MONDAY ARTPOST 0829-2022

MONDAY
ARTPOST
0829-2022
ISSN1918-6991
MONDAYARTPOST.COM
Columns by Artists and Writers
Bob Black / bq / Cem Turgay /
Fiona Smyth / Gary Michael Dault
/ Holly Lee / Kai Chan / Kamelia
Pezeshki / Ngan Chun-tung /Shelley
Savor / Tamara Chatterjee / Wilson
Tsang / + DOUBLESPREAD (Lee Ka-sing)
/ Picnic (Holly Lee)
MONDAY ARTPOST published on Mondays. Columns by Artists and Writers. All Right Reserved. Published since 2002.
An Ocean and Pounds publication. ISSN 1918-6991. email to: mail@oceanpounds.com

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“He who is not content
with what he has, would
not be content with what
he would like to have.”
Socrates

Yesterday Hong Kong
Ngan Chun Tung
Ngan Chun-Tung 顏 震 東 (1926-2005)
Ngan started his photographic career
in the darkroom. Basically self-taught,
he perfected his printing technique
and offered printing service since
1954. For almost a decade, he also
gained his living by participating
in photography contests, earning a
modest amount of money and fame.
He was awarded Hon. member of
The Photographic Society of Hong
Kong in 1964, and was President
and Vice President of The Chinese
Photographic Association of Hong
Kong during 1968 to 1982. As soon
as he retired in 1982, he set up
school, focusing on teaching printing
in the darkroom. Ngan had published
books on practicing photography
and darkroom techniques. His only
monograph “Ngan Chun-Tung Black
and White Photo Collection” was
published in 2003.
Hope For A Better Tomorrow (Hollywood Road, 1958)
by Ngan Chun-tung
8x10 inch, gelatin siver photograph printed in the nineties
Edition 3/20, signed and titled on verso
From the collection of Lee Ka-sing and Holly Lee

Leaving Taichung
Station
Bob Black
The following poem, Hong Kong: Songs from the
Rooftops, is an 8-part poem that was written over the
course of the last 5 years. Each part corresponds to
a part of Hong Kong and each part also is dedicated
to a friend. It was completed this past spring. This
poem is dedicated to 8 friends, for whom the city
is a constant conversation in my head and heart,
regardless of the shape and tune.
This poem is dedicated to: Holly & Ka-sing Lee,
Nancy Li, Kai Chan, Yam Lau, Chris Song and Ting,
TimTim Cheng, Tammy Ho and Kristee Quinn.
May they always be filled with voices, food and
sound. Carry on.

Hong Kong: Songs from the Rooftops
“In these shaken times, who more than you holds
In the wind, our bittermelon, steadily facing
Worlds of confused bees and butterflies and a garden gone wild”
-- 梁 秉 鈞 , Bittermelon
VI. Kwun Ton: 觀 塘 區 , Birds Clapping
We awoke
6am the birds clapping the thin morning light
into the first raising in 3 days of rain
into the first opening in which I do not think of birth
days, slicking
the eyefocus shimmer as mirage, the dropped I
water buffalo eyewinking long in the distant horizon, so too they and all now
awakening.
We watch the curtain in our bedroom lung in and lunge out in unfocused breath,
recall
a tear
up a moment
listen
for the earthworms singing up their group, a murder of black hyphens in the sky
the new dandelions pop
as the night’s oxygen bubbles from underneath, going in their longing,
at the birds cacao
An alluring song
ca·coph·o·nous
death
sometimes you just want to be,
quiet in language
Death
sometimes we just want to be,
silent in song
So
you re-read, test anew, an extraordinary tea-stained page
poems multiplying back the book--
we are alive this am.
The opaque Saturday morning silvering soon.
The same cannot be said of everyone who has entered and exited your life, the breaks
of life, or porcelain verbs and inherited vases,
your hope, my heart,
Perpetual
Ly
the gone, the songs, the scars, the reappeared and reassembled.
All those lives, the mahjong and the sextoy store, the old man teething his tai chi poems
and no one listens, only the birds
Sentence Eliminations.
Multiple Choice
Strung up, thrown out copper coins with an eye of emptiness pressed out in the brass
the void around which the wheel moves toward the hand and food pressed in a slot
and all those birds.
The birds
The light kept appearing
The going keep going
and
you put life down for a moment
this morning an old book dusting on the shelf, tea cup red with lip stains
this morning
The birds clapping,
The birds winging,
The birds coming,
The birds clamouring,
and the birds keep, still
Birds
listening silently, aloud and around you
still.

