The SpokenWeb Podcast

The Night of the Living Archive

Episode Summary

What better way to understand the archival state of a poem than to ask it? “The Night of the Living Archive” is an audio drama/mock interview between research assistant Liza Makarova and Fred Wah’s poems Mountain (1967), Limestone Lakes Utaniki (1987, 1989, and 1991), and Don’t Cut Me Down (1972), which currently live in the Fred Wah Digital Archive (fredwah.ca).

Episode Notes

“The Night of the Living Archive” is an audio drama/mock interview between research assistant Liza Makarova and Fred Wah’s poems Mountain (1967), Limestone Lakes Utaniki (1987, 1989, and 1991), and Don’t Cut Me Down (1972), which currently live in the Fred Wah Digital Archive (fredwah.ca). 

Poems within the archive are independent documents that live incredibly interesting lives that are celebrated within this episode. Over a series of three interviews, Liza invites these poems, drifting in “the Great Universal Archive,” to speak about their existence in the digital realm. These poems are given the opportunity to speak their minds  on topics such as how digital archives are treated, the poems’ complex histories, and their relationships with each other on a literal and literary level.

This episode will also present excerpts of Fred Wah’s archive of audio recordings, ranging from his 1979 Poetry Reading Series to an interview which aired at a literary arts radio show in Calgary. As an artist, educator, and writer, Wah has built an incredible social network throughout generations through his poetry, which has the capacity to tell its own story.

SpokenWeb is a monthly podcast produced by the SpokenWeb team as part of distributing the audio collected from (and created using) Canadian Literary archival recordings found at universities across Canada. To find out more about Spokenweb visit: spokenweb.ca . If you love us, let us know! Rate us and leave a comment on Apple Podcasts or say hi on our social media @SpokenWebCanada.

 

Episode Producer:

kurichkaaa (liza makarova) is an interdisciplinary artist, experimental playwright, and poet currently based on earth. kurichkaaa writes about love and grief, lesbians and communism, and how to empower people to feel hopeful about the future. they have read for the flywheel reading series by the literary magazine filling Station and will soon be published in The Capilano Review. They are in the process of developing a script with Playwright’s Workshop Montreal.

 

Works Cited:

In For Instance Radio Show: Literary Arts Program Interviewing Fred Wah, https://fredwah.ca/node/431

Poetry Reading - March 8, 1979, https://new.fredwah.ca/node/438

Fred Wah: Classroom Conversation on March 9, 1979

Wah, Fred. Mountain. Buffalo, NY: Audit/East-West, 1967. Print.

https://fredwah.ca/content/mountain

Wah, Fred. Limestone Lakes Utaniki. Red Deer, AB: Red Deer College P, 1989. Print.

https://fredwah.ca/content/limestone-lakes-utaniki

Wah, Fred."Limestone Lakes Utaniki." Karabiner: the Journal of the Kootenay Mountaineering Club 30 (1987): 9-12. Print. https://fredwah.ca/content/karabiner-journal-kootenay-mountaineering-club-30

Wah, Fred. “Limestone Lakes Utaniki” So Far. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1991. Print.

https://fredwah.ca/content/so-far

Wah, Fred. “Don’t Cut Me Down” Tree. Vancouver: Vancouver Community, 1972. Print.

https://fredwah.ca/content/tree

Episode Transcription

(00:04):

SpokenWeb Podcast Theme Music:

[Instrumental Overlapped With Feminine Voice] Can you hear me? I don't know how much projection to do here.

(00:19):

Katherine McLeod 

What does literature sound like? What stories will we hear if we listen to the archive? Welcome to the Spoken Web Podcast, stories about how literature sounds. [End music: SpokenWeb Podcast theme music]

My name is Katherine McLeod and each month I'll be bringing you different stories of Canadian literary history and our contemporary responses to it created by scholars, poets, students, and artists from across Canada. Do you ever wonder what a piece of literature is thinking? What better way to find out research assistant Liza Makarova realized, than to ask? 

And in this episode of the SpokenWeb podcast, Liza does exactly that. Three of Fred Wah’s works that live in the Fred Wah Digital Archive are given voice as Liza interviews them about their lives. Mountain from 1967, Limestones Lakes Utaniki from 1987, 1989 in 1991, and “Don't Cut Me Down” from Tree in 1972. What is a typical day in a digital literary archive? In this episode, Liza imagines how the preservation of a digital archive can impact the works that it holds and what the relationship between multiple versions of a work in an archive could look like and sound like. 

The episode cleverly and creatively examines the shape of print and digital archives and their preservation and engages in questions of textuality and performance. It dives into the lives of these literary works and how they have shifted and changed over time, and how they feel about this new age they live in. Our producer, Liza Makarova is an undergraduate student at Concordia University in the honors English and Creative Writing Program, and a research assistant on the SpokenWeb affiliated project, “Mapping social bibliography in the Fred Wah Digital Archive.” 

The Fred Wah Digital Archive is a bibliography and repository for the works of Canadian writer Fred Wah. This episode features archival audio of Wah and the voices of the students, researchers, and scholars on the “Aapping social bibliography in the Fred Wah Digital Archive” Project. Here is episode two of season four of the SpokenWeb Podcast, “The Night of the Living Archive.”

(03:25):

Archival Recording Fred Wah In Class Conservations - March 9,1979

[Sound Effect: Sound of a tape clicking shut] 

Steve Mccaffery, a Toronto sound poet, and I have been having discussions about the mutations or mutability of a poem. He is now writing poems which, at a certain point the poem reaches the page and he admits that: “okay at one stage in a poem’s life it belongs in a book or on a page in type, but there are further stages to that poem’s life.” [Sound Effect: Tape Clicking Shut]

(04:07):

Liza Makarova 

[Start Music: Upbeat Percussion] 

Hello, SpokenWeb Podcast listeners! My name is Liza and I am an RA for a Spoken Web-Affiliated Project called “Mapping Social Bibliography in the Fred Wah Digital Archive” led by the brilliant literary editor, researcher, Concordia doctoral candidate, and archivist, Deanna Fong. Fred Wah is an extraordinary experimental poet, professor, literary critic, editor, and community literary legend currently based in British Columbia but he has connections all throughout Western Canada. 

