Poetry is words that are empowered to make your hair stand on end, that you realize instantly as being some form of subjective truth that has an objective reality to it, because somebody has realized it.
—Allen Ginsberg, No Direction Home
Our favorite sets from the Brooklyn music festival /
by Jenn Pelly and Liz Pelly
There are screams you don’t forget. Foreplay is the duo of writer and artist Jane Chardiet with Chris Hansell, a former member of the Men whose guttural hardcore death-shrieks contributed significantly to that band’s best record (“Leave Home”, 2011). Together, Chardiet and Hansell make industrial noise that is performative and utterly engrossing. This ten-minute set was alarmingly direct, packing more raw intensity than most bands manage in a proper set. They began with an audio sample culled from the depths of YouTube, wherein a girl describes her obsession with vomiting, a disturbing case of bulimia. She prepares to force herself to throwup: “My little brother is probably going to hear me vomiting but I don’t give a fuck.” The duo’s punishing power electronics drop. In turn, Chardiet and Hansell scream their souls clean, bodies bent, chests beat; they viscerally purge their own emotions. Kim Gordon was headlining that night so perhaps I had her on my mind. I recalled a quote from her 1983 Artforum essay on live music; “People pay to see others believe in themselves.” Each scream was a reminder. You can purge what has wronged you and keep what makes you sane. -jp
During the Northside festival I put together a showcase featuring Kim Gordon’s noise project, Body/Head, and Kathleen Hanna’s new band, the Julie Ruin. These are two artists who have massively influenced the way I relate to art. In weeks leading up to the show, at the metal bar Saint Vitus in Brooklyn, I watched the video for “Bull in the Heather” on repeat and thought I might cry of excitement that night. But I don’t have heroes. No tears were shed. Body/Head will be one of my favorite live noise acts for as long as they continue, abstract guitar poetry that’s equally abrasive and droning and meditative. It’s a set I could watch for . . .
via The Media.
“Poesien formeligt emmer ud af hver eneste af Asta
Olivia Nordenhofs sætninger, hvad enten det er på bloggen
(jegheddermitnavnmedversaler), på hendes facebook eller i de to hidtidige
bøger, Et ansigt til Emily og den seneste, mesterværket det nemme og det
Som digter er Nordenhof næsten helt ufatteligt generøs, intet
holdes tilbage, intet er ikke tilladt, hvad som helst kan få plads. Og
eftersom hun er poesi fra inderst til yderst, så er det så vidunderligt
smukt og hårdt og ubærligt og rørende at læse hende.
Et sted skriver hun: ”hvilken fryd! ingen har deres facts straight! alle har hovedet oppe i
røven!” Man er ikke blot tilgivet, men faktisk elsket for at være et
fæhoved. Det føles tåbeligt og overflødigt, nærmest pinligt at skulle
begrunde hvorfor Asta Olivia Nordenhof skal have det 3-årige legat.
Selvfølgelig skal hun det; det er hinsides enhver tvivl.”