Caffeine Reveries
Shelley Savor
Summer Chairs

Greenwood
Kai Chan
Landscape, acrylic paint on canvas

TANGENTS
Wilson Tsang
Spectrum

Open/Endedness
bq 不 清
浪
WAVES
往 海 洋 退 去 , 就 像 最 近 孵 化 的
海 龜 , 消 失 而 不 會
再 被 看 見 。 這 片 沙 灘 現 已 遍 佈
殼 與 羽 毛 。 柳 枝 被 拋 棄
Return to the ocean, like recently hatched
Sea turtles, disappear and will not
Be seen again. This beach is now bestrewn
With shells and feathers. Osiers are left
因 此 它 們 終 於 能 夠
瞥 見 天 空 的 湛 藍
可 是 柳 樹 啊 柳 樹 , 微 風
有 多 麼 想 念 你 呢 ?
Behind so finally they can catch
A glimpse of the blueness of the heavens.
But willows O willows, how much
does the breeze miss you?
所 以 昨 晚 我 做 了 一 個 夢 而 結 果
它 比 鳥 被 排 除 於 兩 棲 爬 行 動 物 學
之 外 還 要 真 實 。 那 曾 經 珠 光 閃 耀 的
室 內 外 牆 現 已 暴 露 於
So last night I had a dream that turned
Out truer than the exclusion of birds
From herpetology. The once nacreous
Facade of an interior is now exposed to
空 氣 中 。 青 苔 蔓 衍
如 在 圓 麵 包 底 層 上 的 綠 色 番 茄 醬
之 後 發 生 的 事 就 不 需 要
想 像 力 了 , 或 更 精 確 點 不 需 要 解 釋 : 生 菜 、
The elements. Mosses spread
Like green ketchup on the bottom buns.
What comes next needs no
Imagination, or rather explanation: lettuce
番 茄 、 漢 堡 肉 餅 、 芝 士 和 酸 瓜 ⋯⋯
我 們 的 日 子 堆 疊 著 , 但 在 這 個 陽 光
燦 爛 的 下 午 , 令 你 流 淚 的 是
洋 蔥 而 不 是 離 別
Tomato, beef patty, cheese and pickles…
Our days piles up, but it is the onions,
Not the departure that makes you
Cry, this sunny afternoon.

CHEEZ
Fiona Smyth

ProTesT
Cem Turgay

ART LOGBOOK
Holly Lee
Jing Huang: Pure of Sight – photographs of everyday trivialities are atmospheric, sophisticated
and tender.
https://www.leica-oskar-barnack-award.com/en/winners/winner-award-newcomer-2011-jing-huang.html

The Photograph
coordinated by
Kamelia Pezeshki
Jasmine by Kamelia pezeshki

Travelling Palm
Snapshots
Tamara Chatterjee
France (March, 2022) – While away, I spent
a bit of time dashing around navigating the
multiple trains culminating in nostalgic
adventures. Seemingly half the population
continued to wear masks though the
mandates were lifted, which offered very
lively experiences, most of mine with the
family giants.

From the Notebooks
(2010-2022)
Gary Michael Dault
From the Notebooks, 2010-2022
Number 152: After Tatlin’s Fishmonger, 1911 (May 25, 2011)

Poem a Week
Gary Michael Dault
Sleepers on the Roof
there are sleepers
on the roof
dogs curled up
in bird nests
cars parked
wheels up
seagulls taken for walks
on leashes
trees shaking
in a rage of rain
tulips under the earth
hoping to stay dark

