Concrete canapes

Whilst considering the selection of canapes at the recent event celebrating the Gomringer Collection at DMU, I wondered if there was a deeper meaning to the chives pointing in an easterly direction from their perch on top of the rosettes of cream cheese. An ill wind blowing through higher education perhaps?

Did the uniform arrangement of the sesame-coated, Stilton scone-like wheels comment on contemporary society in some way?

And how on earth had someone managed to cut poppadoms into perfect pizza triangle shapes without them shattering into tiny pieces? (this was explained by a fellow attendee who suggested they had been cut into shape prior to cooking. Oh yes, of course.)

Guests were justified in thinking maybe the food on offer was imitating Concrete Art. The event on 13th September was held to welcome back avant garde Swiss poet Eugen Gomringer, himself partly inspired by the Concrete Art movement to develop Concrete Poetry as a new poetic form in the 1950s. Concrete poetry is a playful and creative use of language, deceptively simple yet adding a further dimension to a poem. It uses the typographical arrangement of words together with the blank space of the page to suggest meaning, as well as from the words themselves.

Eugen Gomringer is ‘the daddy’ to this movement, and DMU is priveleged to house a collection of many of his seminal poems in the Clephan Building. The collection was printed by Francesco Conz, a collector of concrete poetry, and was originally donated to DMU in 1996. The donation was organised by former Professor of English and Cultural Studies Nicholas Zurbrugg, not only an influential academic but also a noted concrete poet and artist.

Gomringer, now in his 80s, was modest and charming as he spoke of viewing the collection again. I know for a fact the concept of concrete poetry is taught in primary schools, and every year his poems are seen by a new audience at DMU as another intake of Humanities, and now Art and Design students, make their way around Clephan building. Some will stop and look at the collection, some won’t, yet the poems are there.

Take a look next time you are passing the second floor lecture theatre. What do you think of them?

And in case you were wondering, the canapes looked and tasted very nice thank you and that was all they were meant to do.

Sally Jack, DMU

Editor's note: This post has been published long after the event (in September 2011) owing to blog-problems. Usually I would not publish anything so belatedly but Gomringer is so distinguished that it seems worth including a belated review. And the works will remain on display in the Clephan Building during Cultural eXchanges week.