skylinegtrhome.com > > Janet Kuypers, poem (part) "In The Air" live 07/17/07 #1
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Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.These are the writing included in the live show:the poem: Paranoiawe sit here at dinner.I try to breathe.My hands rest on my thighs.I must watch to be sure,everything must be right:the silverware, small fork,large fork, plate, knife,large spoon, small spoon.Water glass. Wine glass.I know no one else sees them:the fish, the red fish, inthe curtains along the wall.You have to watch them.My eyes always glance there.They are evil fish. They sitin the curtains, they wait,and then they come out.And the yogurt, the yogurtis the only thing that cansave me from them. throwthe yogurt, take a spoon,use your hands. Anything.And we sat there beforedinner, and he ate hisyogurt with his first spoonbefore I could stop him.How could you do this? Howcan you save yourself now? Will I have to save you again,do you even understandthe danger—the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say NothingI try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."Ex-eh-ba-che."Man who talks loud... say nothing."Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.—the poem: Fighting I Can DoI know these are normal thingsfor me to be going throughI know that I have been raped and beatenI know they've tried to kill meand lucky me, I survivedI think I can surviveeverything they throw at meBut as time wears onlittle pieces of this statue are chipped awayeverybody wants something, right?well, they've been taking from me and taking and taking and takingand my defenses are getting weakerand I don't know how much morefighting I can do—the poem: I Wantyou know what I want?i want a big house with filtered central airand i want a big lawn so i can recreate natureand i want a big fence so i'll know what's mineand i want the evergreens trimmed into neat littleballs, because it has to look neat. plant everythingin a row.and i want to spray chemicals on my lawnto keep the dandelions awayand i want a plastic lobster bibover my fancy dress at the fancy restaurantand don't forget the hundred dollar champagneand i want a big fat car, and i wantsomeone else to drive itand i want the two kids, one boy, one girland i want a nanny to take care of them for mei want to be famousi want everyone to love mei want iti want it all—the prose: Adjusting Your BeliefsWe lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short - Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.—the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's SeenAs a cop, I remember one lady, we found her in her bathtub, she cut her throat. That's odd, for women, normally they take pills, they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she wasdoing, cutting her throat in a full bath.Less messy that way. Autopsy saidshe was full of barbiturates. She wasa nurse, that explained how she knewhow to do it, but then we found outthat she was pregnant, too. And to topit off, her brother was a priest.—the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you. You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words. But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the mostlived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,on the same street as me, buti still emailed her as much as i'd call her,even though i could just walk over to her houseand have an actual conversation with her.And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.—the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoesi heard a story todayabout a little boyone of many who was enslavedby his countryin child laborin this casehe was workingfor a carpet factoryhe managed to escapehe told his storyto the worldhe was a hero at tenbut the people from the factoryheld a grudgeand today i heardthat the little boywas shot and killedon the streethe was twelveand then people complain to mewhen i buy shoesthat are made in chinanow i have to thinkdid somebodyhave to die for thesewill somebody have to diefor these—the prose: Differences in China: children & trainsChildren in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.—the poem: Private Lives 2005sitting on the el traini saw a middle-eastern mansitting across from meholding a large Zip-Loc bagof some sort of food paste,i couldn't tell,it looked like some sort ofcurry-filled food pasteand the man looked unhappy,and after a few minutesi saw him open upthe Zip-Loc bag,throw up into it,then close the bag againso, he was carryinghis vomit with himon the elat least he had a baghe could seal it up with—the prose: Passport To Outer Space And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned. But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.—parts of the poem: In The AirChicago looks grand from the skywith this huge expanse of lakenext to it, like civilization crept upas far as it could but finally had to stop.The power of nature stopping the powerof mankind... Daylight, and the snow on the ground in the winter time looks dirty, too many cars have splashed mud on it as theydrove by. And in the winter the sky always matches the shade of grey of the snow: fitting for the city of the Blues. Maybe the snow is alreadythat color, that perfect shade of grey,when it falls from the sky in this city.When I'm in the air, I like to lookout the window. Clouds look likecotton balls when you're above them,and when you're landing cars look likelittle ants, on a mission, bringing foodback to their hill. And thestreets look like veins, capillaries in somemassive, monstrous body. And thefarmlands look like little squares of colors.I wonder why each plot of land is adifferent color, what's growing therethat makes them different. Or maybe it'sthat some of them are turning shades of redand brown because they are dying.And it always seems on a plane that you're stucksitting next to someone that is eithertoo wide for their seat, or is a businessmanwith his newspaper stretched outand his lap top computer on his littlefold out table. Once, when I was on aflight back from D. C., a flight attendantwalked by, stack of magazines in herhand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,and I stopped her, asking what magazinesshe had. And she replied, "Oh, thesemagazines are for men." This is a truestory. And I asked her again what shehad. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.—the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in linefor the lavatory. There was always a line for a flightthis long, you know, it seemed the washroomswere always on demand on a flight this long. SoI finally got into the washroom, you know, and Ilooked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battleagainst a very healthy digestive system and left the"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to godown into the sewage tank where all the otherwaste from this long trip went to. Can you imagineall the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and Iwent to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed andit still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walkedout into the aisle of the plane again. And there was thislong line of people waiting to use this crampedlittle washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to methat everyone, when they leave the bathroom on thatplane, will think the exact same thing."—and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home ChicagoAnd you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.—For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details.
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Video Name: Janet Kuypers, poem (part) "In The Air" live 07/17/07 #1 Tags: Janet Kuypers poem poetry dreams July 17 2004 performance art show reading video monitor tv chair living big world prose View: 59788 Added by: ccandd96  25 rated. |
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