Showing posts with label Joakim Norling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joakim Norling. Show all posts

Thursday, July 01, 2021

Judith: Women Making Visual Poetry, ed. Amanda Earl

 

The challenge of reception remains. How to make such work – by women in particular – visible within the general clutter of literary publishing and the larger field of cultural noise. But as gender politics in publishing meets the fertile graphical-poetic imagination of so many talented and engaging writers, these issues will resolve themselves. The terms ‘visual’ or ‘concrete’ seem less and less necessary as identifiers that separate one category of works from the larger field. All works of written poetry are graphical, but only some take advantage of that in interesting ways. The wonder is that such a varied and prolific outpouring is taking place – and being given the kind of notice signalled by this anthology. For someone of my generation, whose work was systematically denigrated, or, alternately, merely ignored, this is an excellent development to witness. Perhaps it will also serve to remind women of what is at stake in being in control of our own language – since that is where the political efficacy of our subjectivity resides. The politics of gender are not diminished in these days, only transformed, and the polymorphous approach to authority is intimately bound to questions of self-determination. If I cannot speak myself in terms appropriate to the symbolic presentation of my being, then how am I to act with the full warrant of citizenship in the linguistic world? The question can only be answered across the broad spectrum of gendered positions, beyond binarisms and oppositions, but also, cannot ignore the legacies structured into our language and the visual presentation of our selves. (Johanna Drucker, “(In)Visible Women or Gender in Concrete”)

It would be hard not to be amazed by Ottawa poet, editor, critic and publisher Amanda Earl’s incredibly expansive, inclusive and long-awaited anthology Judith:Women Making Visual Poetry (Malmö, Sweden: Timglaset Editions, 2021), a book funded, in part, through an impressive crowdfunding campaign earlier this spring. Subtitled “A 21st century anthology,” Judith is named for Vancouver poet Judith Copithorne, who is known as the first woman in Canada to engage (in a sustained, ongoing way) with visual and concrete poetry, appearing in such important early Canadian concrete/visual poetry anthologies as the four author Four Parts Sand (Ottawa ON: Oberon Press, 1972), John Robert Colombo’s New Directions in Canadian Poetry (Toronto ON: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1971), bpNichol’s The Cosmic Chef (Ottawa ON: Oberon Press, 1970) and bill bissett’s THE LAST BLEWOINTMENT ANTHOLOGY VOLUME 1 (Toronto ON: Nightwood Editions, 1985), as well as in more recent volumes such as The Last Vispo Anthology: Visual Poetry 1998-2008 (Fantagraphics, 2012) and The New Concrete, Visual Poetry in the 21st Century (Hayward Gallery Publishing, 2015). For years now, Ottawa writer/publisher/bookseller jwcurry has been referring to Copithorne as “our first lady of concrete,” and Copithorne has actively been producing and publishing since the late 1950s. Earl’s acknowledgment of Copithorne is wonderfully appropriate, although it is curious to note that the first volume of concrete and visual works produced in Canada was actually (as jwcurry once offered) Lozenges: Poems in the Shapes of Things (London ON: Alphabet Press, 1965) by poet Colleen Thibaudeau (1925-2012), a title that appeared mere months prior to the first publications by bpNichol himself, who spent an entire career working, among other forms, concrete and visual poetry. In the context of Thibaudeau’s own work, her experimentation with visual forms through Lozenges, published by her husband, the poet James Reaney, appears to have been an outlier; a line of experimentation set aside for her eventual and lengthy career focusing on more narrative forms of poetry.

