BIO
Tom Konyves is a video
producer and poet currently residing in Crescent Beach, BC, with
his wife Marlene and their three children. Based in Montreal until
1983, his poetry has evolved from his mid-seventies association
with the Vehicule Poets' group a period distinguished by
Dadaist/experimental writings, performance works and videopoems
to the
reflective and almost delicate work created in the later Vancouver
poems.
In 1978, he coined
the term "videopoetry" to describe his multimedia work. The 1993
Nuage Editions book, Vehicule Days, details his involvement with
the Montreal group of experimental poets. In1999, the Edgewise
Café selected him as People's Choice at the First Videopoetry
Festival.
BOOKS
Love Poems, Asylum
Publishing 1976
No
Parking, Vehicule Press, 1978
Poetry
in Performance, Muses Co. 1982
Ex Perimeter, Caitlin
Press, 1988
Sleepwalking
Among The Camels, Muses Co. 1994
New
Poems
WHAT
THE CRITICS SAY
on No Parking
Immortal brevities! John Robert
Colombo
So
there are also poets around me in whom I see the occasional
illuminations of vision. One of these is Tom Konyves, now in
Vancouver, whose Selected Poems has just appeared. At the end
of his poem "No Parking" we have this visionary passage,
which echoes with powerful mythology, then explodes in a series
of random and cryptic contemporary images.Louis Dudek
on Poetry in Performance
Konyves is after
large collaborations: between sight and sound, form and
content, environment and art, poetry and technology, conception
and performance, the audience and the poet. Removing words
from a linear context is part of Konyves' war of imagination
against rationalism: war against any hard line, political
or artistic, which is exclusive or divisive. Books
in Review .
on Ex Perimeter
Fascinating,
encouraging, delightful. Here is honesty, genuineness of
mind and of poetic delivery. Several of these poems are
little masterpieces. Louis
Dudek
Konyves relays an authentic voice in well-carpentered passages...
short, from the heart epiphanies one finds marked with peculiarly
urban tenderness; back alley kind of poems that cue on the
localized imagery of a Montreal lane, a cemetery, a lover's
bed. Konyves has a precise eye for detail and he strives for
meaning in his observations. There is contentment with the
ordinary, tribute to birth and death, to change of landscape.
The Vancouver
Sun
The poems in
Ex Perimeter are sparse, clear, direct and full of delicate
and precise insight. Whenever I read them I say to myself, "Yes,
that is it, exactly." In this life of mine which is
too often out of control and beyond reflection, these poems
bring me to a sudden stop. "Pay attention," they
say, "to the moment, to experience, to what is." Lionel
Kearns
on Sleepwalking Among The Camels
Tom
Konyves’ strong experimental impulses and wide range
of technical skills produce some remarkably successful poems… both
his selections from Ex Perimeter (1988) and his most recent
material in the section Into This Space represent the work
of a skilled poet who is finally coming into his own. The
diversity of this material stands out even to the casual
reader. Konyves displays an extraordinary sensitivity to
rhythm…
Allusions
to poets… are woven into meditations
that are both fresh and vulnerable. In short, these final
fifty pages come close fulfilling Konyves’ own declared
desire to create “a temporary object / through which
a thought flows / searching for a vantage point / to view
the human soul.”
Journal of Canadian Poetry
Konyves’ poems are beyond poems, mouthfuls with a surprising aftertaste, and difficult to explain.
Rob Mclennan
TOM
KONYVES VIDEOPOETRY 1978-1993 VOLUME 1
COST: $95.00 US
"Running Time: 43
minutes"
Includes VHS video,
texts of poems, and additional documentation
PROGRAM
SYMPATHIES
OF WAR (1978) 10 MIN.
The concept for this
first "videopoem" was the recording of the performance
of the poem.
The text of the poem contained interjections of "STOP, STOP"
which were
yelled, whispered, pleaded, called out by Endre Farkas. A series
of slides (interior
details of a STOP sign and a DANGER sign) were rear-projected
onto a screen behind which I sat in profile, leaning in and
out of the
"frame" of the camera which was fixed on the slides. The narrative
concerns th contents of a letter sent to a woman whose daughter
(Carmen) has
died in war. The cryptic text mimics the form of censored letters;
the punctuation of STOPs throughout allude to telegraphic messages.
This visual collage
of slides, live action, and text was one of the first
in the medium
of "videopoetry", a classic example of the genre.
