Artwork

Innhold levert av Art Gallery of Ontario. Alt podcastinnhold, inkludert episoder, grafikk og podcastbeskrivelser, lastes opp og leveres direkte av Art Gallery of Ontario eller deres podcastplattformpartner. Hvis du tror at noen bruker det opphavsrettsbeskyttede verket ditt uten din tillatelse, kan du følge prosessen skissert her https://no.player.fm/legal.
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3 Desk in Room 1219 and Cohen on Guns

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Manage episode 349333168 series 1395868
Innhold levert av Art Gallery of Ontario. Alt podcastinnhold, inkludert episoder, grafikk og podcastbeskrivelser, lastes opp og leveres direkte av Art Gallery of Ontario eller deres podcastplattformpartner. Hvis du tror at noen bruker det opphavsrettsbeskyttede verket ditt uten din tillatelse, kan du følge prosessen skissert her https://no.player.fm/legal.
Desk in Room 1219 1968 notebook page with Polaroid Type 20 instant prints Set against a deep blue wall a square plexiglass case displays two wall mounted items from the collection of Cohen’s personal journals displayed in this area of the exhibition labeled “Tennessee 1968”. On the left, at standing-height eye level, is a page from a tall and narrow lined notebook with five palm sized black and white polaroid photos stuck in it. Next to this on the right is a typed sheet of paper with a block of text on the top half. The journal page will be described followed by a reading of the typed text. Cohen on Guns 1968 typed page Moving to the typed paper displayed alongside the journal page: The paper has yellowed slightly by time and the darkness of the letters of the text is slightly irregular as were the products of manual typewriters of the day. The handwritten number 88 is in the top right corner. The typed text reads: Nashville December 20, 1968 My heart leaped up when I beheld the glass counter With its magic row of revolvers in the Woodbine Army Surplus Store. My eyes devoured the precious machinery. I had to keep myself from laughing out in joy. To be so close! Magic moves from poem to gun. I came close to loving the automobile but I never quite succeeded. Watches and clocks have their fascination but I am so uninvolved in the jewels and the wheels. It is like watching fish in a bowl, one cannot interfere, only behold. The artifacts in museums interested me by the mere accident of their survival. I never loved a shard or a painting. I’ve walked through factories, rebuking myself for my indifference, straining to be a modern man who at least respects his utensils, stifling a yawn. But these guns, I loved them as my eye fell upon them, as one loves beautiful women. I bought the tear gas pen, dreaming.
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440 episoder

Artwork
iconDel
 
Manage episode 349333168 series 1395868
Innhold levert av Art Gallery of Ontario. Alt podcastinnhold, inkludert episoder, grafikk og podcastbeskrivelser, lastes opp og leveres direkte av Art Gallery of Ontario eller deres podcastplattformpartner. Hvis du tror at noen bruker det opphavsrettsbeskyttede verket ditt uten din tillatelse, kan du følge prosessen skissert her https://no.player.fm/legal.
Desk in Room 1219 1968 notebook page with Polaroid Type 20 instant prints Set against a deep blue wall a square plexiglass case displays two wall mounted items from the collection of Cohen’s personal journals displayed in this area of the exhibition labeled “Tennessee 1968”. On the left, at standing-height eye level, is a page from a tall and narrow lined notebook with five palm sized black and white polaroid photos stuck in it. Next to this on the right is a typed sheet of paper with a block of text on the top half. The journal page will be described followed by a reading of the typed text. Cohen on Guns 1968 typed page Moving to the typed paper displayed alongside the journal page: The paper has yellowed slightly by time and the darkness of the letters of the text is slightly irregular as were the products of manual typewriters of the day. The handwritten number 88 is in the top right corner. The typed text reads: Nashville December 20, 1968 My heart leaped up when I beheld the glass counter With its magic row of revolvers in the Woodbine Army Surplus Store. My eyes devoured the precious machinery. I had to keep myself from laughing out in joy. To be so close! Magic moves from poem to gun. I came close to loving the automobile but I never quite succeeded. Watches and clocks have their fascination but I am so uninvolved in the jewels and the wheels. It is like watching fish in a bowl, one cannot interfere, only behold. The artifacts in museums interested me by the mere accident of their survival. I never loved a shard or a painting. I’ve walked through factories, rebuking myself for my indifference, straining to be a modern man who at least respects his utensils, stifling a yawn. But these guns, I loved them as my eye fell upon them, as one loves beautiful women. I bought the tear gas pen, dreaming.
  continue reading

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