EPILOGUE
for Ilya and Emilia Kabakov
the emperor of the Installation is gone;
gone, mimics the chorus
defecting swiftly to the other side again
depending on who will win
but we are far from that now
searching every rooftop
dream by dream
for his disappearance
his widow weeping into every corner
of the displaced installation
that has taken wing
God help the Empress.
what is geography anyway
geographies
when we were visionary in our time
outside of time and history
shoring up the dreamlike never stationary
installation, installations
forever yearning for the angels to arrive
and meanwhile, erstwhile
forever amenable to every fairytale
whispered from the baseboards UP
escape velocity achieved
the colours blurring only slightly
through our tears.
mary angela douglas 15 july 2023
t's wonderful the way you've located the installation in a moment of disappearance, as if the final moment of its physical manifestation was a beginning. Kabakov's intention was launched into eternity... now it will continue to add more human meaning to Heaven.
t's wonderful the way you've located the installation in its own disappearance, as if the final moment of its physical manifestation was a beginning, whereby its intention was launched...now it will continue to add more human meaning to Heaven.
I'm going to recommend this poem to a couple of people, but in order to recommend them I must also tell them the title of your first poem about this installation.
The way you've written this makes me want to write a series of poems about conceptual artworks that I love...that my memory keeps replaying.
You have hit upon something very special about conceptual art and the medium whereof it is created! My memory goes back to several conceptual art pieces I love. Some of them are installations, and some of them are performance pieces and even proposals.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
For lucky readers who stumble on this poem, it would help to add a note mentioning the title of the first poem you wrote about Kabakov's installation piece.