Judith includes a foreword by Johanna Drucker, “(In)Visible Women or Gender in Concrete,” and introduction by Earl, “This Book Is an Action,” and the two trace the reasonings and arguments for examining these kinds of works, and theories for why so much of this has been historically overlooked. As Earl writes: “Over the years, I have been told numerous times by male publishers, editors, and visual poets that few women make visual poetry. And judging from visual poetry anthologies published in the twenty-first century, this appears to be true, with representation of women between 12-21% except for Women in Concrete Poetry and Poesia Visiva both of which publish works from the twentieth century.” As a response to that repeated assertion, Earl offers a comprehensive list of “1181 Women Making Visual Poetry” (a list that has grown since to more than 1200 names in her ongoing Google doc). The list of so many historical and practicing artists simply add to the heft and very essence of this collection: how could so many artists be overlooked, and for so long? As Earl introduces the list of names:

Beginning in April, 2019, Joakim Norling and I began to record the names of women making visual poetry in a shared spreadsheet in order to select potential contributors for the anthology. We easily reached 100 names and began inviting contributors to the book by the summer. The list kept growing. I asked for more names from our contributors and through social media. This list is the work of a community, many communities, with a shared goal to increase the visibility of women making visual poetry. we received names from editors, publishers and visual poets. Our list expanded to include Arabic calligraphers, Native American Ledger artists, quilters, word painters, photographers, sculptors and more. I found even more women sharing their visual poetry in the form of embroidered texts, collages, wearable art. We have included only the names here, but many of the women listed are easy to find on Google.

At the core of the collection sits works by a selection of artists from around the world working in visual and concrete forms: Rosaire Appel (USA), Viviane Rombaldi Seppey (Switzerland/USA), Kimberly Campanello (USA/Ireland/UK), Iris Colomb (London, UK), Amanda Earl (Canada), Judith Copithorne (Canada), Cinzia Farina (Enna, Italy), Ankie van Dijk (Netherlands), Satu Kaikkonen (Finland), Mara Patricia Hernandez (Mexico/USA), Dona Mayoora (aka Don May and Donmay Donamayoora, USA), Terri Witek (USA), Astra Papachristodoulou (UK), Karenjit Sandhu (UK), Mado Reznik (Argentina), Lenora de Barros (São Paulo, Brazil), Petra Schulze-Wollgast (pws) (Rostock, Germany), Ruth Wolf-Rehfeldt (Germany), Kate Siklosi (Tkaronto/Dish with One Spoon Territory/Toronto, Canada), Ines Seidel (Munich, Germany), Hiromi Suzuki (Japan), Erica Baum (USA) and Audra Wolowiec (New York, USA). The large format, as well as so many stunning, full-colour images give the collection the physical sense of a coffee table book, and each author’s section includes artist’s statements, a note on another artist that influenced their work, and a recent discovery, all of which provide context and further information on these artists and their works. As part of such, it is interesting to see the cross-influence between contributors: Kate Siklosi offers Ines Seidel’s work, for example, as her influence, and Astra Papachristodoulou as her discovery. As Siklosi writes on Seidel:

Ines Seidel’s work further instills in me a poethics of care, and of finding strength in fragility, that carries me through my poetic practice and beyond. In her work, she painstakingly sews paper and other materials together into wonderfully intricate sculptures – and in this delicate practice, she has taught me the creative value of patience and of ‘staying with the trouble’ while creating work that commands such acute attentiveness and care. This care-ful mindset toward the work has also been an incredibly sustaining ethos for me personally – and throughout 2020, it has been a critical tool for me in terms of working through and responding to the complexities of the world. Her work also informs my object work in terms of illuminating the constructed fabric of our reality, and the powerful and necessary role of creative intervention in that fabric to showcase both the resilience, transience, and beauty inherent in our being.

One of the elements interesting through this list, and this anthology, is the way in which Earl has really provided an expansion of the term “concrete and visual poetry” to include such forms as “embroidered texts, collages, wearable art” and multiple other ways in which artists explore text, a number of which were long dismissed, I might suspect, as merely being “women’s work” and not as any serious, sustained form. There are examples of more traditional considerations of visual and asemic writings in the collection, but Viviane Rombaldi Seppey, for example, works three-dimensional pieces with source materials including maps and phonebooks, and Kate Siklosi works with images of print on leaves and bark. Astra Papachristodoulou works with three-dimensional pieces, and her works in the collection include a puzzle, test tubes and candles. Her statement reads: “My work explores the confluence of poetry and art through a range of diverse sculptures that hopefully outgrow their minimalist bounds. I mainly use ecologically friendly materials such as bio-resin, beeswax and wood to respond to the urgent ecological challenges we face today. My object poems often have an interactive element and present alternate ways for poetry that is not fixed to the page. Extrapolating from my work is a set of techniques and values characterized by the layering of meanings and materials.” Through Judith, Earl’s sense of concrete and visual opens wide to include elements that had already appeared on the periphery of a peripheral form, now set in an accumulated centre of an expanded form that connects not only to literary writing but to larger and multiple considerations of conceptual art (I suspect a fraction of this comes from the fact that the publisher was open to including works, including photographs, in full colour). This collection not only expands the conversation of concrete and visual works, but connects those conversations to multiple other conversations already in-progress. As London, England-based contributor, Iris Colomb, writes for her included statement:

