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Holiday à la Carte
cream cheese and an iced coffee and a grilled chicken sandwich and a small salad and a Coke and an iced tea and some nuts and Cheese Nips and two Molsons and half a charred salmon, a dozen steamers and three more Molsons.
coffee and some corn flakes and a fish fillet sandwich with chips and iced tea and two Molsons, a Saranac in there somewhere, a Labatt's and a grilled chicken sandwich, and later, a single malt scotch.
coffee, two small muffins and a tomato juice, a Killian's Red and a Molson with sliced turkey on a Kaiser roll, chips, and then a Labatt's, two, bread rounds, pâté, a fillet of beef, smoked chicken salad and a kind of fusilli that I liked, with olives. A Corona and one adverb of resignation— or is it concession?— nevertheless.
shredded wheat and fruit, an apple turnover and a half a bagel with cream cheese and grapefruit juice, a Killian's Red, half a burger, cole slaw and grilled tuna, a pickle, a pepper, a slice of watermelon, a Molson Ale, a Davidson's India Pale (local, Glens Falls) and a share of the chicken chili nacho appetizer, a Ceasar's salad with Gulf shrimp and one notion of want, nibbled; a Jameson back in the room.
room, a muffin from Dave's, a turkey sandwich in the van, three beers at the track, clam chowder (with reflected cloud), an iced coffee, another on the road, sushi take out, La Fin du Monde at home, a Molson, and a half measure of quiet.
sections, a spray of city horns in the dark, a Molson, turkey on a roll, coleslaw and a pickle and another Molson and two auxiliary verbs, were and might, and a crab cake and a green salad and two Czech beers, Lobvo, I think, and a cup of coffee, and an in-flight snack, a Stella Artois, two, and coffee and a fruit cup and a muffin and a nut roll and one subordinate conjunction—until.
and some coffee and a Guinness and a salmon salad on a baguette with cucumber and tomato, chips, and Marcel Broodthaers's "Casserole and Closed Mussels" at the Tate Modern, a Young's Ordinary Bitter, before a windlass of jet lag drew it all up out of me in a Richmond loo, all but for the mussels. A mug of Earl Grey to begin again.
juice and black coffee and brown bread with marmalade, half a banana, a Coca-Cola, a bite of chicken sausage, a pint of Beck's and a ham and cheese sandwich and a Heineken, a Holsten Pilsner, some hummus, a potato soup and a Moretti's, a slice of pizza and a crab and papaya salad, gelato and espresso, one call home, a fainting regret and a finger of single malt scotch.
boy to man. I ran along the Thames, was stranded by the tide, had coffee and brown bread and marmalade, a Braeburn apple, and a cup of tea, a bottle of Beck's, a mature cheddar salad sandwich and a Boddington's Bitter and another adverb of concession, however, and a thought about the various models of my youth. Rocket and parmesan salad and baked red snapper and glasses of Côte Tariquet, three, and a dessert of traditional trifle and a port wine and a glass of Beck's at the Roebuck and a Wild Grouse taken with a twist of irregular verbs— speak, speed, spell, spend, spill— and a crowning subordinate conjunction— as soon as.
25.08.01
favor of will and had tea and toast and then coffee and juice; I dragged to the post and wrote a note home, happy that my eldest son might settle, and had a frothy English coffee and everyone else seemed taken ill. By swings and roundabouts had a pint of Carling and a bag of crisps in the Gatwick Dickens, and shrugged off a harmony of tenses from the crew. I had a chicken salad bloomer, the rest of my crisps and a Coke with lemon and ice from the flight attendant, Helen Wright, and ground again. I had a sweet "bon soir" from a late-night Lisette with an Opel, ma voiture, awaiting, and later, a Kronenbourg line called 1664 ("seize cent soixante-quatre," poor) and cold chicken, green salad, grapes and a delicious camembert, courtesy of friends.
BIENVENUE CHEZ PETIT CASINO 30140 ANDUZE TEL: 04 66 61 91 83
PISTACH CASI 20.03F CONF CO 370G 11.87F 6OEUFS MOYEN 8.66F TUILES PIZZA 6.82F P H 6 RLX 15.28F BIERE BLONDE 28.93F BIER.DELIRU 45.27F 3 x 15.09F LIQUIDES 19.60 % 28.00F CONTREX 6XIL 17.38F FRUITS/LEGUMES 5.50% 13.80F FRUITS/LEGUMES 5.50 % 11.40F MOUCHOIR CO 9.12F SPAGHETTI 7.67F YA.NATUREX4 6.56F CHEVRE 2000 14.69F CAMEMB.CASIN 11.41F LIQUIDES 19.60 % 28.00F
(1 EURO = 6.559570 Francs)
MONTANT EURO 44.89
Numero de Ticket : 009634
probably my favorite works of Marcel's are the mussel shell pieces, like the ones where the shells heap up beyond the confines of their cooking pots and the lids sit on top. Mussel shells are not a common material in America.
stand in gegensatz zu diem 'internationalen stil' der meisten Pop-, Minimal- und Konzept- Kunstwerke. I'm glad of that. Marcel has written poems about mussels revealing the kind of complex symbologies he imbues them with, but in these works they can simply be seen as a material of which there is 'too much' of," writes Mike Kelley.
