Searching for the soul of the city
CityPoem 14 - London
By Hans Karssenberg
08-10-2006 /views: 15278 in past 12 months.
Light projections by artist Jenny Holzer. An interesting fusion between light art, cityscape, and poems: the Polish Wislawa Szymborska and Palestinian Mahmoud Darwish.
photo by Stadtwald
London CityPoem: For the City, by Jenny Holzer, with poems of Polish Nobel Prize winning Wislawa Szymborska and Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish
See also Jenny Holzer CityPoem in Goslar, Germany - on Inspiring Cities
The artist American artist Jenny Holzer was commissioned to present a series of poems to mark Samuel Beckett's centenary, as a part of of the Beckett Centenary Festival at the Barbican. Each night for 8 days she projected a number of poems against London landmarks, such as City Hall, Somerset House on the Strand and the Barbican.
Writings from Beckett and a selection of works by celebrated poets, were cast as light projections onto well-known London landmarks, allowing light and text to flow over the cityscape, creating an extraordinary visual experience.
This series of light projections is part of a programme by Jenny Holzer called ‘For the City’, which took other cities too, such as New York (to be published on Inspiring Cities later).
In London, she projected poems by several poets. Presented today are the Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska and the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish.
The Poem Projected in the above picture was written by the 1996 Nobel Prize winning Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska. Printed in bold is the text in the picture.

