fragments of the project summary and report...
Project Summary
ATARAXIA
garden and heavens
The project consists of three
books. These are:
a field guide to Australian
clouds
a book of pictures
ataraxia
Ataraxia is the state of equanimity and tranquility at which
various classical Greek philosophies
aimed. Ataraxia is
associated with the garden and the idea of human purposes harmonized with
nature. (Indeed, the school of Epicurus, in Athens, was called The Garden).
Hope, gratitude and patience are
the three Epicurean virtues one might cultivate in a garden we take to be our
school. Temporally expressed, these are: hope for the future, gratitude for the
past, patience in the present moment. The gardener, the painter, the poet -
each, in my view cultivates an attitude of care towards work which is unending
(and so unlike the existence of the gardener, the painter, the poet).
The planned work draws together
many philosophical traditions, (particularly Daoist and Epicurean) to posit the
garden as philosophical destination for a poetic adventure focussed on the sky
(as atmosphere and as symbolic entity) and the role of humans in what remains
of 'nature' under 'the heavens'.
The project is, in equal parts,
about the world (as planet, as inhabited space), about place-in-particular as
habitation (the idea of bringing about a garden where one lives) and about the
process of art as enabling this way of dwelling.
The work can be thought of,
overall, as a philosophical poem, where the verbal and visual image are in
dialogue. The work is not intended to be doctrinal, or to present doxa
of any kind, but it structures acts of poetry around the idea of ataraxia
as expression and result of care for the world, for the process of art and for
the practice of dwelling in a place which can be becoming a garden.
Between heaven (sky above) and
earth (the all-to-do of the garden), I situate the human activity of
abstraction, realized in/as the ambiguous body of the idea given substance -
indeterminately as word or as image. Artmaking in such a place entails the
scratch and the flow of signs that might be meaning, that might be motivated or
arbitrary (intentional or accidental). The core of this project is focus on the
making of art as means to the evanescence of ataraxia. The garden is
where we are with the sky, with the poem and with the picture coming into
being.
Together, these three books
encourage attention to presence through the contemplation of the sky and
through the work of being in the garden (regardless of purpose or
purposelessness). Relevance to the reader is in the present urgency of our
realising the idea of a garden.
Destination for an
adventure-in-mind, the garden is not a place of arrival; it is more of a
journey on the spot - where we need to be and what we need to do.
The work in toto
foreshadows and establishes a background for a fictional east-west
philosophical journey to the Garden of Epicurus in a novel to be titled Time
of the Mind.
a field guide to Australian
clouds
The first book - a field guide
to Australian clouds - opens the project with an upward glance at what many
philosophical and religious traditions have considered 'the heavens'.
This book brings together
- the poet's direct personal
observations of the sky and atmospheric phenomena
- scientific investigation of
climate, weather and varied meteorological phenomena
- reflection on arts and sciences
of observation (the idea of a field guide)
- symbolic (and
philosophic/theological) significance of atmospheric phenomena, and
particularly clouds
- anthropomorphic reading of what
is seen/understood (to be) in the sky
- speculation about national
pretensions pertaining to phenomena as distant as stars in the night sky (for
instance in flags) - hence 'Australian' clouds
We see many things when we look
to - and into - the sky. The sky is a particular test for mysteries of
anthropomorphism. Each culture calls its constellations from ancient knowledge
of the world and from deep ignorance of what is beyond Earth's atmosphere.
Clouds viewed are not of, but transcendent of, places-in-particular. They are
transcendent of themselves. No respecters of lines humans draw on a map, clouds
lead us to observe the one-ness of the world. Always on the way, (however
strange) no cloud is a stranger.
Awareness of what is happening to
our world and its atmosphere is not merely scientific. It has important
rhetorical and symbolic aspects, and urgently requires a dedicated cosmopolitan
poetics. There is now, undeniably, a politics of the sky on Planet Earth. There
is therefore an urgent need for sky poetics. This book is a personal beginning
at that.
Simply encouraging fellow humans
to look up and to consider the sky, is in our present circumstances, both an
aesthetic imperative and an important political act.
To look up in the going-gone of
daylit clouds is to wonder, to engage the unknown. It is likely from this act
that philosophy arises. Is heaven a distorting mirror? What meaning
relationship is there between own own activity and that which takes place above
us? Religion comes to us out of thin air, out of the blue. Seeing dragonflies
and birds, fearing hubris, someone once thought angels.
The sky is full of bones and
beards, continents, strange creatures morphing into stranger ones. Perhaps art
(especially abstract art) has been invented as a reaction to the frustration of
these pictures that, though beautiful, will not be still, will not be there
when we blink and look again.
Despite all this folkloric
flourish, what we see and know of the heavens is loaded with objective reality.
Clouds at night are negative space, where stars are not (although they are).
The night sky, we now know, is a picture of distance - so a picture of time. It
is where we are in the close edge of what we cannot ever completely see.
Peering further and further into the well of time, humans begin to see how
small and far they are in the cosmos.
In our epoch, beginning to be
called the anthropocene, for the first time humans have come to have major impacts on our planet's sky. As a
species we are capable of a consciousness and growing detailed understanding of
these effects.
