Monday, October 14, 2013

Conversations, 1am on Sunday morning

For C.H.:

The shape of a forge, the shape of an anvil, the weight of hammer, these are not the same as the thing that emerges from the work of these tools, though, in an important way, it is linked to it.  Each forge proposes a range of heat, each anvil, a range of surfaces, each hammer, a range blows, each ingot a temperament of material.  From these, the imagination is driven towards the kinds of objects that can be made, and what forms are possible.  At first, this range of possible form arises seems to have a limit, a set of standards by which the things made may be engaged, understood, evaluated, and compared.  But as a smith gains understanding, when the smith gains fluidity between his or her body, the forge, the anvil, the hammer, the ingot, possibilities arise for made things that seemed, at first, untenable.  In this deeper sensibility, which is a desire born from experiencing, a need to modify tools arises.  A tried and true hammer must be lighter, and anvil smaller, harder, an ingot, more pure or more sullied, a forge hotter or cooler.  New shapes and tools arise, new processes form from the desire elicited by the intimate understanding of older shapes, older tools, and older processes.  The new things become attainable and are made, given, experienced.  All of this is to say that a tool or process is, in some way, the thing itself, but not, not at all.

When a respected and accomplished smith says, "This is the my hammer, this is my forge, this is my anvil..." the familial and somewhat objective stance of the statements have arisen from a deeply interrelated set of experiences.  And we listen.  If we could examine their tools, materials, actions, and thoughts we would find that they bear the accumulating marks of making.  When a younger (by which I mean experience and not age) speaks securely and assuredly of the same however, saying "This is the only hammer, this the only ingot, this the only..., we might need to pause and examine their tools, watch their process, sit with their thoughts, as we may find that there is no similar mark upon them that evidences the evolution of process and form in the more accomplished smith.  And if the younger smith holds to tightly to a the absolute idea of a particular tool or process over time, he or she will not be able to make the modifications necessary by which their imaginations may grow out enough in their making to desire the forms that cannot, at first, be made.  

If we turn to photographic practice we find this as well.  The ideas and the images an artist creates arise from the process of work that is available through the tools and material (subjects) that artist has used or encounters.  At first the tools, the process, and therefore the ideas and images, are heavily governed by the weight of the tradition that introduces one to them.  One is learning his or her way into form.  But as intimacy is achieved, and fluidity marks the body with breadth, then desire arises and imagines us into modification.  C.S. said this well...it is evolution, necessity being its generator.  Precedence is in the necessity and therefore essentially in the new thing, whether image or idea, that arises.  One has to then, I think, make room for modification and see it happening at all these levels of interactions erotically.  Practice is not more essential than idea, and idea is not more essential than practice, but rather both, tugging at each other, generating form.  The artwork is not the tools, but cannot exist without their instance.  The artwork is not the material, but is made from it.  The material is not the process, but shaped by it, just as process is in turned shaped by the materials willful acceptance or resistance.  Things are messy in this way.  

To secure too tightly a sense of the 'right' way to do things, the 'right' tools for the job, or the 'right' materials, may preempt this process.  Purpose may be served, objects made, sight had, but no or little evolution.  

Evolution is a trusting act.  It is not like a rule, or a doctrine that is set up like a rule.  It always carries with it the potential of extinction, which we may see here as doubt, the potential not to be (to be right, to be finished, to be whole).  But this is not to say it lacks confidence.  In fact, it had fidelity with many things, and gathers these to strength like leaves muster their strength from the cold air and diminishing light to bring forth their final brilliance.  Though a marker of death, they are the last trusting action of the tree, which is already looking beyond itself to Spring.

Thursday, June 20, 2013


Letter from Fresno, Revisited


Dear N-

I cannot offer a sense of what we can do to stem the tide of this sublimely difficult sea change our planet finds itself moving through. Part of the difficulty we face is knowing so much and feeling such inability for our actions to respond properly or effectively. I immediately thought of Tu Fu's poems after we ended our call. Writing amidst the turmoil of Mongol invasions and the An Shi Rebellion of Tang Dynasty China, he testifies to the pain of what is effectively the end of the world as he had known it. Towards the end of a life of wars and migratrions, he wrote the following poems (translations by David Hinton):


A Traveler From

A traveler from southern darkness came,
leaving me a mermaid pearl. At its
center, indecipherable words lay
hidden--words I was unable to write.

