual jockey), que reconfigura imagens e do WJ (web-jockey), que reorganiza imagens e sons apropriados da Internet, propõe-se o conceito de TJ (text-jockey) para designar um tipo de artista para o qual novos caminhos criativos se abrem a partir da exploração, em tempo real, da relação voz/textos” (“Arquivox”).) The TJ understands “text” in a broad sense, and privileges its change and interrogation through the medium of voice.
13. Música para modelos vivos movidos a moedas premiered in July 2010, preceeding Modelos Vivos by a few weeks. The performance includes thirty poems from the book, three videos, and sound generated in a range of media.
Works Cited in Part III
Aleixo, Ricardo. “Arquivox: práticas vocais nas poéticas contemporâneas.” 38º Festival de Inverno da UFMG. Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais, July 2006. 14 May 2007.
---. Boca também toca tambor. Galeria Municipal de Arte, Itajaí, Santa Catarina, Brazil. 9 Aug. 2010. akavulgo’s Channel. Ricardo Aleixo. YouTube, 30 Aug. 2010. 8 Aug. 2011.
---. Modelos vivos. Belo Horizonte: Crisálida, 2010.
---. “Música para modelos vivos movidos a moedas.” Jaguadarte – Posse de Ricardo Aleixo. Blogspot, 13 July 2010. 23 Aug. 2011.
Pereira, Edimilson de Almeida, ed. Um tigre na floresta de signos: estudos sobre poesia e demandas sociais no Brasil. Belo Horizonte: Mazza Edições, 2010.
Perloff, Marjorie, and Craig Dworkin, eds. The Sound of Poetry/The Poetry of Sound. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2009.
Reed, Brian M. “Visual Experiment and Oral Performance.” Perloff and Dworkin 270-284.
New at PennSound
PennSound has just made available 104 recordings made at the Ear Inn in the early 1990s. These include recordings by Cabri, Child, K. Davies, A. Davies, Derksen, Dewdney, DiPalma, DuPlessis, Farrell, Fitterman, Fodaski, Foster, Fyman, Gander, Gizzi, Goldsmith, Frim, Heller, Hixon, Hoover, Inman, Kalendeck, Killian, A. Kim, Kocik, Kraut, Levy, Lewis, Lubeski, Lusk, Lyons, Mac Low, Matthews, Messerli, Myles, Neilson, O’Brien, Pearson, Price, Raworth, Regan, Rettallack, Richard, Roberson, Rosenfeld, Rower, Sala, Shaw, Sirowitz, Smith, Tillman, Toscano, Venuti, K. Waldrop, R. Waldrop, Wallace, Wheeler, C.D. Wright, J. Williams, Ziolkowski, Zivancevic, Zurawski, and more.
For hundreds of other Ear Inn recordings from the Ear Inn go to the Ear Inn page at PennSound. I started to make (and then collect) these recordings in 1978, when Ted Greenwald and I started the series. And since PennSound started, we have been working on making a full set of Ear Inn recordings available. There are still plenty more to come! So stay tuned.
A good introduction to the the Ear Inn series is the 1994 CD I edited, Live at the Ear, also available on PennSound. This is what I wrote for the liner notes:
The Ear Inn, a small bar on Spring Street near Tribeca (just before it turns into the Hudson River), has been the home of arguably the best reading series in New York City over the past two decades. Ted Greeenwald and I started the Saturday afternoon series in the Fall of 1978 with a reading by John Ashbery and Michael Lally. Over the many Saturdays that followed, the audience has shifted in size, the PA system has worked and had conked out, the noise from the bar has sometimes become intrusive.
But the commitment to a continuing renewal of the art of poetry has never faltered; a commitment, that is, to a spectrum of writing that places its attention primarily on language and ways of making meaning, that takes for granted neither vocabulary, grammar, process, syntax, program, or subject matter – indeed where all these dynamics remain at play.
Over the years, the Ear Inn series has been able to retain its vitality because of the energy and judgment of the poets who have curated the program, for sometimes just a month and for sometimes several years; in particular Mitch Highfill, Jeanne Lance, Andrew Levy, Rob Fitterman, Laynie Brown, James Sherry of the Segue Foundation, George Peck of the Ear Inn have all been crucial to keeping the series going.
The series continues on at the Bowery Poetry Club. Special thanks to James Sherry of Segue Foundation, for his ongoing coordination of the series, and to the many curators. I want to also thank George Peck, long-time barkeep at the Ear, who was a huge support for the series over the years; George sent me a few boxes of cassettes he had made a while back, and those recordings form part of this new collection.