Our relationship as a species,
with the sky, is, in our time, suddenly, probably irrevocably, altered. We now
know, for instance, that many things seen in the sky are not really there. As you read this the number of humans
airborne (i.e. in the sky) - somewhere between half a million and a million -
is roughly equivalent to the human population of the planet ten thousand years
ago, at the time when agriculture began, perhaps the time of the first
prototypes of gardens. None of our nations or organised religions or political
entities then existed. What we think of as 'human history' was yet to happen.
Yet it is reasonable to speculate that humans of that time were more fascinated
with and focussed on understanding the sky than your typical air traveller or
religious believer today. Humans then must also have had a greater personal
interest in the experiments that led to the tending of gardens. It is also
worth noting that the number of deaths due to air pollution worldwide is
annually ten times what the human population of the world was ten thousand
years ago.
A God's-eye view has allowed the
conception of activity on our planet as sub specie aeternitas. The view
from the heavens I envisage is more about a human effort at understanding what
a bird or an insect sees, about global and universal concerns associated with
how the weather is with us where we are, wherever we are.
How can clouds be Australian?
Australians (indigenous and later arrivals) do have distinct ways of reading
the weather and seeing the sky. While there are types of cloud and their
classification will be used as an aspect of the book's structure, culturally
specific and subjective readings of cloud will be more important in the
development of this work.
Accompanying the poems, in this
book paintings capture on canvas moments analogous to cloud flow, and processes
of art mirroring what is observed in the sky.
The prolegomenon for this book
won the local award in the Newcastle Poetry Prize last year (2017), and its
twelve parts were published in the prize anthology. This aspect of the overall
project is long foreshadowed in much previous work, for instance in my 2010
poem and exhibition Time with the Sky.
a book of pictures
The second book - and focus of
exhibition - is the visual core of the project, the place/pivot in the project
where the pictures (and focus on pictures) come to outweigh accompanying
words.
This book is about the visual
image and is made of images and words about them. Its making depends on an
equal relationship between word and image, so that words must not be merely captions
for pictures, so that pictures are not merely illustrations of an idea.
This book is the reflexive core
of the work. Here poems about pictures are in conversation with poems about the
making of pictures and poems. The separation of visual from verbal art blurs
where text enters the image frame or stands equally on the wall with it.
This exhibition/book brings
together
- ekphrastic poems about
paintings-in-particular (these involve research about contexts of creation,
about artists, art movements, paintings in particular and particular painting
techniques)
- the author's own pictures
(mixed media on canvas and various boards)
- poems and poem fragments (e.g.
aphorisms) about the process of art making and its relation to poetry,
community and the environment
The sky-oriented and
garden-oriented explorations of the first and third books pivot here in work
about the work, where the breath of the poetic word, likewise the making of an
image, is found to be like the making of a cloud, like the making of a garden.
The page, the sky, the land, the canvas - each in its own time and mind-frame
provide a creative space analogous to the others, where the maker scratches at
a surface never quite blank, and often primes to begin again, never quite concealing
all traces of the world made here before. There is an archaeology to knowing
how the painting, likewise the garden, likewise the poem, came to be as it is
with us now.
Dominating, and finding analogy,
in the activity of the artist/poet/gardener are two contrasting techniques. I
name them scratch and flow - the making of marks and the allowing of pigments
to spread, seep, edge, make tidelines, mix and separate. In the action of
scratch and flow on surfaces - whether screen, sky, canvas, page or the
territory of a garden - we find signs that might be meaning, that might be
motivated or arbitrary (intentional or accidental). We likewise find analogies
between the artist's work and the material-of-nature with which the artist
works.
Ekphrastic poems in this book are
gathered from gallery notes from but
many countries (and especially from the last two Venice Biennales [2015 and
2017], from the Art Gallery of NSW, The Prado in Madrid, many major and minor
galleries and art museums in Europe and Australia and South America). There
will be set of poems about the process of painting to accompany my own
mixed-media paintings, drawing and collage works on board and paper.
This image-and-word work
continues and expands on similar efforts in past exhibitions and publications,
especially Pictures of Nothing at All (2014), Next Stop is the Stars (2015)
and Up Through Branches (2017). This work continues and
expands ekphrastic efforts in past publications, for instance those dealing
with works in galleries in Oslo and Bergen, in my volume of poems Poor Man's
Coat (currently in press with UWAP).
ataraxia
The third (final) book in the
project constitutes a poetic philosophy of the garden, the aim of which is ataraxia
- a contemplative calm, associated with care for where one is. This is a set of
poems in and about the garden, structured around diurnal and seasonal patterns
as they apply where the poet/artist is: a book of seasons and a book of hours.
Reflexive play here involves the relationship between the garden and the
process of art, the nesting of art in garden, garden as art, the page as
picture as plan. The absence evoked in the text itself is the garden built
around the poem, around the process of art making. But the poem itself is made
everywhere in the garden. Rain dots the page, the sun dries tides of paint, of
ink.
The garden emerges rhizomatically,
as place in particular, grown from under the plan exceeding the territory it
maps. In the garden one falls under the spell of the place opening onto the
infinite, the evidence of which is always simply to look up, to where the
circle covers the square. We gaze up into the moment gone. Time in the garden
is time with the sky. This is where to vanish. The process of vanishing
requires patience of us.
However ideal we imagine it,
every garden is from somewhere. If we love such a place, there is a duty to
know what can be known of how the place comes to us, comes into our possession.
