Artlink's CSA Poet!
Commissioned to write a series of ekphrastic poems for Artlink's Community Supported Art project, Lauren M. Davis produced a small chapbook entitled The Ekphrastic City. The book jacket reads:
THESE EKPHRASTIC POEMS, WRITTEN IN RESPONSE TO AUTHENTIC LOCAL ART, MIRROR WHAT ART DOES FOR HUMANITY. Lauren M. Davis absorbs the unique energy found within works of art produced or displayed in her hometown of Fort Wayne, Indiana.
Her works slow time, allowing readers to observe the many facets of each collection and performance she explores. She interprets the creative world around her by connecting it to the histories and most intimate thoughts of herself or others.
Her poetry asks us to participate in the art within our streets, homes, galleries, universities, coffeehouses, restaurants, and theaters, which are otherwise often ignored. We become present inside her city, our city. In The Ekphrastic City, art is a medicine, a tool, a catalyst. It is the birth of response, awareness, and appreciation.
Read the introduction free here:
Introduction:
None of the artists listed within this book knew I would be writing about their work. Most likely, they didn’t notice me walking through their galleries, admiring their techniques, squinting at their brushstrokes, pining over the execution of their lines; some of them were not even present when I visited their collections. I believe that the best and hardest parts about being an artist are the same thing: that you are usually unaware if your art is even noticed or appreciated.
As we know, so many artists are not even recognized until they are no longer a part of this world. As an artist, you just make things, its natural. And you may display, perform, or direct those things. And often that is enough. You are satisfied because you see what you have made. But other times, you wonder what people think of your work and you find yourself discouraged. Does anyone even notice it? Does anyone discuss it? Will anyone remember it?
I taught a humanities course, in the Spring of 2016, at a local college. The course textbook was titled Humanities Through the Arts. Students visited local galleries, watched a Sci-Fi Western film, interpreted abstract paintings, attended a play, and studied obscure performance art. Sometimes they fought against it. They would say they didn’t “get it,” but mostly, they were open to trying to connect with the several mediums we surveyed. At the end of the semester I told them that my hope for them, now that they have learned how to identify and work toward interpreting art, now that they have heard, many of them for the first time, the vocabulary and jargon of the art world, is that they would just notice the art around them “from this last class day forward.”
Art is constant. We live inside of art. Art is our neighbor, our guide, and often our healer. We see art in almost every home, on tabletops, inside old dresser drawers, hanging on walls, we hear it through speakers in almost every public place, we touch it on the pages of books, but often we forget that it is present. We walk past it without even looking. We drown out the music.
For The Ekphrastic City, my intent was to be present and to notice. In particular, I wanted give attention to the generous art that exists in the small city of Fort Wayne. I spent a lot of time in galleries, theaters, studios, and concert halls. Most of the art I participated in I did not write about. But it was important for me to slow down, to take time to absorb the many creations around me. And I believe that is what good art does: it stops the world from spinning, the days from passing, the years from being behind us. This is what the art inside this book did for me. I want the artists to know that. That what they made was contemplated, appreciated, and that it is all beautiful. As you read these poems, I hope you slow down. I hope you are present within the words. I hope you notice.
This chapbook can be purchased through Artlink's gallery. See link for details: http://artsincubatorfw.com/programs/
