Tuesday, Oct 30 – 6:00 PM STAT®REC SLAM #1
Andrea Scrima; David Winner; Erik Rasmussen;
Jennifer Franklin; Phineas Lambert; Uche Nduka
29 Cornelia Street, NYC
Come celebrate our first public event ever and applaud our intrepid readers!
Statorec, deemed “The impetuous radicalism of literary upstarts” by The New York Times and, more recently, “The snob’s solution to the Internet’s democratizing influence on the arts” by Entertainment Weekly, is an online literary magazine of fiction, poetry, criticism, and non-fiction that offers a statement of record to the new century.
Our cultural and political agenda: Total world domination for artists!
Come one, come all! And if you clap (and drink) enough, we’ll be back for #2!
I guess that makes me official. Check it out:
Check out a selection of photos from the installation at Maniére Noire, Berlin
Yesterday I had the pleasure of reading from “Wie viele Tage” in the Orangerie at the 38th Erlanger Poetenfest in Erlangen. Moderation by the wonderful Verena Auffermann.
Translated by Andrea Scrima from the original German edition Am Fenster, wo die Nacht einbricht: Aufzeichnungen (At the window, where night breaks: Notations), Limmat Verlag, Zurich, Switzerland 2013
Read the full selection on Statorec.
EXISTENCE 22 / MOMENTS OF BEING TOUCHED
What one lives from. The brief moments of happiness when one encounters something, a person, a plant, an animal, a phenomenon that touches one in the most profound way, speaks to one, captures, delights one, like chemical elements that attract one another, do not wish to separate. A moment of this kind can be triggered by a musical modulation (Mozart, Chopin, Wagner…) that “strikes” like lightning, pierces the heart so deeply that one never forgets this moment, brief as it might be.—Leafing through an encyclopedia, we are taken by the portrait photo of someone long since deceased, as fierce as love at first sight; the gesticulation of a tree branch catches our eye and, it seems to the viewer, is directed at him; the particular hue of a pond in a watercolor is perceived as a “soul color,” a butterfly as messenger, a lonely cloud as a being that was waiting for one to finally see it; the sudden comprehension of another being; an elective affinity, entered into in a trice with creatures or things of an entirely different provenance. These magical connections between things ordinarily foreign to one another can be induced by works of art, in moments when we are completely open to the point of endangerment, or physically weakened by an ailment; the nerves are raw, the mind is wide awake, perceives, draws connections it would not have in a stronger state.—Spoke to Jannis Zinniker yesterday about these redemptive moments.
“Teaching writing is a virtual impossibility. Faced with the prospect of mentoring students intent on becoming writers themselves, Goetz arrives at the conclusion that the university is not there to promote, but to hinder the results of independent thought, to discourage and intimidate them. He goes so far as to say that the aim of the professorship he is in the process of accepting is to prevent texts from being written in the first place: ‘In certain cases one could even, perhaps, find reasons for this. But even these reasons are essentially uninteresting. What is interesting is that most texts are bullshit. First and foremost, of course, those that arise in front of one’s own eyes, one’s own texts: nearly always bullshit. Bad, weak, useless. Why? I don’t know.’”
Read the full essay and excerpts from Goetz’s lecture in The Brooklyn Rail.