What can we know of what was before us, of what comes before the garden we
know? Is it better to think of the garden possessing us? Is stewardship a
mutual encounter? This is the place where peace can be made.
This book focusses attention on
the garden-in-particular inhabited by the poet. Research for the work involves
understanding the relationship between country (in the indigenous sense) and
the idea of garden; it involves a historicized understanding of how gardens are
and can be in the place we call Australia (under the clouds of the field
guide). Permaculture, no-dig gardening, weeding the bush, icons like the Yates
Garden Guide all have a place in understanding the meaning of gardens in this
particular context.
Because of the necessity of care,
there is no simply being in the garden; there is no absorption in the moment,
no transcendent calm of having arrived. The garden is the all-to-do; a process
of becoming and coming to be with - a process of treaty making. The garden is
work, of nature (its own for instance), never to be finished.
I write a last will and testament
as the closing poem of the book. Neither will that ever be completed. All
works a draft until we're gone. We hope the garden will survive us but
intentions disperse into time we cannot know.
In this book, along with the
poems, drawings/paintings express on paper or canvas the work of garden
making/mulching: a dis/integration of word, thought, image, map, plan.
Biographical Note:
Christopher (Kit) Kelen (客遠文) is a well known Australian poet, scholar and visual
artist, and Emeritus Professor of English at the University of Macau, where he
taught Creative Writing and Literature for many years.
Kit Kelen's poetry has been
published and broadcast widely since the seventies, and he has won a number of
prestigious awards over the years, including an ABA/ABC Bicentennial Prize in
1988; and in 1992 an Anne Elder award for his first volume of poems The
Naming of the Harbour and the Trees. He has also won Westerly's
Patricia Hackett Prize and placed second in Island's Gwen Harwood Prize.
In 2012, his poem 'Time with the Sky' was runner up in the Newcastle Poetry
Prize, an award for which he has been frequently shortlisted. In 2017, Kit was
shortlisted twice for the Montreal Poetry Prize and, for the second time, won
the Local Award in the Newcastle Poetry Prize.
Volumes of Kit Kelen’s poetry
have been published in Chinese, Portuguese, French, Italian, Spanish, Swedish,
Indonesian and Filipino. The most recent of Kelen's dozen English language
poetry books are China Years – New and Selected Poems (2012, ASM/Flying
Islands) and Scavenger’s Season (2014, Puncher and Wattmann). He also
has a mini-selected poems in the form of A Pocket Kit. His next
collection of poetry, Poor Man’s Coat – Hardanger Poems is being
published by University of Western Australia Press in 2018.
The most recent of Kelen’s ten
solo painting exhibitions were Next Stop is the Stars (Rui Cunha Foundation
Gallery, Macao) in 2015; in 2016, Dotze Pinturas (Estudio Nomada,
Barcelona); and in 2017, Kelen’s exhibition up through branches – por
árvores acima – held at the SNBA (National Society of Fine Arts) Gallery in
Lisbon.
For the last decade Kelen has
been facilitating the translation of Chinese poetry into English and of
Australian poets into Chinese, projects which have so far produced a dozen
large scale bilingual anthologies. These projects involved bringing poets and translators to
Australia (notably to Bundanon, the University of Western Australia, and
Kelen's Australian home) to workshop with poets being translated. They have
likewise involved hosting poets for workshops and meetings in Macao, and
elsewhere in China. Apart from parallel-text anthologies Kelen has notably
co-translated two volumes with the late Hong Kong poet Leung Ping Kwan (Ya Si),
and four with Macao poet Yao Jing Ming (Yao Feng).
Kit Kelen has also worked with
poets and translators to co-translate and publish volumes of poetry from
French, Norwegian and Indonesian. A 2012 volume, Notes for the Translators,
collected the work of 142 Australian and New Zealand poets, together with
advice from authors on how their particular works might be translated into any
language.
As an editor and anthologist
more generally, Kit Kelen has published the work of hundreds of poets from
around the world, but especially from China and Australia.
In 2008, he co-edited with
Agnes Vong the first English-language anthology of Macao poetry, containing the
work of more than 120 Macao poets, some writing in English, many translated
from Chinese and Portuguese. In 2009, his critical volume City of Poets -
Exploring Macao Poetry Today appeared to accompany the 2008 anthology.
In Australia, A Slow Combusting
Hymn (co-edited with Jean Kent, in 2014) collected the work of more
than sixty Newcastle/Hunter-region associated poets. Writing to the Wire (co-edited
with Dan Disney and published by UWAP in 2016) brought Australians poets and
poets in Australian immigration detention together in a sustained meditation on
the question of ethos and the meaning of nation in the case of Australia.
Nation and nationalism have
been an abiding interest in Kit Kelen's own poetry and in his literary
research. With Björn Sundmark, Kelen has edited two major international
collections on Children’s Literature – The Nation in Children’s Literature and
Where Children Rule (both with Routledge). He is currently working on a monograph
(under contract with Routledge) about poetry, children and anthropomorphism.
Kelen’s published research into
national anthems dates back to the 1990s and he has written many articles on
this subject. This work has culminated in the publication of two monographs – Anthem
Quality – National Songs: A Theoretical Survey (2014, Intellect/University
of Chicago Press) and (with A. Pavkovik) Anthems and the Making of Nation
States – Identity and Nationalism in the Balkans (2016, I.B.Tauris).
