Laylage Courie is a writer and theater maker. She's all about imagery: in language, not on screens. She has performed her quintessential mix of extended voice work, spare physicality, and beautiful words all over New York, in New Orleans, Atlanta, and abroad.
Each of the 50 stanzas from Wallace Stevens' enigmatic, philosophic, often witty poem about mortality is recited as a miniature grave is "decorated" with broken teapots, rusty spoons, found and constructed bits of debris.
I, Marlena is a power-point lecture with a film score composed by Dan Nettles and played by his band Kenosha Kid. The lecture traces Marlena's last night in the office--an eccentric, destructive, erotic escapade involving potted plants, lipstick, emptied water jugs, and cryptic post-it notes...
"Swell Henry" is a tale of spiritual vertigo at one of the world's highest places. Astonishing imagery and spare physicality transform the proverbial "lonely man at the bar" into someone extraordinary.
Swell Henry is also a CD by downtown ensemble Yeah NO. The text was written as an improvisatory exercise from the music.
Recorded May 31, 2008 by Valerie Greene at Dance New Amsterdam as part of Uptown/Downtown.
After you've finished here, you may like to hear this poem sung on myspace...
Poem 2 of 230, WalkaboutsVerse (please see my blog): WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN
Once drove an old sedan, up north, From a place in Sydney to Cairns; Then to Kuranda I went forth, By train, to look without set plans.
I browsed through the trendy market, With fresh fruits of tropical kind; Walked to the creek through lush thicket - Nature’s hand giving peace of mind.
I dined in a scenic cafe; Then, outside, as I wrote for yen, Some passing Kooris called-out: “Hey, You go walkabout with your pen.”
Request or question, I don’t know - Assured voices, elderly men. That’s now several years ago, And I’ve seen the world - with my pen.
After you've finished here, you may like to hear this lay/poem-come-song on myspace -
2 of 230, walkaboutsverse.741.com: WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN
Once drove an old sedan, up north, From a place in Sydney to Cairns; Then to Kuranda I went forth, By train, to look without set plans.
I browsed through the trendy market, With fresh fruits of tropical kind; Walked to the creek through lush thicket - Nature’s hand giving peace of mind.
I dined in a scenic cafe; Then, outside, as I wrote for yen, Some passing Kooris called-out: “Hey, You go walkabout with your pen.”
Request or question, I don’t know - Assured voices, elderly men. That’s now several years ago, And I’ve seen the world - with my pen.
oh, that is a tasty morsal of an exchange. Where will it be performed, and when? I will come for it. Me, I'm working on keeping my waistline in check and trying to find like-minded peoples to talk, work and play with. It's sticky here now and the thunder rolls through as often as the sun rises. It's quite spectacular and frightening all at once.
Laylage Courie is a writer and theater maker. She's all about imagery: in language, not on screens. She has performed her quintessential mix of extended voice work, spare physicality, and beautiful words all over New York, in New Orleans, Atlanta, and abroad.
