Showing posts with label nina jane drystek. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nina jane drystek. Show all posts

Monday, March 23, 2026

Forty-five Ottawa poets : nina jane drystek : Two poems

folio : Forty-five Ottawa poets

 

 

 

dropthread

o the shape of our webs 

o going out   out going o o o o

we play in the grass with sinews   our wet legs
lace   quickly precise   spindle thread
looming laymen & legends 

over under twist tie pinch   her buttock   her cheek
   toe tips sticking out from her dress

trick: our silk is made of spit
 each strand strong enough
  to turn times

o o  o  o   o

      is this the one where she turns to stone?
      where men crash on the rocks?
      the one where she is lost, her mother drowned
      & the lover returns to marry a young doe?
         irrelevant
         keep spinning

send o   the shape of our wishes
o going out   out going o o  o  

for fish, for love, for safe harbour   ships keep sailing
but you only need to read the nets 

o string tied ankle to wrist
slipping jacket    o   from his shoulders
the drawn-out hell-o  

silly o fraying at the cuff   stray thread in crotch
o don’t look back   o o o   no 

about the dew: you can try to cast off
try crying heavenwards 
   but how o we dazzle
      rolling meticulously
         spinning o after o upon o

 

 

 




my hand     your open mouth
spilling h e e d a n d o      eeztor h e e d a n d o
     tongues telling tell

[pour liquid onto dish]

that is desire & that is beauty

we are this cup     & this cup is good
cold glassware     capped capsule up

[overturn empty cup]

hestor      callisthea
     our cups     lips    
             
many thunderbolts
edanto anticipation     othnmoka expectation
     i am         this was

     autika imeros
     arisei arise arisei

hestor’s purple sei
not brided     not othnmoka     but ceremony all the same

[strike match]

in a circle meant to be burned 

naked hestor ringed fire 

sei     say     sei

i am learning to play

[fire in dish]

 

 

 

 

 

what I am currently working on

recently, i have been working on poem sequences. i have come to appreciate this longer form because it gives me more room to play than a single poem. the sequence visually creates a soundscape which mirrors what i try and do with my sound poetry work: to create an atmosphere, meaning and feeling through experience. through sound and image. through space and play. it’s also challenging because it comes with a lot of fiddling.

fortunately, i am mostly done fiddling on a collection of poem sequences (from which these poems come). rooted in Greek mythos it is about desire, sisterhood and queerness. it’s about magic and the ways we try to find and express ourselves. the poems are stories, experiments and performances.

sequences have also led me to revisit prose, and i am currently taking a short story course with Jessica Westhead through the University of Toronto’s School of Continuing Studies. i am curious to see where the confluence of these explorations takes me next.

 

 

 

nina jane drystek [photo credit: ming wu] is a poet, writer and performer based in Ottawa, unceded Algonquin Anishinaabe territory. she is the author of the chapbooks missing matrilineal (above/ground press, 2023), a : of : in (Gapriot Press, 2021) and knewro suite (Simulacrum Press, 2019), co-founder of Riverbed Reading Series and an editorial member of Arc Poetry Magazine. her sound poetry can be heard on Bandcamp and YouTube under the name textcurious. nina jane writes collaboratively with VII – authors of holy disorder of being (Gap Riot, 2022) and Towers (Collusion Books, 2021) – and performs sound poetry with a rotating group of collaborators.  if you have ever lived in the same city as her you have likely seen her riding a red or blue bicycle.

Friday, March 21, 2025

nina jane drystek : 2025 VERSeFest interviews: Oana Avasilichioaei

 


 

 

Oana Avasilichioaei interweaves sound, poetry, performance, and translation to expand and trouble ideas of language, histories, polyphonic structures, and borders of listening. She has created many performance/sound works that mix electronics, ambient textures, noise, and vocal play, published seven collections of poetry hybrids, including Chambersonic (Talonbooks 2024), award-nominated Eight Track (Talonbooks 2019), and Limbinal (Talonbooks 2015), and written a libretto for a one-act opera Cells of Wind (FAWN Chamber Collective, 2022). She is based in Montreal/Tiohtià:ke.