Kit Kelen has also published a
more general monograph on poetics: Poetry, Consciousness and Community
(2009, Rodopi)
Kit Kelen is Series Editor for
ASM/Flying Islands books and, in this role, has cultivated a pocket poets
series, publishing writers in various languages from around the world, but
especially from Australia and China. Kelen is also Literary Editor for Postcolonial
Text.
Since 2016, Kelen has
co-ordinated Project 366 – an international on-line community of practice,
involving poets and visual artists in daily postings of draft work. As a
participant in this project (originally intended to run only for the duration
2016) Kit has now posted a new draft poem to the blog every day for more than
800 days. from prominent poets such as yourself,
A new on-line collaboration
among poets and artists A Conversation in Poetry has recently commenced
(in 2018). Participants in this project - including many of Australia's best
known poets) respond in kind to each others' work, without any time limits.
Kit Kelen lives and works on a
five acre block, in a valley between forests, in the Myall Lakes district of
New South Wales. He writes and paints every day.
In 2017, Professor Kelen was awarded an honorary doctorate by the University of
Malmö, in Sweden.
Without any recourse to representation or depiction the
activity of art in a place-in-particular is necessarily reflexive because of
the like action in which it participates. The sky flows over us and we find
ourselves wondering - how long does a cloud last? Will it come to us? What will
it be next? Earth is what settlers
scratch at, where we define ourselves and our territory by the making of marks,
by their erasure, by fresh inscription. The much longer human story, before
settlement and with important continuities today, involves flows of humans -
with seasons, with animal others, with what sustains a culture.
The work watched making itself offers a bridge from the view
up into sky and clouds to the terrestrial view of the garden as becoming home.
In this work, the history of all other pictures, and an openness to processes
of picturing, brings the wordless image and the image cast by word into
play.
Playing with the bits for the form:
The project consists of three books. These are:
a field guide to Australian clouds
a book of pictures
ataraxia
Ataraxia is the state of equanimity and tranquility at which
various classical Greek philosophies
aimed. Ataraxia is associated with the garden and the idea
of human purposes harmonized with nature. (Indeed, the school of Epicurus, in
Athens, was called The Garden).
Hope, gratitude and patience are the three Epicurean virtues
one might cultivate in a garden we take to be our school. Temporally expressed,
these are: hope for the future, gratitude for the past, patience in the present
moment. The gardener, the painter, the poet - each, in my view cultivates an
attitude of care towards work which is unending (and so unlike the existence of
the gardener, the painter, the poet
The project consists of three
books. These are:
a field guide to Australian
clouds
a book of pictures
ataraxia
It is about the world (as planet,
as inhabited space), about place-in-particular as habitation (bringing about a
garden where one lives) and about the process of art as enabling this way of
dwelling.
Ataraxia is associated with the garden and the idea of human
purposes harmonized with nature. It is
the state of equanimity and tranquility at which various classical philosophies
aimed. The gardener, the painter, the poet ─ each cultivates an attitude of care towards work which is
unending.
The core of this project is focus
on the making of art as means to ataraxia. The garden is where we are
with the sky, with the poem and with the picture coming into being.
These books encourage attention
to presence through the contemplation of the sky and through the work of being
in the garden. Relevance to the reader is in the present urgency of our
realising the idea of a garden.
Achievements
Kit Kelen's
poet's/artist's website provides details of achievements in the areas of
writing, translation, scholarship and visual arts - http://kitkelen.com/
Kit Kelen's
career as a poet has been punctuated with prizes for writing and the
publication of (well reviewed) books . He has regularly, since the seventies,
published individual poems in important journals. Career development has
progressed as well through minor works, collaborative projects and poetry
translation.
Recent
poetry and painting exhibitions at the Macao Museum of Art (China) and the
Sociedade Nacional De Belas Artes (Lisbon, Portugal) have been highlights of
his career as a visual artist.
For the last decade Kelen has
been facilitating the translation of Chinese poetry into English and of
Australian poets into Chinese, projects which have so far produced a dozen
large scale bilingual anthologies. Kelen has notably co-translated two volumes
with the late Hong Kong poet Leung Ping Kwan (Ya Si), and four with Macao poet
Yao Jing Ming (Yao Feng).
Kit Kelen has also worked with
poets and translators to co-translate and publish volumes of poetry from
French, Norwegian and Indonesian. A 2012 volume, Notes for the Translators,
collected the work of 142 Australian and New Zealand poets, together with
advice from authors on how their particular works might be translated into any
language. As an editor and anthologist more generally, Kit Kelen has published
the work of hundreds of poets from around the world, but especially from China
and Australia.
In Australia, Kelen has
co-edited a number of locally/regionally based representative poetry
anthologies. For instance A Slow Combusting Hymn (in 2014) collected
the work of more than sixty Newcastle/Hunter-region associated poets.
Kelen’s published research on
poetry and poetics includes the 2009 monograph Poetry, Consciousness and
Community (Rodopi), and two volumes on national anthems, Anthem
Quality – National Songs: A Theoretical Survey (2014, Intellect/University
of Chicago Press) and (with A. Pavkovik) Anthems and the Making of Nation
States – Identity and Nationalism in the Balkans (2016, I.B.Tauris).
