Vignelli Vignette

This scene in Design is One grabbed my attention simply because the artefact was handled by its designer as he told the story of its reception. Cup overflow was discussed as habit versus design flaw. Searching for more I came across this clip & transcript at The Dinner Party and voilà my cup runneth over…

Brendan Francis Newnam: So there’s a scene in the film, it’s a scene from your life, where you were designing plateware for Heller. You created this clever, minimal, plastic plateware that can stack and do things. There’s a mug for hot coffee with a handle that you designed, and it’s hard to describe this on the radio, but essentially, the handle was such that it acted like a gutter if you filled the coffee mug up too high.

Massimo Vignelli: Yes, for putting your finger.

Brendan Francis Newnam: Yeah, it’s for putting your thumb, you can put it in this ridge, but if you filled up the cup too high, coffee would spill out of the ridge.

You, being from European background, knew this was a demitasse cup, and this cup was not meant to be ever filled to the top, yet Americans fill up a cuppa joe, and they were spilling it.

It turned out to be fine – you know, it’s in the permanent collection of the Museum of Modern Art – but I’m wondering: how do you know when you’re ahead of your time versus just being wrong?

Massimo Vignelli: I wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t wrong.

Brendan Francis Newnam: But people weren’t able to drink their coffee in America for a while.

Massimo Vignelli: This is good. They do it once, then they learn, which at the end turns into an advantage. It’s very rude to fill up the cup all the way to the top, you know, and so they learn how to be civilized by filling it up less.

You’re on the radio, you don’t make noises. Why don’t you make bad noises on the radio? Because it’s uncivilized.

Brendan Francis Newnam: So a poor design decision is the equivalent of making rude noises?

Massimo Vignelli: Exactly. Even if making a bad noise, you could claim that it’s part of your freedom. It’s not part of your freedom, it’s part of you being impolite or uncivilized!

The same thing is there. I mean, visual things have the same relationship to sound or other things, gesture, body language… everything has a meaning. You see, this is the point. This is what design is all about. It’s decodifying the meaning of things.

Flow. Flaw. Fart.

And so for day 1502
23.01.2011

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Spam Lit

I rarely if ever read spam. The name of the sender (“Dia”) on this one caught my attention. It reads like a romance. The hook with this one is that the sucker is drawn in not only by the promise of getting rich but also of getting the girl.

Dearest

Nice to meet you. My name is Diane Laws from France. l am 29 years old. l really need your assistance. My husband dead two years ago and the family members wants to kill me and my children and seat on the inheritance he left for us with bank here in France, l am now in a hiding place with my kids and the documents of inheritance is with us. Please help us to have this fund transferred to your country and we will fly to join you.

Attached is my picture.

l will be waiting for your reply

Diane Laws.

Spam love now sits in the trash. Puzzled by what “seat on an inheritance” might mean…

And so for day 1501
22.01.2011

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Womb Work

Gervase Markham in The Well-Kept Kitchen (excerpts of The English Housewife published by Penguin) on the distillations of waters and their virtues notes

Water of radish drunk twice a day, at each time an ounce, or an ounce and a half, doth multiply and provoke lust, and also it provoketh the terms in women.

Maggie Nelson in “The Canal Diaries” in Something Bright, Then Holes

carnival. Pink prints
on white tissue

announce another month’s
passing, inconsolable.

“Inconsolable” seems incongruous. Not so when we restore the context set up by the previous lines. This is about a lament about the passage of time.

I differ. Go to sleep
in anger and heat

and wake again
to the pour
of rain, streets

emptied of their
carnival. Pink prints
on white tissue

announce another month’s
passing, inconsolable.

Later in the poem there appears the sanitary napkin named by brand and described by shape: “the hourglass of a Maxi.” And further on we find in a litany of persons to envy. We encounter envy for those “happy & fat with child” which is linked in my reading to the envy of “those / whose bodies beget / an absolute forgetfulness.” Sets the inconsolable in a different light. Not so much about a recognition of mortality as a keening over what is spent and will not bear fruit. One remembers that Lent follows Mardi Gras and its Carnival. But this is not the land of the Big C Catholics. The consolation is in and of the poem.

