ESSAYS and REVIEWS
"Ad Minoliti: G.S.F.C. (Geometrical Sci-Fi Cyborg)" at Cherry and Martin, Los Angeles (Brooklyn Rail, October 2017)
"Jimmie Durham: At the Center of the World" at the Hammer Museum, Los Angeles (Brooklyn Rail, May 2017)
"Agnieszka Polska: Little Planet" at Overduin & Co., Los Angeles (Brooklyn Rail, March 2017)
"Blake Rayne: Proposing Painting as a Refusal" (Hyperallergic, February 2017)
"Mal Maison" at Maccarone (Modern Painters, October/November 2016)
"Future Fossil, Other Vessel" (Brooklyn Rail, June 2016)
Benjamin Tiven: A Third Version of the Imaginary (Flatlanders, May 18, 2016)
"How Do We Sleep When the Future is Melting? Sarah Braman: You Are Everything" (Brooklyn Rail, May 3, 2016)
"I'll Stick With Exactly What I Said: on Slavs and Tartars' Mirrors for Princes" (Brooklyn Rail, April 2016)
On "Time-Image" at the Blaffer Museum (Modern Painters, January 2016)
On Ruth Root at Andrew Kreps (Brooklyn Rail, 2015)
On Rita Ackerman's "Picnic" (Brooklyn Rail/Surviving Sandy, 2014)
On Jackson MacLow's Doings (Octopus Magazine, 2009)
Drive-In I (2015)
Drive-In II (2015)
Shearsman Books, 2008
"As in The Concerto Form, Forget Reading testifies to Anthony Hawley’s perfect vocalic pitch, the ability few poets have to find precisely the right 'note' — whether syllable, word, or echoing phrase — to give his densely woven and arresting imagery a true electric charge. ‘Shampoo too,' reads one of the ‘P(r)etty Sonnets,' "measures how clean the sentence is." Yes, and who else could get so much mileage ("specimen rays") from rhyming "maybe" with "garbage'? These are lyrics, not to read but to reread—and with the intensest pleasure."
"The glibly ironic voice of these poems admonishes us to “forget reading,” forget poetry, forget anything less appealing to the (American) public than more and more news of Anna Nicole Smith’s death. “Poem can’t parade and no one holds it / up to the light or usually for too long,” it says, confirming poetry’s supposed inconsequentiality. But the poems speak up despite themselves, and in doing so they affirm poetry’s slight, subterranean power inside a culture of overwhelming and decadent ugliness, one made up of “the negligent droves” who inhabit a “never ending western.” Inside the beast itself, “a poem…/ does a thing, does a jig and slides / a circus of information / out the body.” Due to the very odds stacked against them, these beautifully moving poems enact a radical little protest, unheeded by the majority rule, yes, but also utterly unchecked.”
— Laura Sims
Counterpath Press, 2008
Through two series of poems, AUTOBIOGRAPHY/OUGHTABIOGRAPHY explores tensions between memory, erasure, writing and the self. The title sequence tracks a speaking voice as it works through shards of its past, questioning and, at times, undermining the autobiographical act, at once battling and perpetuating its own disappearance. With the second series, "Apple Silence," the already unstable speaking self becomes increasingly fragmented, deformed.
The Concerto Form
Shearman Books, 2006
"The poems in The Concerto Form are made of close harmonies and intimate elisions as taut as the strings of a violin; their muted, contracted sonorities seem to vibrate with a desire to find solace in the grammar of perception. If it is true that the world and its landscapes are "already written a thousand times over by our gaze" then Anthony Hawley reforms both gaze and landscape into an indelible music."
"In taut lines, tight phrasing, Anthony Hawley conducts a physical sounding of an acute reality and its music. In this way The Concerto Form speaks and sings and generously enlarges the known to include the deep tone and wondrous pitch of a world."
"With The Concerto Form, Anthony Hawley joins that international company of exploratory poets who celebrate at once the fugitive music and the mysteries of the tangible world. With great formal range, he addresses the here/not here, the vibrating strings of things as they are. "All in the eye's reach," as he declares. And the ear's."
"Anthony Hawley 'begins each tale practicing cartography, charting the narrative of tendrils.' The poems in this collection are above all adeptly heard, framing landscape and mindscape and the way each suffuses the other. Often invoking 'distance,' Hawley employs this distance as a musical strategy that frames and translates presence, slipping in—internal and intimate—by subtle degrees 'wind's/steady severance of spirit the way it/clutches then/unlocks a body.' The Concerto Form creates a refreshed phenomenology, blending melody and affective insight, demonstrating how to 'make a fossil/of your own writing with earth oil resin and solubles/wrung from the body's interior.'