The three books comprising
the project are to be written simultaneously, allowing the inter-animation of
themes and forms, in a coherent whole.
a field guide to Australian
clouds
A Field Guide to Australian
Clouds concerns what many philosophical
and religious traditions have considered 'the heavens'.
To look up in the going-gone of
daylit clouds is to wonder, to engage the unknown. It is likely from this act
that philosophy and religion arise. Simply
encouraging fellow humans to look up and to consider the sky, is in our present
circumstances, both an aesthetic imperative and an important political
act.
How can clouds be Australian?
Australians (indigenous and later arrivals) do have distinct ways of reading
the weather and seeing the sky. While there are types of cloud and their
classification will be used as an aspect of the book's structure, culturally
specific and subjective readings of cloud will be more important in the
development of this work.
Accompanying the poems, in this
book paintings capture on canvas moments analogous to cloud flow, and processes
of art mirroring what is observed in the sky.
The prolegomenon for this book
won the local award in the Newcastle Poetry Prize last year (2017), and its
twelve parts were published in the prize anthology. This aspect of the overall
project is long foreshadowed in much previous work, for instance in my 2010
poem and exhibition Time with the Sky.
a book of pictures
The second book - and focus of
exhibition - is the visual core of the project, the place/pivot in the project
where the pictures (and focus on pictures) come to outweigh accompanying
words.
This book is the reflexive core
of the work. Here poems about pictures are in conversation with poems about the
making of pictures and poems. The separation of visual from verbal art blurs
where text enters the image frame or stands equally on the wall with it.
The sky-oriented and
garden-oriented explorations of the first and third books pivot here in work
about the work, where the breath of the poetic word, likewise the making of an
image, is found to be like the making of a cloud, like the making of a garden.
The page, the sky, the land, the canvas - each in its own time and mind-frame
provide a creative space analogous to the others, where the maker scratches at
a surface never quite blank, and often primes to begin again, never quite
concealing all traces of the world made here before. There is an archaeology to
knowing how the painting, likewise the garden, likewise the poem, came to be as
it is with us now.
Ekphrastic poems in this book are
gathered from gallery notes from many countries (and especially from the last
two Venice Biennales [2015 and 2017], from the Art Gallery of NSW, The Prado in
Madrid, many major and minor galleries and art museums in Europe and Australia
and South America). There will be set of poems about the process of painting to
accompany my own mixed-media paintings, drawing and collage works on board and
paper.
This image-and-word work
continues and expands on similar efforts in past exhibitions and publications,
especially Pictures of Nothing at All (2014), Next Stop is the Stars (2015)
and Up Through Branches (2017). This work continues and
expands ekphrastic efforts in past publications, for instance those dealing
with works in galleries in Oslo and Bergen, in my volume of poems Poor Man's
Coat (currently in press with UWAP).
ataraxia
The third (final) book in the
project constitutes a poetic philosophy of the garden, the aim of which is ataraxia
- a contemplative calm, associated with care for where one is. This is a set of
poems in and about the garden, structured around diurnal and seasonal patterns
as they apply where the poet/artist is: a book of seasons and a book of hours.
Reflexive play here involves the relationship between the garden and the
process of art, the nesting of art in garden, garden as art, the page as
picture as plan. The absence evoked in the text itself is the garden built
around the poem, around the process of art making. But the poem itself is made
everywhere in the garden. Rain dots the page, the sun dries tides of paint, of
ink.
This book focusses attention on
the garden-in-particular inhabited by the poet. Research for the work involves
understanding the relationship between country (in the indigenous sense) and
the idea of garden; it involves a historicized understanding of how gardens are
and can be in the place we call Australia (under the clouds of the field
guide). Permaculture, no-dig gardening, weeding the bush, icons like the Yates
Garden Guide all have a place in understanding the meaning of gardens in this
particular context.
Because of the necessity of
care, there is no simply being in the garden; there is no absorption in the
moment, no transcendent calm of having arrived. The garden is the all-to-do; a
process of becoming and coming to be with - a process of treaty making. The
garden is work, of nature (its own for instance), never to be finished.
I write a last will and
testament as the closing poem of the book. Neither will that ever be completed.
All works a draft until we're gone.
In this book, along with the
poems, drawings/paintings express on paper or canvas the work of garden
making/mulching: a dis/integration of word, thought, image, map, plan.
The three books comprising
the project are to be written simultaneously, allowing the inter-animation of
themes and forms, in a coherent whole.
a field guide to Australian
clouds
A Field Guide to Australian Clouds
concerns what many philosophical and
religious traditions have considered 'the heavens'.
This book brings together
- the poet's direct personal
observations of the sky and atmospheric phenomena
- scientific investigation of
climate, weather and varied meteorological phenomena
- reflection on arts and sciences
of observation (the idea of a field guide)
- symbolic (and
philosophic/theological) significance of atmospheric phenomena, and
particularly clouds
- anthropomorphic reading of what
is seen/understood (to be) in the sky
- speculation about national
pretensions pertaining to phenomena as distant as stars in the night sky (for
instance in flags) - hence 'Australian' clouds
We see many things when we look
to - and into - the sky. The sky is a particular test for mysteries of
anthropomorphism. Each culture calls its constellations from ancient knowledge
of the world and from deep ignorance of what is beyond Earth's atmosphere.
Clouds viewed are not of, but transcendent of, places-in-particular. They are
transcendent of themselves. No respecters of lines humans draw on a map, clouds
lead us to observe the one-ness of the world. Always on the way, (however
strange) no cloud is a stranger.
