Two arms with C+R temporary tattoos

Call + Response tattoos.

Thank you to everyone who came to the panel discussion and/or opening Saturday night! We were thrilled with how everything turned out, and we appreciate everyone who attended, contributed, participated, or helped in some way.

If you didn’t make it to the opening, or made it but weren’t able to spend as much time with the writing and art as you would have liked, the exhibit will run until May 7. Hamiltonian Gallery is open Tuesday through Saturday, noon to 6:00 p.m. and by appointment.

The panel discussion for Call + Response: Textures

The panel discussion at the opening.

 

A thumb from a piece of art from Call + Response: Textures

Here’s a small, small bit of one of the works. I won’t say whose. What I will say is that after visiting the gallery yesterday and seeing everyone’s pieces in various stages of creation, this is going to be a hell of a show. Giving each artist extra space has turned out really well. I hope you’ll come see for yourself.

Also, thanks to Brightest Young Things for the kind writeup, following upon their feature coverage from last year’s opening.

Lots of activity already this week, as you might imagine!

  • Jon Bobby Benjamin installed his piece.
  • TM Sisters are scouring thrift stores across the District for the materials they need.
  • Maggie Michael is working on her portion of the gallery each evening this week.
  • Amanda Burnham will be installing Friday.
  • The Potomac Review wrote up a nice interview with Kira and me.
  • Brightest Young Things will be following up on their feature from last year with a new post in the next day or so.

And don’t forget about the participant panel, which will start at 5:30 p.m. Saturday evening. We’re excited to hear from the participants and catch the writers’ initial reactions to the pieces created in response to their work! See you there.

We hit our Kickstarter goal about a week ago, and today our 30 days are officially up. What else can we say but a HUGE thank you to everyone who contributed, especially to our amazing donors, and also to everyone who helped spread the word.

This $917 will bring talented artists and writers to DC for the opening—just one week from today! We hope to see many of the donors there so we can thank you in person. Remember, the discussion panel with the participants starts at 5:30 p.m., and the opening gets underway at 7 p.m. See you there!

Dan Brady of Barrelhouse magazine (and a participant in last year’s show) recently talked with Kira and me about how we find participants, what it’s like to work with Hamiltonian, the signifiance of “textures,” and more. Check out the full interview.

In other news, tonight the posters go up! Look for your two curators out and about in Columbia Heights and around U Street with a bucket of wheatpaste and a stack of eye-catching, Oliver Munday-designed posters.

Naomi Ayala is a very talented poet in two languages, English and Spanish. Kira and I have had the pleasure of working with her on other projects before, and we’re delighted that she is participating in Call + Response: Textures. Here’s what she had to say about the challenges and rewards of mixing artistic genres:

For a while, I collaborated closely with a dance company on call-and-response pieces onstage.  I had been a closet dancer for many years and having to join others in improvising dance responses to my poetry in public was a challenge I’ll never forget. The fear and the thrill helped me push the boundaries of how I conceptualized rhythm and, adding movement to the creative-fire mix, fueled new work, new ways of “seeing.”

I have also had the great fortune to collaborate with musicians—two blues bands and a Dadaist poetry-music ensemble that performed in New York City and throughout New England. They made me a better poet, propelled me to think expansively about my work. This is the great gift of interdisciplinary collaboration in the arts.

Among my many blessings are long-time friendships with artists and artisans, among whom figure a dozen or so painters. I’ve always felt that painters really “get me” when it comes to the inner workings of my poetry mind, and the sensualist bends that are a product of my culture, my love for the natural world, and just being a person of the arts. We must sniff, scratch, look over, into, beneath… We are our senses, and love to be engaged with the world in a dialogue about all the ebbs and flows.

Thrilled to be invited to take part in this year’s Call & Response, my mind took me whirling in a thousand directions.  I wanted to catch a Jungian psychotherapist I know off guard and ask “What does texture mean to you? Really, don’t analyze it, just tell me.” And jot his response down.

I wanted to ask my friend Pepe Gonzalez, an accomplished bass player who once performed with Miles Davis… Martin Obeng, a Ghanaian master drummer with whom I’ve spent countless hours of my life discussing sound… Sal Colbert, a Cherokee “Spirit Helper,” and other friends—a pilot, an environmental lawyer, a nonprofit comptroller, a biologist, the two sisters who own the bodega down the street, the gardener next door, an architect I worked with on a construction project who once told me he was ready to “articulate the space.”  I knew that what they shared with me, collectively, would give me texture itself. Frenzied, I made lists, envisioned a structure for this choir of voices.

In the end, it was another experience that led me to write “Eyes Looking,” my piece in the Call and Response show.  Yet, the journey beforehand made me open to potential collaborations I had not considered. To continue to grow, those of us who live and practice our art in the District need to create more and more opportunities for such exchanges. Articulating our creative lives with interdisciplinary collaborations brings new textures to our work.

Stuart DybekOur third guest post is by Stuart Dybek. Stuart’s accolades could fill an entire post themselves (read his full bio), but suffice it to say he’s one of our all-time favorite writers, and we could not be more thrilled that he’s participating.