His poetry, prose, and scholarly work has been in circulation since the 1960s. Various researchers, developers, and academics have been involved with his digital archive, building off the work of Susan Rudy, who initially started the Fred Wah Digital Archive around 2006 after starting the paper archive in the late 80s/early 90s. Working on the archive of a writer who is still active is a curious and special thing. If we have a question about something or need more context, we can directly contact Fred for support. 

Plus, the archive is still growing as we add his recent collections. I used to think of an archive as something purely historical, out of date, a storage room. But ever since I started working on the Fred Wah Digital Archive I realized that archives are incredibly dynamic and ongoing spaces. I would even go as far as to say that most digital archives... [End Music:Upbeat Percussion] are living. //

I first noticed it when I was organizing a dataset in the backend of the site. I was having some trouble with finding older entries so I could update them, nothing was coming up when I was searching for a couple of his poems. I decided to refresh the page when all of a sudden I heard a voice. I thought I was hallucinating from too many all nighters but then I heard it again. “Hey! Don’t do that! We’re trying to bring our brother over from our old place. He’s stuck in the search box,” I looked and the site URL was replaced by the text for one of Fred’s poems called “Artknot 14”. 

I quickly copied and pasted him into a new entry and heard cries of joy from the reunion. They asked how they could repay me and I said by letting me interview a couple of them…for research. They said okay, if Fred said okay and Fred said okay as long as the poems get back before 8am the next day because they have a lecture to attend together. Today, I have the deepest honor and pleasure of speaking to three of Fred Wah’s collections and poems from the Digital Archive. First off, I would like to introduce Mountain, a collection of Wah’s poems from 1967.

(06:44):

Computerized Voice:

[Music Interlude: Synthesizer] Hello and welcome to the Fred Wah Digital Archive. Please sit closer to your device to proceed onto the liminal speaking platform.

(06:53):

Liza Makarova 

Uh, like this?

(06:55):

Computerized Voice:

Exactly. Who can I connect you with today, past, present, or future?

(07:00):

Liza Makarova 

I would like to speak to Mountain, please. From 1967.

(07:04):

Computerized Voice:

Understood. Mountain is now loading. [Sound Effect: Computer whirring]

(07:14):

Mountain

Uh, hello?

(07:16):

Liza Makarova 

Hello, and welcome to the podcast.

(07:18):

Mountain

Hello. Hello.

(07:20):

Liza Makarova 

Oh, what's up? How's it going?

(07:22):

Mountain

I've been good. Coasting. What about you?

(07:26):

Liza Makarova 

Yeah. Mm-hmm. Not much, but, but good. Okay. I'm just gonna jump right in. How long have you been in the archive?

(07:34):

Mountain

That's a difficult question.

(07:36):

Liza Makarova 

How so?

(07:37):

Mountain

What archive are you talking about?

(07:39):

Liza Makarova 

Oh, well, the Fred Wah Digital Archive.

(07:42):

Mountain

Ah, okay. You see, saying the archive without specifying which one usually signifies the whole universe.

(07:49):

Liza Makarova 

The archive is the whole universe?

(07:52):

Mountain

Precisely. As soon as something is made, even if it was just a second ago, it becomes part of the archive.

(07:59):

Liza Makarova 

The great universal archive. It seems vast and overwhelming.

(08:05):

Mountain

It is, but that's why you exist, right? To keep it all organized?

(08:10):

Liza Makarova 

Yeah, and I guess it is.

(08:12):

Mountain

Anyway, to answer your question, I've been around since the beginning of Fred's archive, but not the archive. Moving from platform to platform since 2008. Then in 2015, and now again in 2022.

(08:23):

Liza Makarova 

By platform you mean website, right?

(08:26):

Mountain

Mm-hmm. 

(08:27):

Liza Makarova 

What's it like in Drupal 9 in general, but also compared to previous platforms?

(08:33):

Mountain

So far it's not too much different from other places we've lived. Think of moving from a duplex to a townhouse.

(08:39):

Liza Makarova 

Interesting. What about the jump from Drupal 5 to Drupal 7?

(08:43):

Mountain

We call that period… [Ominous music starts and then ends] the dark times. The age of Link Rot.

(08:55):

Liza Makarova 

Link Rot? Can I ask what happened?

(09:00):

Mountain

November 6th, 2013. It was a Wednesday and we were getting quite a lot of visitors because of “Diamond Grill”, Fred's 1996, semi-fictional biography. Since everyone was trying to figure out that Lorde song by looking up the lyrics, “I've never seen a diamond in the flesh.” It was at the top of the charts, you know? That was our last normal day for a while. 

We noticed something was wrong right away after that, Susan Rudy, Darren Weshler, derek beaulieu, Bill Kennedy and a group of researchers like you were always active on the site. In fact, from 2009 to 2013, even the public could submit pitches and bibliographic material to the site. We became accustomed to this very caring community. We knew something was wrong when sections of the archives started to get dark. We literally could not see them. Poems, which were friends of ours, literally started to disappear. 

Nothing seemed to work properly and the quality of our space gradually decreased as no human was working on the archive at the time. By working, I mean what you humans call maintaining the site by updating it to the right versions of Drupal, editing data sets and uploading new ones. As our website link died, so did our connection to the digital ecosystem. We were lost in space and time. For a human it would be like if you were stranded and then your phone dies.

(10:16):

Liza Makarova 

And that's Link Rot? It almost sounds like a  loss of identity or not being able to properly take care of yourself.

