“Charles Bernstein uses words as a surgeon uses a scalpel. He strips away the skin and cuts to the bone to reveal reality and—ultimately—to heal. This essential collection from 30 years of cutting edge work will confirm Bernstein as our true poet laureate—the voice of a new generation.” —John Zorn
Arkadii Dragomoschenko New York, Nov, 4, 2010 (silent) Susan, Felix, and I visited Arkadii and Zena in Petersburg in August 2001. One day outside our hotel a group of gypsies surround us and Xena swung her purse at them in such a convincing way that they immediately disbanded. Another day we took a boat ride on the Neva, sipping brandy as we glided through the city. Arkadii wrote a dedication for Susan and me in a book of his that day: "Isn't it important that the glass of brandy in the morning is more important than poetry. With all my love after endless picnics." I didn't see Arkadii again until he came to Philadelphia and New York nine years later. We hung out in one of the Columbia offices before his reading. Arkadii died two years later. It was the last time I saw him.
Martina Kudláček and Peter Kubelka on Monday after the New York Film Festival premiere of Kudláček's Fragments of Kubelka, a lucid, engrossing portrait of the man and his thinking.
