NOT LITERATURE+

APHANTASIA >

The poems of this cycle present psychological phenomena akin to echolalia, revealing the mysterious, post-verbal functioning of language, devoid of images.
These blind visions free ancient verse forms from the prison of archaism, letting antique rhythms merge with the beat of everyday speech and the frame of thought of psychological terminology.

E O A I A >

Riddle poetry, the several hundred year old visual art form, meets contemporary design. The meaning of the poems lies in witty typographical games, their reading becomes at once meditation and brain teasing activity. Eye gymnastics.
Instead of rhyme and rhythm, a new verse form is born: new consonants are inserted among the vowels of poems written by predecessor poets. In this letter-pecking exercise, nine designers collaborated with e e o o á o –– and now the reader can join forces, similarly looking for meaning hiding among the letters.

THE PINE MARTEN WHO YOU ARE SPLITS A DUCK EMBRYO >

This robust prose poem, closing the book as a shell, recounts tragic family stories from a child’s point of view, in which the character of the mother, father and child resemble exotic animals.

„Dad, I love you, like a child does their mother: someone belonging to another species.”

THE SEVENTH SIN. Opening a dispute about metrical verse >

Hungarian literature has been on the wrong track for 250 years. Poems based on the rhythm of the alternation of short and long syllables display the same syntactic errors in the works of contemporary authors as well as in those of the Age of Neology.
The obnoxious and deadpan document that opens the dispute doesn’t let sleeping dogs lie, and announces its claim to the use of a different metrical verse. But it doesn’t build castles in the air: this new ideal of poetry is supposed to be embodied in the poems of Aphantasia.

not musiC+

ECHOLALIA EP >

LYRAUDIO

Modeo, a contemporary creator of polyrhythmic techno who specializes in wide-screen sound visuals, builds upon six poems of the collection. Through his dark and noisy atmospheres the family story and the philosophy of echo gain a cosmic dimension.

Echolalia EP is the perfect symbiosis: sound was conceived in the body of the text, and the latter was transformed to be able to carry and deliver it. Not literature and not music – and yet: it is organised by linguistic meaning, and driven by sound art. This is LYRAUDIO.

TRACKLIST

MOTHER

procession of mother > 2:28

language is a species > 3:12

heard > 3:20

FATHER

echology > 4:08

outwardly you are > 4:24

sondadmum > 3:12

PROCESSION OF MOTHER

[…] I don’t know where you are really, for I have swallowed a lot of you. Mother, the supply of matter of our planet is relatively enclosed. The extruded dust of the stars swirls on the Earth the same way as you do among my teeth, no new material is produced, only the components of the old are exchanged in the living. You’d carried me without knowing that parts of your body hold hundreds of great-greats, horsetails and ancient saurians, and the vegetables grown on the waste found in the owl-split of insects eating the decomposed parts of the snapdragon fed with the ash of the grey willow blossoming on the cadaver of the snub-beaked pied avocet putrefied in the marshland. […]

LANGUAGE IS A SPECIES

The Isopoda enters through the lamelliform gill. Mother, as a dead person you’re like the red perch the crayfish lives in. You’d embraced silence, for with the three pairs of my perching feet I embed myself and consume your tongue – I lodge myself into its stump to never again separate. A whole life will be a whole organ of yours. […]

OUTWARDLY YOU ARE

Dad, I love you
Like a child does their mother:
Someone belonging to another species.

Dad, you never knew which way of the phylogenesis to choose, to become a sea cucumber or a star. Mother became a pearl fish at the hospice, a gauche symbiote, and you, the cucumber did extrude your whole, water-pumping bowel tube with mother herself, when you blamed her for the cancer grown by induced abortion. Then, not finding the right road in the long talk, you became a sea star after all […]

SONDADMUM

[…] You’ve become so enamoured with me that you’ve grown to be a tumour-like sack on the cancer. You, the tumour are the one who sucks up the most part of my nutrient liquids, and what remains is only enough for me not to perish. Dadmum, you root-headed, you overthrow my hormone balance: my abdomen is widening to become similar to that of females. And you can also get me to dance their typical bridal dance. You open up a tiny crack on my back, where the male root-headed will set himself, and you couple on my genitals. At the place where I would – if I were a girl that I am – hatch my eggs, for I’ve mastered the nursing of spawns, against memory, in favour of love, looking after your eggs as if they were my own. The population, of which I’m the infected three-quarters, is its dad’s sonmum. I myself will be non-continuable, a neuter species that doesn’t carry anything else […]

LYRAUDIO MANIFESTO >

> My letter – as soul –, you sound in me bodily.

>> An electronic music album with fresh soundscapes, based on contemporary poetry, in which music and text shape each other in a mutual fashion, transcends the concept of setting something to music, and results in a pioneering project in Hungarian culture.

>>> Echolalia EP is a real fusion: not literature and not music – and yet: it is organised by linguistic meaning, and driven by sound art.

>>>> There exists an echotone preceding language.

>>>>-> By means of this fusion we chart the way spoken poems become meaningful musical noise.

>>>>->> This is lyraudio.

>>>>->>> The sound language of Echolalia EP is made up of sounds specifically collected for this project. Through the transformation of these we are exploring how technorganic music can come into being – an interstitial modality which does not favour artificial influence, nor natural sounds.

>>>>->>>> For the echo is half human, half non-human – the (recurring) noise can only be decoded as echo by the human mind.

>>>>->>>>-> There exists a languechotone.

NOT WRITERS

Ákos Kele Fodor > Poet, playwright, editor. Works at the Transylvanian Troupe as a writer, at the literary journal Eső as a member of the editorial board, and was a founding member of the film art journal Prizma. In 2011 he received the Attila Gérecz Award for his poetry book Textolátria.

During the writing of the poems and designing of the visual verses for Echolalia he received the Zsigmond Móricz Fellowship and a scholarship from the Directorate of the National Cultural Fund of Hungary.