(10:24):

Mountain

It's exactly that. But one day it all changed. We don't celebrate a lot of holidays over here at the Fred Wah Digital Archive, but we do celebrate the summer of 2014. [Calming, ethereal music begins] 

Suddenly two new users logged into the site and then a huge group of student researchers, archivists, and designers followed. After a month or so, we were launched onto a whole new platform.

(10:46):

Liza Makarova 

Well, yeah. Hearing  the project start up again in 2015 from your perspective is so special. I'm really touched. Thank you.

(10:54):

Mountain

Of course. We're very, very lucky to have been supported and taken care of for so long, and that there were people like Deanna Fong and Ryan Fitzpatrick who were able to get more funding and get us back on our URL. [Music ends]

It's hard to imagine the number of archives, especially ones about tracking social relationships in the literary world that go under. All of those fellow poems suddenly go dark and disappear.

(11:16):

Liza Makarova 

And why do you think that Fred Wah’s Digital Archive has lasted so long?

(11:21):

Mountain

Our versatility, our literary community, the longest breath of all.

(11:27):

Liza Makarova 

What was the best part about being rebooted?

(11:30):

Mountain

I would say the most special part was being reunited with collections who were still in the process of being digitized in 2013. Seeing them in the digital realm was miraculous.

(11:40):

Liza Makarova 

Aw, one big family reunion.

(11:43):

Mountain

Yes. It was such a happy but interesting day.

(11:47):

Liza Makarova 

Oh?

(11:48):

Mountain

Well, Fred wrote, recorded and performed new work while the archive was down. There were a lot of first time introductions to be made as this new work, which was very well received and known in the public, was unknown to us in the archive. Making space for them in Drupal 9 was easy though.

(12:04):

Liza Makarova 

You know, that's actually something the current team is working on right now.

(12:07):

Mountain

Oh, are you digitizing more archival material? 

(12:11):

Liza Makarova 

Yeah. Over the summer, the humans working on the archive went to Vancouver to work in the SFU Special Collections. We went over the digital archive and found what didn't have a cover or a textual scan, pulled it from the collections and scanned it. While we were there, we formally met the SFU Fred Wahl Archival human team and hosted a public talk about what it was like to work on a “so-called” living archive. We called the conversation “Mountain Many Voices: The Archival Sounds of Fred Wah.”

(12:39):

Mountain

How original [Mountain and Liza laugh] That's super sweet.

(12:44):

Liza Makarova 

Yeah, we mostly talked about Fred Wah’s audio fonds, which are a collection of his audio tapes and recordings. At the end of the trip, we brought home a lot of good memories, new scholarly knowledge, and a USB full of archival material.

(12:57):

Mountain

I'm looking forward to the reunion as well as a new design of the site. We've all been chatting about this a lot. I'm most excited for the audio recordings to get their own page. They do not respect after hours noise regulations. [Mountain and Liza laugh]

(13:12):

Liza Makarova 

Speaking about having a page of one's own, how does the way we organize the archive affect the relationships between the various poems on the site? Do you feel like being represented on separate pages/links isolates you from specific contexts?

(13:26):

Mountain

I mean, not really. We already represent different places and time periods depending on when we were created.

(13:32):

Liza Makarova 

Could you clarify what you mean by created? Do you mean when/where you were published or when/where you were written?

(13:40):

Mountain

Do you really think there's a difference? Where do you think we came from?

(13:45):

Liza Makarova 

I guess from Fred Wah, but the thing about his work, about you, I guess, is that his writing is really inspired and contextualized by the environments he grew up in. His Chinese Canadian heritage, the politics of the time and the social groups, he was, and still is a part of. 

I'm a writer myself, so I really like to compare it to the textual art of embroidery. You have this base, which is like a book website or even a single poem, and you're using all these threads that you've collected by living life to weave together these art forms. Oh, sorry. That was really long winded.

(14:22):

Mountain

Not at all. I quite miss the wind actually.

(14:30):

Liza Makarova 

[Liza blows into the mic to simulate the sound of wind blowing] Is this helping?

(14:32):

Mountain

It's the thought that counts. You're really making me think about my home and my fellow poems. We're all so different from each other, in conversation with each other, but also in comparison or reference to other pieces of art, music and writing. These influences can be hard to highlight in print, but the vastness of a digital archive creates a lot of space for these intimate connections to receive the attention they deserve.

(14:55):

Liza Makarova 

I would love to know more about what it's like in the actual digital space.

(14:58):

Mountain

Well, we live in a five story house. Each floor is labeled by sections A through E.

(15:04):

Liza Makarova 

Right. We call that the bibliography. For those who might want more clarification, a bibliography is essentially a list of everything a writer ever wrote. What are your thoughts on how you're currently organized?

(15:15):

Mountain

I really like it. It's what I'm used to, you know? Archival work has always kind of been a thing, but digital archival work is super new. Susan, as in Susan Rudy, started this digital archive with a team of researchers in 2006. Fred has always had an organizational system, so we got used to who we were surrounded with, who's in the neighborhood. Thankfully, Susan made sure that when we got digitized, the same system was put in place, hence our bibliography. [Soft warm music begins to play] 

I'll never forget the feeling of being scanned for the first time. I think you can imagine it as an x-ray. I'm pretty old, so I'm not used to any of those things. I thought that laser scanning would be the end of me, but instead it was the beginning.

(15:59):

Liza Makarova 

I can only imagine how that might have felt. [music ends] 

What about migrating? What is it like to migrate onto version 2.0? How did it feel?

(16:07):

Mountain

Kind of feels like a huge family road trip.

(16:10):

Liza Makarova 

Oh, that's really sweet.

(16:12):

Mountain

Yeah. Yeah. I'm pulling your leg. Assuming that it is pullable. It was quite a long process since we can't all just move at once. There are a lot of steps involved to make sure everything goes smoothly. Think of migrating from site to site like this. You're moving boxes from one shelf to another, but the other shelf has slightly different dimensions, so you have to make certain adjustments to make sure everything fits again. Then again, these spaces can be filled with new software updates that improve the overall functionality of the site. It's like moving into a bigger house, so now you have space for that vintage standing lamp you've always wanted.

