Update Lucy In the Sky With Darrell: Actualism Part 2
| Lucy In the Sky With Darrell |
Part 2 A History of Actualism In Iowa City Poetry City On October 10, 1975, I wrote a poem on a sheet of paper wrapping a city block. Forty-seven businesses gave their permission to cover their store fronts for the poem. Numerous actors and performers accompanied me around the block--Duck’s Breath Mystery Theater, The Sugar Plum Fairies, The Eulenspiegel Puppet Theater, and many others. As the day progressed, I knew that the greatest marathon of all was unrolling around the block, waiting for words, and waiting for a surpirse. Now, 26 years later, I realize how right I was. So many things happened during those wonderful, irreplaceable hours! In the days after the marathon, I wrote--in marathon fashion--a memoir about the event itself. It was a living dream show. I wanted to capture it on paper. Otherwise, it would it sink in the quicksand of consciousness till reaching oblivion. [Insert Drawing #13] * Dr. Alphabet, David Morice of Iowa City, began a poem that eventually stretched around a city block. (Staff Photo) And the Poetry Seemed to Run Around Town By Miriam Brooks Iowa City Correspondent For Quad-City Times Davenport-Bettendorf, Ia. Fri., Oct. 10, 1975 IOWA CITY, Iowa – “And here he is, ladies and gentlemen: Dr. Alphabet!” Out of Lind’s Art Supply Store here popped a tall smiling man wearing white pants, a white T-shirt and a huge white top hat, all covered with bright-colored letters of the alphabet. It was David Morice, an Iowa City writer who is well-known here for his “writing marathons,” in which he has written a poem a mile long at a local book store and created fiction in public on the spot for an entire day. Thursday’s event was a poetry marathon held as part of Iowa City’s week-long dedication of the new pieces of sculpture decorating the city streets and mini-parks. Morice’s task, which he called “word sculpture,” was to write a poem on a continuous piece of paper attached to the buildings that make up a full square block of the downtown shopping area adjacent to the U of I campus. Morice, who has earned a Masters degree in the Writer’s Workshop here, said he did not prepare ahead of time for the marathon. “I just write as I go along,” he said, and estimated that the job would last about six hours. “I’m doing this for fun,” he said. “And I’m doing it now because I wanted to do it before winter comes and it also is part of the sculpture dedication festival.” Morice, who has been calling himself “Dr. Alphabet” for about two years, also was distributing buttons to the crowd that proclaimed Iowa City to be “Poetry City, U.S.A.” “I’ve thought of Iowa City as being Poetry City for several years,” he said, “because there are so many poets and writers here.” To kick off the Marathon, Iowa City poet Joyce Holland led the crowd in the “Poetry Cheer” and the “Alphabet National Anthem” (the letters of the alphabet sang to the tune of the national anthem), and then Morice began writing. And during it all, a sidewalk puppet show was being performed by the Eulenspiegel Puppeteers and musical acts, plays and variety acts accompanied Morice on his route around the block. Dr. Alphabet clearly was having a good time writing with a felt tip pen attached to his white “alphabet cane” but admitted that the job was taking him longer than expected because so many people interrupted him to talk. “I can’t write and talk at the same time,” he said. “But that’s okay, I’ll just keep going till I’m finished.” * A rational oasis Dr. Alphabet (the former Dave Morice) wrote another epic yesterday in downtown Poetry City (the former Iowa City). This time the poem was a square block long, written on paper taped to the façade of 47 stores. Dr. Alphabet was preceded by the Sugar Plum Fairies (of which two are shown above) who, according to one witness, appeared out of nowhere. * Elderly ‘critic’ rips block-long poem By LARRY ECKHOLT Register Staff Writer Des Moines Register Fri., Oct 10, 1974 Iowa City, IA. – An elderly vandal – or literary critic – Thursday ruined poet David Morice’s dream of seeing in an entire city block wrapped up in Morice’s extemporaneous poetry. At noon Thursday Morice had begun writing his “Word Sculpture” on a nearly continuous strip of paper that had been taped to the downtown buildings bordered by Dubuque, Iowa, Clinton and Washington Streets in the heart of Iowa City. Rips Section Morice was in the process of writing the final third of his latest opus when a man, who appeared to be about 70, began ripping to shreds the portion of the poem at the corner of Iowa Book and Supply Co., across from the University of Iowa Pentacrest. “This is a bunch of’ B.S.,” said the man as he tore up Morice’s poem. People who had been watching Morice write, pleaded with the man to stop, but he just kept ripping. The poetry event kicked off a three-day sculpture festival here that will culminate &nb |