A White, a Blue, a Yellow, Red. Poetry by Jeremy Reed

• Introduction
• Exhibition

Jeremy Reed. Photo: Gerry McNee, 2009

A White, a Blue, a Yellow, Red. Poetry by Jeremy Reed

For decades, Jersey-born writer Jeremy Reed has been Britain’s most dynamic, adventurous, and controversial British poet and prose stylist. The Independent has called him ‘British poetry’s glam, shape-shifting answer to David Bowie,’ and his poetry, fiction and performances of his work are singular and inimitable in their opposition to mainstream poetry. Since his arrival in London in the 80s, when he was taken up by the artist Francis Bacon, he has published over 40 prize-winning books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction. ‘His work has been translated abroad in numerous editions, into more than a dozen languages. Among his biggest fans have been the late J. G. Ballard, Pete Doherty and Björk, who has called his work ‘the most beautiful, outrageously brilliant poetry in the world.’

www.jeremyreed.co.uk

Jeremy Reed’s choice

‘A characteristic of my poetry and fiction is acute perception of detail, compounded into shape-shifting visual imagery. Looking at this collection of objects, I chose five works that seemed to fit with some of my obsessive preoccupations, such as sci-fi, DNA and cellular shapes, fashion, pop and the continually updated design of the modern world.

‘Mo Jupp’s menacing stoneware Helmet made the connection for me not only with Brands Hatch racing drivers, but with aliens in the form of common greys, and smoked-out biker-boy visors. David Watkins’ neckpiece Primary Orbits triggered in me the link between genes and planets situated in deep space, and Naoko Sato’s exceptionally beautiful glass sculpture Transition 39 prompted the fluent sensual associations between raindrops, a silver pleated skirt and cryogenics. In Grainne Morton’s 64 Compartment Window Brooch I found a pointer not only to Joseph Cornell’s boxes, but to the random displays in big city life from which we visually retrieve images like chocolates in a box. And in Edmund de Waal’s Arcady installation, I found an anthology of closed ceramics consistent with global architecture and the idea of a black steel skyscraper as a private sarcophagus erected on 18 floors. Each piece provided the stimulating building blocks for a poem of associated imagery.’