(16:47):

Liza Makarova 

Wow. I just love hearing your thoughts on all this. As we discussed, digital archives are a really incredible tool to showcase and disseminate the oeuvre of writers who use multimedia such as audio, visual arts, and small press publishing. You mentioned earlier that due to the age of Link Rot, newer material didn't get on the site until a couple years after they were published, so I'm not quite sure who makes the calls inside the archive, if someone or something like that exists for you, but out here we have something called for-profit publishing companies.

(17:21):

Mountain

Hmm, Yes, the InPrint books or the LabuorLeaflets, if you're trying to be a part of the open source movement.

(17:28):

Liza Makarova 

The movement… [Liza hesitates before going on] [whispering]  Can we talk about this near a recording device?

(17:33):

Mountain

Of course. I think more people should know about this. Here in the archive, no one is in charge, no anthology name or chatbook is more important than the community that we make up. But it's true that outside of the archive, some work is still in print and therefore under institutional control.

(17:50):

Liza Makarova 

Right. We can't scan or upload anything still circulating for the public to purchase. Does that make you sad or feel anything in particular?

(18:00):

Mountain

It's simply a phase of our lives and the archive is hopefully the next.

(18:04):

Liza Makarova 

Would you consider the archive as your home at the moment?

(18:08):

Mountain

It's definitely not a permanent home. I don't think something like that exists for anything. Like for you, where would you consider home? Where you were born, where you grew up, where you are now, or where you'll end up? Like a retirement home. Nothing and no one stays somewhere forever, or at least a part of them is always somewhere else.

(18:28):

Liza Makarova 

Could you expand on what you mean by a part of them is always somewhere else? [Mountain sighs deeply] 

Oh, are you? Are you talking about, I don't know if I'm allowed to say this…

(18:42):

Mountain

Oh, just say it.

(18:43):

Liza Makarova 

Are you talking about your body?

(18:46):

Mountain

[Soft piano music begins to play] Yes. I miss it a little.

(18:50):

Liza Makarova 

Hardcover or paperback?

(18:53):

Mountain

Well, that's a little personal. [Music ends]

(18:54):

Liza Makarova 

I'm, I'm sorry. So your body, your physical presence on earth. Would you consider that your home? Okay. Maybe a better question would be what about the present digital archive feels like home compared to the physical one?

(19:07):

Mountain

The relationship is a little tense. I mean, my physical body is kept in a temperature controlled room in the Simon Fraser Special Collections. While my contents and consciousness have been bloated to a nebulous space. I really can't tell which is more permanent, the internet or the real world. What I like about being in a digital archive, that I hope you humans listening can also appreciate, is how open it is. There are no clear boundaries about where I start and where I end. 

Plus maintaining a literary archive in the real world can be a lot of work. I mean, I can only imagine how hard it is to keep 50 books open at the same time, or even worse, to never be opened again. In the digital space, we keep ourselves alive, always ready. There is no rest for the digital archival poem. The internet is a busy place. Sometimes it's nice to dissociate for a little and reconnect with my physical form. [Soft piano music begins to play] To feel the chill of my spine, to stretch out my pages when someone brushes by. Sadly, in a physical archive, I'm not relevant until someone needs something from me. [Music ends]

(20:15):

Liza Makarova 

That's not true. You're an artifact. You've survived so much. We don't need to be needed in order to be important. The fact that you still exist and people who didn't even exist in the sixties can interact with you is really special.

(20:30):

Mountain

Thank you for that. 

(20:31):

Liza Makarova 

Of course, I don't do this just because I like to keep the great universal archive organized. I'm also passionate about the preservation of literature.

(20:41):

Mountain

I actually have a question for you now.

(20:43):

Liza Makarova 

Okay. Go ahead.

(20:44):

Mountain

Why do you have to put our dimensions and everything up on the digital archive? Do people really need to know how much I weigh, and how truthful is it to say that I'm 22 pages long when the PDF actually compresses me down to 20?

(20:57):

Liza Makarova 

Well, that's metadata.

(20:58):

Mountain

Data can be existential.

(21:00):

Liza Makarova 

No, it's data about data.

(21:02):

Mountain

That's kind of existential.

(21:04):

Liza Makarova 

I guess so. The reason why archivists and researchers need to collect and display metadata is so that it's easier for users to find the information they're looking for. The process of creating metadata from large and various sets of data is kind of like creating a dating profile. 

A person, just like a data set, is complex and often holds a lot of information at once. Metadata is specific details about information rich material that is formatted and categorized so it's accessible, easy to find and descriptive.

(21:36):

Mountain

Well, when you put it that way, I can see how it reduces the amount of smalltalk I have to do when someone new comes to the site.

(21:42):

Liza Makarova 

Exactly. By using the search bar, any user can just type in what they're looking for in terms of genre, length, or collaborator, or all the information can be found just by looking at you.

(21:53):

Mountain

I gather slightly similar information about our users.

(21:56):

Liza Makarova 

Oh, like what?

(21:58):

Mountain

Well, I know that you all have good taste. [Mountain and Liza laugh]

(22:03):

Liza Makarova 

Well, it has been an absolute pleasure to speak with you, Mountain 1967. Before I let you go, I have one last question to ask you. Can you describe existing in a digital archive in one or two words, even?  If you can, of course?

(22:22):

Mountain

[Mountain takes a deep breath] Freedom. [Soft piano music plays briefly and then fades out]

(22:36):

Fred Wah, In Class Conversations - March 9, 1979 

[Sound effect of a tape being put into a tape player] 

And maybe you, maybe, maybe people have some opinions on, you know, paying for literature or poetry. Uh, I mean there, you know, there's a pretty good argument for saying that poetry belongs, because it's language, it belongs to everyone. It belongs to all of us. [Sound effect of a tape ending]

(22:54):

Liza Makarova 

Uh, hello? um, com-computer voice?