Oana Avasilichioaei reads in Ottawa on Tuesday, March 25 as part of VERSeFest 2025.

nina jane drystek: Hi Oana, I am very excited that you are coming to Ottawa for VERSeFest as part of the Riverbed Reading Series showcase, curated by myself and Ellen Chang-Richardson. We have both really enjoyed your past work, and as poets who also experiment with sound and the page, we were very excited by the forms in CHAMBERSONIC.

Oana Avasilichioaei: Thank you very much for the invitation and interest in this work.

nj: CHAMBERSONIC is very much about sound, and the pieces in the collection reflect on the role sound plays in our world. CHAMBERSONIC features various sound pieces which you link to through QR codes in the book. As a poet, how did you move into sound art and performance?

O: I’ve always been fascinated with the performative space, even as a very young writer in the late ’90s when I first participated in open mics (in cafés and bars around Vancouver) and started to understand that the live stage is very different from the static page. Later, after co-writing Expeditions of a Chimæra (Book*hug, 2009) with Erín Moure and performing dual-voice readings with her, I got a glimpse of the vast potential of the non-singular voice. Soon after, I acquired my first pedal (a BOSS VE-20 vocal processor) and started experimenting with layering and multiplying my voice. This opened up a vast terrain of sound exploration, which has continued and expanded over the years. My writing, performance, sound art practices have become increasingly intertwined and cross-pollinating.

nj: When you are creating sound works, how does the page play into how you conceive them? Or do you start with sound itself? Space?

O: At this point, thinking about what “starts” something might be a kind of chicken and egg quandary. The catalysts for the sound works may be a text, a particular sound vocabulary or research, a concept, a graphic score, a material exploration of objects or tools, but even when it “starts” with a specific text, I might be driven to write that text partly because of some other sound or visual work I have previously made.

For every performance that involves my written texts, I never take a text exactly as I wrote it for the page and then simply add sound to it. Instead, I always extract, remake, recompose, resonify the text I am attempting to make performative. I re-envision it into a sort of score, which then no longer works on the page but only works in its new sonic medium. For me, this transformation is absolutely necessary to breathing sonic life into the paginated text.

nj: In CHAMBERSONIC, you have two variations on a piece. “Let Form Be Oral” is a graphic score, which places text within a musical staff, and “Let Form be Aural” is a QR code link to a recording of the piece. These are followed by a related third piece that is an essay and text interpretation of the sound work through the experience of recording it. Similarly, “Fellow Statements,” and “Chambersonic: Soundpace // Eavesdropping on the Process of a Dilettante Composer” is all about the process of creation. Why was including pieces about the experience of creation integral to this collection?

O: CHAMBERSONIC explores how sound and voices move in and through various types of chambers (bodies, organs, rooms, small and large spaces, theatres, as well a social constructs, which can act as enclosures) and how such chambers shape, determine, make possible, and also limit what these sounds and voices can be or do, how they behave, what they might become or transform into. As such, the book-album is more concerned with process, with how something becomes, and less concerned with the end results, the “products.” I felt this was important to explore in our contemporary moment when we are so obsessed with the immediate, the product, the outcome. Therefore, I used various strategies to embody the idea of process, including transmuting works into various media and writing about the act of creation.

nj: In addition to poems and QR code links, your collection also includes photographs and poetic essays, and visual poems. In that sense it is truly a hybrid work but in book form. Can you talk about how you pulled all these threads together?

O: This goes back to some of what I said in the previous answer, in that the threads weaving this web are the movements and existences, possibilities and impossibilities, enactments and silences of voices and sounds in various types of spaces. Altogether, the work endeavours to materialize and activate (in language, in the body, on the page, in an environment) an in-between space, something that is not of one genre, field, medium but exists and translates between and is materially made out of two or more genres, fields, media.

nj: There are many references and influences listed in your book, from the epigraphs to the acknowledgements. While reading your book I was thinking about Cecilia Vicuña’s Spit Temple, which was an important text for me as I began to think about sound and space. I had this little “aha!” moment while reading the acknowledgements when you mentioned it as a book that inspired your thinking while conceiving this collection. As your work is so interdisciplinary, I was wondering if you could talk a bit more about your influences and how they informed the ways you think about sound and language.