Writing is an art in which the medium—language—is abstract. I revere the arts that are perceived through the senses—music, painting, sculpture, film, dance—and I envy their naturally sensual nature. As a writer, I try to learn from them and to emulate their sensuality in language. Many of my favorite writers are those that I think of as swimming upstream against abstraction, poets like William Butler Yeats and Eugenio Montale, fiction writers like Italo Calvino, James Joyce, Eudora Welty. But in that active, unique relationship between writer and reader—as opposed to viewer—in which the reader is a co-creator, there is one great advantage to abstraction: agility. That agility is why a device like flashback (notice the flash) that can seem so clumsy and artificial on stage or in film—two art forms that essentially take place in real time—seems natural in fiction. Real time is impossible in the abstract world of fiction, which makes fiction the ideal vehicle for travel in time. In the mere turn of a phrase, “She thought back to last summer when…” or a single word, “yesterday,” the reader can do what physicists say isn’t possible: flow backward in time.

That agility of an abstract medium is utilized in “Bruise;” not because the story flashes back and forth between past and present, but in the way it cuts between the normal everyday dimensions of the scene—a woman and a man inside a house—and the micro close-up of the bruise. As the story develops and builds, that micro image of the bruise asserts itself more and more strongly until it takes the story over. Closure relies on the same agility when the micro image of the bruise suddenly expands to cover the sky.

Reese KwonOur next guest post comes from Reese Okyong Kwon, a incredibly talented writer and friend of ours who recently moved to DC. Here’s what she had to say about her experience writing a piece for Call + Response (cross-posted on her own site).

Talking about music is like dancing about architecture, it’s said, except maybe it isn’t, because what about the memorable passage in Howard’s End about Beethoven’s Fifth (“Now comes the wonderful movement: first of all the goblins, and then a trio of elephants dancing”), or the ending of Baldwin’s “Sonny’s Blues,” or Vinteuil’s sonata in Proust, or, or, or?

I’m very excited to be part of this April’s Call + Response line-up, in which four visual artists will create work in response to four short literary pieces, including one by yours truly. The other writers are Stuart Dybek, Naomi Ayala, and Srikanth Reddy; the artists are Amanda Burnham, Maggie Michael, Jon Bobby Benjamin, and TM Sisters. The organizers, William Bert and Kira Wisnewski, had asked for a short, previously unpublished story, and I’d been rereading “Sonny’s Blues,” which got me thinking about writing about musical performances, which reminded me of a burlesque show I’d once seen on the Lower East Side.

I’d once, long ago, tried to write about that show, and didn’t like what I had; I tried again, and turned it into the story that will be on display starting April 16th at the Hamiltonian Gallery in DC, side-by-side with what Maggie Michael makes. So! Maggie Michael’s X will in some way be inspired by my Y, which was inspired by a few burlesque dancers’ Z, which I believe is like talking about music about architecture about dancing?

Srikanth ReddyWe asked each of our participants to write a little about their Call + Responses: Textures experience. Our very first participant post comes from Chicago poet Srikanth Reddy (we know him better by his nickname, Chicu). Chicu’s poetry has won the Asian American Literary Award, and he’s now a professor at the University of Chicago. (Read his full bio.) Here’s what he had to say:

Though I’ve heard of some poets who deliberately court distraction by writing in cafés, airports or train stations, and even at cocktail parties, in my experience composing a poem is one of the most solitary occuptions imaginable. (In a letter to a fiancée he never married, Kafka describes the literary requirement of solitude: “What I need for my writing is seclusion, not ‘like a hermit,’ that would not be enough, but like the dead.”)  So I didn’t know what would come of it when the curators of “Call and Response” invited me to submit work for a collaborative exhibit at the Hamiltonian Gallery.  I would be writing in conversation with somebody, a visual artist, who I had never met, and who indeed had not even yet selected my unwritten “call” as the basis of his or her future “response.”  In other words, I was calling to somebody, but I didn’t know whom.

Then again, this is what all writing is like, isn’t it?  The collaborative enture at the Hamiltonian simply underscored the conditions of writing – the calling, the uncertainty as to who will answer, and the waiting to see what the response will look like – in a particularly dramatic form.  Later I learned that the artist Jon Bobby Benjamin would be responding to my writing, and, after seeing the haunting (and haunted) dereliction of his drawings and assemblages, I knew that I had found an ideal interlocutor.

Now that my “call” is completed, I’m in the pleasant state of expectation which comes with waiting for a “response.”  I’ve also continued to work on what I originally sent the curators of this exhibit, and, to my surprise, I find in it the beginnings of a new book of poetry.  So I’m grateful to have been called, and eager to see where this work will take me.

Wiliam writing and Kira paintingAn essential element of Call + Response is bringing all the participants to town for the show’s opening. We want everyone to meet the artist/writer they’re paired with and to see the complete paired artworks they helped to create!

To that end, check out this Kickstarter Kira and I put together to help Srikanth Reddy and the TM Sisters get to DC on April 16. It comes complete with a fun and silly video we shot on a Saturday afternon. (The unbelievably talented and helpful John Spain did an amazing job editing our raw footage.)

And a HUGE thanks to everyone who has already shown their support!

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