Poetry | An Evening with Martial Raysse

Following Lévy Gorvy’s recent announcement of the representation of French artist Martial Raysse in the United States, Martial Raysse: VISAGES opened on February 28, 2018 at our New York gallery at 909 Madison Avenue. On the evening of March 1, we hosted a special poetry reading in the presence of the artist.

Gallery co-founder Dominique Lévy read poetry by Martial Raysse, and Leopoldine Core then read her poem “The Bird,” which was written on the occasion of the exhibition, and other works.

Leopoldine Core is the author of the poetry collection Veronica Bench and the story collection When Watched, which won a Whiting Award and was a finalist for the PEN/Hemingway Award. She is a 2017 National Book Foundation 5 Under 35 honoree. Her fiction and poetry have appeared in Joyland, PEN America, Apology Magazine and The Best American Short Stories, among others. She teaches at NYU and Columbia University.

Below we share two poems that were recited on the occasion: Martial Raysse’s “Au bal du cosmos…” and Leopoldine Core’s “The Bird.”

Au bal du cosmos…

Au bal du cosmos la nuit des anges du ciel

Bu un coup de trop avec ses beaux yeux rieurs

Mon cœur en loterie tarot computer

Tout tourne dans le manège pour l’essentiel

Du sommet de la colline de Prénestre

La fortune dorée sourit au matelot

De la belle fable la lie est mon lot

Seul sous les lampions ou sans toi ne pas être

Ne comptez pas sur moi pour le mât de cocagne

Les pieds dans le tapis à qui perd gagne

Le sacrifice est bien l’action de l’amour en tout

Méduse cache son cœur en montrant ses seins

Lumières éteintes sans rémission ni fin

Prends le métro Barbès et sors à Tombouctou

—Martial Raysse, 1985

©2014 Martial Raysse / ©2014 kamel mennour, Paris/London.

THE BIRD

What woman.

Marilyn e morte

permanently dead

or permanently mortal.

a harsh face chuckling

a warbling sound

scattered applause

a flap door shutting

a paper flag

OH

What woman

rolling a TV around

from room to room.

It might not be narrative

just things

happening.

Pure red and luminous red.

Cosmos pink and opera.

It reminded me

of interruption

Like being bad

Not keeping still.

Hammer noise and the people

ignoring it

I don’t really know

what is going

to happen.

Inserting a look

not always listening

OH

singing, indistinct

What woman

cooking an empty pan

all night

Laughing and screaming

the naked planet

whoever she

was

a roundish face

that knew

itself

OH

Is a woman a boy against God?

I think she must be.

sunshiny

with secret corridors

hopping out

of her seat

It’s political

Interruption is.

a spitty kiss

a centipede

on your car

your guitar

OH

What woman.

—Leopoldine Core, 2018

© Leopoldine Core