06 - A Poet’s Process
What was the inspiration behind the title "Dog on the Forge"?
Jim: It comes from a poem that I wrote. The line struck me as a kind of metaphor for “this old dog on the hot seat,” or “this old dog on the forge,” meaning, you’re gonna be made into something bigger or better, or you’re gonna get fucked over.
My friend, the poetry professor at Yale, Karin Roffman said the poem was like Gertrude Stein’s “Tender Buttons,” which I really loved.
I’m gonna share the poem, because I love it. Here’s the poem:
Dog on the Forge, 2024
Daddy, forget the road
left behind,
My mind, an historical tune/
rage, shot thru the pungent air
makes it unprintable, like a dog —
the sleeper will always dream and howl
about democracy — a holiday sleeper,
The dog on the forge
poisoned by the dark amber internet,
photos on Thursday, next Tuesday, we wash the sheets.
Coffee, dozen eggs, oranges et cetera. Greek yogurt, bacon,
ham, water and ice cream bars.
Jim Dine
“I’m a poet and I always have been. It’s nice to write the lines as a form in a painting.”
— Jim Dine
A Fluid Dialogue
Jim shuffles his poems around, often taking lines from different poems and using them in a single artwork.
In an impromptu interview, Jim spoke about one of his new works—Cry, the poems—which features lines of his poetry.
Jim explains how the plastic considerations of the sculpture and the open spaces between the pots inform how the poem is read.
He likens it to the call and response practice in many church services, therefore emphasizing the use of the language.
You can watch the full video here:
In the large-scale double pots, “Cry, the poems, 2024,” Jim uses lines from two poems in the painted acrylic element. The sculpture will be on view in Dog on the Forge, a Collateral Event of the 60th International Art Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia, Stranieri Ovunque – Foreigners Everywhere, curated by Adriano Pedrosa
Read the two poems “The profound fear” and “Eunice, the landscape” below.
The profound fear
The profound fear always
there is nothing new.
It’s just the end of nothingness
And yet,
It’s probably not nothing
Nor the end
As words just light the clouds
On a funny field of black.
All life’s been seeing the beautiful grey.
What is it ?
A shaft of wheat harvested or cut.
Not Brahm’s Cello,
Not green grass.
Robin red breast bobbing his head for worms
Mother talking to me,
Robin red breast
backyard watch from the window of my room,
Robin pecking and gathering worms.
In other words
The universe is expanding-
No need to imagine it, you can see it
And proving outside of the milky way
Is Stardust / Big Boy,
The boy we called « crazy ».
Chasing us through the hall of poison ivy.
This 6 year old ranger, riding with
His merry band
Up over the hill from Towne street to the sand pit,
(You know, where the maids walk from the bus stop.)
Mother,
Works at Insane Asylum.
We called him crazy, The likes of you,
The likes of you who caught me staring at your lumpish self/
When you see him move gracefully-
Time stands still
Jim Dine
Eunice, the landscape
Rubble in the streets and
The farm grows,
like the need to pee never ends,
til the first FINASTERIDE
modulates this regime.
Pho—
And the catfish nems I dip like bait.
A brush to deposit energy,
Cellulose and vinyl mixed—
« The starter »-
The gesture becomes real
And very thick, as if there’s no soot in the world.
Air-movies are like they were,
2 Chinese plates all blue and white.
Yellow sacred enzymes.
Why does the sun bother us?
I wipe my hands on my pants
and call up Mister Padgett for answers to my silly Christian questions.
I play the dumb yid and it works,
Only sort of
There is something
Worn out in Berkeley
The glass is tired
The windows cloudy,
they need a good wipe.
Pho-
collegial and kind
Jim Dine
JIM DINE
DOG ON THE FORGE
20 April — 21 July 2024
La Biennale di Venezia
Organizing Institution: Kunsthaus Göttingen, Germany
Supported by TEMPLON