Kijk, dit gebeurt er nou met je als je in Vlaanderen dichter bent. 40 jaar (VEERTIG jaar!) na je dood krijg je een debuutbundel. En dan nog niet bij een officiële poëzie-uitgever maar bij zoiets als het academische VUBPress. Ok, ik schat dus dat mijn 'verzamelde gedichten' ergens tussen '70 en '80 van deze eeuw zullen uitkomen. Jantje, toch...
I've been thinking about this one for a very long time. It is amazing that in times of ipad, iphone and ebooks, that you still have something like this original handicraft. Don't be fooled by the cover though. The Dutch and English poems inside this precious handmade book are no less than daring, modern and very experimental. 'Il faut être absolument moderne', like Rimbaud once said. Well, this is what they call: modernism and tradition in one volume. The inclusion of original English poems by my hand even give it a somewhat broader international perspective than the very narrowminded local Dutch and Flemish literary scene. It remains a very beautfull artefact to be owned by few. To be continued hopefully... www.anequibutine.com, anequibutine@gmail.com
En voorwaar: in vergelijking met de poëtische non-events van de laatste weken, de bijna doodgezwegen fenomenale trilogie rond Jan G. Elburg, de minst bekende van de Vijftigers, die minstens één gevleugelde uitspraak op de wereld losliet en toch één klassiek gedicht schreef dat naast Kouwenaar en Lucebert nog steeds bestudeerd wordt in de middelbare scholen hier te lande. Iets met de wind en het huis. Binnenkort: hier!
Ooit schreef ik dit erg bevlogen artikel over de luxueuze box poëzie, proza en documentatie van de 'vergeten' Hollandse schrijver Arie Visser in 2007 uitgegeven door Prometheus: http://www.urbanmag.be/artikel/1206/leven-na-de-dood.
There was a time when Christian Fennesz was really innovative. These times are long gone. 'Seven stars' for all its beauty hardly raised my interest. Oh yes, nice sleeve and nice drums by Steven Hess. Great, but... Fennesz must feel this too. The time lapses between solo releases are getting longer. The collaborations though... Here is one with the eternal mr Sakamoto. He already worked with Alva Noto last year and here is one with Fennesz. It's a double album. I like the 2nd one more. Although the name of Fennesz comes in the 1rst place, you can barely notice him in the overall sound. This is nice soft pianomusic with a twist like sun shining through rainclouds or the other way around. There are some very nice moments like track 8 of disc 2. But it remains good background music. Not more!
Wow! I'm already completely in love with this record sleeve... Hard Coming Love by Hard Coming Love on Spezialmaterial out on February 18. Rock'n'roll with Hard Coming Love is the mantra.
Bodies To Ghosts by Hard Coming Love from glenn breda on Vimeo.
"From the cellars of the Aussersihl corner of Zurich booms a heavy, grinding sound, a deep torrent of pulsating energy. When the six men play, each plays every instrument in support of a psychedelic, hypnotic, wobbling wall of sound. When crowd and band sweat in unison, everybody knows: Love never comes easy. Love comes hard. It's a HARD COMING LOVE." Hard Coming Love by Hard Coming Love comes out on February 18 on www.spezialmaterial.ch.
This reminded me of the sense and nonsense of CENSORSHIP. Being CENSORED as a poet is not even a bad idea. It certainly has some advantages. It adds some mystery and magic to the CENSORED poem. Nowadays it is even an honour to be CENSORED. My poem is saved because of CENSORSHIP. Oh yes, when a poem is published you are open to criticism and scorn. But if you publish only your name and the title of the poem, well... What can they say? What can they do? The poet is visible but the poem remains 'invisible'. You know the poem exists but you can't even read it. Poets should be CENSORED once in a while. Only then they are real poets. There must be something really dangerous and subversive about them to get CENSORED. Why else would they get CENSORED? Poems should be worked upon in total silence and in secret far from the social media. Far away from the public eye. Then the poets will be really worshipped. Consider me as the Osip Mandelstam of Dutch poetry sent to my own Siberia. It is a real honour. (Also: the censorer is mostly wrong as was proven many times by history).
Oren Ambarchi used to be the uncrowned king of suspended guitar notes. 'Suspension' from 2001 is after 10 years still a worthy masterpiece. The album created a new genre. In 10 years time Ambarchi gained a lot of respect and he worked together with everyone in the experimental scene with music ranging from suspended ambient to sheer noise. His new album 'Audience of one' on the Touch label is kind... of a milestone too. Audience of one? Yes! But Ambarchi is not alone on this record. His trademark guitar playing is here nicely integrated in a set of 4 tracks with lots of collaborators like Eyvind Kang, Joe Talia, Crys Cole, Jessica Kenney and many others. 'Salt' features lyrics and voice of Paul Duncan from Warm Ghost, an Australian band well worth seeking out. 'Knots' is a different beast, a freakout free improv trip of 33 minutes, which reminded me a lot of New Zealand improv scene of the nineties. 'Passage' and 'Fractured Mirror' are vintage Ambarchi tracks but executed with such brilliance! The year only started and here is already a masterpiece. 'Audience of one' from Oren Ambarchi comes out on the 30th January 2012!
Oh, I was impressed by Francisco López and Reinier Van Houdt deconstructing the piano on 'Untitled #275'. And I was even more astounded by Reinhold Friedl's (Zeitkratzer) 2 hour trip inside the piano. But this is even more radical & extreme... 'Guts' really means the insides of a piano. You don't know what you hear when you listen to this. Sometimes the sound of shrieking metal. Sometimes the sound of trampled & shattered glass. This is an eeping, screeping record. It's abrasive but the funny thing is: I actually enjoyed listening to this Menche album. It's not just noise. He has a method. There's a method in all this madness. Or maybe there's not. Daniel Menche simply destroys the image of the piano as a romantic instrument for once and for all in exactly 4 movements: 'Guts 1', 'Guts 2', 'Guts 3' and 'Guts 4'. So, guts, guts, guts & bloody guts. A piano that screams like a tortured chihuahua. What about that? And oh yes... The x-ray photo on the cover does show the guts of a chihuahua dog. Impressive stuff!There are no others there is only us from Michal Jacaszek on Vimeo.
New wave of Polish composers! Here's Jacaszek. Btw, gorgeous videoclip by Marc Silver. I just keep looking & looking & looking... There is something in the flight of these birds. A language we don't master.
Wols - "Unframe" on Pingipung - www.pingipung.de
