All posts tagged: Andrew Zawacki

“Beautiful Evidence – Vispo and Videotape”

The Last Vispo Anthology: Visual Poetry 1998-2008 Nico Vassilakis & Crag Hill, editors Fantagraphics, 2012 In her essay “Broken English,” Heather McHugh explores the role of fragment in poetry, including the artwork of English artist Tom Phillips in A Humument: A Treated Victorian Novel. Phillips’ work goes beyond simple erasure—the pages of A Humument are, with their patterns, depictions, and odd geometries, works of art themselves. Their attraction is visual, and within these images the observer finds, almost like speech bubbles, fragments of text. In McHugh’s words, these fragments of text “[allude] to the Romantic operation while performing a deconstructive one.” McHugh’s terminology of the Romantic and deconstructive came to mind as I approached the Last Vispo Anthology: Visual Poetry 1998-2008. The twentieth century saw the dissolution of Romantic conventions of both image and language, and it’s fitting that, in the form of visual poetry, the new century would see the reconstitution of these fragments. In his introduction to the anthology, editor Nico Vassilakis writes, “Letters lose their chemical word attraction, their ability to bond …

Andrew Zawacki: “Videotape: 51″

This month, from Andrew Zawacki, an analogue of memory: Andrew notes that “’Videotape’ is a serial poem primarily concerned with landscape—whether natural or manufactured, oneiric or simulated—and with the various media we employ to record, juxtapose, even invent geography, not to mention ruin it.  I’m specifically interested in obsolete technologies, like VHS and Betamax, with their magnetic tape and plastic cassettes, figures of inevitable decay.  These date from my childhood—also, of course, from the Reagan era, a technocracy of scary proportions (leveled by someone who’d been a film star).  While I’ve tried to leave dramas of selfhood out of these clips—the one thing not seen in a visual field is the person behind the viewfinder—, recalling that a camera’s lens is termed the ‘objective,’ a few subjective moments have nonetheless punctured the work.  51—a love song, written while my wife was away—is among them, with its speaker’s sentiments (nostalgia bordering on pathetic) themselves articulated in an outdated mode.  (We were spending summer in Paris and had just inherited cordial glasses dating from the Second Empire …