We close in on ourselves,
then yelp that the world is awry.
*****
We had macaroni for lunch every day
except Sunday, when a small quail was induced
to be served to us. Why do I tell you these things?
You are not even here.
—”Like A Sentence,” “Tahiti Trot,” “This Room” (fragments)
John Luther Adams (1953-), The Light Within(2007); Faculty & Fellows, Bang on a Can Summer Music Festival at the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art, North Adams, Mass., 2016
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John Ashbery (July 28, 1927-September, 3, 2017)
The bad news is the ship hasn’t arrived;
the good news is it hasn’t left yet.
—He Who Loves And Runs Away (fragment; Planisphere, 2009)
Michael Vatcher, percussion (Angels’ Share, sculpture exhibition, Herbert Nouens; Westerpark, Sculpture Park), 2014
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John Ashbery, July 28, 1927-September, 3, 2017
Alcove (Planisphere, 2009)
Is it possible that spring could be
once more approaching? We forget each time
what a mindless business it is, porous like sleep,
adrift on the horizon, refusing to take sides, “mugwump
of the final hour,” lest an agenda—horrors!—be imputed to it,
and the whole point of its being spring collapse
like a hole dug in sand. It’s breathy, though,
you have to say that for it.
And should further seasons coagulate
into years, like spilled, dried paint, why,
who’s to say we weren’t provident? We indeed
looked out for others as though they mattered, and they,
catching the spirit, came home with us, spent the night
in an alcove from which their breathing could be heard clearly.
But it’s not over yet. Terrible incidents happen
daily. That’s how we get around obstacles.
mysterious, adj. Exciting wonder, curiosity, or surprise while baffling efforts to comprehend or identify. E.g., Anna Thorvaldsdottir’s Sequences.
Anna Thorvaldsdottir (1977-), Sequences (bass flute, bass clarinet, baritone saxophone, contrabassoon), 2016; International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE), live, New York, 2016
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in the big rain
gushing down
little butterfly
—Kobayashi Issa, 1763-1827 (translated from Japanese by David G. Lanoue)
This piece, in over forty years of listening, has never—not once—let me down. And this performance, which I encountered last night, is among the strongest I’ve heard.
Johann Sebastian Bach, Suite No. 5 in C minor for Unaccompanied Cello
Mischa Maisky, live, 1991
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Unable are the Loved to die
For Love is Immortality,
Nay, it is Deity –
Unable they that love – to die
For Love reforms Vitality
Into Divinity.