Showing posts with label John Kinsella. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Kinsella. Show all posts

Monday, September 26, 2022

Two Poets Paint: John Kinsella & Glen Phillips art exhibition at Sandalwood Yards Gallery, York

 By Tracy

Saturday 24th September saw the opening by Will Yeoman of an exhibition that will run for 2 weeks (till 8th October) containing works by John Kinsella & Glen Phillips, as part of the York Festival. This exhibition is located on Ballardong Noongar Boodja.


Glen's works feature wheatbelt landscapes; John's are interpretations of scenes from Dante's Divine Comedy.

Entry to the exhibition is free, and the artists' works are for sale.

Sat 24 Sep – Sat 8 Oct (Wed – Sun, 10am-4pm)

Sandalwood Yards Gallery, 179 Avon Terrace, York

You can watch & hear John reading a poem from his Divine Comedy: Journeys Through a Regional Geography at the launch here

Some photos from the gallery:


Glen Phillips & Rita Tognini in front of some of Glen's works


John Kinsella & Tracy Ryan with some of John's works

Tuesday, July 13, 2021

Supervivid Depastoralism

 A new book for those interested — Supervivid Depastoralism.


Cover Painting by Stephen Kinsella


Book description: I don't sleep much or very well (I have a recent book of poetry entitled Insomnia!), but, when I do, I often have supervivid dreams. It is said that in the time of Covid-19, many people are speaking of having more vivid dreams than usual, and though the poems in this manuscript are not-specifically 'Covid-19 poems', at certain points of the manuscript they certainly make contact with this overwhelming reality and condition of crisis. But this is essentially a book in a lifecycle of trying to confront and consider the impacts of colonial agribusiness mono agricultural practices on Australia, and how it is or isn't possible to write about these issues within the conventions of the pastoral tradition of literature. Can 'pastoralism' and environmentalism intersect in meaningful ways or is it all a colonial ruse? As a committed environmentalist and human rights landrights justice campaigner, my poetry necessarily considers the place I work out of (largely wheatbelt Western Australia), and the problems of writing poetry 'about' rurality and ecology, as well as addressing the ongoing colonialism. This new book is an attempt to push my anti, post, counter, and radical pastoral to the point where it also becomes a means of considering where agricultural culpabilities intersect with personal histories and behaviours, where creativity that comes out of a critique of invasive and damaging wrongs is in itself up for question. So this is a work of self-critique, questioning, and also aspiration to vividly confront and find ways through this crisis of presence. The 'Australian Pastoral' is a construct, a propaganda device that suits all sorts of oppressive modes, and is easily a place to retreat into even when it is being questioned: I am trying to bring all this into eclogic discussion, to contest it further as part of a long and linguistically diverse process of contestation. This book 'connects' with other books on 'pastoral' I have written over the decades, including other recent work (in progress) on odes and eclogues (longer pieces largely) - but this is a collection of shorter poems. The book could be subtitled: Eclogix.

    John Kinsella

Saturday, August 15, 2020

Photos of Urs Jaeggi and the Kinsella/Ryan Family Zurich Late January, 2020

    Posted by John Kinsella

Sometime before the lockdown period (late January, 2020), on a special day when Tracy and Tim met up with Urs Jaeggi in Zurich and he and I spent the afternoon working in the James Joyce Foundation. We later all caught up at the Orell Füssli bookshop where these photos were taken:

John and Urs



Tim, John, Urs


Tracy and Urs



Friday, June 1, 2018

Big Sky Geraldton and False Claims of Colonial Thieves

By Tracy




Last weekend saw Geraldton's Big Sky Readers and Writers Festival, an annual literary event. This year we all went up because John was there along with Yamaji poet and artist, Charmaine Papertalk Green to read from and discuss the poetry book on which they have collaborated, False Claims of Colonial Thieves.

To quote the website of the publisher, Magabala Books, 

“Papertalk Green and Kinsella call into question what we think we know about our country, colonisation, land and identity. Each poem is part of a striking conversation that surrounds topics such as childhood, history, life, love, mining, death, respect and cultural diversity. This extraordinary publication weaves two differing lives and experiences together and rarely pauses for breath.”

Here are a few photographs from the event for this book, hosted by Trudi Cornish & Nola Gregory, held in the Geraldton Library.


Charmaine Papertalk Green with Trudi Cornish, Acting Manager, Libraries & Heritage


John Kinsella reads at the Geraldton Library



Charmaine Papertalk Green reads from her poems in False Claims of Colonial Thieves

Monday, August 15, 2016

Graphology Chronotype 34: Parking Refugees -- a poem by John Kinsella


by John


Graphology Chronotype 34: Parking Refugees


Wilson’s parking — ‘Expensive,
don’t you think?’ Yes, close kin
of Wilson’s of Nauru. Security.
You know, where victims
are guilty and sex crimes
are as the case may be
and the Minister says
what’s what about self-
immolation. Security. Private.
And privacy of a sort.
They have many locations
in the city. Each lot
a kingdom. Your cars
in their care. Security.
Underwriting the Island
where no man, woman
or child can be entire of itself.
Impoverished, bought off
by the Australian
Government, sub-let
to Wilson’s. Fire sale.
Big island little island
what begins with I?
Disconcerting?
But don’t worry,
Wilson’s is watching out
for the silent majority
right here where cars
need somewhere to park.
Security. Your cars
in their care. And anyway,
how many cars could they
fit on Nauru? Diversify.
Security. Living space.


