1) In your recent book, The Darkness of the Present (University of Alabama Press. 2012), the development of your ‘parapoetics’ engages with a noise poetic. You say that “it is not music that poetry hears…but rather sound” (185). Would you like to elaborate on that? how does the ‘sound’ ‘that poetry hears’ take precedence over the ‘music’? does the parapoetic sound that “transform[s] a total unity into multiplicity” effectively challenge the ‘frame’?
- McC: I’ve long subscribed to R. Murray Schafer’s dictum that “noise” is merely “unwanted sound,” (la part maudite in the acoustic regime to steal a phrase from Georges Bataille) and the unwanted frequently results from ideological and cultural-racial bias. However, in the passage you cite I address “sound” not “noise.” The chapter you draw from is “The Instrumental Nightingale,” a historical study of a shift in sensibility in the eighteenth-century poets Thomas Gray and William Collins, from a musical paradigm to one found in insect sound, a shift, you might say, from pleasing harmonics to vibratory noise. I wouldn’t state that I’m proposing a “noise poetic” but the historic shift I note is traced into the Dada sound poem as a revolt, not only against meaning, but against music. Perhaps the shift from musical to entomological sound (specifically buzzing) connects with our current shift from analogue to digital but that’s a claim too large to introduce let alone defend here. It was Murray Schafer, the Canadian composer and soundscape theorist, who first linked insect sound to industrial noise. Noise, of course, enters the Modernist canon with the Futurist Luigi Russollo’s “Art of Noise,” that attempt to broaden the acoustic canon to include contemporary industrial “sound,” or nature’s “unnatural noise.” The difference between the cultural reception of natural noise (e.g. thunder) and man-made noise (e.g. the factory siren) still awaits detailed investigation.
To your other question: “does the parapoetic sound that ‘transform[s] a total unity into multiplicity’ effectively challenge the ‘frame’”? I would answer unquestionably yes. However, we need to specify what precisely is the frame and here the frame is aesthetic, specifically a theory of aesthetics which (without going into its multiple enumerations and instantiations) can be traced back to the Aristotelian concept of beauty as the unity between parts. For Aristotle parts exist not as independent entities but as sub-phenomena within the composite phenomenon we call the “whole.” This notion of “part” I think connects to my earlier claim about musical pleasure which involves precisely this accordance to Aristotle’s concept of beauty.
2) i like the term ‘event fabric’ (43) that you use to describe what jackson mac low does with language in Words ‘n Ends from Ez. it sounds like he offers sheet music for an improvised jazz solo. is that an accurate analogy?
S McC: I’ve had the pleasure of not only reading Mac Low but performing with him. What struck me in the course of the latter (on several occasions) was the curious juxtaposition of theoretical anarchy and freedom, with imposed constraint; it’s a double imperative to introduce both stochastic and systematic elements in performance. This doublet, of course, governed Mac Low’s method of composition by systematic chance, facturing texts via a combination of rule and randomness and in a manner not unlike the effects of constraints in any number of Oulipian works. That relation of order and randomness in itself connects onto thermodynamics and Chaos theory as outlined by James Gleick and Prigogine and Stenghers. Mac Low himself referred to his linguistic units as events. This “event” of words I’ll explain in my response to your next question.
3) is it fair to say the ‘event fabric’ is like a landing pad in a conceptual tesseract? territorializing from your macro/micro ‘cyber-space’ to micro/macro ‘virtual reality’ and vice versa?
- McC: I think of it relating more—or equally—to axonometric projection, i.e. a projection by which an object is presented in a skewed direction; such projection also eliminates scale within distance. so that distant and near appear the same. (Put two people of identical height in a room with a sloping floor and the person standing closer to the apex of the diagonal will appear much larger than the person standing at the base.) Axonometry was central to the architectural projects of De Stjil and Bauhaus and, if we treat grammar as an axis that organizes linguistic parts, then it’s application to poetics seems feasible. It’s nascent, for instance, in Gertrude Stein’s attempts to eliminate linguistic hierarchization (the kind that favours nouns and adjectives over articles). Her inspiration in part came from the visual arts, specifically, Cezanne’s particular method of painting in which each stroke was given equal value. Axonometry induces the kind of distortion that isometric projection avoids. MacLow’s seminal friendship with John Cage is well known, as is the fact that it was Mac Low who introduced Cage to systematic chance composition. But if anyone in writing superinduces a cube into a tesseract it’s Gertrude Stein in Tender Buttons.
As to the term “event fabric,” I believe it less a landing-pad than an escape from the conceptual. Horace Walpole in his Historic Doubts advances the opinion that an event is an outline of a truth; event also conjures up its Heideggerian variant of Ereignis, but I take event to be that which evades immediate conceptual grasp, that which resists assimilation into the conceptual regime of things. Stein sensed the need in her method of description to bracket out of operation all moments of memory and recognition, that type of recognition that would allow us to conceptualize a shiny white surface as a “plate.” As a consequence she produced tremendous textual events. In this respect too the event is not unlike Yves Bonnefoy’s recent poetry and poetic that we find in his The Arrière-pays. For him, concepts are impediments to the direct, unmediated perceptions that register a present. “Event” in this sense is also central to my outlines of a poetics of infancy that I start to develop in The Darkness of the Present: infancy understood as that which evades signification and hence conceptualization. The link between conceptualization and reference lies at the bases of all regimes of representation and Mac Low’s poetry contains a vast component of non-representational poetry.
4) can you hypothesize on what would come from an extensive development of a noise poetic?
