VVP: Art 434 & Engl. 410

Website for Vision Voice and Practice: An Interdisciplinary Course in Art and Creative Writing

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Cross-Genre Conversation Pieces: Marianne Moore & Joseph Cornell

A few weeks back, students presented the work they made in response to Marianne Moore and Joseph Cornell. Here's what they made:

 [Zach Jimison]
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 [Hannah Sapigao]
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[Jasmyne Bell]
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[Dienna Catuna]
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 [Emma McLaughlin]
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 [Emily Jacobo]
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[Eden Theule]
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Cross-Genre Piece #1 - responding to J. Cornell’s Lunarscape 1952
6:04pm-7:04pm 2/7/20
The moon lists above him and he lists with it
Blue, dusted with orange, marked with grey and white
Beautiful, luminous, empty, big
Empty. 
Tilting.
He feels the star remnants beneath his feet,
The blue dust scattered. 
He sees the broken shells of his once-refuge.
A seat here, a seat there.
A piece of engine, smoldering. 
God, he thinks, are you with me?
Silence answers.
And then -
Light.
In a pillar of fire before him. 
Oxygen levels at 23%.
He breathes
I am dying. 
The moon sinks, he stumbles.
The fire fades.
Cloud replaces it.
Cloud, the color of the moon.
White, soft, gentle.
Home. 
Where is my home? 
He falls forward, and does not hear the sound,
But feels it -
His body, feels it.
Blue filament scatters at his impact.
Deserved, you have decided. 
Nails have pierced his suit,
He hears the whistle of air,
The cold
Of space. 
The pillar of cloud stands before him.
Above him.
Behind him.
With him. 
The moon rises, and it turns
Back to fire.
Luminous. 
The stars of the ceiling sag, each winking in harmony
They blink, witness of a creator
Witness, to a creation 
He begins to cry.
Wet splatters against the glass of his helmet,
Leaking out through the cracked screen,
Frosting against his cheek.
Searing in the heat of the fire,
Turning to mist before him. 
The pillar flickers -
Cloud, fire, cloud, fire 
The moon spins.
He spins? 
The pillar does not move
Steadfast
Constant
Immutable 
My home, he cries out to Silence. 
When he opens his eyes again,
All he sees is cloud.
And fire.
He ​breathes. 
“My beloved Son,”

Arms surround him, light-soaked and cloud-heavy.
He at once, knows, knows​ he is cherished. 

“Welcome home.” 
[Lavender Tonini]
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[Emily Bontrager]
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[Johanna Nelson]
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[Juliana Fujii]

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[Lori Lusk]
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[Emma Fellows]
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[Hannah McLaughlin]
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[Micah Brady]

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