And so for day 1500
21.01.2011

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Compression Expression

The glue in the perfect binding of my copy of James Schuyler The Morning of the Poem (1980) has dried up and the cover (with its lovely drawing by Anne Dunn) has become detached. I am waiting for the sections to fall further apart. Meanwhile I went to the bookshelf and retrieved a copy of the Selected Poems (1988) which contains some but not all the poems from 1980 as in the nature of the selected.

I found in that copy of the selected pulled lately from the bookshelf an index card with a compression of “Salute” from Freely Espousing (1969).

Past is past || one
remembers one meant
to do never did

This compacted set is from

Past is past, and if one
remembers what one meant
to do and never did, is
not to have thought to do
enough?

It seems that the compression answers the question by not enough.

If you would like to practice erasures and see some 4,000 plus results, Wave Books offers source texts and a handy interface http://erasures.wavepoetry.com/poems.php where you can toggle between erasures and source text. Worth noting the results retain spacing — the erasure reads as white space unlike the compressions.

And so for day 1499
20.01.2011

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Biblio Trivia

Trivial Pursuit was invented in Canada (Glenn Close mentions the cast of The Big Chill enjoying the game she brought from Canada – it not being available in the U.S.A. at the time of the filming).

There’s a scene in Day for Night that merits the trivia buff’s attention. The character played by François Truffaut is on the phone and is unravelling a parcel of books which the camera keeps a tight focus as the pile grows.

Pour Bunuel
Carl Theodor Dreyer’s Jesus
Lubitsch (Anthologie du Cinéma 23)
Ingmar Bergman (Premier Plan)
The Films of Jean-Luc Godard (Movie Paperbacks Studio Vista)
Hitchcock’s Films by Robin Wood
Roberto Rossellini
Howard Hawks by Jean A. Gili
Bresson by Jean Sémolué
Revue du Cinema

I am unable to identify the issue Revue du Cinema – the cover reproduces a still from a movie unknown to me. Likewise the Rossellini book presents a cover without author name.

And so for day 1498
19.01.2011

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After Party Glow

Tove Jansson
Moominvalley in November
Translated by Kingsley Hart

After the others had left, Fillyjonk remained standing in the middle of the floor, lost in thought. Everything was upside down, the streamers had been trodden on, the chairs overturned and the lanterns had dripped candlewax over everything. She picked up a Welsh rarebit off the floor, bit a piece off distractedly and threw the rest in the rubbish bucket. A successful party, she said to herself.

After this scene, Fillyjonk makes a recovery. She resumes her core behaviour of cleaning. She earlier in the novel avoids a fall off a roof while cleaning windows. She develops a phobia. However, the party aftermath marks a return to her habits. A restoration of sorts.

This passage struck me because a while ago I myself mused about cleanup as part of the celebration…

WHY WE TEND TO MARK OCCASIONS WITH MEALS

if celebrations incorporate the consumption of remains
if doing the dishes is part of the ritual
then dance into the magic

the logic is simple

9/7/92

Valorizing housework can be politically informed and Jansson provides a scene (after the party) where the cast of characters regardless of gender get on with the cleaning. She also furnishes an illustration of the group in full swing.

And so for day 1497
18.01.2011

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Desperate Economy: Design Survival Desire

William Mills The Meaning of Coyotes “Oklahoma, As You Break to Beauty” not distinguishing the dancer and the dance but widening the circle of perception to perfect the embrace of pointer and pointed. These are the last two stanzas.

There on the snowy plain
Our pointer, stiffened to the world,
Sculpted by desire,
Becomes the geometry of desperate economy.

There with the world’s energy arcing
Between pointer and pointed,
I watch the birds break to beauty.
The design of survival is desire.