Back in 2009 I had the honor of interviewing experimental novelist Robert Coover before an audience of some 70 people and another 30 or so who were watching via webcast. I had read Coover's novels and tales over the years but this occasion culminated six weeks of intensive reading and discussion of most of his works, one after the other. What a writer! The hour-long interview has been edited down to twenty minutes and here then is that abridgment: MP3.
An interview with Lionel Fogarty
To complement the current feature on 'tabis' - Aboriginal song poetry from the Pilbara, I want to revisit the first issue of Jacket, published in 1997, in which Philip Mead, poet, anthologist and then an academic at the University of Tasmania, interviewed the contemporary Australian indigenous poet, Lionel Fogarty.
Lionel Fogarty talks about growing up on a government controlled reserve in Queensland, Cherbourg Aboriginal settlement, and about the effect of Christianity and white state education on Aboriginal traditions. He also relates the death of his brother, Daniel Yock, a dancer and song man who died in a police van, after being roughed up by the Brisbane police. Lionel was engaged in fighting for justice for his brother's death in custody.
He also talks about the kind of poetry he writes. Philip Mead said that Lionel Fogarty “opened up the new space of black Australian surrealist writing.”
Lionel says I think that with my little bit of Aboriginal language, I think what people should do is read my poetry, in an Aboriginal way, take the Aboriginal side of my language, and then reflect back on the English side.
Lionel Fogarty says that among his influences are Oodgeroo Noonuccal, Kevin Gilbert, Mudrooroo and Archie Weller, all well-known Aboriginal writers and activists from the 1960s on.
In 2004 Keeaira Press published Lionel Fogarty’s collection of poems and drawings, Minyung Woolah Binnung: What Saying Says. Here is a poem, “Mission in Action,” from that collection -
No liberated man foreholds halls
Any dashing first men
of Fathers evening
To be on menaces the devices burns
bussing on a coned
Where highway ants sea rides my
mind as if I enjoy
The laughter ranting wind dry to my hearing
dashing pass all bad good to an
Dashing over a place to stay
must temper amber within
Prevoices special too noting arts
hold story untold
To hear the people unknown don't mean
you I dem is mad
All will tycoons "cheese a face
Galleries off sea waves the wine
we drank many a many years ago
Cheated popular on the debated
on no celebrate on day
Dead my later after months
walk the bashing without
Stay where loneness is gentling as a eaten braid goals
Dead as air when drunken on smoked
Saliva a vein in
a blood pure
as love black fellas calls
fight more over
lies were sound are fig trees bake in pie to
Life's give it back
when hum black
Strife is only a rife for those refused
Fused by resisted holiness is hole seen by history
History pre hole seen above
Being glad as land is a test on cities
rests as signs dedicated to the carted land just: cause
To a strong stray, I won't stay all my life's far and wide bring
chaos to the minds, feeling in airs
React to this obscenity with laughter cunning rebellion
Wizened skies mountain moonlight times wondering packs
Feet along with a bad insult
Fuck wick hidden
behind there men's sin sips
Are as sad as a tap dipped as
penny dead coin meat head
Lay in my bed
for rest of my best
not wanting a soulless nor
No creative air lines in sheeted faceed
dog pup who licks rot garbage's
World traders high lives rich as dead
Country towns are not swearing
at my ears (yes)
This mind offal black man was always
free first flowers
Back in city bush share in was imparts
of every days lives
Sweet kisses had to pull the kindness
find the nest where freedom had no paper works
Recently Lionel Fogarty co-edited , with Ali Cobby Eckermann, an issue of Southerly magazine called A Handful of Sand: words to the frontline collecting articles, essays, poetry, short stories, song lyrics and tributes from many Australian Aboriginal writers.
Philip Mead, who is currently the inaugural Chair of Australian Literature at the University of Western Australia, wrote further about Lionel Fogarty's poetry in his ground-breaking book Networked Language: Culture & History in Australian Poetry which I reviewed in Jacket in 2009.
Here is the link to Philip Mead in conversation with Lionel Fogarty in Jacket, where there is also a link to three of Lionel Fogarty's poems -
On an evening when seven people each talked for seven minutes about some aspect of isolation, I chose to speak about a well known yet nonetheless difficult poem by Emily Dickinson.
There is a solitude of space
A solitude of sea
A solitude of death, but these
Society shall be
Compared with that profounder site
That polar privacy
A soul admitted to itself —
“A soul admitted to itself —” is an astonishingly complicated phrase, and in my little talk I invite someone (you may not be able to hear her) to respond to the various senses here of “admitted” (and admission as acceptance, membership, open-ness and confession). I believe that Dickinson turns around loneliness almost entirely here. A much “profounder” sense of solitude is that of the self with itself, self as company (“Society”). Gives a whole new meaning to the oft-used but little understand word “social.