the sprinkler starts, out of the dead, still silence of a countryside asleep—endormie?— wick, wick, wick, wick, wick, wick, accompanied by the low bass hum of the pump beneath the house. The sky, she brightens. L'oiseau. Le coq. It's 6:30 now in Langue d'Oc, a region named for a language, Occitain, once spoken by the troubadours.
and croissants, still warm, from Monoblet, a small mountain town, all limestone and tawny faces. When will I be what I've become? Ham, bleu cheese, baguette, Leffe Blonde and straw- berries. Un Blanche de Bruge, deux, in Uzes, and one pang of regret: I pass on "La petite peinture" box, complete with tiny easel, straight edge, compass, affixed palette and booklet of sample sketches and instructions in French for mixing colors—at 650 francs I think it too much at an antique shop. A misstep.
energies seem to gather toward the present, longer than the little "now" or even the longer "maintenant," the kind of present that is a presence, a weather, a condition. What kind of present lasts forever? Je ne sais pas mois…
Cuisse de Canard, confit aux Cèpes et Filet de Merou, sauce aux crevettes et un Kronenbourg, deux, et cognac et sorbet citron. Hail falls, fell; clear, cleared. Jameson on a terrace, the moon— à minuit—half, and yellow. Bonne nuit. Août 30
I am signing the guestbook at a friend's art show and someone else has written, "I didn't get the sushi piece at all and something-something-something doesn't rate as art." I notice as I sign my name that I've added an adverbial suffix to mon prénom— Michael become Michaelly—and figure, well, that's the standard for a dream. Off to Nîmes today, to Carré d'Art.
musée in the old city of Nîmes is stunning—glass and steel, full of sky and light, drinking in the amazingly preserved Roman temple from about 5 A.D. across the street and framing it; and the current show, a collaboration between Bruno Carbonnet and Christophe Cuzin, plays with the notion of houses, flowers, skies and windows ["contre-plaqué, placoplâtre, verre et acrylique"]. Lunch (mussels) in a courtyard after, but is Michaelly really Mike Kelley? Skipping dinner ce soir.
a cloud to the west, the air cools a few degrees, you can feel it, and a wind, slowly, insistently, fills these trees, holm-oaks and mulberries, and the grasses— wild thyme, lavender, rock rose and rice straw— swoon.
Albany, with your father, who is not well. There is a lot of press around. You are staying with a friend, perhaps my cousin Danny— or now you maybe know his wife, Eileen, or someone else I vaguely know. You say bitterly that we will be going there a lot, won't we. There is a general pronomial confusion throughout the night.
the square window to our sleeping room is pure silver, and the air slinks in, cool and shy and silent, a lover without a tongue.
L'art due XXeme siècle
a donné à notre église un certain climat, privilégiant
la lumière, la couleur plus que la forme. Les pierres vénérables
prennent des tons d'une richesse inouie d'ors, de rubis, de lapiz lazzuli.
Claude Viallat le créateur, a très bien traduit dans son oeuvre
la clarté mouvante du soleil. Bernard Dhonneur, maître verrier,
a utilisé une technique nouvelle: les vitraux sont réalisés
en verre soufflé à la bouche. Les verres sont colorés
au moment de la fusion avec un ajout d'une couche d'émail coloré
sur un support blanc, après une étude en atelier, en étroite
collaboration avec Claude Vialllat. Claude Viallat est né en 1936 à
Nîmes. Lors de ses études, il a découvert Matisse, l'abstraction
américaine, et a développé un art abstrait critiquant
le statur traditonnel du tableau. En 1966 il inaugure durant l'été
tout son travail à venir: avec les premières toiles libres
sans châssis, il adopte une forme, "trouvée" par accident,
rappelant un haricot, qui deviendra emblématique de son art. Depuis,
cette empreinte caractéristique, ni géométrique, ni organique,
est répétée a l'identique sur toute la surface de ses
oeuvres. Sa recherche sur les supports l'amène à travailler
sur des bâches, souvent de grand format, ou toute autre texture,
de préférence usagée et réputée non picturale
(parasols ou stores, sacs de jute, habits…). Il en déconstruit
alors l'espace par l'emploi répété et systématique
de cette forme, en jouant de la polychromie, des coutures, de la complexité
de la découpe, et des motifs trouvés sur ces supports variés.
En 1993 il obtient le Grand Prix nationale de peinture. Pour l'église Notre-Dame-des-Sablons,
clasée monument historique, Claude Viallat a conçu 31 vitraux,
repartis en rosace et fenêtres. Ils sont réalisés par
le maître verrier Bernard Dhonneur, ils comportent plusiers couleurs
dans l'epaisseur, leurs formes êtant obtenues par gravure à
l'acide et l'ensemble relié par des résines acoustiques. L'emploi
de grands volumes avec des nuances dans les couleurs et la matière
a permis de serrer au plus près la pensée de l'artiste. Lake George—London—Langue d'Oc —Michael Coffey
Michael Coffey's two books of poems are Elemenopy and 87 North. He is the managing editor of Publishers Weekly and editor of The Irish in America. Originally published in the Summer 2002 issue of Boston Review |