I packed it away long ago, savings
against government clerks. And today,
opening wrappers to find it blood, I
have nothing left for taxes, not a tear.


--

Facing Snow

Northern snows overrun T'an-chou. Mongol
Storm clouds have ten thousand homes cold.
Windblown with scattering leaves, the rain-
Smeared, flakeless snow falls. Though my

Gold-embroidered purse is empty, my credit
Easily buys drink in silver jars. And with
No one to share the floating-ant wine,
At nightfall, I await the coming of crows.

--

I wonder what the pearl and the credit really stand for...of course, a pearl and good credit, but also perhaps memory. The tension between the memory of the past and the reality of the present is what underlies the poems. Both poems end direly, there is nothing left. Recovering the past through memory, setting this memory against the present, cannot change the present. It cannot conjure with it the actual--friends, communities, the magic possibility of youth. What then is the use of the conjuring? To clarify the despair of the present? During the same period, he wrote another poem:


Song for Silkworms and Grain

Every province and kingdom under heaven fronting on
the Great Wall, no city has avoided shield and sword.

Why can't the weapons be cast into ploughshares,
and every inch of abandoned field tilled by oxen?

Tilled by oxen,
spun by silkworms:

don't condemn heroes to weep like heavy rains, leave
men to grain, women to silk--let us go in song again.

--

Here his memory reveals the possibility of memory to the present. Memory sets up an 'other' to the present and gives the imagination the reference points for possibilities in the  future with a framework for understanding possible actions their outcomes. The first two poems clarify the direness of the present situation by revealing what is lost. They are
testimonial. This is part of our own job. We clarify what the world is like, and what hopes and dreams we feel we are losing and have lost.  We have some responsibility to testify about these hopes and dreams, what they were, how they felt, why they are disappearing, even if only to clarify the fullness of the pain we are experiencing. But the third poem wishes to point beyond that pain and to create a space where past hopes and dreams may arise again.  In this, the poem gains the voice to utter: "let us go in song again."

You and I know that the world is going to change beyond the appearances we knew and understood and loved in our youth. Your children or grandchildren may never see a glacier, understand the ice-capped mountains, know the shapes of the continents, or feel the change of seasons in any particular place as we did. Individually we know we cannot stop the momentum our nations and lifestyles have set for all of us. But we have the power to give our neighbors and those coming the same utterance: "let us go in song again."

The more I consider life, the more I feel that life is concerned with redemption; that that is how it operates. This is an "old man's" thought. What did I understand about redemption before I had really failed and lost something; when I was young? This is a gift of youth, I suppose, to see little need in redemption. But the Nature we are born into is always redeeming what has been lost, what has passed, what has died. And from this it has continued and continued, it has grown and adapted. Death in this way is a deposit, and life depends on this deposit to redeem the future.  The great process may end someday, but until then this will be the character of Nature and the nature of its process. We too, in our complex moral and imaginative, can be about this work. Memory is part of this. It is the place where the deposit is made.  Testimony, evidence, is another. It is where memory is realized. Song is a third, and it is our act of redeeming. I think this is part of what Tu Fu is doing in writing, this is part of what he is pointing towards.

Yet another poem from the same period sees a kind of redemption. In it, the past and the present become one, redeeming something for each. Whether or not the figure in the poem is actual or simply conjured is not so important, but rather that the figure is met by the poet. Tu Fu here is not about the grand redemption of China, which is beyond the scope of the single poet.  His redemption is limited, extremely limited even, but it is human and cherished.


Meeting Li Kuei-Nien South of the River

Often, long ago, I saw you in Prince Ch'i's house.
And at Ts'ui Chiu's, I sometimes heard you sing.
Just now, as we meet again, the season of falling
Blossoms gracing this world--how lovely it is.


All my best,
Doug