Monday, June 1, 2015

Navigating Shores: Artist, Critic, Attendee

“The Artist” by Lawrence Ferlinghetti highlights the many roles Ferlinghetti plays in the North Beach poetic scene of San Francisco. The very act of writing the poem identifies him as an artist and therefore, at least, sympathetic to the artist portrayed in the poem. However, his position of curator, owner, critic, and docent of City Lights Bookstore also situates him on the other metaphorical shore he creates, removed from the artist, despite his apparent distaste for that particular group of people.

The poem contains slant rhymes in the second and third lines (cheese/be) as well as the fifth and sixth (openings/galleries). They show the potential of these spaces to be something, but instead miss the point. They are slotted on Thursday nights to save Friday and Saturday evenings for “real” parties and the attendees are more concerned with themselves and refreshments than art.

The following section begins with an alliteration (critics and crickets) followed by two couplets, both continuing the pattern of contrived alliteration:
                And the singles out to score
                And the docents of the donor classes
                Sheathed in silk & Christian Dior
                Holding long-stemmed glasses
In this moment, we see the groups Ferlinghetti condemns more than the casual party hoppers. He packages them in alliteration and couplets to show their confined thinking. The critics are crickets sounding in silence and making mere background noise, seemingly filling the void with opinion that no one seems to listen to as they appear at galleries to be seen rather than see.

The next three lines all rhyme with each other and invoke a sensation of anticipation, the pulling back of the tide before the wave hits. The line after the painter observes the guests (rising/apprising/uprising) rhymes with the previous section describing those guests, placing them on that “most distant shore.” As he ponders what he is “painting for,” the rhyme returns to situate his self-worth in direct correlation with the audience he garners. In response, he feels “adrift in this society” and “doth drink too much.” The final line rhyme once again with the “distant shore,” suggesting their reactions are what debilitates him.


It is interesting to think about figures such as Jack Kerouac and William S. Burroughs who struggle with alcoholism and drug addiction as they produced work. Kerouac became disenchanted with his own popularity and the uproar surrounding the Beat movement. Ferlinghetti himself never turned heavily to alcohol, but seems to sympathize with the plight of artists such as Kerouac. It is also interesting to note that Ferlinghetti acted as a docent and a critic by deciding who to publish and who to deny (Bob Dylan). Ferlinghetti seems to conflate himself with artist and critic and bashes the condition of the San Francisco art scene and the crowd it attracts while simultaneously praising the San Franciscan artist for producing and absolving the same artist for having the lackluster crowds affect him.

Back in February, I attended an installation/performance art exhibit called Fallen Cosmos held in a warehouse in the Dogpatch of San Francisco. It was an invitation-only event focusing on a painting depicting a pagan interpretation of Revelation in which Heaven an Hell would fight for the fate of Earth. Although the concept seemed interesting, I noticed the majority of the attendees were all sneaking in flasks, bragging about drugs they had taken, and asking if drinks or food would be served. I attended the show alone at the invitation of a friend of mine who was a performer. After the exhibit, they ushered us all into a large part of the venue where drinks were served (they were not complimentary).

I complimented my friend on the costumes, but felt the carnival-esque exhibits and final show "in Hell" left something to be wanted. She laughed and adjusted her golden robe. Her hands were stained from pomegranate seeds she had been feeding to guests and she smeared the juices on her garments. 

"This whole thing was just a pet project by Chicken John to get funding for other projects he'd rather invest more time in."

And, well, I couldn't help but laugh too. The artists counted on the patron circle-jerk. Everyone likes to feel pretentious sometimes - why not play to that, I s'pose?

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