Tag Archives: Wassily Kandinsky

New prints & books from The Caseroom Press

Some new publications from The Caseroom Press, designed and printed by Barrie Tullett.

There are two prints of individual poems, both published but uncollected.

I wrote ‘Hands’ in 2014, when I was working for the first time in care homes; it’s based partly on what residents told me they’d used their hands for, and partly on my own experiences and memories.

‘Close’ dates from 1996; it’s a poem I put aside, but I rediscovered it when I used it for a poetry walk a few years ago, and now I’m very fond of it. It’s a moment that’s long passed – my daughter has grown up, the ‘newspapermen’ have gone and buses no longer run along that stretch of the Mile – so in it’s way it’s become a historical document.

There are also two books – a single-poem artist’s book, and a little Edinburgh anthology.

Позже / Später / Later features a single poem by Wassily Kandinsky from his 1913 book Klänge. It’s the second in an ongoing series from The Caseroom Press – the first was Гимн / Hymnus / Hymn, published in 2022. This post from the time shows that book, and gives some background about Kandinsky’s book and the current project.

Wale comprises my selection of quotes about Edinburgh from over the centuries. The title is from Robert Fergusson – ‘Auld Reikie, wale o ika toun / That Scotland kens beneath the moon!’, ‘wale’ meaning the choice, the pick, the best. The cover image shows a detail from the paving outside the Scottish parliament building.

If you’d like copies of any of these, please get in touch via the Contact page.

‘Hands’, A3, £10
‘Close’, A4, £5
Wale, 107x107mm, £5
Позже / Später / Later, 220x220mm, £20
P&P will be added to the above prices.

Kandinsky’s Hymn (1913 / 2022)

In June I was contacted by my friend Barrie Tullett. His wife Jantze had “an idea to illustrate a poem (or three) by Wassily Kandinsky, from his book Klänge, which was published in 1913”. I was asked to translate the eight-line poem from the German, which I did, and recently they sent me a copy of the finished article, a book featuring one line of the poem (in Russian, German and English), with illustrations, on each page-spread. You can read more about it here.

Apparently Kandinsky originally wrote the texts in Russian, but then found a German publisher, so translated them himself. The idea was that after the German edition, they’d make a Russian one – but the German edition didn’t sell, so it never happened.

This is the complete eight-line poem in German, followed by my translation (in which I’ve prioritised the rhythm, and to a lesser extent the rhymes):

Innen wiegt die blaue Woge.
Das zerrissne rote Tuch
Rote Fetzen. Blaue Wellen.
Das verschlossne alte Buch.
Schauen schweigend in die Ferne.
Dunkles Irren in den Wald.
Tiefer werden blaue Wellen.
Rotes Tuch versinkt nun bald.

Within the breaker blue is swaying.
Cloth that’s red is ripped and torn.
Red is shredded. Blue is wavey.
Padlocked shut the book that’s old.
Silent look into the distance.
Err in darkness in the woods.
Deeper darkens blue that’s wavey.
Cloth that’s red will sink down soon.

You can see the pages of the original if you search for ‘Klänge’ here.

There is a recent edition of the woodcuts available on issuu.

And if you want a bit of background, there is always wikipedia.