Oftentimes, when I go to a poetry reading to showcase or read aloud my work, I introduce myself as a transdisciplinary writer and educator. "But what is a transdisciplinary writer or a transdisciplinary poet, for that matter?" you may ask. 

A transdisciplinary poet, in a nutshell, is a poet who works across and beyond the boundaries of different disciplines. Those disciplines can be art, science, philosophy, ecology, or social science, to name just a few. The transdisciplinary poet may use various forms, media, languages, and modes of expression to create poetry that explores complex and emergent issues. They may also collaborate with other poets, artists, and practitioners from different disciplines and backgrounds to create interdisciplinary and cross-cultural dialogues that, ultimately, become poetic projects.

And if you are wondering about the difference between interdisciplinary and transdisciplinary, well, it is quite easy. The former keeps the boundaries of each discipline intact, looking for connections that can enrich each field. While simply put, the latter seeks to transcend the norms of individual disciplines to create new knowledge. 

There are several examples out there for transdisciplinary poetry, and I will make sure to list those at the end of this post -or if you are bored already, you can skip to that; don't worry, I won't take it personally, I get easily bored too.

In my personal work, and for those who know me without the need to stick your nose into my CV, some examples of transdisciplinary poetry practices are my performances, sometimes aiming closer to the visual arts, like "El poema" (1), and others, falling more along the lines of a play, such as "Esto no es un huevo es la muerte de la gallina" (2). Other examples come from media art, like the installation "Entre líneas" (3) or the net-art project CubaFakeNews (4). And in the form of a more conventional output, my ASCII (5) visual poetry, and the artist book/poetry collection/art project Hay palabras vulva (6), affectionately known as "the vulva book," where besides visual poetry and the ekphrastic (7) poem Destejido, there is a call for a global female intervention (do not panic, men, it sounds grandiloquent but it is actually a collaborative intervention that runs on photography, ASCII, and women's biographical writing).


Documenta, 2022. Photo by David D Omni.

Needless to say, since I am not just a poet but a writer, which accounts for fiction as well as other scribbling adventures, I also reserve some of my transdisciplinary impetus for prose. In "Exercising the Productive Einbildungskraf" (8), I work in the interstices between the short story and the play script. My novel Tim sin Tina, on the other hand -finishing this year, but still in progress, so no spoilers here- displays several genres to cover a variety of voices and time frames. 

And yes, down below, alongside the transdisciplinary poetry not authored by me, I will list as well some of my favorite examples for prose. 

Well, I hope you get it by now, and as I reach the end of this post, I will say that there are some transdisciplinary practices that I have yet to explore, such as cut-up writing, collage poetry, found poetry, or erasure literature. Maybe I'll try those in the future. For now, I am catching up with sound poetry and multimedia poetry -after all, I did not go through a DJ course in Havana or write a dissertation on the impact of digital technology in 21st-century Cuban literature just for nothing. 

One of these days, I may write another post where I do not talk about my own but the work of others, just for the fun of it. As you may already know, there is a hopeless bookworm behind every writer, and believe me, distinguished readers, I am not the exception. 

Until then, or that other phrase that I like to use and any respectable reader should know, Hasta pronto.


Some examples of transdisciplinary writers here:


Poetry, a couple of classics first:

Poetry, now the more recent examples:

Prose, first, the classics:

  • The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin: A classic science fiction novel that depicts a planet where the inhabitants are ambisexual, meaning they can change their sex depending on their hormonal cycles. The novel uses anthropology, sociology, psychology, and ecology to create a rich and diverse world.

  • The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes. A nonfiction book that won the Pulitzer Prize in 1988. The book chronicles the History of the development of nuclear weapons, from the discovery of nuclear fission to the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The book combines science, History, biography, politics, and ethics for a comprehensive and compelling narrative.

Prose, now the most recent, folks:

Some queer examples, because we all need those:


Other transdisciplinary projects can be visited at the Revista Desliz archives, courtesy of Rialta


Notes

  1. “El poema” (performance). Torre de Letras, Havana, June 15, 2007

  2.  “Esto no es un huevo es la muerte de la gallina” (performance, in collaboration with Andrés X). Festival de performances de Alamar, Havana, August 16, 2004

  3. “Entre líneas” (exhibition, several installation pieces). Casa de la Poesía, Havana October 15-November 15, 2004

  4. CubaFakeNews (collaborative online newspaper). Internet, Havana, March, 2009.

  5. ASCII art: ASCII (American Standard Code for Information Interchange). Established by the American National Standards Institute (ANSI) in the 1960s, ASCII code is a standardized way of presenting and reading Latin-based alphanumeric keyboard characters. ASCII art creates images using this set of characters. The final result, as an image made out of text, can be as complex -or as simple- as you desire it to be.

  6. Hay palabras vulva (Editorial Casa Vacía, 2023)

  7. Ekphrastic poetry: Poetry that responds to or describes another work of art.

  8. “Exercising the Productive Einbildungskraf” (short story: English). Margaret Randall (translator), The Oval Portrait: Contemporary Cuban Women Writers and Artists (Ed. Soleida Ríos,  Wings Press, 2018)



Ooo, sí; no tengo dudas. La poesía debe escribirse como prosa. Debe ser novelada. Debe pasar a ser materia viva. Debe, en suma, colarse en la ficción, salirse del poemario.

