Posts By Dave Bonta

Dave Bonta is a poet, editor, and web publisher from the Appalachian mountains of central Pennsylvania.

locating faraway objects by Kate Greenstreet

This was made for The Volta: Medium, a weekly video column that often features poetry. Greenstreet also posted the text to her website.

Videopoetry classification: a Russian system

A Russian videopoetry classification scheme shows some interesting parallels with British and North American thinking about the hybrid genre, which — I’m guessing from the name of the site — is called Videopojezija (Видеопоэзия) in Russian. Since the site includes foreign as well as Russian videos, I assume their classification is meant to be universal, and as the closing note indicates, they welcome criticism and suggestions.

Here’s a Google translation of the page, amended to reflect the word choices in a summary at the Text in Art blog (which is how I learned about it). I’ve done my best to render Google’s amazingly good machine translation into something resembling idiomatic English, but this has invariably involved some guess-work since I don’t know any Russian. I invite Russian speakers to suggest corrections and improvements, and I’ll amend the post accordingly.

Classification

Depending on the purpose, videopoetry can be categorized in various ways: by content, by technical devices employed, on a territorial or chronological basis … Plus one can also add all the known classifications for each of the included arts and combinations of these. But in the synthesis of two arts there is at least one base, which describes the nature of communication of one art with another. Let’s try to identify this classification, and since it seems most interesting to the authors of this resource, it will form the basis for the structure of the site.

Note that in any art it is very difficult to strictly classify anything — there are too many variations, and our case is no exception, so any one videopoetic film or video can be assigned to multiple categories simultaneously.

So, in our view, taking the nature of the poetic text and the visual aspects into account, videopoetry should be divided into:

  • documentary (dokumentalnaja)

    The reader is at the center in this videopoetry type. It can move in a certain space, its image can be combined with other visual images or alternate them, but most importantly: reading is the main object of the image. It is very difficult to distinguish this case from a simple video-recording of poetry recitation. Usually videopoetic clips contain additional meanings introduced into the text by the video. Whereas simple video carries no additional imagery.
    We think that such works can be called documentary because they contain a particular record, a real-life act of reading the poem.

  • textual (tekstograficheskaja)

    In the center of the clip: the image of the written text. It can be superimposed on a shaped video sequence, can pass in a running line or move, as titles. May be reproduced in sign language or even as a physical object is made of a material and filmed. In this video a written text is always present in the frame. A feature of this species is that it can be free of audio or only contain music, without sounding text.

  • illustrative (illjustrativnaja)

    In these videos, visuals are almost a verbatim repetition of all the images of the poem. These clips are called “akin” (?) because they are made on a “what I see, I sing” basis. Technically, this method is embodied in different ways: through drawings or photos illustrating every word in a poem, or by picture-stories very similar to the plot of the work.

  • conceptual (konceptualnaja)

    Here the storyline visuals are associated with a poem on the level of ideas, while making it more meaningful. In the video and in the text of such a project, the different images used relate on an associative level. The video may contain a completely different reality than the ones described in the verse, but they look like an organic whole, complement each other, creating a new one.

  • story/plot (sjuzhetnaja)

    In this film, the poem itself is pushed to the background, giving way to a video scene. The sound of the text in this video may take even less than 50% of the duration. Usually, this is more like a video/short film containing poetic inserts.

  • musical (muzykalnaja)

    The focus of the film isn’t the poem, but the music to which it is put. Visuals are rhythmically linked to a greater extent with the music, part of what’s lost without words (?). These are close to music videos.

  • visual (vizualnaja)

    This is a special genre of videopoetic movies from which a poetic text is absent. Poetic quality in such videos is achieved by other means. Rhythm is present directly in the video.

This classification is not definitive. Constructive criticism and additions are welcome.
When using this classification, please refer to us.

Radio Carbon by Tim Cumming

Tim Cumming is a major British poet-filmmaker whose work I’ve just recently learned about. Radio Carbon was especially interesting to me since I’ve been watching a lot of archaeological documentaries in which radiocarbon dating features heavily. Here’s the description from Vimeo:

When cosmic rays strike the atmosphere they create the radioactive isotope carbon 14, which can be detected in living matter and decays at a fixed rate over many millennia. Radiocarbon dating is the method by which we measure prehistoric time, and with which our own detritus will one day be measured.
The filmpoem Radio Carbon takes this transient yet permanent record of time as a personal metaphor, fashioning a hypnotic journey into the human past, from the neolithic to the present moment.
It’s a film with eternity at its centre, the vastness of space at its core, and a reverie of images clustering to the lens like the flashing in a stranger’s eye.

This is in 24 numbered sections, and may be viewed as a sequence of separate, interlocking filmpoems with recurring motifs. Cummings shot the film’s 8mm footage in addition to doing all the editing — a major undertaking for a film of this length. His profile at Salt Publications says that Radio Carbon “was premiered at the Renoir cinema in 2009 and at Port Eliot Festival in 2010.”

I Want To Die While You Love Me by Georgia Douglas Johnson

This mash-up by Othniel Smith is so wrong, it’s right: images from Red Detachment of Women accompany a Librivox reading of a classic poem from the Harlem Rennaissance poet Georgia Douglas Johnson. I hope her heirs have a sense of humor.

Three poems by Alejandra Pizarnik

I wanted to start the New Year with one of my favorite poets. This is Todo hace el amor con el silencio: tres poemas de Alejandra Pizarnik by Hernán Talavera. Here are the three texts along with some rough translations. (Feel free to suggest improvements in the comments.)