MUMMYPOEM
(SYMPATHIES OF WAR - A POSTSCRIPT) (1978) 6 MIN.
Extending the investigation
of the form (videopoetry), the work explores
the act of
writing, literally. The frame, as in Sympathies of War, is frozen,
"mummyfied": it is the close-up the VTR, the lens focused on
the moving
needle of the audio level meter, as the video of Sympathies
of War is
playing. The sound is the sound from the video. A 3"x5" tear-off
writing pad
is underneath the meter. Lines are written on the pad, torn
off, new lines
are written; it is a performance in real time. Words are written,
parts crossed
out to form new words, new contexts.
The poetry here is
the revelation of the live writing juxtaposed with the
"mummyfied"
version of the original poem, a video playing on a machine.
YELLOW
LIGHT BLUES (1980) 15 MIN.
The structure of
this videopoem is based on the I Ching, a Chinese manual
of philosophy
and divination; 64 hexagrams are used as an oracle, a path
to the divine.
Here, the six lines of Hexagram 30, known as Li, the Clinging,
Fire, provide the 6-part punctuation for the piece.
This work continues
the use of vehicular imagery (i.e. The Vehicule Poets)
in the performance
Drummer Boy Raga: Red Light, Green Light, the poem and
subsequent
videopoem No Parking, the videopoem-play Ubu's Blues, The Voyage
of the Vehicle
R, as well as the use of the STOP and DANGER signs in Sympathies
of War.
Again, the text is
written to be performed, accompanied by slides and video.
The videopoem is the last stage of the work, utilizing a segment
from the video
recording of the performance as an element of the videopoem.
AND
ONCE THEY HAVE TASTED FREEDOM (1981) 3 MIN.
Handwritten text
is superimposed over a (seemingly) still landscape.
The soundtrack
is a relaxation exercise, in French. Eventually, the viewer
becomes aware
of an immense moving ship revealed only by its masts. As in
Mummypoem,
the text reveals the poem "bit by bit".
QUEBECAUSE
(1982) 2 MIN.
Handwritten text
is superimposed over a moving ride-on mower. Each word
beginning with
the letter "c" is prefaced with "Quebec".
Conceived during
the interminable debate over Quebec secession, this short
videopoem satirizes
the Quebec-ego. Surprise ending.
SIGN
LANGUAGE (1985) 4 MIN.
This video is an
assembly of graffitti around Vancouver, exploring the urban
psyche, comic, anarchic, at times tragic.
Both Hopscotch and Percussion
were suggested by Artropolis 93, the multi-discipline
art exhibition held every two years in Vancouver. The theme
Art in Public Plsces prompted the creation of these works in a
"commercial"
format, i.e. 30 second and 60 second "spots".
PERCUSSION
16 MM FILM B&W (1993) 30 SEC.
Fingers poised above
the drum, the command to play is given. Percussion is
a duet of voice
and drum, recalling the "beatnik" era of poetry. On closer
examination,
the poem's recital is not "punctuated" but halted by the drum,
effectively
suspending the unravelling of the poem. The drum halts the poem
strategically-
before words beginning with the letter B. Like Hopscotch,
words are substituted
for numbers on the BINGO card.
HOPSCOTCH
16 MM FILM B&W (1993) 60 SEC.
In a deserted schoolyard,
a young girl approaches a game of hopscotch. As we follow her
skipping path through the game, we discover the squares are
marked not with numbers, but words. The words spell out an aphorism
for life: JUMP THROUGH HOOPS FOR LOVE MONEY POWER UNTIL -. With
each close-up, her movements are depicted in slow motion, accompanied
by an ominous growl. Before she starts her second pass, the
sound of a ram's horn startles her. As if called away by the
sound, she turns and runs away but not before she throws the
stone one last time, which lands in the triangle of the "A",
revealing the last word, DEATH.
Poetry has rarely succeeded
in crossing from one medium to another. Translating a poem to
film risks the most fundamental elements of poetry: its suggestiveness
and mystery, its multi-layered descriptions, but more importantly,
its intimacy.
In Hopscotch the
poem survives this visual metamorphosis, even gains in The process.
The original poem was laid out on the page as a hopscotch game,
with the words of the poem inserted in the squares. In the process
of translating the poem to film, a "dramatic" tension - absent
in the original - emerges. As the game is not simply "the game"
of the poem, our heroine is also not simply the "player" of
the film; as mirrors to the surreal, their too brief existence
becomes a symbol of a timeless and inescapable truth, but still
a tragedy.