EL ANATSUI is a Ghanaian sculptor who has spent much of his achievement packed career living and working in Nigeria. El Anatsui currently runs a very robust studio in Nsukka, Enugu, Nigeria, where some of the most beautiful and touching works of art in the world today are created. He is one of the most highly acclaimed artists in African History and foremost contemporary artists in the world. El Anatsui uses resources typically discarded such as liquor bottle caps and cassava graters to create sculpture that defies categorisation. His use of these materials reflects his interest in reuse, transformation, and an intrinsic desire to connect to his continent while transcending the limitations of place. His work can interrogate the history of colonialism and draw connections between consumption, waste, and the environment, but at the core is his unique formal language that distinguishes his practice. Above: El Anatsui’s “New World Map,” aluminum bottle caps and copper wire, 2009–2010. |
Today's News . . . Today's Poem
The New Verse News
presents politically progressive poetry on current events and topical issues.
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Tuesday, January 26, 2021
CONSUMER CULTURE
Monday, December 07, 2020
WHITE TURNS TO BLACK
i.
don’t know Black
don’t think Black
don’t speak Black
but like to listen
hear the sharp breaks
twists and turns
White is privilege.
In COVID
we garden
cook
think bitter thoughts
await a different regime.
ii.
Hasn’t changed yet!
Not for better:
Made the ballot secret
Blacks can’t vote if they can’t read—
can’t win anyway—
Don’t even try!
Only eggheads need good schools
and what do eggheads know?
Bus ‘em!
so what,
got no brains to think with anyway.
Then came jazz.
Music changed.
Boys of Summer
black, winning
Shut the doors!
Keep ‘em out!
basketball
Blues
Hip-Hop
Thurgood Marshall Martin King Anita Hill
strong black middle class
iii.
Who was it
Packed the court,
just stacked ‘em in!
forgetting
They still get to serve us coffee
coughing
while our white blood flows as red as it can get.
It’s time Whites learn from Black.
Mary Clurman, Princeton, NJ, retired Montessori teacher, struggling with the virus news and changing what I can.
Monday, September 28, 2020
NOVEMBER 2020
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Wicked Wind by Tracey Savery Davis |
i.
the wind blew wicked hard that day
it howled and blew
it rocked the house
though I slept safe in bed
the storm did rise to hit the house
kill flowers through the land
tear branches down, fell ancient trees
yet did not touch my head
the storm rose up to strike our house
did everything it could
yet I and thee so deep in sleep
still breathed, slept easily
ii.
that wind had come to seize our day
it danced and whirled and groaned
to wake up all to hold the land
but somehow let us sleep
why would this wind stop at our bed
why would it prowl away
if not that you and I were here
and sought to sleep that day
That wind has come to call on us
leave eddies, pools in hearts
to cry to you to me who dream
You sleep, you welcome death.
Mary Clurman is a retired Montessori teacher and childcare professional in Princeton, NJ, taking her first class in writing poetry. She has only run for school board but remains aggressively progressive.