I am interested in the materiality of language and the ways in which text can exist both visually and performatively. Most of my projects involve building different relationships between these two states and exploring possibilities beyond linear written and spoken text. My visual poems are usually the starting points or the results of performances; they either function as performance scores or as the alternative spatial outcomes of time-based works. I enjoy producing textual objects that allow poems to adopt independent and changing structures. Their delivery is often affected by aleatoric or material elements developing through a physical engagement with the text as a three-dimensional thing to be manipulated. The material and visual elements of these objects create a space for additional layers of meaning, which cannot be dissociated from their linguistic content. When a performative piece becomes the starting point for a visual poem the process involves both a form of translation between media and a second state of poetic composition. My projects can therefore be led to take on multiple forms, both visual and performative. This aspect resonates strongly with both my conceptual and aesthetic concerns.

Adding even further to the heft of this collection, Judith concludes with a handful of essays: “A World of Signs: Women of Asemic Writing” by Natalie Ferris, “Handle with Care: A Study in (Poetic) Fragility” by Kate Siklosi, “Interview: The Thread Between Craft and Language” by Amanda Earl, and “Light and Code: Digital Ecologies of Poetic Form” by Fiona Beckett. Judith explores far more than the ways in which individual artists have chosen to work, but the real nuts and bolts of literary creation in a wide range of possibilities, from sewing leaves and gallery space to digital creation. Judith explores creation, and the shifts within the form and the ways in which form opens, in ways not traditionally approached by male writers. This really is a remarkable collection, and deserves to remain in print for as long as possible. As Ferris offers as part of her essay:

            However, for women the gestural, indecipherable or encoded offered not only the opportunity to challenge language’s monopoly on expression, but to challenge the patriarchy’s monopoly on meaning. Throughout history and across cultures and continents, women developed writing systems for their own use; often excluded from educational regimes designed for men, women turned to expressive registers to devise their own, individual or collection, and often secret, means of communication.

This collection is masterfully put together, both in form and in concept, and even includes, at the very end, an “In Memoriam,” a list “to honour and remember women visual poets and artists who died in the 21st century.” What is lovely about this collection is the sheer expansiveness of it, allowing anyone interested in the form further information on the potential handful of names they might already be aware of, as well as a series of worthy introductions to an incredible array of artists, providing a spring-board for an incredible amount of potential further study, research and creation. The approach to this collection is reminiscent of the ways in which Canadian women were working to carve out a space for a different kind of writing, in terms of content, form and possibility, throughout the 1960s and 70s. One could point to writers such as Daphne Marlatt, Nicole Brossard and Betsy Warland, and publishers such as Women’s Press, Ragweed Press and Room of One’s Own (since evolved into Room magazine), although one wonders why it took so long for visual poetry by women to be acknowledged. Perhaps it couldn’t happen until someone as driven and articulate as Amanda Earl (who also happens to have become one of the most engaged and exciting contemporary practitioners of the form) to come along and finally put it together.

 

Thursday, October 29, 2020

12 or 20 (small press) questions with Joakim Norling on Timglaset Editions

Timglaset Editions is a Swedish publisher of visual and concrete poetry, asemic writing and other forms of expression where writing and visual art intersect. We publish trade books, chapbooks, zines and booklike objects that sometimes may be categorized as artists’ books. Our roots are in the diy culture of the post-punk era and our publications are often partly handmade in limited editions. We strive to make out of print titles available as free pdf downloads in order to keep the work in circulation. Since we started book publishing in 2015 we have published more than 40 works by Hartmut Abendschein, Derek Beaulieu, Petra Schulze-Wollgast, Dona Mayoora, Gregory Betts, Cecilie Bjørgås Jordheim, Lina Nordenström, Fernando Aguiar, Catherine Vidler and many more. In December we will publish TERES by Klaus Peter Dencker in cooperation with the University of Kiel.