(22:58):

Computerized Voice: 

Hi.

(22:59):

Liza Makarova 

May um, may I please speak to "Limestone Lakes Utaniki?"?

(23:03):

Computerized Voice: 

Well, does it wanna speak to you?

(23:06):

Liza Makarova 

Oh, yes? It agreed to meet with me, so I think...

(23:11):

Computerized Voice: 

Okay, I see you on the list. "Limestone Lakes Utaniki" is loading.

(23:15):

Liza Makarova 

Thank you.

(23:18):

Computerized Voice: 

[Whirring noise begins] They have now been loaded. [Whirring noise ends]

(23:20):

Liza Makarova 

They? [Music begins]

(23:25):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once] Hello?

(23:26):

Liza Makarova 

Oh, am I speaking to “Limestone Lakes Utaniki?”

(23:29):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once] Yes.

(23:30):

Liza Makarova 

Oh, hello. There are so many of you.

(23:34):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once] Yes, but…

(23:37):

LLU 1 

Uh, yes, but we are not all the same.

(23:41):

LLU 2

We're like identical twins with slightly different features.

(23:45):

LLU 3 

I like to think of myself as an individual, a lone wolf even, distant from the pack.

(23:50):

LLU 2

Oh, so you went from first to second person in 1987, and now you think you're so different from us.

(23:56):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once] That's not true!

(23:58):

LLU 3 

Wow.

(24:00):

Liza Makarova 

Well, I'm still so excited to speak with all of you today. It completely slipped my mind that there are so many versions of this collection. My first question for all of you, I guess, is this: The Fred Wah Digital Archive is more than an archive, right? It also explores mapping a social bibliography. So from your perspectives, how does this mapping appear for you?

(24:25):

LLU 1 

So the social bibliography is, well, like a list of everyone who has worked on a project with Fred. Each person is housed under us as either an editor, contributor artist, or as, uh,  someone who was published alongside Fred. However, archival materials are, uh, also housed under the contributor.

(24:51):

LLU 2

Okay. Okay. You're getting a little wordy. To summarize there's-

(24:55):

LLU 1 

Wordy! Aren't you the one with three extra passages?

(25:00):

LLU 2

To summarize, you can't search for information about a specific contributor without also learning about different archival material and vice versa.

(25:08):

Liza Makarova 

So for you, being an independently published poem, as well as appearing in a few different publications means you've come across a lot of people.

(25:16):

LLU 2

I'm not sure if “come across” is the right word to describe the relationship the social bibliography has with the literary bibliography.

(25:25):

LLU 1 

Oh! Oh, I agree. Oh, we're, we're not just passing through. The poem is part of the community, just as much as the poets.

(25:33):

Liza Makarova 

Hmm, I see. So perhaps you could say that you're not only personally connected to each contributor, but you also make up the bonds that connect people in the Wah-verse.

(25:42):

LLU 3 

Inside and outside of the Fred Wah Digital Archive.

(25:46):

Liza Makarova 

Huh? What do you mean?

(25:47):

LLU 2

Well, think about yourself, for example.

(25:49):

LLU 3 

Or the cooler, [clears throat] I mean, cool people that worked on the Fred Wah Digital Archive before you.

(25:55):

LLU 1 

Oh, we're always meeting new and familiar researchers as the project gets new team members or when it moves to a different province.

(26:05):

Liza Makarova 

Wait. So, like you, you know our location?

(26:08):

LLU 3 

Um, we weren't created in a vacuum.

(26:10):

LLU 2

Of course we have a sense of spatiality.

(26:13):

LLU 1 

You could even say that, that spatiality is our specialty.

(26:21):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once] [All three laugh] Good one.

(26:21):

Liza Makarova 

Okay. So I know that one of the main features of the archive is to plot and display geographical metadata based on the framework of Fong and Fitzpatrick who revived the Fred Wah Digital Archive in the 2010s. We know how the text, you all, circulated throughout Canada in various time periods. In their words, this sort of research adds another layer of relational information that illuminates literary sociality in a spatial sense.

(26:48):

LLU 2

Right.

(26:49):

LLU 1 

I think I know what you're getting at.

(26:52):

Liza Makarova 

But you've also developed a sense of present sociality.

(26:56):

LLU 3 

In order to be in the Fred Wah Digital Archive, you have to have been outside of it at some point.

(27:01):

Liza Makarova 

Huh. So since your positionality is currently inside of the archive, how or in what ways are you connected to the um, I guess non-archival space?

(27:13):

LLU 2

Capturing the present is also a way of capturing the past.

(27:16):

LLU 1 

I mean, couldn't every space be considered an archival space?

(27:21):

Liza Makarova 

Oh yeah, yeah. Right. Sorry. The great universal archive. Oh, okay. So let's break it down a little bit. You're all in the Fred Wah Digital Archive, like within the code that's projected as a legible image in text. But you also exist in various library archives that are in British Columbia and Montreal, because Fred Wah donated his reel to reel tape collections and books to SFU, UBCO and Concordia. But you also absorb information in the homes of everyone who has ever bought, bartered or stole a copy of you- your material.

(27:57):

LLU 2

There's a movie like that, right?

(27:59):

LLU 1 

Like, um… Everywhere…

(28:01):

LLU 3 

At once.

(28:02):

LLU 2

At once everything is...

(28:04):

Liza Makarova 

Everything Everywhere All At Once-, anyway, what I'm trying to understand is how you feel about your positionality as digitized archival material. In the many places where you are at the moment you are simultaneously in the digital archive, which is a very dynamic place in terms of temporality. How does this huge angle inform your sense of self and how you feel about all the places and people you are connected to?