También debe salirse del libro.

Si coincidimos en que un poema es más político que una novela o un cuento (y esto es tema para otro post), su política se ve sin embargo reducida, o más bien confinada, al círculo de lectores de la élite letrada en la que además, los lectores de poesía son unos pocos.

La poesía, como poesía, no sirve para nada.

Todavía una novela sale, se despliega entre las manos de gente desconocida, ve rumiar y agrietar su cuerpo entre la multitud. Salvo la suerte de ceremonia de culto que es una reunión de spoken word, la poesía no experimenta, por lo general, nada parecido. Si tiene suerte, el texto-poema irá a parar al Festival de Medellín o a las manos de un oscuro crítico o estudioso que le trasvasará a otro oscuro medio de prensa para iniciados o a lectores de tesis académicas.

El poema debe convertirse en la nueva novela.

La novela debe recibir al poema como paradigma.

El poema ganará lectores. La novela verá su dimensión política crecer. Hoy la manera de ser político es arropando la circunstancia personal, leyendo en público la experiencia como un mantra que conjura la estandarización. (O hablando en jerga: la subjetividad menor, llamar a una huelga de la literatura domesticada por el capitalismo tardío.)

La poesía debe convertir a la novela en un largo, profuso poema en prosa.

La nueva novela debería poder ser leída en público, gritada en público, susurrada a los oídos de desconocidos en el metro de New York o en las estaciones de policía de La Habana.

La poesía debería poder descargarse en mp3, pasarse de mano en mano en mp3, ser reeditada en mp3. Esta poesía debería poder agarrar a un coro de niños y/o de mujeres y/o de negros y/o de viejos y decir: "vengan acá, que les voy a contar una historia..."

Finalmente, hay que decirlo, la nueva novela-poema debería poder ser "representada" como performance. El teatro es la más política de las artes, decía Arendt. En su descripción del rol del teatro, uno puede leer/ver/escuchar la representación de una pieza en la plaza pública. Polis y teatro son indisolubles, parece que dice. El público es el final de la obra y es en el espacio público que la obra adquiere o no su sentido de trascendencia.

Una propuesta: si el texto que has escrito puede ser leído en el sidewalk o en la acera del barrio sin que tú y/o los transeuntes se conmuevan, vuelve a entrar a casa.

Regresa al retrete.

Arroja esa hojita de papel por el caño.

Permiso.



Este libro reúne catorce ensayos en torno a la producción cultural de la ciudad latinoamericana contemporánea: ciudades caóticas cuyo ideal de orden se ha fragmentado y en las que los muros de la ciudad letrada se han vuelto porosos. Las nuevas y múltiples rutas urbanas –que se superponen, se cruzan y se chocan entre sí– son las que escriben la ciudad postmoderna. La escritura muestra las diferentes formas de intervención en la polis y el imaginario urbano se nutre tanto de las ciudades póstumas como de los primeros contornos de las futuras. Cartografías recreadas en novelas actuales, performances en Sao Paulo y Santiago de Chile, la poesía en voz alta de la Ciudad de México, novelas testimoniales de la violencia y de la migración en Medellín y Lima, blogs de La Habana o San Juan son algunas de las realizaciones concretas de lo que se analiza en este libro. Todo ello confluye bajo la premisa que lo organiza, esto es, cómo la comunidad que viene procura su sentido desde un tiempo incierto en cuanto a pertenencia e identidad.

Nanne Timmer es Profesor Adjunto de Literatura Latinoamericana y Análisis cultural en la Universidad de Leiden.

Las tablas de contenido y el Capítulo 1(Pdf).

ISBN 978 90 8728 189 2 tapa blanda | 312 pp. | español | €34.95 / £27.50 / $45 | €27 / £22 / $ 35



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How does the future community search for its significance in precarious times in terms of affinity and identity? This question is explored in fourteen essays on the cultural output of the contemporary Latin American city: chaotic cities where the ideal of order has become fragmented, and where the walls of the literary city have become porous. The new and multiple urban routes – which superpose and cross each other – create the image of the postmodern city. Written culture shows different forms of intervention in the city, and the urban imagery nourishes itself from the perished city as well as from the first contours of the cities of the future. Recreated cartographies in novels, performances in São Paulo and Santiago de Chile, performance poetry in Mexico D.F., testimonies of violence and of migration in Medellín and Lima, blogs from virtual communities of Havanna and San Juan, are just some of these kinds of chronicles analyzed in this perceptive study.  
Nanne Timmer is Assistant Professor of Latin American Literature and Cultural Analysis at Leiden University.

Download the Table of Contents and Chapter 1(Pdf).

Isbn 978 908 72 8189 2 | 312 pages, Paperback | Spanish | regular price € 34.95 / £27.50 / $45  |  Now €27 / £22 / $ 35
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