Navy

My search, at first, was arbitrary. It never led me to anything that I enjoyed effusively; maybe I might have enjoyed something, but only ironically. So I started looking for names that were non-Western, particularly Asian names. I wanted to read/see/hear their perspective on poetry and poetics. And because I am a very visual person, as most art students are, I gravitated towards the genres of film, visual poetry, and even dance. Here are my favorites in no particular order.

Bojangles of Harlem from Swing Time, 1936. Fred Astaire, 1899-1987.
(http://www.ubu.com/film/astaire_bojangles.html)
I’ve always had a love for dance. As a child, I used to put on my Sunday shoes because the heels made the most noise on tile, and I would attempt to tap dance in the foyer because it was the only place in the house that wasn’t covered in vinyl or carpet. I enjoyed the sound my feet made. And I was surprised, but extremely delighted to see Fred Astaire on this site. At the time of its release, I imagine it was celebrated as an amazing performance and awesome spectacle with the way he used shadows. But watching it
today, there is a bit of unease in seeing such a respected artist made up in black-face and giving one of his best performances. I imagine that is the reason why this performance is part of the Ubu collection since his other works aren’t listed, nor do I see Sinatra or Ginger Rogers. It’s also interesting that Ubu does not mention the cultural impact of black-face but mentions instead, the use of camera tricks. However, this is a “homage to Bill “Bojangles” Robinson,” but there is a 2011 NYT’s article by Alastair
Macauly that poses the question: Tribute or Caricature? What I like about the video’s presence on Ubu is that it hints on the topic but celebrates the artistry, almost diplomatically.

Cusive, 2001. Lin Hwai-min, b. 1947.
(http://www.ubu.com/dance/hwai_cursive.html)
I still love dance and have since learned to appreciate the shapes that bodies made when they dance, separate from the sound their feet may make, sometimes avoiding sound. Dancers can leap in the air and land softly. That is a mark of true skill and technique. This is captured by Lin in her 60-minute ode to Chinese calligraphy, collaborating with the Cloud Gate Dance Theatre of Taiwan. Using Tai Chi and
martial arts, the dancers draw these beautiful images with their bodies, like waves leaning against the wind. There are moments when the dancers move like the strokes of a Chinese character in the background. While I thought it was unnecessary to blatantly explain to the viewer the purpose of the piece, it was still beautifully done. In fact, it may have been Lin’s intention to have the calligraphy mimic the dancers and not the other way around.

comes sabotag, 2000. Takayuki Nakano.
(http://www.ubu.com/sound/nakano.html)
What a strange disambiguation of language. Sometimes I thought I heard English, sometimes maybe Japanese, other times perhaps German. And it was clear after about 10 minutes in, that Nakano’s focuswas in the sound created by  the human voice or mouth, throat, and tongue, and not the language created by sound. He may have even been reading or citing his words in reverse. I should have become difficult for me to listen to, but I received it with a sense of whimsy. Ubu has little to say about the artist, and I couldn’t find anything past a superficial web search of his/her name which only led to other instances of this recording. However, it was interesting to find a sort of track listing: bad cramp (6:13)
dreams of yore (3:19) ffrench (7:22) how weak we are (4:00) vivid girl (6:50) hello, Hibernia! (7:38) oncontinent Eringrowback (9:13) you my pledge (3:52), which further confirms my suspicions of the intent of this piece. The work and the artist still remain a mystery to me but it adds to my enjoyment, this feeling of anonymity nearly. I’m still not certain if I enjoy this with irony or sincerity.

The Cosmic Chef: An Evening of Concrete, 1970. bpNichol, ed & multiple artists.
(http://www.ubu.com/vp/Cosmic_Chef.html)
What a great sense of humor along with an eye for design. There is a wise use of space on the page,and the pacing from one page to the next is harmonious. At first, I thought I enjoyed the drawings more, but the more often I view it, the more appreciative I am of the typographical works. They remind me of the Gestalt exercises that I used to whine about having to do but now enjoy immensely.

Eunoia: Chaper e (for rené crevel). Christian Bök. (http://www.ubu.com/contemp/bok/eunoia_final.html)
I made an audible “Oooooo” when I first came across this work. It’s the only one in which I encountered the use of flash animation. The effect of overlapping and crossfading typography with the movement andinteractivity—it could  only have been achieved in this digital manner, and I applaud the craftsmanship of Brian Kim Stefan’s technical work. Bök’s artistry does not go unnoticed though. His ability to write comprehendible sentences, although silly or immaterial, while still being able to paint with typography,
particularly the letter “e”, is admirable.

The Dreamlife of Letters. Brian Kim Stefans.
(http://www.ubu.com/contemp/stefans/dream/index.html)
After seeing Stefans’ work in Eunola, I was excited to preview some of his other works. As a pracitioner and student of the Motion Graphics field, this one resonated with me immediately. It is a really enjoyable format to experience the poem. He uses the letterforms very beautifully and economically and applies a very seasoned or gifted sense of motion and space (X, Y, & Z). I had a bit of a graphic-designer-orgasm.

One Letter At A Time Pieces. Brian Kim Stefans.
(http://www.ubu.com/contemp/stefans/kluge/ubu_index.htm)
Stefans is quickly becoming one of my favorite artists. This series is a great example as to why. In this collection, he takes popular poems (Ginsberg’s Howl, Creeley’s I Know A Man) and separates eachcharacter, disembodying them  from the words that were written. Every letter and punctation is there for only a split second, accompanied only by the sound of a typewriter key being pushed. It’s as if the viewis there with the author, scanning the page, letter by letter, as they write. If someone is familiar with the poem, it may be possible to follow along and “read.” But I think it’s better to experience it one letter at a time. It allows for this feeling of infinity to overtake the audience.

BOB BROWN: 1450–1950, 1928–29. Bob Brown, b. c1920.
(http://www.ubu.com/historical/brown/brown26.html)
Content-wise, it sounds like the rantings of a creative genius. Visually, it looks like the drawings of a creative genius. There’s this feeling of strong connection between youth and adulthood within this pages.Furthermore, it looks like the precedent for future graphical works, like Post-Modern designer Sagmeister. It’s entertaining and while it’s not that long, it is seemingly endless. The corresponding link
leads to one of my favorite spreads.

Part I, Compendio del Gran Volume de l'Arte del Ben Scrivere" Rome, 1566.
Giovanni Battista Palantino Sonetto.
I found this in the “Historical” section, and it reminded me of this children’s gameshow I used to watch on Nickelodeon. It’s clever and charming and provides some of the foundation for the graphical language we have today, particularly mobile text speech—emoticons, type-character drawings, etc.

Camp Printing, 1970. Rosmarie Waldrop.
(http://www.ubu.com/vp/Waldrop.html)
It’s similar to Bök’s and Stefans’ Eunola, just on paper. However, I might say that it’s more musical in it’s approach, not as random. There is control in what seems to be visual chaos, and I find it soothing. I dowonder if Waldrop used this poem by James Camp in mockery or in tribute. I could argue the latter considering how much I enjoyed it visually, but that may sting Camp more if the former was actually true.