>> The abandoned upright girder in the dump speaks for itself..
>
> But does it? A bit of rust. A bit of flaking. There it is.
>
> Among the heaps of brick and plaster lies
> a girder, still itself among the rubbish.
>
>
> The girder seems to receive an explanation from Reznikoff, even a moral one
> "still itself", as he is often doing in his little poems, like the traffic
> light jewel & the dew on the grass.
True, Edmund, but he does not go beyond the elucidation (granted 'moral')
and take it into larger personal metaphor and/or lecture.
>
> I prefer Anthony Caro's brightly painted girders. They have titles such as
> The Orangerie.
That's taste, and pretty, too. I actually like Caro to a point - then I veer
to Richard Serra (those rust/orange patinas that come from enormous heat),
as well as the broken mirror and gravel side of Smithson (where what some
may say is ugly, I find a beauty.
Cheers, for beaty, too,
Stephen V
>
> Best,
>
> Edmund
|