1 – When did Timglaset first start? How have your original goals as a publisher shifted since you started, if at all? And what have you learned through the process?

Timglaset started out as a fanzine somewhere around 2011 I guess. I had no real set idea, except that I wanted it to be about the kind of weird art and literature I like. I had been writing about music for many years in fanzines and on blogs and finally got completely fed up with it. Through the zine I started to get in touch with all kinds of amazing people and while working on the early issues my interest in visual poetry exploded. In 2014 I published the first book, an elaborate, partly handmade booklet of Robin Tomens’ collage work and before soon I was a book publisher rather than a zine publisher. One person that has to be mentioned as instrumental in Timglaset’s development into a visual poetry press is Derek Beaulieu. He took an interest very early on and generously provided help and encouragement when I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

2 – What first brought you to publishing?

I published my first fanzine (about music) when I was in my teens. Where did that urge come from? Well, both my parents were journalists, so that might have had something to do with it. Writing, printing and publishing was almost as natural as breathing and eating.

3 – What do you consider the role and responsibilities, if any, of small publishing?

The role of small press has to be to be daring and at the forefront of the chosen field of publishing. I can’t see the point of a small press which will publish the same things as commercial or academic presses. Personally I have a love of the chapbook, of ideas and concepts, even if they are not fit for a full length book; of the unfinished, of the footnote and the small print. But above all of course a love of that strange hybrid form which is visual poetry.

The question of responsibilities is a really tough one that I struggle with. On the one hand, small press involves lots of unpaid work which means it has to be driven by passion and a love of the work published. I don’t think that small press can be expected to have the same kind of responsibilities regarding representation as commercial presses. On the other hand, if you’re an even slightly political person these issues will be high on your agenda anyway.

4 – What do you see your press doing that no one else is?

It would be presumptuous of me to imagine that Timglaset is in any way unique but one thing is that I have a consciously internationalist focus. I want to publish visual writers from all over the world and am sometimes pained by the fact that I don’t speak any other languages than English well enough to communicate with authors. Also, perhaps too obvious, that I am completely focused on visual writing or other forms of expression which involve both language and a visual perspective. Of course other presses publish visual poetry too, but perhaps not solely.

5 – What do you see as the most effective way to get new books out into the world?

Well, Timglaset would never exist without social media. That’s the short answer. Newsletters are helpful too.

6 – How involved an editor are you? Do you dig deep into line edits, or do you prefer more of a light touch?

Since I only publish visual work my editing will not involve anything deeper than suggestions like: maybe remove that piece or maybe add a couple of pieces. I will rather say no to a manuscript if it has merits but needs a lot of work. I’m very production oriented. If I had the time to publish a book a week I would be happy. I’m often frustrated by how slow it can be sometimes.

7 – How do your titles get distributed? What are your usual print runs?

At least 90% of the books are sold online. I also enjoy book fairs a lot, not least because I get to meet customers and get acquainted with new authors. There are a few - very few -  bookshops that regularly stock Timglaset titles. The normal print run is 100 copies. I just keep one for my archive so it usually says 99 in the book.

8 – How many other people are involved with editing or production? Do you work with other editors, and if so, how effective do you find it? What are the benefits, drawbacks?

It’s just me. I would love to have a co-editor but as far as I know there isn’t even anyone else in Malmö, Sweden who has the kind of love for visual poetry that I have.

The TYPEWRITTEN imprint, run jointly by Petra Schulze-Wollgast in Rostock, Germany and myself, is edited and printed by her. I finance it and distribute it. So that’s not really co-editing more like a collaborative agreement.

9– How has being an editor/publisher changed the way you think about your own writing?