- McC: It depends on the sense in which “noise” is understood. Is it acoustic noise (unwanted sound) or “noise” in a noise/signal relationship? The two will lead to vastly different poetics. Criticism of Mac Low’s work notoriously avoids textual interpretation and tends to focus on discussing Mac Low’s method of composition (its basis in Buddhism and anarchy for example). In my analysis of Mac Low’s Words ‘n Ends from Ez I follow the lead of Umberto Eco and try to apply Information Theory to aesthetic judgment and interpretation. Charles Elwood Shannon founded Information Theory (IT) in 1948 (the same year as Norbert Weiner published is earth-shattering essay “Cybernetics” and two years before Olson’s “Projective Verse” was published). IT treats messages as organized systems whose governing laws are fixed rules of probability. Language itself is an improbable event that establishes its own chain of probabilities (e.g. that an English word with three sequential consonants will be followed by a vowel. Questions of information become questions of communication whenever the relationship of message to a human receiver is considered. But messages are susceptible to unpredictability and disorder, what IT designates as “noise.” In order to guard against disorder messages are wrapped in a surplus of repetitions called “redundancies.” Linguistically speaking fifty percent of communicated language is redundant to the message being communicated. In this light we can consider Words nd Ends from Ez as an organized system governed by fixed laws of probability in which “redundancy” is virtually zero. The message is no more than the single theme name, whose systematic repetition is the sole but constant redundancy. A “noise poetic” in the acoustic sense would be one in which unpredictability is maximized to a degree in which disorganization might end in organization.
5) in regard to mac low’s Words ‘n Ends from Ez, on page forty four of the The Darkness of the Present, you ask what “hermeneutic strategy is available, or even feasible, when we attempt to negotiate the following sample of patterned textual shards ?” i thought that maybe a double hermeneutic could illustrate the relationship of the text’s interior/exterior relativity as they act like a pair of isomorphic feedback loops through loud speakers. care to riff off that suggestion?
- Mc C. Yes, that’s very well put and it would be interesting in those acoustic terms to compare the strategy with the function of isomorphic feedback in the formation of tropical storms; it might lead to a re-evaluation (or better an up-dating) of Olson’s dictum that a poem should be a “high-energy construct” made out of stable patterns within a general context of disorder. I have a poem “The Baker Transformation” in which Shakespeare’s sonnet 109 is subjected to a pattern of chemical kinetics known as the Belousov-Zhabotinsky reaction. The sonnet is understood to be a chemically excitable system in which its alphabetic characters correspond to molecules and base alphabet functions as the central attractor. The actual written sonnet ”Oh Never say that I was false of heart … etc.” can thus be understood as a chaotic system with a non-equilibrial distribution of molecules: the readable sonnet. The Belousov-Zhabotinski reaction takes the following form. Where a chance concentration of a specific molecule occurs then this grouping acts as a catalyst to the production of more of the same molecules. As a result the sonnet self-organizes into all its separate letters:
OOOOOO
nnnnnnnnn
ccccccc
and so on. You might take this as an example of either cross-disciplinary translation or of a noise poetic. But it’s only noise when judged by a semantic paradigm. Deleuze and Guattari were both influenced by the B-Z reaction.
6) (just curious really): deleuze wanted noise, wittgenstein wanted silence. deleuze once called wittgenstein the assassination of philosophy. how do you consider these two intellects while considering your own work?
- McC.: Both have been important to me, even formative: Wittgenstein earlier in my career as a poet and Deleuze later. I was immediately attracted to the non-discursiveness nature of Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations, especially his grounding of philosophical solutions in scenarios drawn from the everyday. bp Nichol turned a few of them into short plays or scenarios and I, of course, did my poetic response to the PI in Evoba. I also came to Wittgenstein after my reading of Jan Huizinga’s Homo Ludens, a book that argues for the centrality of play and game in human interaction and social stability. So the articulation of that material onto Wittgenstein’s concept of “language games” seemed natural. I was also impressed by Wittgenstein’s use theory of meaning that suggested that philosophy was grounded in pragmatics and the everyday. So it’s somewhat ironical that Deleuze, a continental philosopher hostile to structural linguistics and an ardent proponent of pragmatics should accuse Wittgenstein of the assassination of philosophy. I’m remembering too that interview of Deleuze by Claire Parnet where not only does he accuse Wittgenstein of being an assassin of philosophy, but also conessess to being a philosophical sodomist (he speaks of taking philosophy by the rear). I first encountered Wittgenstein as an undergraduate student at Hull University in England where the Philosophy Department was unrelentingly committed to the belief that Philosophy is neither metaphysics nor ontology, but conceptual analysis and Wittgenstein was extremely appreciated. Deleuze (and Guattari) I discovered in the mid-seventies as a poet living in Toronto through a special issue of Semiotexte devoted to Anti-Oedupus. I met Guattari a couple of times: first in the 1980s at a party in Paris thrown by Julian Blaine where Pierre Joris introduced me to “Felix”. In the 1990 I met Guattari in Quebec City at a Polifonix Festival. He was a good friend with many of the Quebec artists, performers and sound poets of that time who I knew and still know. What impressed me most in Deleuze & Guattari was their insistence on multiplicity and the productive rather than theatrical workings of the unconscious. I’d read lots of Wilhelm Reich and Freud by then (being introduced to Reich’s theory of orgone through bp Nichol) and their ideas seemed fresh and liberating. I took their notion of dynamic ontology (that humans are not beings but becomings) as a fruitful concept in my own poetics that lead to my work The Black Debt and its attempt to develop a writing based on phrase propulsion and the continuous becoming of meaning: a method of composition in which meaning is never settled at but always becoming. I later discovered a similar theory implicit in the philosophy of the Marquis de Sade that I wrote about in “Sade and Modernity.”