            John Kinsella





Monday, August 8, 2016

Vegan 30th-anniversary poem by John Kinsella (Graphology sequence)

by John Kinsella


Graphology Chronotype 24: Fantasias on Veganism (on the thirtieth anniversary of my veganism)


(i)

I lift the word cadence but improvisation is Bottesini’s

            different calenture, differing application
            of eating utensils: one model
            serves all

this interview with materials used in making an instrument
            the tip of a pool cue

all of it concrete
            variations

remember those ballet shoes you had made? — non-leather
            to dance with the troupe in & out of the wings

or gut of that doubling
I hear and integrate

what to do with, where to go

this Fantastic Voyage via
philosophies adapted to the way
they want to live    ‘They’
belonging to philosophies,
not the life story


(ii)

Not mentioning the craft of insectivore weebills
            so small
staying on track between wattles
in a high wind — you’d think they’d be tossed
and buffeted and dashed on the granites
knuckling through this fast-eroding hillside

but no, they are intact   complete   and don’t need me
and my inherited subjectivity, my wilfulness as they pinpoint

Not mentioning their craft, their particularised
strength to make landfall, line-of-sight
flight to branch on neighbouring wattle

would be to close out web of myth and facts
that might or might not catch all

            as full disclosure

and though no person you know eats weebills
there’s autonomy beyond your ken
and walking into the wind —
            shirt a tattered flag
without denomination —
is cross-referencing, an experientialism

hunkering down against
the ripping sou’westerlies



(iii) Ontologies Dreamed like the Benzene Molecule — an Address, of Sorts...


So, my ethical veganism becomes your ontological
categorisation to offset your own convenience store
of locality to qualify the ecology you know is right?
            Property settlements. Pay-slips.
Factory farm of belief as if it needs to fit your system?
These human dualists drawing animals into the realm
of human compassion, the imposition of separateness!

Flexible templates of locality. The beautiful
hypocrisies of text. Friends and loved ones
will always believe up to a point, or stage
their compassionate interventions. Agency
of each cell is beyond the networks of agriculture,
the grain plains of the Western Australian wheatbelt,
the utility of kangaroo-farming? The factories
of agronomy? See, I can oppose the out-of-kilter
of the plant-based — as much as you can oppose the factories
of animal production and still excuse the use of animals.

Delineating consumerism’s many faces. Threat of nirvana.
            Fetish of communication.
The interweaving of predators to tell a story,
to sinew experience as declaration.

No ecology is above what makes it sounds like an instruction.
Am I suggesting this? Am I ecology as definition,
an ontology of pantheism in which animals walk their way
because humans moved away, told stories
of human and animal selves separating and morphing
            and separating? Our rhizomes?
Kernels and husks, germs and ears of grain. The plains.
This tree arm, the rings of my tender body shedding.

The space about ‘food’ in the mouth:
light trapped in darkness, pockets and cavities
of air and darkness, the watery universality.
            Pure as the driven –ism. Re-
framed as signature terminology. Reference
in any contemporary discussion of veganism.
This infiltration of self. Of self-justification.
            Wholly holy ouroboros —
snake eating itself a dream invented to fit
the new mode of living. Here in the West.


(iv)

The choice
is made
and was made
outside product — each fad that means
fewer animals exploited and killed
is good; but we must
be wary of the product
that brings down
the ecosystem, feeds the state
which will eat animal and plant,
vegetable and mineral,
with an insatiable appetite,
shit out the planet.

An example? Palm oil?
Jungles are cleared
for the sake. These vegan snacks
can mean the death of so many individuals
that the term ‘species’ (as in extinction)
is the only collective noun
that is translatable
here.

So ‘product’
packaging of planet
will salve only desire:
ontologically or otherwise.
And all product is local
at this point, and that.
A mirror.



            John Kinsella



Sunday, July 31, 2016

Graphology Chronotype 21: Desecrations of Place by Pokemon Go and its Soldiers — a poem


By John


Graphology Chronotype 21: Desecrations of Place by Pokemon Go and its Soldiers


The new colonialism
eliminates or integrates
the water’s edge. The Avon River
is replete and despite the chemical
run-off it can’t quite process,
birdlife is rife along its banks.

Perched in dying paperbarks
spoonbills eke out nesting plans,
and sacred ibises preen
themselves with optimism?
A problem with me using this term?
Really? Try the trampling-under

of birds and riparian vegetation
as the eye of the telephone
mediates the real world
into digestible auguries: and where
a rare white swan swings
its neck, a Pokemon perches,

scowling and grimacing.
Trodden under, this nature
of encounter, this exercise
routine to coax emergence
from the caves of gaming,
this tracking of each and every

cybernetic soul, this savvy
that marginalises non-participants
and swallows tales of capitalist
liberty with addicted gulps,
is a travesty of seeing. Too blunt?
Each step into privacy,

each sucking of another’s skin,
each moment of worship interrupted
and over-ridden, each threshold
crossed to gather location
to conquest, is the theft
of reality from non-participants,

all sucked into a vortex of deadlife.
The sacred ibises preen with optimism,
believing, along with spoonbills,
that they will nest and raise their young,
and see what they see with their own eyes.
Violation of geography, absorption of ‘outdoors’.



            John Kinsella