TRS (#3) 2-10-09: Boundaries

Boundaries... storytelling... from within the institute we broadcast our tales even as the tales we tell broadcast our buildings... oh, I'll quit being so enigmatic and just say: welcome to this week's show.

1) The first 7:11 excerpted from Vito Acconci's Bristol Project (I've been waiting to play this awhile and if you're getting up at 4 am this will probably lull you right back to sleep but it promises a nice nod back off to...) The entire piece is nearly 50 minutes; a quite lovely, audio glimpse "that informs" (sorry, art school verbiage) Acconci's later work...

2) "Interior Conversations #1" - This week features UI sculpture graduate student Erica Damman, as she discusses windows in the air, doors through trees, and her work in the Institute of Storytelling...

3) Kenneth Goldsmith, excerpt from Traffic (from a 3-28-07 reading at Moma) (12:14)

4) JohnEKilowatt performs "Panther Rabbi" (6:20)

5) John Cage and Rahsaan Roland Kirk "Sound?" will fill out the remainder of the hour... I feel a little guilty about putting such a long piece on the air (and for saturating my show with John Cage in the early goings) but I think this is justified because his ideas are such a fundamental backbone for the ideas I am after in this show on a weekly basis, but also specifically this week's "boundaries" slant. This piece is brilliant, it's actually a film, the link for the film is above, you should watch it. (26:37)


I want to especially thank Erica Damman for her collaboration this week and support of this radio show/project in general. In our conversations leading up to this week's "interview" she spoke of the following poem... Her piece (see photo below), named after it's title, is located at the new U of I Studio Arts building and I've included the poem because this is the internet and information wants to be free:

Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry
by Howard Nemerov

Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.

There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.


---------


And on a trivial note: Nemerov was brother to the late, great photographer Diane Arbus... thanks for listening...