Celebrate the launch
of three new books by
Gary Michael Dault
OCEANPOUNDS

The Book of the Poem
Paperback Edition
CAD$35
Order Print-on-Demand paperback edition at BLURB:
https://www.blurb.ca/b/11246718-the-book-of-the-poem
ebook (US$5.00), pdf download. Bonus: access code for read-on-line edition
https://oceanpounds.com/products/bp
This is a Facsimile Edition of “The Book of
the Poem”, a Gary Michael Dault sketch book
from 2017 to 2018. The size of the original
piece is 9.5 x 12 inch (240 x 305 mm), 40
pages, spiral bound.
60 pages, 8.5x11 inch (22x28 cm), paperback, perfect bound
Published by OCEAN POUNDS, 2022
isbn: 978-1-989845-38-7
PAGES from The Book of the Poem are available at OCEAN POUNDS Print Series Program: Each issued
in an edition of five, on 260 g/m Velvet Fine Art Paper. Sheet size: 13 x 9.5 inch. Signed by the artist.
Numbered and with “OP Selection” Blind Stamp.

Still Life Still:
A Book of Vessels
Paperback Edition
CAD$75
Order Print-on-Demand paperback edition at BLURB:
https://www.blurb.ca/b/11244211-still-life-still-a-book-of-vessels
ebook (US$5.00), pdf download. Bonus: access code for read-on-line edition
https://oceanpounds.com/products/bv
164 pages, 8x10 inch (20x25 cm), paperback, perfect bound
Published by OCEAN POUNDS, 2022
isbn: 9781989845363
This is a Facsimile Edition of “A Book of
Vessels”, a Gary Michael Dault sketch book
from 2006-2007. The size of the original
piece is 10.25 x 10.25 inch (260 x 260 mm),
142 pages, spiral bound with covers in thick
cardboard.
PAGES from A Book of Vessels are available at OCEAN POUNDS Print Series Program: Each issued in an
edition of five, on 260 g/m Velvet Fine Art Paper. Sheet size: 13 x 9.5 inch. Signed by the artist. Numbered
and with “OP Selection” Blind Stamp.

The Nearby Faraway: Small
Paintings on Cardboard
Paperback Edition
CAD$95
Order Print-on-Demand paperback edition at BLURB:
https://www.blurb.ca/b/11244181-the-nearby-faraway-small-paintings-oncardboard
ebook (US$5.00), pdf download. Bonus: access code for read-on-line edition
https://oceanpounds.com/products/tnf
220 pages, 8x10 inch (20x25 cm), paperback, perfect bound
Published by OCEAN POUNDS, 2022
isbn: 9781989845356
This book was published on the occasion
of the exhibition “The Nearby Faraway:
Small Paintings on Cardboard”, held at
50 Gladstone Avenue artsalon, Toronto,
in Summer 2022. This book includes 97
paintings produced by Gary Michael Dault in
between 2004 to 2009.

You might also be interested in these - =
Lee Ka-sing’s photographs on SWANHOUSE,
a two-day visit to Gary and Malgorzata
348 pages, 8x10 inch (20x25 cm) paperback, perfect bound
Paperback edition (CAD$120), order at BLURB
https://www.blurb.ca/b/10946788-swan-house
ebook (US$5.00), download pdf.
https://oceanpounds.com/products/swan-house
A collaboration: Photographs by Lee Ka-sing
/ Haiku by Gary Michael Dault
180 pages, 8x10 inch (20x25 cm) paperback, perfect bound
Paperback edition (CAD$75), order at BLURB
https://www.blurb.ca/b/10947020-time-machine
ebook (US$5.00), download pdf.
https://oceanpounds.com/products/time-machine

The Nearby Faraway: Small Paintings on
Cardboard, an exhibition by Gary Michael
Dault. 50 Gladstone Avenue artsalon in
Toronto. Exhibition runs thru September
17, 2022. Visit by appointment:
mail@oceanpounds.com
To view the exhibition online
(or purchase):
https://oceanpounds.com/blogs/exhibition/tnf

DOUBLESPREAD from
Double Double studio,
photographs by
Lee Ka-sing
Support and Become a Patreon member of
Double Double studio
https://www.patreon.com/doubledoublestudio
Unlimited access to all read-on-line books,
patrons only contents. Collecting artworks at
discounts.
Patreon Membership: Friend of Double Double ($5), Benefactor Member ($10), Print Collector ($100) Monthly subscription in US currency

