writing. right now. writenowrightnow.wordpress.com
Clifford Owens at PS1. Read my review at Untapped New York!
Moyra Davey at Murray Guy gallery. Read my article at Untapped New York!
Why I Am Not a Painter
Frank O’Hara
I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,
for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
“Sit down and have a drink” he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. “You have SARDINES in it.”
“Yes, it needed something there.”
“Oh.” I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. “Where’s SARDINES?”
All that’s left is just
letters, “It was too much,” Mike says.
But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven’t mentioned
orange yet. It’s twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike’s painting, called SARDINES.
Conceptual artist Marta Minujín at her first “happening” La Destrucción in Paris. She piled mattresses along the Impasse Roussin and invited other avant-garde artists to destroy the display.
A photo of Marta and the unburned mattresses can be seen here.
oh my god yes burn it down
“A work of art doesn’t have to be explained. If you do not have any feeling about this, I cannot explain it to you. If this doesn’t touch you, I have failed.”
Louise Bourgeois
“Walking, in particular drifting, or strolling is already—within the speed of culture of our time—a kind of resistence. But it also happens to be a very immediate method for unfolding stories. It’s an easy, cheap act to perform.”
-Francis Alys