An Ostrich holding in the beak a Horseshoe all proper, charged on the breast with a Mullet for difference

What does Brian Johnston (of Test Match Special and Down Your Way fame) have to do with edgelands and mythogeography?

 

How wide can an edge be...?

Goose has googled the Waterloo p-cabin. No joy. Someone must know what this means. Please advise if you see the bell once it's been installed.

Here is the book balanced by a mulberry tree adopting its own waviness - making the wavy fence on the back cover more so. Here is the book balanced in a window by a net curtain whose waviness reflects the invisible wavy fence - or does it, if you can't see it?

(This second image is by Mister Roy whose very fine photos are here on Flickr and whose blog is here and here and so on.

Cinema, apparently modernist, is an ancient space. Feasting, immersion, darkness, hush, spectacle, dreaming, furtive sex, all these take place in the ritual space of the studio or large auditorium. The cinema is a place of hope, where we experience virtually and are analysed simultaneously, collectively. (Along with electricity substations, cinemas will be radically misunderstood by alien archaeologists, and yet more precisely understood by them than by most of us.)

TPFJ> At Move: Choreographing You at the Hayward, (which is much better than The Independent says) goose talked to some curious young dancing people from Laban Contemporary Dance. They were working on pieces that interested them and came for a chat (perhaps because I was wearing my dirty old man Burberry raincoat which invariably winkles out the polymorphously perverse in a crowd).

We talked about the possibility of them working on pieces that didn't interest them. Then, since they asked about how I was finding my way around the gallery, I suggested that i could follow "undesire lines/paths", choosing always to go towards the installation/object/movement/piece that i found least interesting. Then it occurred to me that I could try to pay attention to, and move towards, those things that I hadn't noticed. But, silly me, how could I do that if I hadn't noticed them?  I could develop techniques for noticing that which I hadn't noticed. All of a sudden I felt I had stumbled on another sub-definition of Mythogeography. Then again, I realise that there's probably already a faculty of undesire at a Canadian university and that I am, once again, old felt hat.[[posterous-content:pid___0]]

Visit the Anselm Kiefer exhibition in Louisiana (that's the one north of Copenhagen with the magnificent modern art gallery not the American one) and you'll find the exhibition's called Art and Myth. Aha, you cry, the author has found a tenuous link between Kiefer and Mythogeography.

But, soft, not so tenuous. As Kevin Hart says in his review of Myth, Mourning and Memory (jointly created by Kiefer and Paul Celan)

“When Kiefer looks at one of his particular objects - an attic, a field, a winter landscape, railway tracks, a book - he sees all its layers, the mythical as well as the historical, the distant past as well as the years leading up to the Third Reich”.

I think that’s rather what Crabman is on about (though he's not especially Third Reich-oriented).

Furthermore, "Kiefer can be seen to enter history at a particular point, and indeed much of the art that he practices turns on choosing the right angle of entry and, once behind history, making his way along its dark side to find what best to expose".

If you've ever followed Crabman about Exeter or Plymouth or A La Ronde or wherever, I think you'd recognise something of this approach. Incidentally, have you noticed how dogs being obviously submissive come at you sideways, crabwise, to avoid confronting and yet get close? It's an early form of cloaking, I think.

Anyway, there's more, in the exhibition notes I read:

"History is not identical to the past. It is not just the past, but all of time, the great unified mechanism, that Kiefer is interested in, and in a certain sense is trying to avoid. In this way the landscapes are primal images: enduring scenes that can encompass both slow time and the moment as it arrives, something universal and something private, history's aggregate of movements, efforts... and rents in this fabric of the present with bullet holes and something leaking out.

...throughout most of the 20th century the artistic avant-garde has been preoccupied with the present and the city and what is to come - not the landscape and history and all that clinging past that was experienced as difficult material and reactionary subject matter."

Now I think that's Crabworthy. Isn't mythogeography precisely about something leaking out, Crab?

 

 

 

 

 

Are you as excited by this as we are? This is practice research in action.

Googlebing Poul Huit (or Povl Hvit or Paul Hewitt) at Søborg and you won't find nuffink.Yet, though he only lived until he was nine, he managed to usurp Knud Porse's ghostly mushroom tables, bang on a couple of sinister Xs and a pair of slugs rampant and get himself a pew in the church.

Lo:

 

 

Remember Knud Porse? These are the arms of Jacob Nielsen, who was found guilty of murdering Eric V of Denmark. Eric's son Eric VI (known as Eric Menved) ruled the country during the ensuing "Age of Decay", which one can imagine being swept away by Eric VII (known as Eric the Dental Hygienist).

 

Back to Jacob. Those arms don't look so evil. They could have been drawn by Rolf Hairisz.

The Gander has previously shown himself to be no stranger to the proferred red carpet. Somehow for the goose family it is more forbidding. As if some dread happening might overcome us if we accepted its invitation.

 

And yet the baby has no such shame.