"30 poets over 30 days in honor of National Poetry Month, curated by Carrie Murphy & Birds of Lace. For 2014, we’ve created a series of poetry “chain letters,” in which we asked poets to share a poem and also ‘tag’ the name of another poet who then shares their own poem, and so on."
Triple Canopy's 2014 Call for Proposals: Deadline Monday, March 10
With the launch of Triple Canopy’s new publishing platform, the magazine invites proposals for new work to be developed by artists and writers in collaboration with Triple Canopy’s editors in the coming year. The editors look forward to working with contributors on research, writing, performance, and visual material related to new projects—as well as on the eventual digital and/or print design of contributors’ work.
Commission recipients receive:
Eight to twelve months of artistic, editorial, and technical support
Opportunity for inclusion in our annual print publication, Invalid Format: An Anthology of Triple Canopy
Opportunity to use Triple Canopy’s space at 155 Freeman for a performance or other public event
Coordination and production of any print publication or live event
Archiving of materials and long-term maintenance of any online version of the project by technical staff
Submissions to Triple Canopy’s 2014 call for proposals may be made via the online form. The deadline for submissions is March 10, 2014. Triple Canopy 2014 commission recipients will be announced April 22, 2014.
“It happens very often that a man has it in him, that a man does something, that he does it very often that he does many things, when he is a young man when he is an old man, when he is an older man. One of such of these kind of them had a little boy and this one, the little son wanted to make a collection of butterflies and beetles and it was all exciting to him and it was all arranged then and then the father said to the son you are certain this is not a cruel thing that you are wanting to be doing, killing things to make collections of them, and the son was very disturbed then and they talked about it together the two of them and more and more they talked about it then and then at last the boy was convinced it was a cruel thing and he said he would not do it and his father said the little boy was a noble boy to give up pleasure when it was a cruel one. The boy went to bed then and then the father when he got up in the early morning saw a wonderfully beautiful moth in the room and he caught him and he killed him and he pinned him and he woke up his son then and showed it to him and he said to him see what a good father I am to have caught and killed this one, the boy was all mixed up inside him and then he said he would go on with his collecting and that was all there was then of discussing and this is a little description of something that happened once and it is very interesting.”—
—Gertrude Stein, The Making of Americans
Come read it with us, 50+ hours, from January 24 at 5 p.m. through January 26 at approximately 11 p.m. Triple Canopy, 155 Freeman St., Brooklyn
“He is our most elegant metatheatrixer; in his hands, the lines between on- and offstage reality melt like butter, re-form as steel, then wisp away again in a breath. In his plays, setting, event, and mood can be established and dispelled through words alone, plots may be rejiggered on the fly, any interruption is possible, and characters are apt to remember that they are just actors after all. Despite this intense, formal self-consciousness, his work is as felt as it is arch; his plays are not naturalistic, but they are terribly realistic.”—
“Faced with decades of content-based cultural criticism that implicitly, at least, adheres to Marx’s formula that the aim of philosophy is not to represent the world, but rather to change it, it is peculiar that such theory doesn’t seem to recognize that such cultural critiques seem to be fairly unsuccessful in producing their desired change. Here one would think that social and political theorists would become aware that this absence of change suggests that perhaps meanings, signifiers, signs, narratives, and discourses are not the entire story. One would think that in addition to these semiotic actors that play a role in collectives of humans and nonhumans, greater attention would be directed at the role of nonhuman actors in human collectives and the role they play in constraining the possibilities of existence. Such an attentiveness to these nonhuman actors would provide us with the resources for thinking strategies of composition that might push collectives into new basins of attraction. Whether or not a village has a well, a city has roads that provide access to other cities, and whether people have alternative forms of occupation and transportation can play a dramatic role in the form collectives take. However, in much of contemporary cultural theory, these sorts of actors are almost entirely invisible because the marked space of theory revolves around the semiotic, placing nonhuman actors in the unmarked space of thought and social engagement.”—
“For centuries after its invention, punctuation was the province of the reader, not the writer. The average ancient Greek or Roman struggled through texts devoid of commas, periods, and even word spaces, punctuating as they went to help pick apart the words and their meaning. Well into the medieval ages, even after punctuation had been established as the writer’s responsibility, readers continued to annotate their books with symbols to help index and recall the information therein.”—Keith Houston, “Obsolete Punctuation Marks,” 2013 (via nickkahler)
“Like many people who complain about the limitations of Twitter, Franzen seems unaware that you can write more than one tweet. If you don’t get everything said in your first tweet, then you can write another onez—and another after that! It’s endless, actually! Rather like writing a novel, which, as I understand it, you do one sentence at a time. For Franzen, though, frequency of publication seems to be all-important. If you reflect on your experience in tweets it’s “yakking about yourself,” but if you save up all those thoughts until you have a two-hundred-page memoir it’s literature.”—Franz und Kraus (via azspot)