(28:29):

LLU 3 

The Fred Wah Digital Archive is just like any other place that's been passed down over time. You always know what kind of person lived prior to you based on how they left the space, and you're going to be aware of the contributions you personally make in the space. 

Same thing goes for an archive. The research group in Vancouver at SFU are very different from you all in Montreal. They have access to material you don't, and vice versa. We take note of these distinctions quite literally since it affects how we are presented, but also how people interpret us

(28:57):

LLU 2

By working on the Fred Wah Digital Archive with someone in the same position as you from Vancouver in 2016, automatically makes you affiliated to them in some way, even if you've never met before. Internally, we see that by comparing your organization of metadata, use of punctuation, and what information you think should and shouldn't appear in the archive.

(29:18):

Liza Makarova 

Hmm. There is definitely a connection between how you track the variation of archival interaction and how we track the development of Fred Wah’s work and community as he moved within different literary milieu’s.

(29:29):

LLU 1 

Yes, exactly! So to go back to the question about the social bibliography, it is a list of people, but it also represents a network, one that spans across generations and miles, genres and styles, friendships and camaraderie.

(29:51):

Liza Makarova 

So there is an archive of contemporary interconnections within so-called Canada inside of the archive of Fred Wah's collected works.

(29:58):

LLU 3 

It's super layered. It's not exactly clear where the archival text ends and where the social bibliography begins.

(30:05):

Liza Makarova 

What are your thoughts on being in conversation with so many different people, texts, and environments?

(30:10):

LLU 2

It's exciting.

(30:11):

Liza Makarova 

I'm so glad. Personally, I think I would feel a little overwhelmed. It's a lot of information that overlaps. I would be scared of getting lost.

(30:19):

LLU 2

I would say that's why it's important to be precise, specific and to display a variety of labels in the way you organize things. An editor of Fred's work could also show up as an artist. As part of the collected work taxonomy, we became accustomed to being called “Limestone Lakes Utaniki” without any note about us being different versions.

(30:39):

LLU 3 

For the longest time we were just listed as the same poem.

(30:42):

LLU 2

And in some ways we are, different variations of it.

(30:47):

LLU 1 

But it's important to track these changes over time.

(30:51):

Liza Makarova 

We actually found out through an audio recording from March 9th, 1979 that the reason why there are so many versions of the same poem is because Fred Wah edited them before sending them off for publications.

(31:03):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once] Oh, we know!

(31:05):

Liza Makarova 

[Liza laughs]  I wonder if there are any other versions that we don't know about that were specifically edited for readings.

(31:10):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once] Oh, we wouldn't know.

(31:12):

Liza Makarova 

Wait, you have never heard yourself be read aloud?

(31:16):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once] Nope.

(31:16):

Liza Makarova 

Well, would you like to?

(31:18):

LLU x3 

[Three voices speaking at once, talking amongst themselves] 

 I, I'm not sure. Like… I think it'd be, I think we could…

(31:22):

LLU 2 

Let's do it. 

(31:25):

LLU 1 

The thing is… I don't think there is a recording of us being read.

(31:28):

LLU 2 

We actually haven't ever heard an audio recording of Fred read before. Like at all.

(31:36):

Liza Makarova 

Hmm. Okay, let me see. [Sound effect of someone typing on a computer] 

Oh, here. Let's listen to this clip of Fred reading “What does Qu’ Apelle mean?” for the 1985 TISH celebration. A bunch of poets like George Bowering, Frank Davey, David Dawson, Gladys Hindmarch, Lionel Kearns, Peter Auxier and Warren Tallman were there reading as well.

(32:02):

Fred Wah reading in "TISH: A Celebration (1985)"

I was in, uh, I was in, uh, Fort Sand this summer, Fort Qu’ Apelle and, uh, a few poems out of that. This was a letter, a letter back home. 

What does Qu Apelle mean?/ Did you know I watered the Japanese cherry out front?/ The manchurian plum too./ How late did Jennifer sleep on Sunday?/ I talked to my mum about using the wormy cherries for wine./ Tell her about the worm in the tequila./ What did Erica do at Gray Creek?/ I picked two cocoon-like burs off the apricot tree./ What do you think they are?/ I think we should plant more flatter sugar peas from now on./ I cook that halibut with some veggies in the leftover burnt brown rice./ I'm trying to remember a particular and specific rotten two by four on the deck or a blemished shingle/. So I can take us there by mentioning to you like that piece that's soft to the touch of my foot when I turn to the left on Slant Trans Canada./

You can't swim in the lake here because of the algae./ I don't have a printer for my computer, so I'm using a typewriter./ There's a girl here who was an old Smith Corona portable of her mother's, which is just like yours only in better shape./ This place is full of noise because it's a band camp and there's a black lab right outside my window howling all night, every night./ When I flew over Invermere, the fires were really chugging out. Huge smoke stacks./ So you could tell the mountains were in control./ They have mosquitoes here./ Is life work?/ Where's my olive green tank top?/ I don't know if my grandmother's ever talked to one another./ Do you know that idea about if you image something, it will be true?/ There are probably images in our lives which will never be actualized, particularly ones above the north./ Information is definitely not narrative or maybe narrative isn't narrative./ Could someone, and I don't mean in the Japanese sense at all, clean out the culverts on the road in case it's a real deluge./ The food's mediocre./ I'm too academic./ This worries me, but I, but maybe it's okay./ Like I don't think it's a serious problem./ But if it becomes part of a life force blow, I'll really wonder./ Don't forget to check the water in the batteries in this hot weather/ What does Qu’apelle mean? 

(34:22):

Liza Makarova 

What did you think?

(34:25):

LLU 2

I could feel the air flowing through the spaces between each letter, the warmth of breath propelling us towards the microphone and seeping into the tape.

(34:34):

LLU 1 

I felt like I was there. As soon as you played it, I was transported to 1985. Being inhaled [LLU 1 inhales] and exhaled,[LLU 1 exhales]  riding each sound wave to the present.

