4.5.15

3 poems @ hotel amerika













Just before lowering his bow
the violinist sees his mother
straightening his collar before the parade

Unfathomable
this love

As everyone got up to leave
we stayed put quietly in our seats

*

Very happy that translations of three poems of mine -"Cadenza" (from my first Greek book, The lifesaver; translated by myself and Stefanos Basigkal), "Chinese movie" (from the second, Uncovered; translated by Moira Egan), and "Jan III" (as yet unpublished in Greek)- appear in the current, 13th volume of "Hotel Amerika" (editor, David Lazar) - amongst a wonderfully diverse and exciting selection of poetry, essays, fiction, trans-genre texts, etc.

(A few lines from each poem form the collage at the top.)

[photograph from my ongoing visual diary, here]

8.1.15

2 poems @ drunkenboat





















issue 19 of "drunken boat" hosts "the orchard" and "in summer, he":



IN SUMMER HE




Salt on his chest and sand on his back
the sun wedged in his eye
all day he wanders
and you have no rest
A sun with heavy eyelashes
animal gait
*
He goes out walking on his own
in the summer noon
Dogs stop in their tracks
turn round and curl up in the doorways
Men shut up in their bedrooms
sweat in their sleep
His steps melt the asphalt
Women hear him coming
and close the windows tight
Children stop their games
Run to the shutters
They only see his bare feet
The city swelters in the sun
the walls are peeling
Its only freshness, he
– taking alone to the streets
*
I first came upon him a full moon
at the end of a passage
between two whitewashed walls –
the quick-lime, his shirt
the moon hanging above
The second time I met him
at the opposite end of that passage
shirtless and
with the sun on his head
The wall curved behind him
a huge palm
pushed him towards me
The way was narrow
I pressed against the whitewash
– he didn’t even notice
Third time I saw him from afar
walk on the asphalt
barefoot –
in early morning’s yellow light
The road skirted the rock
above the sea
Suddenly he paused
and started down the slope
–almost vertical– running
without grabbing onto the bushes
He reached the water –
he stares, hands in his pockets
*
Now nothing’s wanting –
a precipitous thyme
the thickly flowing heatwave
the water’s scales
The sea swells like a face
that’s holding back its tears
He stands he won’t go in


- both from my first book of poems, The lifesaver [To sossivio], Kastaniotis Editions, 2008, and both translated by myself and Stephanos Basigkal.

[photo: p.i., viii.2008 - from my ongoing visual diary]

1.7.12

no oracles here



















Is attempting to translate poetry at the site where Apollo's priests used to translate Pythia's mutterings into equivocal verses, a good idea - or an affront to the God who led the Muses?


At any rate, we tried, and enjoyed it too: at the European Cultural Center of Delphi last week, a group of Greek poets (Socrates Kabouropoulos and Vassilis Manoussakis -the Workshop's co-organisers-, Krystalli Glyniadakis, Panayotis Ioannidis, Dimitra Kotoula, Aris Koutougkos, Angelos Parthenis, Kallia Papadaki, and Thanassis Polyzoidis) and translator Elena Stagkouraki, translated into Greek, poems by anglophone poets Moira Egan, Elaine Feinstein, Adrianne Kalfopoulou and Fiona Sampsonand were translated by them, as well as by translator Richard Pierce. Three days of hard work - and no kidding: at the rate of one poem per two hours, I felt ravenous at 14:00, despite a hearty breakfast at 9:00. (Blessed be "Bacchus"' divine cooking!) Then we revised in the afternoon (my swimming things remained unused, in the trunk of the car), before each evening's reading to the fading sound of the cicadas, and the waning evening light.

And on the fourth day, the fruit of our toil was presented -together with Greek translations of poems by Michael Symmons Roberts, who could not make it to Delphi, as well as work by other Greek poets, translated on previous years- in the packed garden of the always welcoming Athens Center, in collaboration with the British Council.



It was strange, and incredibly rewarding, to experience relationships growing through the traffic of shared words and working side by side; one can't help but wish for more.


