Philip Poburka on thu 24 may 01
Janet's Post in which Mr. Cardew is quoted...got me going...awash in =
reveries...
There is this...for me:
This little Inkwell here...the odd Mug or old Plate or Bowl...
The occasional Chisel, Plane or =
wing-Dividers...scribe...Revolver...Pen...Watch or Button =
even...Fabric...
On and on...
Where there was, or is a 'purpose' for the 'form' which is in a =
genre...in an evolved or evolving pragmatism and aesthetic...an =
'address' OF some integration and regard for the dimensions of what =
something 'does'...and that there is a 'whom' who will have use of it.
These humble things...thrill me...always had...moreso than 'Art'...much =
moreso.
I do not know 'why' exactly, only 'that'.
The remarkable works and accomplishments of Mr. Chuhuly..(sp?) the =
incredable Glass Chandeliers and what...the many talents it takes to =
'do' these...and...and...
I notice in these situations...as in the 'Openning' event, or =
presentation...the construction instead, of a well made 'shoe', if there =
IS one...amid the spectators...I see the buttons on a shirt...what it =
'says'...I see a dooknob, and what it 'says'...I see a World of specious =
mediocraty and unawareness, dischord and damage, standing tip-toe to =
look at 'Art', and I ask myself, "Where is the Art in them?"
Where are the sensibilities which could attend some apprehension of =
themselves?
Of the integrities of their environment?
Of their 'daily-lives'?
'Uh-Dee-Duhs' from Pacific-Rim sweat-shops...for 'comfort' I am =
told...on a marble floor...in a 'Casino'...in the Desert...and...grubby =
at that...polyester 'slacks'...and upturned eyes...and I feel like the =
image in the old painting by Eduard MUnch (?), entitled, "The Scream"...
For this and like 'reasons' too, have I always dispaired to be at =
'concerts'...with some few exceptions...
AND if it were there, being lived, how nice the broader integrities =
would be!
'It' meaning the presence IN people, of the 'that' they pay so much TO =
'apprehend' or to 'own'...or to 'have' as an objectified allusional =
accretion OF something...as 'beauty', as vividness, as 'Life'?
'Wealth' would assume an internal dynamic qualitative and integrateing =
'role', rather than a Political - and possibly Simian-Status one.
I am THERE! I am 'present' to wittness great accomplishments...but =
oddly...they seldom hold my attention...and the things that 'do'...are =
'about' something else.
I notice the light swimming of phylogenetic 'layers' in =
faces...hands...the shadows that cover or eminate in disowned 'hands', =
legs...tense masks of Face and stance...I notice =
clothes...details...history...posture...how a 'heel' is =
worn...teeth...eyes...
and...and...I notice 'distance'...'adaptation' not only 'to', but =
'from'...the convoluted pretenses and conventionalized deceptions and =
masquerades...
'Art' worth Millions...
I always 'spent' myself quickly in 'Museums'...and in a way, I never =
liked their lonliness...their abstraction 'from' life.
'Galleries' I am disposed TO 'like'...one can 'breathe'...
Even as in the 'exhibits' of so called 'Natural-History'...the macabre =
dessicated corpse of some 'Kit-Fox' amid sorry old Plant stems and =
little rocks...'in' a case...on a shelf...in a building...and yes, I =
appreciate it's purpose...and yes, it also seem sad and lonesome...so =
very far from when it gamboll'd and leapt, snuggled or snuffed the =
winds.
And I get this too, from other things...I want to let the 'Fox' go!
Let them gambol again...and stretch out in nuzzleing the grasses that =
nod in the breezes...'do' what they were built TO do...
And not be so far from the context OF their 'poise'...
And...in a way...with some things...one can...one can 'do' this...
Amid the orphans, amid the 'sung' and 'unsung' of subtle Heros whose =
repose had them dusty in some back room of a junk store...there...THERE =
sometimes...some little 'thing'...some annonomous accretion and =
testimony to elegance...genious...grace.
Or celebration and humour IN the discipline of a 'form' of some =
kind...could be almost 'anything'...an old 'Bowl'...or...pair of =
'pliers'...
These 'get' me...so much more than the things that are 'supposed' to...
It is not lost on me...that there are these Works of Genious and Art...I =
see them...I nod and take my hat off...I do give my attention, and pay =
attention as well TO the attention I pay...and it is IN that...that it =
all changes sometimes...
The gentle gasp of sympathy and admiration for me, more often is in the =
apprehension...of something 'else'...
And the this OF this, is present to me, for me, in reading Janet's Post =
today...of Mr. Cardew...
And...it is Good...
There is no way it could not.
That is the 'thing'...
The 'presence' IN the present...
It lives...stealthy, as it may be...weaving as it must TO =
survive...blinking from amid the weeds and grasses...shy perhaps...even =
as is said...of a 'Fox'...
Philip
Las Vegas...
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