(34:51):

Liza Makarova 

Recording poetry readings was really important for Fred Wah's generation in the sixties all the way into the eighties. It wasn't just for the sake of preserving or capturing the work of prolific poets on tape, but it's also a way for work to be shared or even gifted.

(35:05):

LLU 2

That isn't to imply that we were some commodity either. A huge part of sharing tapes was keeping the contemporary writing ecosystem alive. Poets from the west could hear poets from the east read and vice versa. After this exposure, writers from one side of the country could respond to the work of their distant peers, and it would also circulate throughout their local literary communities.

(35:27):

LLU 3

The Digital Archive is similar in that way. Instead of being transferred from the hands of one artist to the next, we're easy to access for the entire world. Obviously, we don't wanna compete with people buying books, but for some people it's hard to find copies of older material, especially if a bookstore doesn't carry our publisher.

(35:44):

Liza Makarova 

Hmm. I hope there's a time when literature on the public domain and independent publishers can work together. Literary artists and editors deserve to be paid for their work, but Digital Archives shouldn't be neglected in the process.

(35:57):

LLU 1 

Especially one like the Fred Wah Digital Archive. It's a homage to all the care that goes into creating a generative literary community with a lot of significance placed on the people who made it possible.

(36:14):

LLU 2

Having one's memory and work be celebrated and sustained is an important non-monetary contribution to a writer's career.

(36:22):

Liza Makarova 

I feel like that's the reason why the legacy of this specific archive is so vital to the Canadian literary scene. It isn't just about the bibliography and access to Fred's work, but it's also about the possibility of interacting with people in literature you otherwise wouldn't be exposed to. Do you think that this sort of openness or convenience affects the personal connections between writers and their work?

(36:44):

LLU 3

Mm, I can speak on that, I guess. I would argue that putting these relationships into context is a way to preserve their intimate nature. Fred Wah widely wrote for his community and vice versa. Making sure the users of the archive know who these people are, where they're from, and how often they're connected is a great way to situate them in a closed network.

(37:02):

Liza Makarova 

To clarify, are you saying that us as users of the archive and researchers are situated as outsiders? From this position we can view this network but not really consider ourselves as part of it.

(37:14):

LLU 1 

Mm, no. That would be a little harsh. I guess it has more to do with ensuring that the network of writers and artists and editors and others are represented in the temporal and spatial realm when and where they had strong ties. The beauty of mapping a social bibliography is that these connections are only framed by our knowledge of them. Rather than thinking of them as a box, someone who is not, well, let's say a part of the network, someone who grew up in a different setting or time period has a different perspective and sociality.

(38:05):

LLU 2

So you're not outsiders. Actually quite the opposite. You're insiders! By using the archive and inspecting the relationship network, you're getting an in on the details, which develops your understanding of the archival material you are trying to analyze. It brings you closer to us.

(38:22):

Liza Makarova 

I definitely feel closer to all of you after this interview. Thank you so much for inviting me into your space.

(38:29):

LLU 1 

Thank you for having us.

(38:31):

LLU 2

It was a pleasure.

(38:32):

LLU 3

It was nice to have someone different to talk to- Someone like me-

(38:34):

LLU 1 and LLU 2

[LLU 1 and LLU 2 speak over each other.] Oh. Oh, Come, come on, on you. This is the last time we're oh, oh, this. Why are you making such a scene? Jeez! [Music begins to play and then quickly ends]

(39:00):

Fred Wah reads “Don’t Cut Me Down”

[Sound effect of a tape player starting plays ] So I'll read a few poems from the book, Tree.

Don't Cut me down/ I don't want any of this tree poetry shit from you/ You don't know what a fucking tree is/ If you think it's only in your head, you're full of shit/ Trees is trees and, and the only thing they're good for is lumber, so don't give me any crap about them being something else/ For Christ's sake, you think the rest of us don't know sweet fuck all all compared to you/ But you don't know nothing until you go out there and bust your back on a set and chokers break your so fast, you wouldn't even wanna look at a tree, let alone and write about it/ Then you'd know what a tree was ‘stead of yapping about it. 

That's essentially what was said to me in a bar, obviously, when I said I'm a writer and I write, I'm writing poems about trees. 

(39:37):

Clip of Fred Wah speaking  “In For Instances - Literary Arts Program on CJSW”

Languages, I see language as quite an organic, uh, moving thing. We really don't have, uh, you know, individually, uh, a lot of control over what language does. Um, and I, I'm, I'm a believer in the notion that really the poem writes itself or the poem writes me. [Sound effect of tape player stopping]

(40:01):

Liza Makarova 

Hello? May I please speak to, "Don't Cut Me Down" from Tree?

(40:06):

Computerized Voice

Are you sure?

(40:08):

Liza Makarova 

Uh, yes? It will be my last interview, I promise.

(40:14):

Computerized Voice

All right. If you're sure. [Sound effect of whirring begins] “Don't Cut Me Down” has now been loaded. [Whirring ends] [music begins and ends]

(40:27):

Liza Makarova 

Hi, my name is Liza and welcome to the podcast.

(40:30):

DCMD

Huh? What the hell is a podcast?

(40:32):

Liza Makarova 

Oh, it's like a radio show.

(40:34):

DCMD

All, right. Then why don't you just call it a radio show?

(40:36):

Liza Makarova 

I mean, it's not technically a radio show since we're not on air.

(40:40):

DCMD

Well then what the hell are we breathing?

(40:43):

Liza Makarova 

Uh, no. To be on air means-

(40:45):

DCMD

Don't explain to me what a radio show is. I know what a radio show is. So in 2022, you have no radio shows and no sense of humor. Typical. What do you wanna talk about?

(40:56):

Liza Makarova 

I would love to know what a day in a life of a digital literary archive looks like. What do you usually get up to?

