jim leftwich on mg’s “glitchasemic2” (in diaphanous press, fall 2017)

glitchasemic 2
Marco Giovenale
glitched asemic writing 7.17 x 9.98 cm.


“climbing high mountains / tryin to get home” — repeated four times, in Blind ​Willie McTell’s voice, as my first thought when looking at this glitchasemic (later in the same song McTell sings “I am bearin’ the names of many, tryin to get home”)​.​
i have to force myself to think of Bill Beamer’s “​​dritings”
and of Marco’s “​​drawritings”​.​
both of these configurations seem foced in the extreme,
radically constructed, so much so that i would prefer something
that didn’t even attempt a seamless hybrid​,​
maybe “writrawings”​.​
i know exactly where i am here, and it is in the midst of a swarming
excess of meanings, as far from the experience of something “having
no semantic content” as i could possibly be.
the late re-definition of the term “asemic” to mean “having no specific
semantic content” doesn’t solve this problem, it merely redefines the
prefix “a-” as synonymous with “poly-“.​ that simply doesn’t work.​
McTell’s voice in my mind makes me think of Ginsberg/Trungpa’s axiom
“first thought, best thought”. “was it even my thought?” is what i am thinking now?
i don’t think so.
it wasn’t even my second mind, to offer a nod to Howlin Wolf, it was
a spontaneous association while looking at Marco’s tiered glitchasemic.
the image is beautiful, stratified and slowly receding, blips and
scratches of the once-written, now a scree and a talus of broken
I am bearin’ the names of many, tryin to get home.
​it has been suggested by some that the​ asemic is a return to or a glimpse of the pre-written, but i don’t experience it that way and i find it disingenuous to attempt to persuade myself that the asemic is the pre-written whether i experience it that way or not.
i experience it, always, as a failed attempt at achieving the post-written. it is not driven by nostalgia or regret, it is driven by anxiety and aspiration. it is a writing against itself, not a writing prior to itself. as such, it exists precisely as a variety of writing, and the mind responds to it by reading, i.e., by giving off meanings like a fire gives off smoke.

i have been working with and against the idea of asemic writing for 20 years now, using the term asemic writing for all of those years. in January of 1998 i ​said in an email to Tim Gaze that ​”the asemic text would seem to be an ideal, an impossibility, but​ ​possibly worth pursuing for just that reason.​” ​ that’s what makes the idea of asemic writing interesting. it is a specific failure of writing, and will always be so, and we have known that all along, from the outset of our activities. asemic writing is the embrace of a potentially beautiful failure in writing. it will not ever be what it says it is. that’s the only reason to ever want it.

— Jim Leftwich

jim leftwich on mg’s “glitchasemic1” (in diaphanous press, fall 2017)

glitchasemic 1
Marco Giovenale
glitched asemic writing, 7.17 x 9.98 cm.


not quite oceanic (i am only exactly this willing to invent and simultaneously discard the self-consciously awkward neologism “beachic” to situate an author just slightly outside of the desire for a post-initial condition once upon a time labeled the “oceanic”), from across the greenway and the grey street we are given a view of the beach sloping gently down to the sea. where would the mind like to be? perhaps across the grey street, on a second floor balcony, sipping a deliciously warm American beer and gazing out over the lesser forms of tourist below. where is the mind likely to find itself? this is the question always asked of us by the asemic: where exactly are we, as individual humans reading and refusing to read, immersed at any given moment in the mediating mannerisms of our incessantly languaging selves? we are probably on the beach, looking at the ocean and thinking about the balcony. asemia is the empty street just slightly behind us.

–Jim Leftwich

due brani e un testo dopo “bohario – tensioni in campo” (da/a: luca venitucci, mg, carlo bordini)

Il 29 settembre scorso, nel contesto di Bohario – Tensioni in campo (a cura di Giuseppe Garrera e Alberto D’Amico), nel pomeriggio, ho letto una serie di testi da Oggettistica, e Carlo Bordini – poco dopo – una sequenza di poesie inedite, sue; e alcune tradotte dallo spagnolo da lui e da sua moglie Myra Jara. Luca Venitucci, in serata, ha eseguito una serie di brani e improvvisazioni sonore.

Uno dei testi da me letti era dedicato a Carlo. Uno dei brani suonati da Luca era dedicato al romanzo Gustavo, sempre di Carlo. E altri brani di Luca avevano come interlocutrice la mia raccolta di prose e poesie Strettoie, e dunque a questa erano legati.

Per una serie bizzarra di circostanze, mentre leggevo, Carlo ancora doveva arrivare, e quando Luca performava, né Carlo né io eravamo presenti.

Questo piccolo intreccio di riferimenti, legami e dediche, dunque, si svolgeva in assenza dei dedicatari. Che (anche per questo) sono felicemente riconvocati qui, da due brani e un testo:

Improvvisazione per Gustavo

Strettoie 2 (edit)

Luca Venitucci: fisarmonica, voce, trattamenti


Anche se non eravamo tutti presenti contemporaneamente, il filo sonoro ci ha tenuti insieme. E quello testuale, forse:

da Sequenza con mancanze (in Oggettistica)

È come se non se ne accorgesse
Come spinasse un salmone o due proprio più piano
Quanto sole prende su viale Libia
Come fa
Mi vede lui per primo mi chiama
Prendiamoci un caffè sto andando in posta
Da quel giorno
Come del resto sarebbe successo di non avere tempo
O ha tempo o lo trova in qualche modo
È per non accorgersi
E di scrivere
Leva le puntine dal muro, le righe di matita
Desquadra il foglio A3
Viene a trovare le commesse della Standa
Si attarda a distrarsi sui lavori del parcheggio
Sono andati via tutti

4 glitchasemics in “diaphanous”, fall 2017

thanks to Krysia Jopek


table of contents: https://diaphanouspress.com/portfolio/diaphanous-fall-2017/