The history of poetry in our time has also been a history of those who provide
conduits & vehicles, containers & wrappers, for the physical
presentation of poetry: publishers, typographers, printers, designers, or those
artists-as-such who are often the collaborators in making poetry a visible,
even a visual, art. For this the book has remained the principal vehicle
– the material book, like the material poem, still active in the age of virtuality. In the true history of American poetry,
which I have long threatened to write & never will, Granary Books, as a
press & resource, is exemplary of how poets & related artists in the
post-World War Two era were able to establish shadow institutions that operated,
nearly successfully, outside the frame of any & all self-proclaimed poetic
mainstreams.
There
is by now a history of poet’s books as there is of artist’s books, & the
convergence of these two interests is more the norm than the exception.
From Blake’s illuminations through the craftsman-artists of the later
nineteenth century & the livre d’art
collaborations of high modernism, the book emerged as both a physical object
& itself a work-of-art conceived anew or re-created through the art of
those who make it. Still closer to the present moment, poets &
artists with new & often democratized technologies at their disposal, have
been papering the American landscape with books & paper works at an
unprecedented rate. That development began to pick up speed by the middle
1950s & was central to movements of that time with generalized names like
the New American Poetry as one pole or pivot & Fluxus
as another. Their accomplishments have been chronicled elsewhere, &
there are still others outside those frames to further “thicken the plot” – as
John Cage said in another context.
If Steve Clay & Granary Books were not the first participants in this
history, they have played a major role in it, both as makers of books & as
chroniclers of poets’ & artists’ books – their own & others’. For
Clay the beginnings of the work go back to 1986 – not a book but a card-sized
poem by Jonathan Williams, wrapped in a printed envelope inside a second
printed envelope. But there is already a clear sense of predecessors – Williams’
Jargon Society publications, Cid Corman’s Origin, Dick Higgins’ Fluxus-connected Something Else Press, Simon Cutts’s Coracle Press in
London, & Charles Alexander’s Chax Press, with which an early collaboration was also
possible. The start was slow – an occasional book but mostly cards &
broadsides – until the 1991 publication of Nods,
Barbara Fahrner’s drawings which illuminate texts
derived, using chance operations, from John Cage’s published writings.
From that point on, something like 120 publications followed – mostly books –
that brought together a diverse range of poets, artists, printers &
craftsmen: David Antin, Susan Bee, Charles Bernstein,
bill bissett, Paul Celan,
Emilie Clark, Robert Creeley, Tennessee Dixon, Toni
Dove, Henrik Drescher,
Johanna Drucker, Timothy C. Ely, Ed Epping, Barbara Fahrner, Philip
Gallo, Max Gimblett, Mimi Gross, Julie Harrison, Lyn Hejinian, Yvonne Jacquette,
Daniel Kelm, Alison Knowles, Ligorano/Reese,
Emily McVarish, Maureen Owen, Ron Padgett, Archie
Rand, George Schneeman, Carolee
Schneemann, Buzz Spector,
Anne Waldman, Lewis Warsh, Trevor Winkfield,
John Yau, & myself, among others.
What’s on view in this exhibition is a display of works by many of these
artists, working alone or, typically, in collaboration. The books as such
come in different shapes & sizes, & the production methods involved
vary as well – from standard letterpress & offset to incredibly fine
printing & graphics, plus a degree of handwork in the more limited
editions. The flood of work links both to what had come before
& what continued to be conceived & realized contemporaneously.
This linkage shows up as well in a series of bigger books – anthologies &
histories – that made Granary the principal purveyor – both artistic &
critical – of what was a virtual renaissance of American poetry & book
making. Of such works two by Johanna Drucker
set the standard for a historicizing of this movement in the arts: The Century of Artists’ Books and Figuring the Word: Essays on Books, Writing
and Visual Poetics. These were followed by Renée & Judd Hubert’s The Cutting Edge of Reading: Artists’ Books
& my own attempts by way of anthology, The
Book, Spiritual Instrument and A Book
of the Book, the latter in collaboration with Steve Clay. And Granary
& Clay, at his most ambitious, began to produce large collections of works
by individuals or groups of artists – The
Angel Hair Anthology of the pivotal magazine of that name, or Jackson Mac
Low’s Doings: Assorted Performance Pieces
1955–2002, or A Secret Location on
the Lower East Side as a heavily illustrated history & compendium,
circa 1950-1980, of underground literary activity in New York & elsewhere,
among other examples.
The Granary project has been not only useful but essential, an
incomparable gathering when laid end to end, as it is here. Those who
have collaborated with Steve Clay know him as a facilitator for the work of
others, with a sense of detail & finish that allows those works to find the
form & texture needed for their realization. In this pursuit, whether
it’s the bigger books or the small works where craft & artistry are at the
forefront, the Granary collaborations aren’t limited to the poets & artists
whose names appear on covers & title pages, but Clay calls also on the
skills of typographers, printers, designers, & binders – an ensemble that
he brings together with the skills of a consummate director or
producer. The process is therefore active & marked by an
interdependence & coordination that has, for those of us participating, the
feel of a nearly communal project – a work, even a working through, in
common. The results – speaking here as a poet & writer – go beyond
& above what lackluster print can do by itself, so that each work is a new
work & every part illuminates or transforms every other.
The current exhibition, then, is a celebration of Granary as a collective
entity & a tribute beyond that to Steve Clay as a publisher who raises
publishing to an art in itself. I am reminded here of David Antin’s definition of an artist as “someone who does his
best,” & yet it seems to me that Steve Clay & company, like David, do
something even more. I don’t know what that does to David’s definition
but maybe points to something we less often get to, something that may be “more
than art.”
Jerome
Rothenberg
Encinitas, California
August 2005
Catalog
essay for Too Much Bliss: Twenty Years of Granary Books.
Smith
College Museum
of Art. November 12, 2005 - February 19, 2006.
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