Poetry as Practice: Melissa Broder's poems for Oneohtrix Point Never



Part of First Look: Poetry as Practice, copresented with the New Museum.

R Minus Seven (2015)
Melissa Broder
View Work

R Minus Seven (2015) by Melissa Broder (@melissabroder) is a collection of ekphrastic poetry that was written in response to Oneohtrix Point Never's album R Plus Seven (Warp Records, 2013). Each of Broder's poems is presented in a layout designed by the poet on the online publishing platform NewHive. 

Melissa Broder is the author of three collections of poems, most recently SCARECRONE (Publishing Genius Press, 2014). Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in POETRY, Tin House, the Iowa Review, Fence, the Missouri Review, Denver Quarterly, and Guernica, among others. 


Oneohtrix Point Never and Nate Boyce's Performance at MoMA PopRally


Photos by Kristy Leibowitz/elkstudios

This past weekend, MoMA presented a collaboration between electronic musician Daniel Lopatin—who records under the moniker Oneohtrix Point Never—and video artist Nate Boyce, as part of its PopRally series of art parties. While not an overly serious gathering, Boyce and Lopatin delivered an hour of strobing, structuralist-minded imagery over relentless digital throbbing. Each of the work’s sections was based upon a specific object in the MoMA’s sculpture collection and the overarching title, Reliquary House, suggested a congratulatory pat on the back for the museum. PopRally events are more often than not thematically connected to what’s concurrently on MoMA’s walls, while in this case the institution’s history was the tie-in.

The video screen displayed 3-D renderings of modernist forms by Isamo Noguchi, David Smith, Jacob Epstein, and Anthony Caro, which gyrated in “impossible” landscapes evoking the Panopticon look of the music video to Nine Inch Nail’s “Down In It.” To clarify their intention, Lopatin began each movement with details of the image being projected—dates, dimensions, curatorial texts—dictated by robotic voices a la Siri and the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Within the foreboding visual environment, these came off as provocations of a sort, which gave way to beds of digital glitches and rollicking bass oscillations, positing a bleak underbelly to the neutrality of the subject material. Boyce and Lopatin, who often communicate a sense of humor about the austerity of contemporary tools and approaches in their work, perplexed the droll audience, who perhaps expected Lopatin to perform the angelic synthesizer music indicative of his latest record, Replica. Boyce and Lopatin stood ground side-by-side, facing their laptops, but more often were caught gazing up at the video screen.

Lopatin’s other recent art project, a zine ...