I’m not a visual writer myself. As I mentioned, Timglaset started as a fanzine, and my perspective is to a high degree still that of a fan.

10– How do you approach the idea of publishing your own writing? Some, such as Gary Geddes when he still ran Cormorant, refused such, yet various Coach House Press’ editors had titles during their tenures as editors for the press, including Victor Coleman and bpNichol. What do you think of the arguments for or against, or do you see the whole question as irrelevant?

The question is obviously not relevant for Timglaset but if you're the editor and you know you have a great idea for a book, by all means publish it! I don’t think authors should be afraid of self-publishing. There are numerous examples of great authors who self-published.

11– How do you see Timglaset evolving?

This year I have published more full length books than before, for the simple reason that there are some excellent visual poets out there whose work deserves a broader presentation. For the future I hope to publish both full length books, chapbooks and other formats, whatever fits the work best. I try not to make plans far into the future and try to let the work I want to publish guide the publishing process.

12 – What, as a publisher, are you most proud of accomplishing? What do you think people have overlooked about your publications? What is your biggest frustration?

When I started out I knew next to nothing about book design but I think most Timglaset books have turned out rather well, if I may say so myself. I’m not sure if this is something that has been overlooked but I do find design an important factor in publishing. Visual poetry comes in all sizes and shapes and it’s important to me to do the work justice and find a design solution that presents it in the best possible manner.

My biggest frustration is that I have to work for a living too. I wish I had the time, energy and money to do this full time.

13 – Who were your early publishing models when starting out?

To a high degree I was improvising. However, I came in contact with the Canadian chapbook scene early on and was impressed by the variety and quality of the publications. Small press was always more interesting than any major publisher. I should also mention Tom Jenks' zimZalla. Always inventive, always eager to try something which hasn't been tried before. Immediately when I came in contact with zimZalla I knew I wanted Timglaset to have the same openness to different formats and ideas.

14 – How does Timglaset work to engage with your immediate literary community, and community at large? What journals or presses do you see Timglaset in dialogue with? How important do you see those dialogues, those conversations?

The importance of conversations with other presses can’t be overestimated. There’s always a surge of excitement when I receive chapbooks, booklets and collections from Simulacrum Press, Penteract Press, No Press, Puddles of Sky, Viktlösheten, Rebecca Resinski, psw, and many others. I hope to think we inspire each other to be better and to try out new things.

15 – Do you hold regular or occasional readings or launches? How important do you see public readings and other events?

I would love to hold more launches but since most of the authors I publish live far from Malmö it is more often than not impossible. Also good intentions have a habit of falling through. I was supposed to be in Basel, Switzerland at a book fair and launch Hartmut Abendschein’s ‘Asemic Walks’ there but the pandemic got worse again and the flight was cancelled.

16 – How do you utilize the internet, if at all, to further your goals?

The internet is absolutely essential to the relative success of Timglaset. There is almost no interest at all for visual poetry in Sweden but thanks to social media I can reach an international audience. The weird Swedish postage tariffs are also immensely helpful. The cost for sending a book to Canada or Australia is the same as sending it across the bridge to Copenhagen (30 minutes by train or car).

17– Do you take submissions? If so, what aren’t you looking for?

I wish I had time to handle submissions in a professional way but as it is, it takes too much time which I need for all the other work that comes with running a small press.

18– Tell me about three of your most recent titles, and why they’re special.

Language Lines & Poetry is the second book of vispo/asemic by the immensely gifted Dona Mayoora. It takes the constructionist elements of her first Timglaset book, ‘Listening to Red’, one step further, exploring lines, geometrical shapes and structures, using the pen as if El Lissitzky was an asemic writer.

Sacha Archer’s Mother’s Milk is a powerful book of rubber stamped visual poems, full of writhing, slithering shapes, borne out of creative necessity and exhaustion, inky fingers, inky soul.

Asemic Walks: 50 Templates for Pataphysical Inspections by Hartmut Abendschein provides the maps (50 of them) but not the destinations. Printed on translucent paper these maps can be laid on top of any other map, introducing unknown paths and sights in the landscape.

12 or 20 (small press) questions;