Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Review the 1913 Armory Show


Many historians point to the Armory Show of 1913 as an authentic starting point for American modernism. From February 17th to March 15th, 1913, organizers presented an exhibition of about 1250 paintings, sculptures, and other works in the 69th Regiment Armory on Lexington Avenue in New York City. Many critics and viewers were shocked by the show; many, especially younger, artists and critics were energized and inspired by the show.

For next class, instead of meeting in the Humanities building. We'll meet in the 69th Regiment Armory on Lexington Avenue. Virtually, of course. Instead of coming to class on Thursday, September 25, point your browser to: the Armory galleries. Take a tour of the show. And, afterward, write a 2 page review (typed) of the show. Address your review to a friend who asks the question: what makes this stuff modern? Hand in the review on Tuesday, September 30.

Modernism


We'll obviously be talking a lot about modernism in class - - but it's worthwhile to take a look at one many consider to be one of the earliest (of many) manifestoes of modernism - - F.T. Marinetti's 1909 declaration of Italian "Futurism."

Here's a partial list of Marinetti's principles of Futurism:

1. We want to sing the love of danger, the habit of energy and rashness.
2. The essential elements of our poetry will be courage, audacity and revolt.
. . .
4. We declare that the splendor of the world has been enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed. A racing automobile with its bonnet adorned with great tubes like serpents with explosive breath ... a roaring motor car which seems to run on machine-gun fire, is more beautiful than the Victory of Samothrace.
. . .
7. Beauty exists only in struggle. There is no masterpiece that has not an aggressive character. Poetry must be a violent assault on the forces of the unknown, to force them to bow before man.
8. We are on the extreme promontory of the centuries! What is the use of looking behind at the moment when we must open the mysterious shutters of the impossible? Time and Space died yesterday. We are already living in the absolute, since we have already created eternal, omnipresent speed.
. . .
11. We will sing of the great crowds agitated by work, pleasure and revolt; the multi-colored and polyphonic surf of revolutions in modern capitals: the nocturnal vibration of the arsenals and the workshops beneath their violent electric moons: the gluttonous railway stations devouring smoking serpents; factories suspended from the clouds by the thread of their smoke; bridges with the leap of gymnasts flung across the diabolic cutlery of sunny rivers: adventurous steamers sniffing the horizon; great-breasted locomotives, puffing on the rails like enormous steel horses with long tubes for bridle, and the gliding flight of aeroplanes whose propeller sounds like the flapping of a flag and the applause of enthusiastic crowds.

Full text here.


Some of the big questions we'll try to ask and answer about modernism include:

How do literary movements and texts reflect social and cultural contexts?

What kinds of work do readers do with literary texts?

To what extent is modernism liberating? Oppressive?

What is the picture of "modernity" - - the modern world - - painted by modernism? How accurate does it feel? What does it leave out?

How does modernism attack tradition? What are the benefits of suspecting tradition? Drawbacks?

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

The Sonnet

SONNET XVIII

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, 5
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest; 10
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

William Shakespeare

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Essay #1

For a copy of the assignment for Essay #1 - - click here.

Questions? Ask me.

Thursday, September 4, 2008

The melting pot in action . . .

Workers at the River Rouge Ford plant - - in Ford's pageant, they enter the "melting pot" in ethnic garb and "emerge" in the plain clothes of the American workers:



Trans-national America . . .

A brief selection of American cartoons about immigration and immigrants from the end of the 19th century:



Tuesday, September 2, 2008

"Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen"

Du Bois's Souls of Black Folk consistently juxtaposes "high," canonical poetry with musical notations of black spirituals. Here's a recording of Sam Cooke singing "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen," the musical notes that lead off Du Bois's first chapter, "Of Our Spiritual Strivings." You can find the lyrics below the video.




Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen

Nobody knows the trouble I've seen;
Nobody knows my sorrow.
Nobody knows the trouble I've seen;
Glory, Hallelujah!

Nobody knows the trouble I've seen;
Nobody knows my sorrow.
Nobody knows the trouble I've seen;
Glory, Hallelujah!

Sometimes I'm up, sometimes I'm down;
Oh, yes, Lord.
Sometimes I'm almost to the ground;
Oh, yes, Lord.

Nobody knows the trouble I've seen;
Nobody knows my sorrow.
Nobody knows the trouble I've seen;
Glory, Hallelujah!

I wish that I could find a way;
Oh, yes, Lord.
But life is just one long, rainy day;
Oh, yes, Lord.

Nobody knows the trouble I've seen;
Nobody knows my sorrow.
Nobody knows the trouble I've seen;
Glory, Hallelujah!