Adriana Kobor (Italy)
Editor's note: Adriana Kobor is an artist, writer and contributor to the Asemic Front project. She wrote this response to a question I asked a group of asemic writers & visual poets: Where does collage end & visual poetry begin?
I do not like collage
with words. I do not hate vispo without them. (That is the very lacunaeous
interpretation of a "non-expert" observer.)
I love poems without words,
though, because they are the highest expression of feelings of life, after all.
I would love James Joyce without meaning; but I do not love Scrabble, if not by
kids. Where does my patience end? When will I really drop that poem-scarabeus
on the canvas, finally? I am still in the pre-preparation process... drinking
coffee. Regarding the fact that you are far, what would you think about a cozy
chat without the distance? I am kidding. But the original idea of the thought
is that it can be diminished into such tiny parts that it can compose itself in
its opposites, still containing a black hole in the middle. Anything, that is
considered art, loses its original purpose, some way. I do not want to be long
and cheesy, but I go with the thought of Lowell (as soon as it is published, it
is destroyed) and Cortazar ("What good is a writer if he can't destroy
literature?") The thought is not about “elemental destruction” or "deconstruction.” For me, it is in the seasonal decay of the Fluxus, which
builds and rebuilds and destroys it, after all. (I do not like to use the word
Fluxus, because it is a cult, a way too symbolic one, so we could just
constitute it with the fluctuating waves.) It is all brains and feeling. If one
creates without feeling, it is absolute zero, but it is cute; if one creates
without brains, it is cute trash; if one creates because s/he cannot do
otherwise, it is a great deal of life of his/hers destroyed, altogether. So whatever
you called it, let us stay with the nominal value and not the theory. Do not
call it a thing; you will get even closer. I want to excuse myself for my
indecent adagio, but I had this on my mind while reading your "words.” In
cumulating fashion/passion: art exhibited should be watched from the opposite
side of the wall (where it is hanging). This is the didactic I would use during
an exhibition, or in a gallery; but everyone would hate me, not being able to
use their natural quantum juxtaposition with the “subject.” Yes, I can detect
my anxious word-flow, but I do not give a shit about the condescending
psychology which would legitimately muddy my words, wanted to be written, so
let us leave it like this: Let us leave it how it is. That is the beauty of it
all. (I am not a writer and surely not self-promoting. I am for free
expression, that I would always promote. If I were a collage, I would not give
a shit what they would call me. I would just exist and be happy if people would
get “some impressions.” I will not wash this comment off me for long, but I am
not in the least ashamed having said it. Being offended for the essence of it,
would remain the only thing which lasts. Closing question: Who the heck
invented the word asemics and since when is it considered an art form? Same for
Vispo. Same for collage. Same for anything which needed a name so people can
talk about it. It is s not in the name, I suppose. It is the categorization
which I personally hate, of course. But if one must, so be it. I will think
further, in silence. The canvas is still “untouched” and “pure.” The coffee is
getting cold in the meanwhile. I am still in a “poetic” distance from the
reality I described, so far.
- Adriana Kobor
Adriana Kobor performs with visual poet Luc Fierens (Belgium)
