Showing posts with label Johannes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Johannes. Show all posts

1/20/14

Man Without a Movie Camera

A painting by David Lynch
When I was 20, I wanted to make movies. I remember talking with my brother about going to film school and we had more or less talked about it like it was going to happen. Filmmaking is actually how I ended up in Johannes Göransson's class at UGA. My film professor, Charles Eidsvik, suggested I go take a class, get some writing in, and come back over when I finished. Well, I haven't stopped writing yet but I also never made it back over to the (literal) other side of the street.

What drew me to making movies wasn't just narrative or storytelling: it was the process of editing and making things fit together even though they very likely did not fit together in the first place. I remember shooting a whole five minute film in a theater at UGA, the camera facing the seats and two characters sitting and chatting. I remember being pissed off when going back and viewing the footage that they a) had mostly been reading the script and hadn't prepared and b) the male had crossed and uncrossed his legs between takes, mucking up my continuity (which was crucial). Being that people are impossible to get a hold of multiple times, I never reshot. Still, Eidsvik liked the movie alright, at least in the sense that everything worked as it was supposed to work. I had my bases covered in terms of shots and audio and that mostly seemed to be the way I did things as a young filmmaker.

The thing is...I never became an older filmmaker. I quit doing it. Beyond not going back to filmmaking after getting into poem writing, I also realized that 1) filmmaking is expensive and I likely would not be able to afford to make the things I wanted and 2) I really did not like relying on other people to make my project work. Like the actors in the one film, in the second, I had an audio person who kept hitting the wall with the boom mic and I never caught it until I went to edit. It was really annoying. I was also bad about thinking of the whole picture. The walls of my friend's apartment seemed perfectly normal to me but to my professor, they were "vanilla." And that was just one of many problems with the second little movie.

It's strange now, thinking back, how boring my movies were. Where everyone else was trying to experiment, I was trying to tell sort of...stories...that necessarily could be told simply. Where I did get "experimental" was when editing, trying to find clever ways of cutting things together to make them seem more interesting. In a test shooting before I began my two projects, I wrote a short bit of dialogue that involved two people trying to figure out how to get information from someone. When an epiphany strikes them both, the shots jump around as both actors in the scene blurt out the answer together. Eidsvik seemed pretty impressed with it, but it turned out to be the highlight of my filmmaking.

I still love film and movies and discussing them endlessly like texts you can press your face into and still not distort everything. I've thought about getting a Ph.D. in film studies but I feel like I would only be a hack or someone who just showed up out of a love for something. At the same time, it seems like every idiot with a YouTube handle discusses movies and TV shows now with some intellectual bent. Tom & Lorenzo are brilliant when discussing Mad Men and they run a website that talks about fashion primarily. There are lots of voices and a crowded market and I'm not sure I could be any better than anyone else at it.

Sure, I would like to make more movies, but I'm not sure what about. It's weird: I think when you start working in a creative medium, you begin to process everything through that medium. When I still thought I'd go back to filmmaking, I had dozens of ideas floating around about what I would do with a few hours, a few  actors and a place to do it. In the same way, every strange thought is possible fodder for a poem now, which I guess is not entirely different from making films to me, but at least it's a generally solitary act.

I still have ideas come to me occasionally and I jot them down with the idea that if I ever purchase a camera, I could probably do something on a weekend. Then again, surely there are plenty of folks doing the same thing, though I guess plenty of folks write poems and teach creative writing, but I haven't stopped that yet either.

I've never been able to find this quote again, but perhaps someone reading knows: It's about how filmmaking is a refuge for the mediocre. I always liked that- I always liked that it turned filmmaking into an everyday act, something that can be done by anyone, a sort of Marxist art. Of course, that's not really true, but I always appreciated the sentiment.

3/14/09

Brown University



After a phone call today from Brown University, I immediately said yes, agreeing to come to school there this Fall. I'll be working towards an M.F.A. in poetry in their Literary Arts program.

I was holding out on Brown, but honestly I had wonderful offers Notre Dame's M.F.A. and Illinois State's MA program, for which I was offered a wonderful fellowship.

As readers of this blog will note, this hasn't been without a lot of hard work over the last years, and a great part of that is the patience of friends and family, and especially my wife, Jennifer. She has been through a lot with me, with a lot more crap to sludge through, I'm sure.