It seems as if geometry is positioned against design. The punctuation and the repetition of desire (in both bird and dog) bring into relief the final line and sentence. It seems pronounced upon the whole scene including in its compass the observation of the poetic voice upon the arcing energy. Desire becomes immensely complicated.

And so for day 1496
17.01.2011

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Escape Dreaming

If you have ever bought a lottery ticket, if you have ever contemplated buying a lottery ticket, consider that you are being

taxed to dream

Which you used to claim helped fund worthwhile arts and recreation activities (building and maintaining hockey rinks) and now you justify (rationalize) as a mental health measure in the face of wage labour (made bearable by by-passing the daily dejection by basking in some future hope) and therefore worth the cost. But then again you consider it could be an opiate.

And so for day 1495
16.01.2011

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Contours of the Errand of the Eye

Susan Howe in the preface to Emily Dickinson: The Gorgeous Nothings asks “Can thought hear itself see?”

From a paper inserted in a copy of the Complete Poems at “Whether my bark went down at sea —”

To close one’s eyes and still feel the flutter of light and the moment of shadow as the beings pass over the earth in a skid and bump show of graceless motion. There comes a time when the expression culled form an Emily Dickinson poem presses upon you with the refinement of a request often disposed of in the ordinary course of affairs without much bother to the means of its execution … “the errand of the eye” or is it an eye. Do need to check the passage in question. It makes a lovely phrase to look up in a database. —> it is errand of the eye.

Susan Howe interview with Thomas Gardner in A Door Ajar.

The hook — the bio of Dickinson Well, first of all there was a biographical connection. My aunt Helen Howe Allen […] When she was bedridden in her last sudden illness — it took a month to kill her — I used to visit her in her apartment […] Richard Sewall’s biography of Emily Dickinson had just been published. Because she didn’t have the physical energy to pore over it, I began to read it to her.
The quotation of the letter — Samuel Ward Look at this pencil line beside this passage from a letter Samuel Ward had written Higginson shortly after the first edition of Poems was published:

She is the quintessence of that element we all have who are of the Puritan descent. … We came to this country to think our own thoughts with nobody to hinder. … We conversed with our own souls till we lost the art of communicating with other people. The typical family grew up strangers to each other, as in this case. It was artfully high, but awfully lonesome. Such prodigies of shyness do not exist elsewhere.
The marginal marking — sign of discipline She must have told me to mark the passage so she could go back and read it to herself when she was better, though we both knew she wasn’t going to get better — I never felt closer to her. It was as if we could only touch each other through reading aloud. This practice of self-discipline was above all a dread of any display of affection. I made the little mark. The wide, un-thing that we couldn’t say was there.

Lost art of conservation reconstructed in the exchange of letters and the inscribing of signs, all told in an interview. An errand by way of ear.

And so for day 1494
15.01.2011

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Cleaning the Unclean

Linda Pastan in the “bargaining” section of The Five Stages of Grief has a short poem with a long title “A Short History of Judaic Thought in the Twentieth Century” which begins with the description of a rabbinical decree:

The rabbis wrote:
although it is forbidden
to touch a dying person,
nevertheless, if the house
catches fire
he must be removed
from the house.

There follows a stanza marking outrage and abhorrence in the face of such instructions. And the speaker prepares the next stanza, providing a step (“aren’t we all | dying?”) towards the thinking of an all-consuming rebuttal in the last stanza:

You smile
your old negotiator’s smile
and ask:
but aren’t all our houses
burning?

Smart move to the second person addressee, an invocation to become an accomplice.

The passage reminds me of the lyrics to a Midnight Oil song (“Beds are Burning”)

How can we dance when our earth is turning?
How do we sleep while our beds are burning?

The irony of course is that the beat of the song is infections and leads one to dance. Sleep is another matter. All our cycles are interrupted leading to narcolepsy or to insomnia. Waking and dreaming have evaporated in the burning.

And so for day 1493
14.01.2011

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