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SV: [ARTNEWS]
Robert Rauschenberg
Dies at 82

onsdag 14 maj 2008 04.23
Från:
"troylloyd" (pictopop@yahoo.se)
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artnews@pd.org


Tired with all these, for restful death I cry...
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
-Sonnet LXVI

Now that you're 78, do you find yourself brooding on death?

"No. Not at all. I am too old for that. There once was a rich and crazy woman who was sitting nervously at a dinner party of mine next to John Cage. And she was just terrified because she couldn't figure out anything to open a conversation with him. So she said, ''What do you think about death?'' He looked right at her and said, ''I can't wait!'' She didn't have a second thing set up to say. "
"Yoicks"

"I don't ever want to go," Rauschenberg revealed in a previous Harper's interview about the subject of dying. "I don't have a sense of great reality about the next world; my feet are too ugly to wear those golden slippers. But I'm working on my fear of it. And my fear is that something interesting will happen, and I'll miss it."
"Short Circuit"

One of the results of permanent permutation is an entropic equalization of all things, which was precisely Cage’s point. And the reason Rauschenberg’s Combines provoked such scorn at first, while Abstract Expressionism stall reigned supreme, was that he applied this leveling strategy to the act of painting itself. He probably would have had an easier time if he had Just stated in his art that painting was “dead”—a ritual in twentieth-century art that had already been enacted by Duchamp in 1913, Malevich in 1918, Rodchenko in 1921, etc., etc. No, what he declared instead, as early as the “Red Painting” I mentioned at the outset (which is why it could have made just as good an introduction to the show as Minutiae), is that there is no fundamental difference between a collage element and a painted one. In his work, any atom—whether industrially, mechanically, or manually produced—is, as it were, in quotation marks.
"(flashlights and light bulbs)"

"Zodiac Bloom Summer Glut"


Robert RAUSCHENBERG,
born October 22, 1925 at 10:00 AM in Port Arthur (TX) (USA)
Sun in 28°44 Libra, AS in 14°13 Sagitarius,
Moon in 1°12 Capricorn, MC in 26°21 Virgo
Chinese Astrology: Wood Ox
Numerology: Birthpath 22
"Odalisk"


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May 13, 2008 Pop Artist Robert Rauschenberg Dead At 82

Dead or Alive? - Robert RauschenbergUse this page to find out if Robert Rauschenberg is dead or alive. Very user friendly navigation and includes a search function!
"Complete Relaxation"

"Or, to put this all another way: This is an essay about Robert
Rauschenberg if I say so."
- Craig Douglas Dworkin

Age
by Robert Creeley

Most explicit--
the sense of trap
as a narrowing
cone one's got
stuck into and
any movement
forward simply
wedges once more--
but where
or quite when,
even with whom,
since now there is no one
quite with you--Quite? Quiet?
English expression: Quait?
Language of singular
impedance? A dance? An
involuntary gesture to
others not there? What's
wrong here? How
reach out to the
other side all
others live on as
now you see the
two doctors, behind
you, in mind's eye,
probe into your anus,
or ass, or bottom,
behind you, the roto-
rooter-like device
sees all up, concludes
"like a worn-out inner tube,"
"old," prose prolapsed, person's
problems won't do, must
cut into, cut out . . .
The world is a round but
diminishing ball, a spherical
ice cube, a dusty
joke, a fading,
faint echo of its
former self but remembers,
sometimes, its past, sees
friends, places, reflections,
talks to itself in a fond,
judgemental murmur,
alone at last.
I stood so close
to you I could have
reached out and
touched you just
as you turned
over and began to
snore not unattractively,
no, never less than
attractively, my love,
my love--but in this
curiously glowing dark, this
finite emptiness, you, you, you
are crucial, hear the
whimpering back of
the talk, the approaching
fears when I may
cease to be me, all
lost or rather lumped
here in a retrograded,
dislocating, imploding
self, a uselessness
talks, even if finally to no one,
talks and talks.

(From Selected Poems by Robert Creeley. Copyright © 1991 by The Regents of the University of California. All rights reserved. Used w/o permission. Originally published in Windows (New Directions, 1990).

A Graveyard Within: To the Memory of Robert...
by Andrei Voznesensky

You came in through my Peredyelkyno gate
Tilting your head to the left a little-cheek to one shoulder
As if holding a violin that's invisible.
Now the violin has vanished. But I've got to hear it!
Peering myopically, you stepped into Peter the Great's wood hut.
Inside's a notch two meters high chopped by an axe.
To measure your own height, you entered that notch --
The void left behind by the stature of Peter.
How this void, instead of the body it lacks, is ringing!
Under the violent notch stands a new shadow.
In the graveyard the maples have shed their leaves.
And the violin one can't get hold of is moaning.
Deep in the woods, an internal graveyard is itself interred.
Your mother and father-and where are you?...
From the ground someone has pulled all the post-its
And now it's impossible to find the right page.
How's it going, Robert, in your new nowhere?
We all carry our own graveyards within us.
Now what name do you have-whistling
Through the all-encompassing void, a pestle for ennui?
Your former name lies flat on a gravestone.
At last you've booked your way out of our labyrinth.
What's up, shadow--you under the notch in the hut?
I'm bringing you some of Pasternak's rowan berries.
(But they won't help Robert.)

(Translation by Ilya Kutik and Reginald Gibbons. from,The American Poetry Review Nov/Dec 2007 : "On Apophatic Poetics" by Reginald Gibbons.)
...Voznesensky's poem was for Robert Lowell...

The poets who worked with ULAE included Voznessensky, Alberti, Robbe-Grillet, Towle, Guest and Koch. Voznesensky did his own prints and also collaborated on works with Rauschenberg. Seven years after its inception 97 prints from the ULAE workshop were chosen for an inaugural exhibition to mark the opening of the MOMA's new galleries.

“I began lithography reluctantly, thinking the second half ofthe 20th century was no time to start writing on rocks,” Robert Rauschenberg has written of his first,fateful encounter with Tatyana Grosman of Universal Limited Art Editions.


If machismo, as we are increasingly finding, is connected to fear, then the Abstract Expressionists feared for their maleness. America has a history of suspicion with regard to its artists and their manliness, and perhaps never more so than in the early 1950's when the rest of America was rolling up its shirtsleeves and getting down to work to defeat Communism.

He became famous for a series of all-white canvases consisting of flat white paint on a flat white surface: no incident, no brushstrokes, no detail. These paintings are the absolute inverse of Abstract Expressionism in mood, surface, color, and expression. They are a kind of pure anti-Abstract Expressionism. About the size of Abstract Expressionist canvases, they are so without autographic or gestural content of any kind that Rauschenberg declared they were to be painted by others, using a roller. There is an overwhelming feeling of silence in these paintings, a sense that there is nothing to say, or better, that there is nothing that can be said.