An excerpt from
Hana, Picnic, Stones
DOUBLE DOUBLE April edition 2022
Holly Lee
Picnic
Essay, and
photographs from
Shan Hai Jin series
山 海 經
188 pages, 8x10 inches, perfect binding
Paperback edition
(Print-on-demand, direct order from BLURB, CAD $75.00)
https://www.blurb.ca/b/11132777-hana-picnic-stones

Bird with long neck
(Trinity Bellwoods Park 2011)

The park managed to evade concrete invasions. From the ridge of the dog bowl - the
last remnant of the creek ravine within the park, one can see the city tower, devouring
the ravishing sunset and sunrise. Dogs partying unleashed in the pit throughout the
year. In the winter, people go tobogganing. Someone told me they spotted more than
two white squirrels in the snow. I asked which ones? To distinguish the species, albino
squirrels have red eyes, white squirrels have black.
Picnic
I sat on the office chair we brought from Hong Kong with eyes closed. It was used as
a prop for a commercial shot many years ago. Birds outside my window twittering; the
room in front of me melted away. I thought of Robert Frank; he sat watching the sea.
Birds jumping from branch to branch chirping, in Cape Breton. I imagined myself as
Robert Frank so I could hear the sea.
In my mind journey I invent mountains and seas, in parks, in my proximity. It began
in 2010, the first image I saw was a picnic day, BCE 250. A modern age with a dash of
antiquity.
Faint commotion, tiny buzzing activities! I need a loupe to see what’s in there and
who’s doing what. Three people were sitting on the right. Wasn’t this scene Manet’s
picnic on the Grass? Wrong, the name of the famous painting is Luncheon on the
Grass. Manet painted it in 1863. Picnic on the Grass is the name of an oil painting on
Saatchi Art, by a 21st century painter Igor Zhuk. He was born in Kyiv, Ukraine - the
capital most talked-about now because of the war. In my picture, in Manet’s, and in
Igor’s, they all show a group of three people sitting, either gazing towards the viewer,
or engaging in their own conversation. It is a fine day for picnicking. These sediments
settled and coalesced into the organic churning of my mind, part primeval, part close
range. Reality is in a state of flux. I pluck a point in time like plucking the string of a
harp.
Here, along the grass where the three people were sitting, a creek was once flowing.
It stretched the length of the park and flowed beneath a bridge. The creek had since
long dried up and the bridge was dismantled, buried up in the same spot. A little down
south is the buried foundations of a college, a Gothic-Revival architecture built more
than a century and a half ago.
I sat in front of the computer fully immersed. I could keep on digging, repeating the
dull work of an archeologist and still finding things. I was led to a website where a
LIVE-NFT button was blinking, luring me to push. I ignored it, resisting this to be my
future. Universe, multiverse, metaverse. Virtual reality is not just mimicking our world;
it is gradually taking over. Despite legions of phenomenal thinkers, it is still confusing
to step into the future. Does spirituality need to be redefined? Would it become God,
this powerful superintelligence that qualitatively far surpasses all human intelligence?
This singularity, is he God?
Quieting down my fear for the future, I return to some of my photographs of the parks;
revaluing their significance, contemplating their resemblance to realistic landscape
paintings. They look calm, insipid and uneventful. But some genies seem to be lurking
behind the scenes. Zooming back to fifty years, a hundred or a thousand years, these
landscapes buried countless anonymous stories that never passed down, nor made
marks on the same patches they are now standing on. I close my eyes; I roll back and
forth the office chair I am sitting on, freeing my mind to do the traveling. In a eureka
moment I fly over mountains and valleys, rivers and seas, arriving at cloud cuckoo
land; places where myths live, die, and begin. I see a flock of gold-shedding birds
flying past the woods; a glowing object moving closer to another; giant bird with a long
neck; summer through winter, a structure with five basketball hoops waiting for a team
to score.
I lift my head and squint my eyes at ten scorching suns, waiting for the archer. The
blinding light, the searing suns! I duck and collapse into the minuscule of being. I hear
sweet birds sing outside my window. The room, now big, now small, opens all doors to
the ocean. On the spur of the moment, I understand the birds’ language.
history, mythology
slip by
under our gaze, every Day -

A Picnic Day, BCE 250
(Trinity Bellwoods Park 2010)

A flock of gold-shedding birds flying past the woods
(High Park, 2010)

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