Awareness of what is happening
to our world and its atmosphere is not merely scientific. It has important
rhetorical and symbolic aspects, and urgently requires a dedicated cosmopolitan
poetics. There is now, undeniably, a politics
of the sky on Planet Earth. There is therefore an urgent need for sky poetics.
This book is a personal beginning at that.
Simply encouraging fellow humans
to look up and to consider the sky, is in our present circumstances, both an
aesthetic imperative and an important political act.
To look up in the going-gone of
daylit clouds is to wonder, to engage the unknown. It is likely from this act
that philosophy arises. Is heaven a distorting mirror? What meaning
relationship is there between own own activity and that which takes place above
us? Religion comes to us out of thin air, out of the blue. Seeing dragonflies
and birds, fearing hubris, someone once thought angels.
The sky is full of bones and
beards, continents, strange creatures morphing into stranger ones. Perhaps art
(especially abstract art) has been invented as a reaction to the frustration of
these pictures that, though beautiful, will not be still, will not be there
when we blink and look again.
Despite all this folkloric
flourish, what we see and know of the heavens is loaded with objective reality.
Clouds at night are negative space, where stars are not (although they are).
The night sky, we now know, is a picture of distance - so a picture of time. It
is where we are in the close edge of what we cannot ever completely see.
Peering further and further into the well of time, humans begin to see how
small and far they are in the cosmos.
In our epoch, beginning to be
called the anthropocene, for the first time humans have come to have major impacts on our planet's sky. As a
species we are capable of a consciousness and growing detailed understanding of
these effects.
Our relationship as a species,
with the sky, is, in our time, suddenly, probably irrevocably, altered. We now
know, for instance, that many things seen in the sky are not really there. As you read this the number of humans
airborne (i.e. in the sky) - somewhere between half a million and a million -
is roughly equivalent to the human population of the planet ten thousand years
ago, at the time when agriculture began, perhaps the time of the first
prototypes of gardens. None of our nations or organised religions or political
entities then existed. What we think of as 'human history' was yet to happen.
Yet it is reasonable to speculate that humans of that time were more fascinated
with and focussed on understanding the sky than your typical air traveller or
religious believer today. Humans then must also have had a greater personal
interest in the experiments that led to the tending of gardens. It is also
worth noting that the number of deaths due to air pollution worldwide is
annually ten times what the human population of the world was ten thousand
years ago.
A God's-eye view has allowed the
conception of activity on our planet as sub specie aeternitas. The view
from the heavens I envisage is more about a human effort at understanding what
a bird or an insect sees, about global and universal concerns associated with
how the weather is with us where we are, wherever we are.
How can clouds be Australian?
Australians (indigenous and later arrivals) do have distinct ways of reading
the weather and seeing the sky. While there are types of cloud and their
classification will be used as an aspect of the book's structure, culturally
specific and subjective readings of cloud will be more important in the
development of this work.
Accompanying the poems, in this
book paintings capture on canvas moments analogous to cloud flow, and processes
of art mirroring what is observed in the sky.
The prolegomenon for this book
won the local award in the Newcastle Poetry Prize last year (2017), and its
twelve parts were published in the prize anthology. This aspect of the overall
project is long foreshadowed in much previous work, for instance in my 2010
poem and exhibition Time with the Sky.
a book of pictures
The second book - and focus of
exhibition - is the visual core of the project, the place/pivot in the project
where the pictures (and focus on pictures) come to outweigh accompanying
words.
This book is about the visual
image and is made of images and words about them. Its making depends on an
equal relationship between word and image, so that words must not be merely
captions for pictures, so that pictures are not merely illustrations of an idea.
This book is the reflexive core
of the work. Here poems about pictures are in conversation with poems about the
making of pictures and poems. The separation of visual from verbal art blurs
where text enters the image frame or stands equally on the wall with it.
This exhibition/book brings
together
- ekphrastic poems about
paintings-in-particular (these involve research about contexts of creation,
about artists, art movements, paintings in particular and particular painting
techniques)
- the author's own pictures
(mixed media on canvas and s an various boards)
- poems and poem fragments (e.g.
aphorisms) about the process of art making and its relation to poetry,
community and the environment
The sky-oriented and
garden-oriented explorations of the first and third books pivot here in work
about the work, where the breath of the poetic word, likewise the making of an
image, is found to be like the making of a cloud, like the making of a garden.
The page, the sky, the land, the canvas - each in its own time and mind-frame
provide a creative space analogous to the others, where the maker scratches at
a surface never quite blank, and often primes to begin again, never quite
concealing all traces of the world made here before. There is an archaeology to
knowing how the painting, likewise the garden, likewise the poem, came to be as
it is with us now.
Dominating, and finding analogy, in
the activity of the artist/poet/gardener are two contrasting techniques. I name
them scratch and flow - the making of marks and the allowing of pigments to
spread, seep, edge, make tidelines, mix and separate. In the action of scratch
and flow on surfaces - whether screen, sky, canvas, page or the territory of a
garden - we find signs that might be meaning, that might be motivated or
arbitrary (intentional or accidental). We likewise find analogies between the
artist's work and the material-of-nature with which the artist works.
