Biography of Ann Lauterbach
Ann Lauterbach (born 1942) is an American poet, essayist, and professor. Her most recent poetry collection is Under the Sign (Penguin Books, 2013). Her honors include fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation, the Ingram Merrill Foundation, the John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation, and the New York State Foundation for the Arts. Her poems have been published in literary journals and magazines including Conjunctions, and in anthologies including American Hybrid: A Norton Anthology of New Poetry (W.W. Norton, 2009) and American Women Poets in the 21st Century: Where Lyric Meets Language (Wesleyan University Press, 2002).
Lauterbach was born and raised in New York City, and earned her B.A. from the University of Wisconsin. She lived in London for eight years, working in publishing and for art institutions. On her return to the U.S., she worked in art galleries in New York before she began teaching. She has taught at Brooklyn College, Columbia University, the Iowa Writers Workshop, Princeton University, and at the City College of New York and Graduate Center of CUNY. Since 1991 she has taught at Bard College, and is currently a David and Ruth Schwab Professor of Languages and Literature there, where she teaches and co-directs the Writing Division of the M.F.A. program, and lives in Germantown, New York.
Ann Lauterbach Poems
The days are beautiful The days are beautiful. I know what days are.
Elegy for Sol LeWitt
The weather map today is pale. The lines on the map are like the casts of fishing lines looping and curved briefly across air. The sky now, also, toward evening, is pale.
This trace, if it exists, is alms for delusion. An arch uncurls from the floor scented with the scent of a tapestry, housed here. I recall the hour but not its passage
The Translator's Dilemma
To foretell an ordinary mission, with fewer words. With fewer, more ordinary, words. Words of one syllable, for example.
Elegy for Sol LeWitt
The weather map today is pale. The lines on the map
are like the casts of fishing lines
looping and curved briefly across air.
The sky now, also, toward evening, is pale.
On Sunday, in Beacon, there were lines
drawn on walls and also lines
drawn across the canvases of the last paintings
of Agnes Martin. One of them has two pale squares
on a blackened field.