photo by Estherase
The Joy of Writing
Lying in wait, set to pounce on the blank page,
are letters up to no good,
clutches of clauses so subordinate
they'll never let her get away.
Why does this written doe bound through these written woods?
For a drink of written water from a spring
whose surface will xerox her soft muzzle?
Why does she lift her head; does she hear something?
Perched on four slim legs borrowed from the truth,
she pricks up her ears beneath my fingertips.
Silence - this word also rustles across the page
and parts the boughs
that have sprouted from the word "woods."
For a drink of written water from a spring
whose surface will xerox her soft muzzle?
Why does she lift her head; does she hear something?
Perched on four slim legs borrowed from the truth,
she pricks up her ears beneath my fingertips.
Silence - this word also rustles across the page
and parts the boughs
that have sprouted from the word "woods."
Lying in wait, set to pounce on the blank page,
are letters up to no good,
clutches of clauses so subordinate
they'll never let her get away.
Each drop of ink contains a fair supply
of hunters, equipped with squinting eyes behind their sights,
prepared to swarm the sloping pen at any moment,
surround the doe, and slowly aim their guns.
of hunters, equipped with squinting eyes behind their sights,
prepared to swarm the sloping pen at any moment,
surround the doe, and slowly aim their guns.
They forget that what's here isn't life.
Other laws, black on white, obtain.
The twinkling of an eye will take as long as I say,
and will, if I wish, divide into tiny eternities,
full of bullets stopped in mid-flight.
Not a thing will ever happen unless I say so.
Without my blessing, not a leaf will fall,
not a blade of grass will bend beneath that little hoof's full stop.
Other laws, black on white, obtain.
The twinkling of an eye will take as long as I say,
and will, if I wish, divide into tiny eternities,
full of bullets stopped in mid-flight.
Not a thing will ever happen unless I say so.
Without my blessing, not a leaf will fall,
not a blade of grass will bend beneath that little hoof's full stop.
Is there then a world
where I rule absolutely on fate?
A time I bind with chains of signs?
An existence become endless at my bidding?
where I rule absolutely on fate?
A time I bind with chains of signs?
An existence become endless at my bidding?
The joy of writing.
The power of preserving.
Revenge of a mortal hand.
The power of preserving.
Revenge of a mortal hand.
By Wislawa Szymborska
From "No End of Fun", 1967
About the artist, Jenny Holzer
Jenny Holzer (born 1950 in Gallipolis, Ohio) is an American conceptual artist. She attended Ohio University (in Athens, OH), Rhode Island School of Design, and the Independent Study Program at the Whitney Museum of American Art. Holzer was originally an abstract artist, focusing on painting and printmaking, but after moving to New York City in 1977, she began working with text as art.
The main focus of Jenny Holzer's work is on the use of ideas in public space. Street posters are her favourite medium, but she also makes use of a variety of other media, including LED signs, plaques, benches, stickers, T-shirts, and the World Wide Web.
Holzer's work has also been integrated into the work of Canadian contemporary dance troupe Holy Body Tattoo.
Holzer rose to prominence with her text series Truisms (1977-79). In 1990 she was the first woman artist to represent America with a solo exhibition at the Venice Biennale. Her installation won the prestigious Leone d’Oro award.
As in the case of the more popular Christo and his large, public, and less confrontational installations, Holzer had to deal with reclaiming of urban space that was being regentrified by private interests around 1980. The city of New York, which had prior to the 1970s provided public space and access with tax dollars, had famously gone bankrupt in 1976. By 1980, the turnaround from an intimidating, crime-ridden public space was already occurring. This change, however, was made possible by corporate investment, and accordingly, Holzer had to negotiate space for an art with no real commercial prospects.
The public dimension is integral to Holzer’s work, and for a decade, light projections have been a critical component for her multi-disciplinary practice. She has realized projections on buildings, mountains and rivers throughout Europe and North and South America. During these events, the writing is in constant motion, an effect akin to credits rolling at the end of a film. The projections for London will continue Holzer’s long-term undertaking to engage compelling locations, architecture, environments and passers-by with words.
The arresting quality of Holzer's billboards is an exploitation of urban space, which took its modern form as a space solely for commerce. Accordingly, the viewer is usually prepared to see commercial messages. However, with Holzer's work, viewers are instead confronted with statements such as "it is in your self-interest to be very tender". These statements reverse the function of advertisements, whose objective is to sell product to the viewer, often with disregard for their best interests.
Since the 1990 Gulf War, which inspired Holzer to make art that was more distinctly political, she has de-emphasized her participation in the American artistic scene.
In an urban space where words have been so operationalized as to create silence most of the time, Holzer's gnomic statements remain shocking and arresting. Yet today, and in her native USA, it is unlikely that the reaction to them would be friendly or neutral.
By avoiding any one style of electronic or engraved calligraphy, and instead taking an interest in the appearance of text in a specific font, weight, place, or time, Holzer draws the viewer's attention to text itself.
Her work reminds the viewer that any text, including an advertising message or government announcement, is never without a material existence, a place and time, and an author.
About the Barbican project, also see: http://www.barbican.org.uk/artgallery/event-detail.asp?ID=4034.
About the first author, Wislawa Szymborska
“for poetry that with ironic precision allows the historical and biological context to come to light in fragments of human reality"
Wis³awa Szymborska (born in 1923) is a Polish poet, essayist and translator. Honoured by the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1996 and by numerous other awards, she is generally considered the most important living Polish poet. In Poland, her books reach sales rivalling prominent prose authors — although she once remarked in a poem entitled "Some like poetry" [Niektorzy lubi¹ poezje] that no more than two out of a thousand people care for the art.
Szymborska frequently employs literary devices, such as irony, paradox, contradiction, and understatement, to illuminate underlying philosophical themes and obsessions. Szymborska is a miniaturist, whose compact poems often conjure large existential puzzles. Although most of Szymborska's poems are barely a page in length, they often touch on issues of ethical import, reflecting on the condition of Man both as individual and member of human society. Szymborska's style is marked by intellectual introspection, wit, and a succinct and stylish choice of words.
Szymborska's reputation rests on a relatively small body of work: she has not published more than 250 poems. As a person, she is often described as modest to the point of shyness. Long cherished by her Polish literary contemporaries (including Czes³aw Mi³osz), Szymborska became much better known in international circles after her 1996 Nobel Prize. Szymborska's work has been translated into many European languages, as well as into Arabic, Hebrew, Japanese and Chinese.
See also the Nobel Prize speech for Wislawa Szymborska: http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1996/presentation-speech.html.
About the second author, Mahmoud Darwish
"I thought poetry could change everything, could change history and could humanize, and I think that the illusion is very necessary to push poets to be involved and to believe, but now I think that poetry changes only the poet."
"We should not justify suicide bombers. We are against the suicide bombers, but we must understand what drives these young people to such actions. They want to liberate themselves from such a dark life. It is not ideological, it is despair."
Mahmoud Darwish (born 1941 in Al-Birwah, Palestine) is a contemporary Palestinian poet and writer of prose. He has published over thirty volumes of poetry, eight books of prose and has served as the editor of several publications, including: Al-jadid, Al-fajr, Shu'un filistiniyya and Al-Karmel. He is internationally recognized for his poetry, which focuses on his strong affection for his lost homeland. His work has won numerous awards, and has been published in at least twenty-two languages. The majority of his work has not been translated into English.
In the 1960s, Darwish joined the official Communist Party of Israel, the Rakah, but he is better known for his active work within the PLO (Palestinian Liberation Organisation). Once a member of PLO Executive Committee, he resigned from the Committee and broke with the PLO in 1993 to protest the continuation of the Oslo Accords.
Sarid, who was Israel's education minister, suggested in March 2000 that some of Darwish's poems should be included in the Israeli high school curriculum. But Prime Minister Ehud Barak declared, "Israel is not ready."

photo Phil Gyford
The above poem from Fewer Roses (1986) is by Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish.
He Embraced His Murderer
He embraces his murderer. May he win his heart: Do you feel angrier if I survive?
Brother...My brother! What did I do to make you destroy me?
Two birds fly overhead. Why don't you shoot upwards? What do you say?
You grew tired of my embrace and my smell. Aren't you just as tired of the fear within me?
Then throw your gun in the river! What do you say?
The enemy on the riverbank aim his machine gun at an embrace? Shoot the enemy!
Thus we avoid the enemy's bullets and keep from falling into sin.
What do you say? You'll kill me so the enemy can go to our home
and descend again into the law of the jungle?
What did you do with my mother's coffee, with your mother's coffee?
What crime did I commit to make your destroy me?
I will never cease embracing you.