Ekphrastic poems in this book
are gathered from gallery notes from many countries (and especially from the
last two Venice Biennales [2015 and 2017], from the Art Gallery of NSW, The
Prado in Madrid, many major and minor galleries and art museums in Europe and
Australia and South America). There will be set of poems about the process of
painting to accompany my own mixed-media paintings, drawing and collage works
on board and paper.
This image-and-word work
continues and expands on similar efforts in past exhibitions and publications,
especially Pictures of Nothing at All (2014), Next Stop is the Stars (2015)
and Up Through Branches (2017). This work continues and
expands ekphrastic efforts in past publications, for instance those dealing
with works in galleries in Oslo and Bergen, in my volume of poems Poor Man's
Coat (currently in press with UWAP).
ataraxia
The third (final) book in the
project constitutes a poetic philosophy of the garden, the aim of which is ataraxia
- a contemplative calm, associated with care for where one is. This is a set of
poems in and about the garden, structured around diurnal and seasonal patterns
as they apply where the poet/artist is: a book of seasons and a book of hours.
Reflexive play here involves the relationship between the garden and the
process of art, the nesting of art in garden, garden as art, the page as
picture as plan. The absence evoked in the text itself is the garden built
around the poem, around the process of art making. But the poem itself is made
everywhere in the garden. Rain dots the page, the sun dries tides of paint, of ink.
The garden emerges
rhizomatically, as place in particular, grown from under the plan exceeding the
territory it maps. In the garden one falls under the spell of the place opening
onto the infinite, the evidence of which is always simply to look up, to where
the circle covers the square. We gaze up into the moment gone. Time in the
garden is time with the sky. This is where to vanish. The process of vanishing
requires patience of us.
However ideal we imagine it,
every garden is from somewhere. If we love such a place, there is a duty to
know what can be known of how the place comes to us, comes into our possession.
What can we know of what was before us, of what comes before the garden we
know? Is it better to think of the garden possessing us? Is stewardship a
mutual encounter? This is the place where peace can be made.
This book focusses attention on
the garden-in-particular inhabited by the poet. Research for the work involves
understanding the relationship between country (in the indigenous sense) and
the idea of garden; it involves a historicized understanding of how gardens are
and can be in the place we call Australia (under the clouds of the field
guide). Permaculture, no-dig gardening, weeding the bush, icons like the Yates
Garden Guide all have a place in understanding the meaning of gardens in this
particular context.
Because of the necessity of
care, there is no simply being in the garden; there is no absorption in the
moment, no transcendent calm of having arrived. The garden is the all-to-do; a
process of becoming and coming to be with - a process of treaty making. The
garden is work, of nature (its own for instance), never to be finished.
I write a last will and
testament as the closing poem of the book. Neither will that ever be completed.
All works a draft until we're gone. We
hope the garden will survive us but intentions disperse into time we cannot
know.
In this book, along with the poems,
drawings/paintings express on paper or canvas the work of garden
making/mulching: a dis/integration of word, thought, image, map, plan.
Impact
Professional Development
At this career stage it is
possible, with support, to devote time to projects on a larger scale, building
on and integrating various past efforts.
This is 'culminating work', the way for which has been paved in early
publications and exhibitions.
The prolegomenon for the first
planned book, A Field Guide to Australian Clouds, won the local award in
the Newcastle Poetry Prize last year (2017), and its twelve parts were
published in the prize anthology. This skyward aspect of the overall project is
long foreshadowed in much previous work, for instance in my 2010 poem and exhibition
Time with the Sky.
The best possible contribution to
be made at this career stage is to devote totally focussed effort to the
complex task of weaving together topics and methods prominent in the work now
for many years. The aim is to produce work at a higher level of coherence than
has been previously attempted.
More Widely
The hope is to create a work (and works) of major
significance in Australian letters. Poetry is a leading edge in national and
international culture, and a guiding force in literary form and conscience. The
aim of this project is to open new territory for Australian poetry, cast in an
international light (with, for instance a good prospect of translation). Along
the lines of forms established in Chinese culture since classical times, the
plan is to bring visual art and text work together both in print and in
exhibition format, and so reach a wider audience than has typically been
possible.
Together, these three books
encourage attention to presence through the contemplation of the sky and
through the work (and play) of being in the garden (regardless of purpose or
purposelessness). Relevance to the reader is in the present urgency of our
realising the idea of a garden in the temporal world we the living inhabit.
In our epoch, beginning to be
called the anthropocene, for the first time humans have come to have major impacts on our planet's sky. As a
species we are capable of a consciousness and growing detailed understanding of
these effects.
Our relationship as a species,
with the sky, is, in our time, suddenly, probably irrevocably, altered. We now
know, for instance, that many things seen in the sky are not really there. As you read this the number of humans
airborne (i.e. in the sky) - somewhere between half a million and a million -
is roughly equivalent to the human population of the planet ten thousand years
ago, at the time when agriculture began, perhaps the time of the first
prototypes of gardens. None of our nations or organised religions or political
entities then existed. What we think of as 'human history' was yet to happen.
Yet it is reasonable to speculate that humans of that time were more fascinated
with and focussed on understanding the sky than your typical air traveller or
religious believer today. Humans then must also have had a greater personal
interest in the experiments that led to the tending of gardens. It is also
worth noting that the number of deaths due to air pollution worldwide is
annually ten times what the human population of the world was ten thousand
years ago.
