Among the Gospel Trees, the Only Moving Thing

Soumis par Joël Gauthier le lun, 03/21/2011 - 10:44

Auteur·e·s:

Among the Gospel Trees, the Only Moving Thing est la remédiatisation par FiveStone d'un poème d'Amy Newman traitant de l'effet sur l'individu de la contemplation de la nature - sa beauté mystique, le langage secret des oiseaux et des arbres, la conscience du corps physique, etc. Le poème apparaît dans un cadre représentant un champ couvert de givre. Dans un arbre nu à la gauche de l'écran, un cardinal s'ébroue périodiquement. L'internaute doit cliquer sur le lien "Next" dans chaque fragment pour naviguer dans le poème. Chaque fragment est composé d'un ensemble de vers semblant être écrits sur des bouts de papier découpés et d'illustrations baroques reprenant une imagerie quasi mystique. Les composantes des fragments apparaissent d'abord en format réduit, comme loin dans le fond de l'image, puis se rapprochent et se stabilisent. Lorsque l'internaute clique pour passer au fragment suivant, le fragment précédent semble encore avancer avant de disparaître, passant "derrière" l'oeil de l'internaute. Une version texte du poème (html) est aussi disponible.

Infos

Site d'hébergement:

Born Magazine

URL du site d'hébergement:

http://www.bornmagazine.org/

Date de dernière consultation de l'oeuvre:

21 Mars 2011

Coordonnées de l'artiste:

http://www.fivestone.com/

Groupe de recherche:
NT2

Taxonomies

Citation(s)

A red bird preserves a note in its beak / on the cusp of now, / picturing the rich gap it will fill / when the beak opens, and the air volunteers, / as if nature will respond to such trying. / This appeals to my 21st Century loneliness. / That will be the last mention of the eye / of an observer who becomes so unimportant / against these curves and these presumptions, / these roots growing out of an earth / somehow imperative and nonverbal, / somehow inarticulate in typeface, but still pictorial, / this unrelenting yard illustrative of physics / out of the grand books of thought. / Among the evidence of tree, a breeze about to be, / and beneath this: a fleshy kneeling toward belief. / These forms are not tortured in bearing, in burdening, / though rounded under the bird’s about-to-be richness, / human thought a rough technology of skin and brain, / atriums beneath the ribbons of good news / the gospel trees suspend, if their wet bursts of fruit / are evidence of love. If anything were here / it would want to turn toward a chamber of belief, / as any infant ear turns toward the new world, / as pure as fish rolling in the afterthought of waves, / lush as a deep eye, like the horse’s eye, / which is playful because it looks to know something. / If there are mortals there while the horse looks out, / as the playful eye moistens against the impact of air, / they become pure image on the retina, the horse / lowering its head to focus on what’s close. / He lets down the pliant curve of the bowing head. / Among the gospel trees the only moving thing / —beside the fish in the sea, turning in their sleep, / and the horse-rich field, and their focusing eyes, / and their ocular nerves, and their praying manes, / and the horizon against which everything is perceived, / and the shifting field of vision, from left to right, / and you listener, if I risk that chance, / to imagine for a moment your existing there— / were the bird’s soft muscles, holding the passage, / about to trust to the open of air / what it would sing, the burst of dependence all tweet and tweet / as the song moves over its diminishing yield. / Maybe this moved too: the human heart, atrium a-waiting, / all veins strung up with its oohs and aahs, / it intrudes by taking red blood to the chambers, / these provisional zones of pass and pass.

Biographie(s)

Recherche*

Répertoire

Among the Gospel Trees, the Only Moving Thing

Newman, Amy

FiveStone