Photo: Estherase

Photo: Nic0
Above another poem by Wislawa Szymborska:
In Praise Of Feeling Bad About Yourself
The buzzard never says it is to blame.
The panther wouldn't know what scruples mean.
When the piranha strikes, it feels no shame.
If snakes had hands, they'd claim their hands were clean.
A jackal doesn't understand remorse.
Lions and lice don't waver in their course.
Why should they, when they know they're right?
Though hearts of killer whales may weigh a ton,
in every other way they're light.
On this third planet of the sun
among the signs of bestiality
a clear conscience is Number One.

Photo: Nic0
And above another poem by Wislawa Szymborska
"Children of Our Age" (1986)
We are children of our age,
it's a political age.

photo by Ayres no graces
He Embraced His Murderer
He embraces his murderer. May he win his heart: Do you feel angrier if I survive?
Brother...My brother! What did I do to make you destroy me?
Two birds fly overhead. Why don't you shoot upwards? What do you say?
You grew tired of my embrace and my smell. Aren't you just as tired of the fear within me?
Then throw your gun in the river! What do you say?
The enemy on the riverbank aim his machine gun at an embrace? Shoot the enemy!
Thus we avoid the enemy's bullets and keep from falling into sin.
What do you say? You'll kill me so the enemy can go to our home
and descend again into the law of the jungle?
What did you do with my mother's coffee, with your mother's coffee?
What crime did I commit to make your destroy me?
I will never cease embracing you.
And I will never release you.

Photo: Estherase

Photo: Nic0
Above another poem by Wislawa Szymborska:
In Praise Of Feeling Bad About Yourself
The buzzard never says it is to blame.
The panther wouldn't know what scruples mean.
When the piranha strikes, it feels no shame.
If snakes had hands, they'd claim their hands were clean.
A jackal doesn't understand remorse.
Lions and lice don't waver in their course.
Why should they, when they know they're right?
Though hearts of killer whales may weigh a ton,
in every other way they're light.
On this third planet of the sun
among the signs of bestiality
a clear conscience is Number One.

Photo: Nic0
And above another poem by Wislawa Szymborska
"Children of Our Age" (1986)
We are children of our age,
it's a political age.
All day long, all through the night,
all affairs--yours, ours, theirs--
are political affairs.
all affairs--yours, ours, theirs--
are political affairs.
Whether you like it or not,
your genes have a political past,
your skin, a political cast,
your eyes, a political slant.
your genes have a political past,
your skin, a political cast,
your eyes, a political slant.
Whatever you say reverberates,
whatever you don't say speaks for itself,
whatever you don't say speaks for itself,
So either way you're talking politics.
Even when you take to the woods,
you're taking political steps
on political grounds.
you're taking political steps
on political grounds.
Apolitical poems are also political,
and above us shines a moon
no longer purely lunar.
and above us shines a moon
no longer purely lunar.
To be or not to be, that is the question,
And though it troubles the digestion
it's a question, as always, of politics.
it's a question, as always, of politics.
To acquire a political meaning
you don't even have to be human,
you don't even have to be human,
Raw material will do,
or protein feed, or crude oil,
or a conference table whose shape
was quarrelled over for months:
Should we arbitrate life and death at
a round table or a square one.
or protein feed, or crude oil,
or a conference table whose shape
was quarrelled over for months:
Should we arbitrate life and death at
a round table or a square one.
Meanwhile, people perished,
animals died
houses burned,
and the fields ran wild
just as in times immemorial
and less political.
animals died
houses burned,
and the fields ran wild
just as in times immemorial
and less political.

photo by Ayres no graces
Inspiring Cities Museum of CityPoems
Inspiring Cities has collected many citypoems over the years, as well as organized salons with citypoets and cities doing special projects. We have two criteria for what a citypoem is: the intention must be poetic, and it must be in the public realm of cities. Shapes, form and locations can and do differ.
The Museum of CityPoems has citypoems from cities all over the world. From Alhambra to Zonnebeke, from Taipei to Lima.
Got one yourself? Mail us your pictures (free of rights) and description, and we will publish.
On Friday 28 November 2009, Erik Krikortz visited Inspiring Cities and Stipo in Amsterdam for a lecture on his project Emotional Cities. On a website
Thursday 10-12-2009 is the second Inspiring Cities Night in Amsterdam. Topic: The Urban Screenscape, the use of urban screens in the public domain.
The highlights of an Inspiring Cities salon in Rotterdam, June 3td 2009.
The 29th October 2009 was Inspiring Cities night in Amsterdam. Approximately 40 people talked, dreamed and laughed about possible applications for aug
Inspiring Cities organises Jane Jacobs day in Rotterdam (31st of October 2009).
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