ephemeropteræ 2013/01 – Wanda Coleman, Ásdís Sif Gunnarsdóttir
As the premiering series in 2012, ephemeropteræ 2013 takes place at the ephemeropteræ pavilion, a minimalistic open-air stage designed by architect David Adjaye and embedded in the midst of the beautiful Augarten park. On Friday evenings, from June 14 to September 20, the atmospheric location set within a lush corner of Augarten turns into a site of hospitality and artistic expression. For the opening evening, TBA21 proudly presents Wanda Coleman and Ásdís Sif Gunnars
Wanda Coleman (*1946, USA, lives and works in Los Angeles), a seminal figure of post-60s literary L.A., has shared the stage with cultural icons like Timothy Leary, Alice Coltrane, Allen Ginsberg, and Los Lobos. An Emmy-winning scriptwriter, she has twice been a finalist for poet laureate of California (2005, 2012), and was awarded the Shelley Memorial Prize by the Poetry Society of America in May 2012 and recently the 2013 Jean Burden Poet. Coleman is a pioneer in connecting poetry and the record-industry (releasing her poems on vinyl since 1970s). Coleman reads in “African-American jazz style” from BATHWATER WINE, MERCUROCHROME, OSTINATO VAMPS, and THE WORLD FALLS AWAY, her latest books of poetry. “I once studied to be a pianist or a concert violinist. During a childhood illness I sustained motor damage and was forced to give up being a musician. I taught myself how to put my music into my language. I ‘play’ my books the way a musician plays his or her instrument.”
6
exhausted after working the nightshift
he was so dead on his feet he couldn't
hear 'em ramming in his door, so they broke into
the sepia-toned man's apartment by mistake
(it was supposed to be the one downstairs).
officers swarmed his bed as he opened his eyes,
officers were on him like maggots on foul meat.
nevertheless he managed to free himself long
enough to run into the bathroom where
he was ultimately subdued without ever knowing why
the coroner reported this
as death due to heart attack
brought on by advanced arteriosclerosis
in a twenty-eight-year-old black male
6
exhausted after working the nightshift
he was so dead on his feet he couldn't
hear 'em ramming in his door, so they broke into
the sepia-toned man's apartment by mistake
(it was supposed to be the one downstairs).
officers swarmed his bed as he opened his eyes,
officers were on him like maggots on foul meat.
nevertheless he managed to free himself long
enough to run into the bathroom where
he was ultimately subdued without ever knowing why
the coroner reported this
as death due to heart attack
brought on by advanced arteriosclerosis
in a twenty-eight-year-old black male
Ásdís Sif Gunnarsdóttir (*1976, USA, lives and works in Reykjavík) is known for her performances that take place in unconventional places and her video installations consisting of three dimensionality and visual psychedelic poetry. Treating videos as songs, Gunnarsdóttir vj´s a combination of her visuals and reads poetry over them. Her work can vary from large video installations and performances to spoken word poetry and photography. She has conceived of a new work called The Blue Mountain for ephemeropteræ where she transports herself to Los Angeles, only to fall silent “lost in a space with no beginning and no end.”
Blue Mountain
And I’m in the desert, sleeping under the stars
having a lucid dream that predicts my future
I close my eyes and I see the blue mountain
Blue mountain
the structure of forms
Improvised magic
I close my eyes
and I can see myself
in Los Angeles
on a sunny day looking at my shadow
by the swimming pool
having a glass of vine and planning the night once again in this mysterious city
I’ve become a teenager again
I just feel the moment and nothing else
I close my eyes and I’ve arrived to the end of the world
nothing left to say, lost in a space with no beginning nor an end
I’ve become a teenager
I just feel the moment and nothing else
Blue Mountain
And I’m in the desert, sleeping under the stars
having a lucid dream that predicts my future
I close my eyes and I see the blue mountain
Blue mountain
the structure of forms
Improvised magic
I close my eyes
and I can see myself
in Los Angeles
on a sunny day looking at my shadow
by the swimming pool
having a glass of vine and planning the night once again in this mysterious city
I’ve become a teenager again
I just feel the moment and nothing else
I close my eyes and I’ve arrived to the end of the world
nothing left to say, lost in a space with no beginning nor an end
I’ve become a teenager
I just feel the moment and nothing else