Destination for an
adventure-in-mind, the garden is not a place of arrival; it is more of a
journey on the spot - where we need to be and what we need to do.
OZCO REPORT FOR ATARAXIA
from
Kit Kelen
I
devoted myself to the production of original poetry and visual art as my
principal daily activity over the period of the grant. I did not take days off
from this work or give myself weekends.
I
drafted poems on all of the 1096 days of this three year grant. These can be
found, for 2019, at the Project 366 blog https://project365plus.blogspot.com/
(which ran from the beginning of 2016 to
the end of 2019), and, for 2020, at my exclusive personal blog – https://thedailykitkelen.blogspot.com/
, along with visual art work which I also did almost every day. Of the poems drafted
in this way through my daily practice, a majority reflect the tripartite
division of the project ATARAXIA, as I had conceived it four years ago. Almost
all of my poetry work currently fits into the overarching ATARAXIA thematics.
.
The original
conception of the ATARAXIA project was for the production of three related
books, these being –
-
a field guide to
Australian clouds
-
a book of
pictures
-
ataraxia
The
idea of ataraxia is associated with the garden as venue for human purposes
harmonized with nature. Ataraxia is the state of equanimity and tranquility at
which various classical philosophies aimed. The gardener, the painter, the poet
- each cultivates an attitude of care towards work which is unending. The core
of this project is focus on the making of art as means to ataraxia. The garden
is where we are with the sky, with the poem and with the picture coming into
being.
The
project was to be – and is – about the world (as planet, as inhabited space),
about place-in-particular as habitation (bringing about a garden where one
lives) and about the process of art as enabling this way of dwelling. All of
the work I have done over the last three years fits these broad parameters.
However,
there has been some rearrangement of the project, and significant expansion,
during this time. While the first and last parts of the project remain,
respectively sky (a field guide to Australian
clouds) and garden (ataraxia) focussed,
the middle part of the book project has been reconceived to include –
-
godsbother (poems
about theological, religious and irreligious themes)
-
sleep
to dream again (a book of dreams)
These
two collections now at the centre (each currently consisting of several hundreds
of pages of drafts) are currently in fluid form, and may yet eventually be
combined as one work. This is too early to say. The ekphrastic work, and the
creation of poems about visual art practice, and the visual art practice that
has coincided with these activities, have all continued apace but I no longer
necessarily view these as integral to the project overall. Rather than seeing
the visual work and its word accompaniment as being at the centre of the
project, I now see it as, not inessential, but peripheral – a kind of packaging
or bounding for the whole. I currently have easily enough material for a
stand-alone volume of ekphrastic poems, but my focus remains on the ATARAXIA
project overall.
In
terms of related visual art practice, I have conceived a large-scale text and
image exhibition/installation to be titled CALLIGRAPHATE! – a forest of words
concerning the forest. Whack & Blight
– a modest exhibition of preliminary work towards CALLIGRAPHATE! was held
at the Shop Gallery in Glebe, NSW, in February of 2021. At the end of the 2022,
a second exhibition, Kvazaŭ – Rompitaj Labarintoj
/ As if – Bung Mazes will be held.
One
might think of the CALLIGRAPHATE! project as a spin off from ATARAXIA, and
there are others, including a volume of poems in Esperanto (currently in
preparation), and a Greek-English bilingual volume A Postcard from the Fires – A Picture of the Floods (a 150 page
large format illustrated parallel text creation), currently in press with Kaleidoscope in Athens and set to appear
early in 2022. A volume in Romanian is also in preparation. Hangover from my
academic career, two scholarly volumes are making an appearance around now – Ethics of Anthropomorphism – Children,
Animals and Poetry (with Routledge) and a large co-edited book of Jabberwocky
translations and commentaries, soon to appear in the UK with Evertype. These
outputs may seem irrelevant to the ATARAXIA project but in fact they have
provided important scenic-ethical background material for the larger, more
personal, creative work.
At
this convenient ‘stocktake moment’, I can now see ATARAXIA overall as a sequenced
(or better to say, nested), collection of four or five books …or alternatively,
or as well, as a tome of poems containing all of the parts mentioned above. Fact
is, were a publisher to give me a six month deadline to work from drafts to a
finished product ready for press, for any of the parts of the project, this
would present no problem. My main interest however is in the production of the
complete work, which may be coordinated in the form of a New and Selected or
(more ambitiously) a New and Collected. I have come to see the ATARAXIA project
more in the light of an ultimate poetry project – a kind of Leaves of Grass – that will continue to
evolve as long as I have the means. It
is of course very easy to say that ‘things take as long as they take’. One
project morphs into another and the completion horizon frequently pushes
further away. I acknowledge this might be problematic/unconvincing if the poet
making the claim were not coming up with the goods, in terms of publication. Apart from the translated volumes I mention
above, I note that my new volume of poems, Book
of Mother, is in press with Puncher & Wattmann and scheduled to appear
next month.
Lastly,
I should mention – in terms of public airing of the project-in-progress – that
the ‘prolegomenon‘ for a field guide to
Australian Clouds won the Local Award in the Newcastle Poetry Prize in 2017.
Very recently, it was a great boost to me to have the title poem ‘ataraxia’
placed third overall in the Newcastle Poetry Prize for 2021. I now feel that
the core of the project has currency in Australian letters.
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