[photo: p.i., 2006]

2.2.12

words [do it]















i am curating a series of monthly poetry readings [in greek], that began in december 2011 in "parapera" multi-space, and will continue at the "104" centre for literature and the arts

"words [do it]" mean to let the poets themselves speak their words, those of poets they've translated, and of poets they love
at the first evening, last december, 9 poets read poems they love and that give them strength
on 22 february 2012, poets katerina anghelaki-rooke and danai sioziou will read their own poems, poems they've translated, as well as poems they love, and they'll talk about their relationship to words

1.11.11

not the 3rd athens biennale




























the 3rd athens biennale, 'monodrome', was for me clearly the most interesting so far - also the most curatorially coherent. the choice of main venue -the now disused 'diplareios' school [that used to train students in various crafts] located in the middle of one of the most problematic parts of athens' centre- was both inspired and defining


there was a constant and incredibly fruitful dialogue between the works of art and the building itself, its history -as we know it, as it appears graffittied on its walls, or exhibited in its archives-, the buildings around it, and the views from its windows as one ascended its floors


i therefore chose to concentrate on the building, its surroundings, and the views one sees as one walks along its various rooms

14.10.11

the new economy



















managing one's home: that's what "economy" meant in the first place; money came later - and is the least of it

15.3.11

'les mains d' hypnos' @ "icono-poeisis"












a first draft / extract from les mains d' hypnos [hypnos' hands; where "hypnos" in greek is both "sleep" and the mythical brother of death] -two handbound 'noteboks' of photographs of hands facing poetry by rene char [his 1946 book, feuillets d' hypnos [hypnos' leaves]]- with which i'm taking part in the group exhibition "icono-poeisis" [m.cacoyannis foundation, athens, 11-26 march 2011]

22.2.11

non è mai troppo tardi
























today's photograph on troppotardi [che poi non è mai]


[p.i., ii.2011]

18.1.11

in land





















this spectator of patrice chereau's 'faces and bodies' has been sighted again in 'land'

[photo: p.i., paris, i.2011]

1.1.11

23 lights for 2011



















The “Pedion tou Areos” [Mars’ Fields] Park of Athens –one of the two largest in the city– has been during the past several years, and still is, under re-landscaping. However, parts of it have been gradually opening to the public since last September. And on Christmas eve, the low headlights on the street side of Leoforos Alexandras were on for the first time. 

This New Year’s eve, having spent a lovely early evening drinking tea with a seldom –until now, at least– seen friend, I returned home. Very peaceful, I decided to stay in. Washed the dishes, made only a single phone call, read the year’s –and decade’s– rather somber review in the paper. I was toying with the idea of going to bed early – but then thought I should go out and realize the idea I had on Christmas eve.

I photographed –with no pretensions to ‘art’– each single headlight on the street side, using identical conditions: the lower part of the frame rests on the top of the marble ledge; each headlight is placed in the middle of the bottom edge.

All photographs were taken by me standing on the pavement lane for the blind.

The Park’s re-landscaping has been a long time coming, unfortunately. Fortunately, its principal architect, Alexandros Tombazis, is a respected figure – and received the highest number of votes amongst candidates with the party that won the recent municipal elections. Those results were a great relief, and many hopes hang on them.

The headlights end at the site of Athena’s statue, erected in 1952 to honour British, Australian and New Zealand soldiers who were killed on Greek soil during WWII. It now looks over a –perhaps regrettably rather too geometrical, but certainly mythologically appropriate– olive grove. The skaters, who used to love the marble pavement in front of it, will have, I hear, their specially designed area.

The lights are on. There’s work to be done.

13.12.10

365 friends



Cold light
flush with the dark


Five fell
Three stand



[Written to accompany this photograph by Efi Panagoula on the web calendar '365 friends', for 15 March 2010]

24.7.10

a welcome to anne carson


[a piece in greek, including translations of three poems by anne carson: "viii. click" and "xxi. memory burn" from autobiography of red, and "ode to sleep" from decreation - a small welcome, as she arrives in greece next week, invited by the 1st tinos international literary festival]

[photo: p.i., tinos, 2001]