apologies if, as some low lobe in the pecking order is suggesting to me, i've
said *exactly* this before, in this place, (perhaps in a message to cris,
maybe, shucks, dunno), but:
before the steve'n'lawrence inquiry-loop delivers us once again to the
backyard of wanking dogs, may i (? re-)say that in my own practice, which
yokes many varieties of art and writing, texts and performances and all points
to staines, i have found it most useful to have poached a comment by william
forsythe, artistic director of ballett frankfurt:
that (and i do not quote) *choreography* is, exactly, the arrangement of
elements within a momentary space (the word 'moment' there is mine - all mine,
d'you hear, mine, scree, scree, do you hear this sutherland, the bats are
calling your name again);
which makes it a term available for use by writers and artists of all hues and
denominations, without the fraughtness of the jostlings thereabout;
and helps me (my experience tells me) to consider the 'strands' of my activity
as various expressions of one single, compact sense of myself as a
practitioner.
as so often, this apparent self-restriction is endlessly freeing,
while its active liberations return to me an onus of attention and
responsibility which i would not choose to be without, even could i.
i see of course that not all poets' experiences will devolve (or perhaps,
rather, aggregate) in this way. but again, as i keep counseling, a return to
the radical (breathed) locus of poesis can only (or may only) help us here to
unfold and to not, for once, retrench.
this horrid squit of dairylea benelux flowers-across-the-ocean yakpoop comes
to you courtesy of
:cx
--------------------------------------
Chris Goode
Director, _signal to noise_
24 Newport Road
London E10 6PJ
UK
+44 181 556 4492
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