[El olvido]

en la otra orilla de la noche
el amor es posible

-llévame-

llévame entre las dulces sustancias
que mueren cada día en tu memoria

[Oblivion]

on the other side of night
love is possible

-take me-

take me among sweet substances
which every day vanish from your memory

[no. 22 de “Árbol de Diana”]

en la noche
un espejo para la pequeña muerta
un espejo de cenizas

[from “Tree of Diana,” #22]

in the night
a mirror for the dead little girl
a mirror of ashes

[de Aproximaciones]

La niña que fui
ahora en mi memoria
entre mis muertos.

De lágrimas se nutrirá mil años.
De destierro el sonido de su voz.

[from Approximations]

The girl I was
lives now in my memory
among the dead.

Fed on tears for a millennium.
Exiling the sound of her voice.

Close readings/viewings at The Third Form

This month’s “Third Form” column by Erica Goss features close readings of three videopoems: Profile by R.W. Perkins, The City by Marie Silkeberg and Ghayath Almadhoun, and I-poem 6 by Pablo Lopez Jordan. A couple of snippets:

Jordan is a filmmaker, not a poet, but he states that “to use a poem as a script for a video is a great exercise of liberation. When you work with a poem, the structure is more open and increases the chances of experimentation.”

[…]

“I wanted to show little things from ordinary life; words make those insignificant things grow in importance,” Jordan said. The poem appears as text on fragments of torn paper at the bottom of the screen, where it becomes part of the visual collage of shadows, graffiti, trees and sky. Jordan writes that he stayed away from high definition for this video, preferring what he calls a “domestic camera.” This gives the video a handmade look, like that of a very well-done home movie. This was to honor the poem, which Jordan describes as “very emotional, bright and totally real.”

Read the rest.

What we had has not yet been by Jan Baeke

Another one of the Public Thought collaborations between Dutch poet Jan Baeke and media artist Alfred Marseille. Let me quote the description at Vimeo in full:

Originally conceived as an interactive installation for the 2007 Literature and New Media project in the Waag, Amsterdam, this production by Jan Baeke and Alfred Marseille mixes poetry, moving images and sound in a movie directed by words, and talks about memory, longing, the misguided monologue and the meaning of the kitchen in modern society.
Images and sounds are mainly drawn from the Prelinger archives.
This version is an entirely new edit made for the 2011 Beijing Book Fair and also featured at the 2011 Noorderzon festival in Groningen (Netherlands).
Text: Jan Baeke
Editing: Alfred Marseille
English translation: Willem Groenewegen

(The Waag, incidentally, is an old city gate and guild hall, “the oldest remaining non-religious building in Amsterdam.”)

There’s also a version in Mandarin Chinese.

El pájaro revolucionario (The Revolutionary Bird) by Oscar Alfaro

This is LoCo by Azucena Losana, a Mexican multimedia artist based in Buenos Aires. The soundtrack is a poem by the Bolivian poet Oscar Alfaro, recited by Jorge Cafrune with English subtitles translated by Roger Colom.

Event review of Alastair Cook’s “Absent Voices”

Writing for the Scottish Review of Books, Theresa Muñoz reviews a live screening and performance of Alastair Cook‘s “Absent Voices” series of filmpoems. Since I’ve never personally seen a filmpoem screening done in what might be called a karaoke-like fashion, with the poet present to read the text while live musicians performed the soundtrack, I was especially interested in hearing how well these videos worked in that context.

When folk read poems, images sparked from the narrative float through their minds. Alastair Cook’s own brand of Filmpoems, whereby the poet reads his work against a running 8mm or 16mm short film, provides the audience with a firm set of visuals. It’s an intriguing art form which both expands and contracts the poem’s possibilities, as the audience tries to thematically integrate the text with the established visuals of the film (and soundtrack). The majority of Cook’s Filmpoems are lush, evocative and dark creations filmed in the derelict sugar shacks on the James Watt Dock in Greenock.

Set in the Scottish Poetry Library’s cosy downstairs area, the setting was that of a makeshift cinema. A white screen hung from the high wall. A golden clarsach, later trilled by Rita Bradd, stood in the corner. Musician Luca Nasciuti was on hand to provide a haunting soundtrack. Cook began by describing how the batch of film poems came about. Commissioned by the arts collective Absent Voices, Cook asked seven poets to contribute a work: Gerard Rudolf, Jane McKie, Brian Johnstone, John Glenday, JL Williams and Sheree Mack. The poets were each given archived pictures of the sugar industry and watched a short film about the dilapidated buildings.

Read the rest.

Apocalypse Later by Michael Anthony Ricciardi

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XATMw6d8DMk

A great example of remix videopoetry from before the YouTube era. Michael Anthony Ricciardi, whose YouTube channel is called Video Poetry TV, says of this piece:

An alternative perspective on ‘the end of the world’. This video poem received a ‘top ten finalist’ award at the Cin(e)-Poetry Festival XXII (San Fran, 1998). It was made with original, found, and some appropriated footage (analog). Soundtrack composed of sampled radio, original moog, acoustic guitar riffing and vocal.

Mouth by Timothy David Orme

You’ve probably heard of erasure poetry, “a form of found poetry created by erasing words from an existing text in prose or verse and framing the result on the page as a poem.” This is an erasure film with a poem in the soundtrack, as Timothy David Orme explains at CutBank, where “Mouth” is the December feature in their recently launched new media series, jərˈmān.

“Mouth” is a short erasure film that visually displays the remaining portions of a 35mm trailer that have not been scraped away, and aurally features the reading of a poem titled, simply, “Mouth.”

Oseka (Low Tide) by Marina Cetkovic

In Croatian (or possibly Serbian; Google Translate indicates the former) with subtitles. The English version of the description reads:

Stop-motion video poetry after an original poem.
A moving poem. A shore-body. A picture of words. A moving picture of the body. A body-picture. Aground on the shore. A wave of words on the body shore. A wave is a body of the wave. The word is a wave of the body.