Enrique Baeza & Traian T. Coşovei : Poetry Forgives

Posted on October 10, 2015 by

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Photography: (c) Enrique Baeza (Barcelona, 1972) experiments with the boundaries of personal and mass communication. And he does so in a context in which the language, itself limited, has become a useless tool. He uses resources of propaganda, poetry, street art and television to deliver messages, both in the public and private space, wielding a challenge. He is interested in vindicating a new kind of language to serve as an alternative to poor communication codes, mutilated, ideologically led and obsolete. So, he creates slogans which use paradox to deploy their own meaning, messages that flaunt their own condition of unfinished objects inducing the receptor to probe multiple interpretations and to construct meanings from different ontological categories, ranging from the most mundane to the more abstract.

Poetry: Traian T. Coşovei, Vânătoarea pe capeteLibra, 2002.

e4Ideea era să pun o poză şi un fragment de poem şi să o ţin aşa până m-or lăsa puterile, apoi am căutat poezie de Traian T. Coşovei în engleză şi am văzut că nu e NIMIC. Aşa că o să încerc să traduc eu, aşa vor înţelege mai mulţi oameni.

e11The cat chew something for a long time. It seemed like the missing / lights
from the Christmas tree last night. // Suddenly outside there was light.
And the light started meowing… (p.22)

e9The knife, the razor blade, the absent sleeping pill:
event cut up from the papers, plans of faraway
slipped under ones temple.
That tramp of a life written on walls with smaller and smaller letters (p.42)

e12The dead people from the cabaret had human shadows: meaning
they were late with their faces turned to the wall… (p.32)

e1The piano changed its mind in mist of late keys.
The mirrors wanted to be Venetian. (p. 28)

e6Being sure
means having details:
names, addresses, smirks and faces, passports used/over seas and oceans
(p.40)

ee8e2No, I no longer want gas station perfume –
I lived my youth and no longer expect night busses.
At either side of the highway I no longer dream of James Dean (p. 50)

e7Photography: (c) Enrique Baeza

Poetry: Traian T. Coşovei, Vânătoarea pe capeteLibra, 2002.