Tuesday, March 28, 2023

louise nevelson .... i use to like the huge assembly of black wood they kept in the tate gallery years ago ... but never took the trouble to explore her work further ... silly me !






























 










"I had, shall we say, an audience with Louise Nevelson. God, she was grand--and yet simplistic. Don't ask me how she did this. Every actress to whom I have told the story of our encounter has wanted to know how she could be so grand, so imperious, and yet direct and accessible. She was remarkable. 'Let's not worry about being blocked,' she told me, using the royal 'we' to comment upon those who make things for a living or for inspiration. 'One is not blocked; one is merely lazy or thinking of something better. There is no excuse for not working and getting it better.' And she's right. You take a piece of wood or marble, or a string of words, or some tubes of paint, and you do what you can. That's working. And you hope and pray that it matters. But there really is no excuse for not getting to it."

Tennessee Williams/Interview with James Grissom/1982. Photograph by Cecil Beaton.


Louise Nevelson - Wikipedia


https://youtu.be/gf1V2mJJAus

































Thursday, March 9, 2023

jake thackray's last will and testament


 










Ear worms ... some just won't fit because they are so miraculously complicated ... it has taken me hours to transcribe Jake Thackray's Last Will and Testament so far ... and I still haven't entirely understood it's rule-breaking boundary-challenging deliberate structural mis-fits ...

 

 (13) Jake Thackray - Last Will and Testament - YouTube


I, the under-mentioned,

By this document …

Do declare my true intentions,

My last will, my testament.

 

When I turn up me toes, when I rattle me clack, when I agonise,

I want no great wet weepings, no tearing of hair, no wringing of hands,

No sighs, no lack-a-days, no woe-is-me's, and none of your sad adieus.

Go, go, go and get the priest and then go get the booze … Boys …

 

Death, where is thy victory?  Grave, where is thy sting?

When I snuff it, bury me quickly, then let carousals begin …

 

But not a do with a few ham sandwiches, a sausage roll or two and "A small port wine, please" 

Roll the carpet right back, get cracking with your old Gay Gordons

And your knees up, shake it up, live it up, sup it up, hell of a kind of a time …

And if the coppers come around, well, tell them ... the party's mine … Boys …

 

Let best beef be eaten, fill every empty glass,
Let no breast be beaten, let no tooth be gnashed.

 

Don't bother with a fancy tombstone or a big-deal angel or a little copper flower pot plant

A dog-rose in my eyes or a pussy-willow but no forget-me-nots,

No epitaphs, no keepsakes; you can let me memory slip

You can say a prayer or two for me soul then, but make it quick … Boys …

 

Lady, if your bosom is heaving, don't waste your bosom on me

Let it heave for a man who's breathing, a man who feels, a man who can see

 

And to my cronies, you can read my books, you can drive around in my motor car

And you can fish your trout with my fly and tackle, you can play on my guitar,

And sing me songs, wear me shirts, you can even settle me debts

You can kiss my little missus if she's willing then, but no regrets … Boys …

 

Your rosebuds are numbered,

Gather them now for rosebuds' sake,

And if your hands aren't too encumbered

Gather a bud or two for Jake.