I must also thank Johannes, G.C. and Joyelle for what I imagine must have been wonderful letters of recommendation. It's so strange to have one part of your file that you have absolutely no idea about, but that could have made a huge difference. That these three were willing to take a chance on me four years into my Iowan exile truly means the world to me. I'll never be able to thank them enough.

We'll be moving there this August, and while we're really going to miss Iowa City, I think it's the perfect time for me to start school and get on with my life. Jennifer is coming with of course, though she'll be heading off to do Ph.D. field work for her Anthropology degree. We'll be apart some, but again, this is the time to do it.

Anyways, we're so excited- today has been an incredible Friday the 13th, certainly- and there's just so much to think about and look forward to. There will be some things to stress out about, but for now, I'm going to enjoy it.

3/1/09

Setting

I'm kind of weirded out of late by people talking about "where" they write: what kind of lighting they use. What music they listen to. Do they use candles? Is there a mountain outside or a lake? Maybe it's snowing and there's something inspirational about the snow.

Maybe music sounds interesting. Johannes always suggested throwing on Godard's "Pierrot le fou" in the back ground. I recall him getting in some hot water over his regular exercise at the time: showing Un Chien Andalou and having the class write while it was going on in the background. I'm quite certain I got some cool poems from that exercise, but my "hot water" comment clearly shows that I'm one of the few who thought the practice was great. Apparently for others, it was a reason to complain that they weren't "being taught to write."

I'm bothered that someone writing is a Romantic or ritualistic practice, like somehow you'll just have pages of words flowing as soon as you get the perfect mise en scene down. It reminds me of people that go and by special notebooks and pens and expect that these are the things that create good poems or stories or whatever.

I guess I'm just over it. I don't know if I can write anywhere or whatever, and I'm not saying that a location isn't important. I'm just saying a location isn't going to make you better or worse or make you more or less creative. If you're inspired by the snow or mountains, perhaps you ought examine what you're really doing.

For another thing: can anyone teach you to write? I don't think that's the goal of the workshop or the MFA, for that matter. I think the best anyone can do for you is give you the space to write and time to do it. The workshop, at its best, is a place for feedback and learning to think critically about yourself and others.

Anyways, spaces and places, lights and sights. What good are these things if your poems suck anyways?

2/28/09

Selections From Episode III, a Beard of Bees E-Chap

I'm really proud of these poems. Maybe the first significant set I started working on after I moved to Iowa City.

The poems were initially meant to be funny and vulgar, and here in the selected set, Eric Elshtain's done a fantastic job of picking some of the best of the entire set, which is actually 37 poems long. They're all short-ish.

Johannes calls them my "Parland poems," and they are that: poems that attempt to extract the silliness out of the random situations we find ourselves in. I remember Johannes really loving a great majority of these poems, and if anything, these are dedicated to him, and of course, Henry Parland.

Parland really touched upon something with language and thematically, in terms of the banality of things that happen to all of us, even if Parland didn't live long enough to see the technological marvels of the 20th century. You could probably show someone Parland's poems right now and they would wonder who wrote these very modern, very new poems. It's my opinion that anyone reading Parland in 2109 will feel the same way: for dying at 22, Parland fits every era.

I've been in talks with another publisher to put out the whole set, but until that happens, I'm very thankful for Eric's help in getting these out.

Hope you all find them as much fun!


Selections from Episode III
from Beard of Bees.

2/13/09

Happy Poetry Day!

Since we've been living in Iowa City, which puts us at 3 1/2 years as of February 1st, I've been working from noon until 9pm, Sunday through Thursday, most of the time. The exceptions are school breaks and the occasional Friday to make up time.

With a Friday/Saturday weekend, my social life has been strange to say the least: people are rarely free on the workday of Friday, but I am never free for any of the fun things people want to do on a lazy Sunday. I've missed Easter dinners and Super Bowls, afternoons in the park and all sorts of other activities. Working until late has it's disadvantages too: never being able to make it to readings without taking vacation time (in 3.5 years in Iowa City, I've made it to Matt Hart, Forrest Gander, Johannes and Joyelle, Lyn Hejinian and Dean Young- that's all- It's Iowa City- we get amazing readings!)

