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1. @georgelazenby : How Goes the Enemy?

   This conceptual video poem takes the idea of scheduled presentation to a mind-boggling scale. It consists of 19 lines from the @georgelazenby Twitter feed presented in 5-second loops times its factorial factorial, so upon launching, the first line will play right away (5x0), the second will play after 5 seconds (5x1), the third after 10 seconds (5x2), the fourth after 30 seconds (5x6), the fifth after 2 minutes (5x24), the sixth after 10 minutes (5x120), the seventh after 1 hour (5x720), the eighth after 7 hours (5x5040), the eighth after 2 days and 8 hours (5x40320), the ninth after 21 days (5x362880), and… you get the idea. It not only becomes impractical but humanly impossible, since the time scale continues to grow line by line until it is longer than the age of the universe. Can you keep the computer running continuously for more than the 6 years it takes to reach line 11? How about the 75 years after that to reach line 12?

   (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

   Hannelen Leirvåg - 28.02.2013 - 20:02

2. Expansive Mayhem

   The interpretive dance performance seeks to evoke the experience of a concussion and does so by clustering six dancers on a side of the stage using red lighting to suggest a sense of the inside of the speaker’s head. When the dancers are clustered, swaying semi-coherently, they evoke the sense of a brain function normally, but as the piece progresses it begins to unravel, as the dancers spiral out of control. Their disjointed movements as they each dance on their own, spread around the stage mimics the cognitive impact of a concussion, echoed by the language hovering over them. The dance performance concludes by returning to normal function, urgently, as one of the dancers runs around the reorganized collective, as if trying to hold them together by sheer force of will as the screen and stage fade to black, leading us to wonder. Has the brain been healed? Has normal language function returned?

   “Expansive Mayhem”
   Choreography: Julia Tedesco and Ellie Sanna
   Poetry: Loss Pequeño Glazier (“Io Sono At Swoons “)
   Music: Jai Uttal and Ben Leinbach
   Dancers: Melissa Hunt, Marika Matsuzak, Stephanie Ohman, Sammi Pfieffer, Samantha Will, Jessica Viglianco

   Hannelen Leirvåg - 28.04.2013 - 18:38

3. Working Memory

   This minimalist scheduled poem engages our ability to hold language in memory in order to act upon it. The text is displayed on two spaces simultaneously, though the header stream begins first before the second one in the box begins to compete for our attention. Each text is displayed one word at a time at a rapid rate, faster than we have grown used to with works by Young-Hae Chang Heavy Industries or William Poundstone’s “Project for Tachitoscope.” In those cases the texts are synchronized to music, and potentially accompanied by other graphical elements, but Hatcher’s poem strips away all distractions from the text, which allows attentive readers to focus most of their consciousness on one of two textual streams, since it is virtually impossible to actually read both and make sense of them. You have to choose a track or risk having your train of thought derailed, so to speak, because of the speed at which they are displayed— 170 miliseconds per word (over 5 words per second).

   Hannelen Leirvåg - 07.05.2013 - 11:37

4. Any Vision

   This work is published as a video documentation of a simultaneously analog and digital poem— an instance of extreme inscription as described by Matthew Kirschenbaum. Written on a semiconductor alloy with “a focus GA ion beam” at font sizes much smaller than a pixel, requiring an electron microscope with magnification “ranges from 400x all the way to 10000x.” The naked eye cannot read this poem unaided, so the video takes us through an edited journey into the poem’s text reminiscent of Prezi, but much cooler in its materiality. (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

   Hannelen Leirvåg - 07.05.2013 - 11:52

5. Walt Whitman

   “Walt Whitman” isn’t a bot, it is a constraint an anonymous scholar took on: to tweet a portion from the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass (almost) every day, sequentially from beginning to end, over and over. I use the word “scholar” because of the foregrounding and choice of edition (which edition of Shakespeare is Strebel using?) and the method of the constraint which forces the scholar to read each line when cutting and pasting it. This discipline has the powerful impact of keeping the scholar’s mind focused on this poet’s work on a daily basis, re-discovering Whitman’s poetry over time, and gaining insight in the process. (Source: Leonardo Flores, I ♥ E-Poetry)

   Hannelen Leirvåg - 09.05.2013 - 23:24

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