Calendar

March 11 to April 10, 2018

<p>Photo: Don Stahl</p>

Poetry Reading

Tonya Foster and Marcella Durand


Dia:Chelsea

Readings in Contemporary Poetry

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13/03/2018 18:30 13/03/2018 23:45 Europe/London Tonya Foster and Marcella Durand Event DetailsTuesday, March 13, 2018, 6:30 pmDia:Chelsea535 West 22nd Street, 5th FloorNew York City  Free for Dia members; $10 general admission; $6 admission for students and seniors Advance ticket purchases recommended. Tickets are also available for purchase at the door, subject to availability.  Tonya Foster is the author of the bilingual chapbook La Grammaire des Os (The Grammar of Bones [éditions joca seria, 2016]), the author of the poetry collection A Swarm of Bees in High Court (Belladonna, 2015), and a coeditor of Third Mind: Creative Writing through Visual Art (Teachers and Writers Collaborative, 2002). Foster is an assistant professor of writing, literature, and creative writing at California College of the Arts in Oakland, and is also a poetry editor at Fence magazine. Her work has been published in Callaloo, Hat, MiPOesias, NYFA Arts Quarterly, Poetry Project Newsletter, and Western Humanities Review, as well as on the Poetry Foundation website and elsewhere. from Etiquette           In collaboration with Alice Notley’s Descent of Alette… 2.Toddler-head tilted, fore-finger pressed againstthe side of his tender jaw, M. poses, looks like he’s thinking,looks like he’s looking at me looking at him; in the photo, looks like he’s looking through the remnantsI’ve made, at each you who holds the photos before your faceno matter how long after you’re looking at the him in this looking out. You see in the looking out and your looking in something of the selfthat you, years later, will come to know, will come to be, and to know and to be areforms of loving, are forms of holding a body and ideas of looking,of bodies in a mind like a prism. To say “Light falls” or “Night falls” is to speak of space, the curvatureswe navigate. Blood-bound, we are at B.’s Las Vegas wedding before you are you, and M. has just learned that a camera assembles and refracts. I point. He points. Each shot a we In-a-would-be-drowned city, what one girl sawof grief was the war-lost father and a baby brother laid out like expansesof water we, even as we stand on far shores, must cross. And the girl and M and you and I are blood-bound.It is sassy to say, “I see”; sassier to say, “I see you”;sassiest to say, “I see you looking at me,” to call outwhat we are looking for. 4.For a time, grief politely organized the water-logged girl politely.In a family photo, she sits center, hands folded in her lap. I hear that shewas for a long time largely quiet, holding her grief-strung tongue the way a proper lady is meant to. A woman watches her p’s and cues“woman” through the delicate clearing of her bangs or the smoothing of her skirt,value “biologically determined,” “socially performed.” In some corners, to ask “What are you looking at?” is another way of saying“What do you want?” Is another way of saying, “Keep that shit to yourself.”Is another way of saying, “I’m not available for the viewing.”  5.And a wake is another kind of viewing, a view of the surface of darknessoverfocused and announced, before underground.But laid out, he is still a young man. Laid out, he is always but a boy.  And you and M and the girl-come woman and I and they are blood-bound,are, of course, an iteration of we that wills out.“Endlessly endless” will… Marcella Durand’s most recent books are Rays of the Shadow (Tent Editions, 2017) and Le Jardin de M. (The Garden of M. [éditions joca seria, 2016]), with French translations by Olivier Brossard. Other books include: a collaboration with Tina Darragh, Deep eco pré (Little Red Leaves, 2009); AREA (Belladonna, 2008); and Traffic & Weather (Futurepoem, 2008), written during a residency at the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council. She lives in New York, where she is working on a long piece for two voices titled Mirror Lines and completing her translation of Michèle Métail’s book-length poem Les horizons du sol (The Horizons of the Soil, 1999). from Rays of the Shadow There are two words: leaf and reflection. We could allparlay via these words and grow conversation.Lights find their end in waves as ocean flowers toland under rain. Amorphous water, when will youtake shape and line? Like life in a like square. Withinit is the already seen and said. Reflect sayswater and leaf says light. Ardent over the land.     Dia:Chelsea FALSE DD/MM/YYYY Tonya Foster and Marcella Durand
<p>Photo: Don Stahl</p>

Poetry Reading

Steven Seidenberg and Alan Felsenthal


Dia:Chelsea

Readings in Contemporary Poetry

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10/04/2018 18:30 10/04/2018 23:45 Europe/London Steven Seidenberg and Alan Felsenthal Event DetailsTuesday, April 10, 2018, 6:30 pmDia:Chelsea535 West 22nd Street, 5th FloorNew York City  Free for Dia members; $10 general admission; $6 admission for students and seniors Advance ticket purchases recommended. Tickets are also available for purchase at the door, subject to availability.  Steven Seidenberg’s recent works include Situ (Black Sun Lit, 2018), Null Set (Spooky Action Books, 2015), Itch (Raw Art Press, 2014), and numerous chapbooks of verse and aphorism. He coedits pallaksch. pallaksch. (Instance Press), an occasional journal of experimental poetry, and organizes poetry events at the Lab in San Francisco. Seidenberg’s photo collections include Pipevalve: Berlin (Lodima Press, 2017). from Situ But that’s not all. This seat, his seat, has never been another’s, has always only been dispensed to find his occupancy near. To suit his nearing occupation, if not the present circumstance of being thereby occupied, of being set upon by only him, by him alone. This is to say that as he turns his gaze back to his harbor, no matter what corrosive goad provoked him to dethrone, the cardinal intimation that his pulp should find no lading on that ramshackle recliner leaves him hardly an existence—hardly corrigibly extant—a manifold of carrion both drifting past and soon to come, and soon to spoil here… Surely it has happened before, he thinks, he has left his bench before, many times, countless times, which does nothing to prevent him from attempting such a count, an assay that’s near equal to the feint of its achievement, at least when it’s considered from the outside, or…the outside of the outside, nearly the inside, but not quite—not yet—he still knows the difference…knows the difference is all difference, every difference held in state both in and out, in state and kind… Alan Felsenthal runs a small press called the Song Cave. With Ben Estes, he edited A Dark Dreambox of Another Kind: The Poems of Alfred Starr Hamilton (Song Cave, 2013). His writing has appeared in BOMB, Brooklyn Rail, Critical Quarterly, Fence, jubilat, and Harper’s. Lowly, published by Ugly Duckling Presse in 2017, is his first collection of poems. Sailing Bones Suffering I drifted to youSeeing my suffering you sufferedOur conference on calamityOur joints moved against windSustained our growing painUntil protruding bonesFrom our rumpled skin coatsBroke through to exposeTheir staid, stagnant structuresTo a cat we were dual cat castlesA bird perched upon my clavicleTo a friend traveling byWe no longer existedBut our suffering did     Dia:Chelsea FALSE DD/MM/YYYY Steven Seidenberg and Alan Felsenthal