One thing I have had though, is an advantage: considering everyone, including Jennifer, has been busy most Fridays, I have spent this time as wisely as possible. Yeah, sometimes I end up playing video games or watching TV. Sometimes I end up going to the mall and sometimes I can't tell where my Friday went!

Mostly though, Friday has been my Poetry Day: the day I sit down to read thoroughly, take notes, and catch up on my own writing ideas that I've been scribbling down all week. I read blogs all week, certainly, but it is on Friday that I try to really get into what has been going on in the online poetry community we seem to be a part of (as Johannes say, "glorified thing "The Blog Writer""). I take Friday as my day that I am not an employee, but someone whose primary interest in life is an art form and everything that goes on around it.

This has taken great dedication, especially considering that I took part in the International Writing Program's Translation Workshop on Friday afternoons for the last two Fall semesters. And by the end of those semesters, I felt like I was dragging and behind and unable to comprehend what had been going on while I had been in class. I wrote during odd hours, especially at work or late at night. I read poetry only when I needed to (like reading poets at schools I applied to). I kept up with blogs and blogging, but if you look back over my posts from the last 8 months or so, the frequency is inconsistent, to say the least.

To know now, that in some small way, this has paid off, I am happy:

Last Friday, I was called by one of the MFA programs I had applied to an offered admission for next Fall. After four years of applying, most of which was to the University of Iowa's Writer's Workshop, since they're in my back yard and all, it has been a truly gratifying experience to know that giving one solid day to my "hobby" was a good idea.

But it's not a hobby as much as it used to be. The idea that everyday can be this way to some extent (minus teaching or other work related to surviving through an MFA) is such a wonderful feeling, and maybe a bit scary too. That I have at least one place saying that my faith in myself as a poet and as a person whose intellectual curiousity has led to considering language and all its trappings as the basic underpinning of our relationships and culture as a whole has been such a fantastic feeling this last week.

I'm not done though: of the 13 schools I applied to, this has been the only one I have heard from so far. I am going to do my best to keep my head straight through this process and hopefully I'll be able to pick the right school for me at this point. This is assuming I have an option, but if I don't, I have nothing but positive feelings about my one acceptance and would be honored to matriculate there this Fall.
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Poetry Day for me has been an escape to some extent, a double-life as someone who hasn't been doing what he's been wanting to do. Fridays are a way of pretending that I'm someone I am not, but hope to be. Fridays have been a way for me to distance myself from my forty hour week and keep myself from giving in to the feeling that I'd never get out of it. I had been desperate, certainly, to move on "career"-wise (assuming anything like that still exists for today's MFA graduate). But even getting into school is a wonderful step in the direction I want to go and it's a lovely feeling.
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It occurred to me last night that what had been a "hobby" for the last decade of my life, minus a few stints in creative writing classes while at Georgia, is now a "job" of sorts. This is great news! While in Johannes and Brian Henry's classes, one in Spring of 04 and the other in Spring of 05, I thrived under the pressure of needing to have something to present on certain weeks. I recall especially while in Johannes' class that my output was quite high, though obviously not all of it was stellar. I'm really looking forward to having to write, as right now, it's something I do because I want to, so, Poetry Day or not, I have to make myself do it. External pressure will make this great.
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For those keeping score, that's 1 acceptance, and 12 undecideds. I hope to hear something soon from the others.

2/10/09

New 'Action, Yes'

is here

from Johannes' blog:

It is very big. Some figures and frameworks will be familiar (but hopefully not too familiar) to readers of this blog.

It includes two "automanias" by Swedish poet/performer/novelist Sara Tuss Efrik.

It includes several pieces addressing "the gurlesque", including texts by Lara Glenum, Dodie Bellamy and Aaron Kunin.

It includes work by Tina Darragh and P.Inman, whose work Mark and I have talked about on this blog.

It includes poems by James Pate as well as his essay on Clayton Eshleman.

It includes two poems by Clayton Eshleman, including one dedicated to Laura Solorzano (who is about to give a reading here on the Notre Dame campus).

And a whole bunch more,including work by such participants of this blog as Angela Genusa, Christian Peet, Ron Klassnik and Evan Willner.