January 15, 2008

Poetry painted on the page

“There are only two or three human stories and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.”  Willa Cather (cq) wrote that in her novel O Pioneers! (cq) and it feels increasingly true to me with time.  Maybe that’s the reason we are fascinated with other people’s stories--because they are our own.  They give us knowledge of those other people, yes, but they give us insight into our lives, too.

Irene Koronas is a poet and visual artist whose new book, self portrait drawn from many,  focuses on life stories of people that interest her.  The diverse group --the book’s subtitle is “65 poems for 65 years”--includes Emily Dickinson, Ella Fitzgerald, Hans Arp, Arthur Rimbaud, and Charlie Chaplin appear in tightly drawn, deliberate shapes inside frames of fixed, even margins.  Set in what she calls “square paragraphs,” these portraits drawn in spare, unpunctuated writing cross the boundary between the written and the visual, hanging on the page the way they might on a wall.   

The minimalist writing feels like a natural outgrowth of her visual art, which most often
incorporates a grid of finely drawn lines.

“There are no shortcuts,” she says. “Once you start, you have to keep doing it--like life.  It’s intimate. You have to come close to see the lines and see that each line is different.”

Her word portraits, too, invite the reader to come closer and watch the fragmentary details blur, like pointillist dots, into a picture of a person.  A poem titled Louise Nevelson, for example, begins “broken pieces from bureau draws (cq)/fidgets and legs twist hidden in the/bosom of her skirted cities” (cq).  And even though the art forms look different to the viewer or reader, in Koronas’s mind the process blends into “writing painting.”

“Painting is easier for me because I’m a visual learner,” she says, but she goes on to describe a similarity of process, with the initial impulse and then the more detached and cerebral re-envisioning. 

(An aside here:  as Koronas talks about her visual art process I confess I’m jealous.  I don’t know a writer who doesn’t long to have “stuff” to manipulate once in a while, something to relieve the stark confrontation with the blank page.  Oh, to have colors to mix on a palette or tools to sharpen and arrange or the mantra of drawing line after line rather than having to find word after elusive word.)

Koronas talks, too, about trying to figure out exactly who her subjects were.  Joseph Cornell, Einstein, Emily Dickinson--what shaped them, made them tick?  And how did they contribute to the way we think?  Of Emily Dickinson, for example, whom Koronas refers to simply as “Emily,” she wonders about that famous aloneness and how that affects creativity..

“She had time to be alone with no distractions.  So how do I do that?”

How indeed? What do we take from the lives of other people, whether presented to us in words or images?  With their ability to show us ourselves do they simply magnify our self-involvement?  Or can they make us somehow larger?  Maybe they lure us out of our shells and into an empathetic engagement with our fellow beings when we look at the people around us and see (surprise!) ourselves?


rosa parks

too heavily upon her purse it may be
composure  the  grave  old aloe tree
leaves she remains on the front  row
seat she remains the beginning
for                                               change          


un-related
virginia woolf

inside  with  sun  glasses  on  my  knees
ache my lips blister her voice tidal wave
star  marigold  petals   spiral   open  with
moisture  on   my   cheeks   fallen   green
leaves virginia woolf   left her hair under
mouth   full   of    slugs    solemn    rinses
suddenly  my  life  is  very   exciting  her
vision  enters  and  swivels  shivers  with
whatever buttons a long book

 

 

 

 
2002  •  2003  •  2004  •  2005  •  2006  •  2007
  2008  •  2009
when there's something new on my web site? Click here to join my mailing list!




 
  HomeWriterPoetAbout MeLinksContact
©2007 Ellen Steinbaum

My photo on the home page is by Peter Urban.
The cover of my book, Afterwords, was designed by Kate Misail.
The painting on the cover of the book, which is also pictured on this page, is by Eric Sealine.

Web Design by Metropolis Creative