O: My influences are multiple, cross-genre, cross-generational, cross-historical, and plurilingual. They might include anything from poetry, philosophy, social discourse, sound and performance theory to experimental theatre and dance to electronic and ambient music to visual art and sound art. They might also include topographies, technologies, vegetation, industrial spaces, interior design and architecture, wind, colour, rock formations, urban alleys, clouds, ancient manuscripts, political transcripts. I guess what I am trying to say through this non-exhaustive list is that ultimately it is a deep curiosity about and an attentive listening to the world around me that propels most of what I write or make.

nj: The lines in “Chambersonic: A Graphic Score” reminded me of the work of Canadian-American visual artist Agnes Martin. Did her work filter in while you were working on this piece?

O: I’ve certainly been a longtime admirer of Agnes Martin, and the 2017 retrospective of her work, which I saw at the Guggenheim in New York, remains one of my favorite exhibitions. I would see any influence she may have on my work as a huge compliment. But there was something else that I wished to develop through “Chambersonic: A Graphic Score,” which is based on the musical staff. Whereas in traditional music notation, the notes arranged on the staff are the markers of sound, I wanted to transform the five lines of the staff into markers of sound in these drawings. The arrangement, spacing, length, thickness, shape, proximity, colour, and texture of the lines combine to suggest various gestures, qualities, volumes, tones, and frequencies of sound.

nj: This collection was exciting for me because its language and ideas resonated with those that I have been turning over lately. Of particular interest to me is the presence and relationship of the earth and sound. In your poem “Voice Scree,” you allude to the shifting of stone, both visually and thematically. In the piece “Chambersonic: Porous Seuil Possible Solo” you mention erratics among other aspects of the natural world: “Whose lifetime? You may ask. The insect’s? The tree’s? The human’s? The erratic’s? The planet’s?”. Perhaps this is too granular, but I would like to know why “scree,” why “erratics” resonate for you? And what role the earth and natural world play in your conception of sound art.

O: I imagine erratics, stones, and scree as the earth’s “noises,” as dissonant and cacophonous presences in their environments, but also ones that are very old and that shift over time, either very slowly or suddenly, so they also point to different notions of time. From these and from other patterns of the natural world, I draw inspiration for both written and sonic forms and structures and of how time can function within them. I often think of sound and language as environments, and I try to consider how natural, built, or socio-politically constructed environments affect those existing within them and how they in turn affect these contexts. As a species, we’ve become so disconnected from the natural world, which is in part what has led to the environmental crisis we’re currently facing. I want to resist this disconnection in any way that I can. Listening, doing field recordings, and experimenting with the interplay between naturally occurring sounds and mechanically or electronically made sounds are some of the ways I try to do this.

nj: Reading and listening to the works in this collection, I started to imagine what a performance of CHAMBERSONIC is like, and I cannot wait to see and hear it. I was hoping you could tell readers and people who will be attending VERSeFest a bit about what they can expect from a performance of CHAMBERSONIC.

O: The performance will focus on two sound works that feature vocal experiments and doublings, electronics, different types of microphones (which capture sound in a variety of ways), and also the drones of motors and electricity. 

 

 

 

 

 

nina jane drystek is a poet and performer based in Ottawa, Ontario, unceded lands of the Algonquin-Anishinaabe. she is the author of the chapbooks missing matrilineal (above/ground, 2023), a : of : in (Gap Riot Press, 2021) and knewro suite (Simulacrum Press, 2019), and two collaborative chapbooks with the collective vii, holy disorder of being (Gap Riot, 2022) and Towers (Collusion Books, 2021). she writes and performs sound poetry and was shortlisted for the 2020 Bronwen Wallace Poetry Award as well as the 2021 Priscilla Uppal Poetry Prize. more info at textcurious.ca

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