(41:02):

DCMD

Sit around. Mind my business. Load once in a while, if I feel like it.

(41:07):

Liza Makarova 

Would you say you sit around more in a digital archive or in a material archive?

(41:11):

DCMD

Maybe we'd be sitting around more if you'd bother to code some damn chairs.

(41:15):

Liza Makarova 

Oh… I'm not the web developer.

(41:18):

DCMD

Who do I talk to to get a chair around here?

(41:21):

Liza Makarova 

I'll let our web developer know as soon as possible. Okay. Here's a question I think you'll like. What are some things digital archive poems don't appreciate? I'm talking, boundaries.

(41:33):

DCMD

Just don't talk to me about feeling complete.

(41:35):

Liza Makarova 

You don't feel complete? Do you feel like a draft?

(41:38):

DCMD

Didn't you hear me? Do you feel complete? Aren't you sort of a draft? See? Don't go asking things if they feel complete, you're gonna get in a lot of trouble.

(41:49):

Liza Makarova 

Okay. Fair. Noted. I'm sorry.

(41:51):

DCMD

In terms of boundaries, I'll narrow it down to two. Number one is close your damn tabs. I know you're reading, researching, rambling, but be mindful of those tabs. You have me open in three different browsers and you don't even realize, and then you complain that I’m slow. Then you refresh, refresh, refresh. It's hard to keep up. 

Number two, don't forget about that Fred blog, new updates thing, on the site. You people are digging deep into the archives, but forget what's happening in the present. If you do, then you're really not grounding yourself. It really grinds my metaphysical gears, tightens my syntax. I don't like it.

(42:27):

Liza Makarova 

Well, thank you for bringing that up. [Music begins] Another aspect of the Fred Wah Digital Archive that's very unique is that it informs users on what Fred Wah is doing in the now, as well as the creative contemporary writing that is inspired by him, his older works, and even the archive itself.

(42:43):

DCMD

And that's what I like to see people exploring. I know what Fred has done, but I wanna know what he's doing right now. Hopefully not writing any more tree poems.

(42:52):

Liza Makarova 

I can assure you he's doing a lot of interesting writing and revisions since your publication. Bringing up tree poems and the theme of experimenting with the temporal clash of digital archives and material archives, I'm wondering about your thoughts on immortality. You were written and published in 1972, but you've honestly not aged a bit.

(43:09):

DCMD

I want everyone to know that I've gotten zero work done, by the way, and I say that because you can't say the same for some of these revised poems.

(43:18):

Liza Makarova 

Getting some touch ups isn't a bad thing.

(43:20):

DCMD

You know what I don't like?

(43:21):

Liza Makarova 

What's that?

(43:22):

DCMD

Install updates. I hate moving, migrating, whatever you call it. We're not birds, we're poems. We belong somewhere. We need to be treated with more respect Now, everything's a mess. We have duplicated poems, couplets, if you're trying to be all fancy, all these new functions. But, oh, don't you dare marvel at new technology because once you blink, there's something out there that's newer. And that's what I'm talking about. Who is paying for all of these moves? Are we really getting that popular? That's what I wanna know.

(43:51):

Liza Makarova 

Yes, actually! You are. I can completely understand how migrating can be tough, especially after experiencing two big overhauls. Maintaining and updating a digital archive is both a very slow, yet simultaneously overwhelming process. 

(44:05):

DCMD

Mhm, I hate being hurried and I also hate feeling stuck.

(44:08):

Liza Makarova 

Stuck? Do you feel stuck in the Digital Archive?

(44:11):

DCMD

Don't put words into my mouth.

(44:12):

Liza Makarova 

I just wanna know your thoughts on what it means for a piece of literature to end up in a literary archive.

(44:18):

DCMD

End up?

(44:20):

Liza Makarova 

Yeah. There's a general misconception, I feel, in the public opinion that an archive, digital or not, is a place where old books are left to collect dust or take up space.

(44:31):

DCMD

And who are you? Some hero? Why do you feel the need to prove them wrong?

(44:34):

Liza Makarova 

Because I think there's a lot of value to preserving the work of our predecessors. It's a way to be a part of the conversation and interact with media we wouldn't have been able to interact with otherwise.

(44:45):

DCMD

So you think you can just waltz into any old archive and listen to a couple of tapes and you're just like the greats?

(44:51):

Liza Makarova 

No, it isn't a hierarchy. Without getting too stoic, I, I think it's a duty of contemporary writers, artists and academics to be critical of, listen to, and take care of archival material, their future is our future. Plus we as researchers wouldn't have this deep connection to prolific writers from the past if  archives like this one weren't maintained.

(45:12):

DCMD

You don't know what an archive is.

(45:14):

Liza Makarova 

Huh?

(45:15):

DCMD

You're pulling all this nonsense out of the website's backend. I'll do you a favor by telling you some difficult truths by asking you some questions now. How do you decide what makes it onto the digital archive and what doesn't?

(45:25):

Liza Makarova 

Selection criteria is subjective.

(45:27):

DCMD

Well, that's what I'm asking you, subject!

(45:30):

Liza Makarova 

Okay. Well, personally, I don't think I'm the one to say. This isn't my body of work, but in general, I think that everything deserves to be preserved one way or another. Either through a library, a special collections room, in art, a digital archive, or even in memory.

(45:47):

DCMD

You know, not everything is up on that archive.

(45:50):

Liza Makarova 

I know that. We can't track down everything Fred Wah has ever written.

(45:54):

DCMD

And you're okay with that?

(45:56):

Liza Makarova 

I mean, no. Call me a perfectionist, but I love the satisfaction of knowing there are no gaps when I'm looking at a bibliography, especially in the sense of mapping out a social sphere. No interaction, inspiration or contribution is too small.

(46:11):

DCMD

Mm, interesting.

(46:13):

Liza Makarova 

What, what is it?

(46:19):

DCMD

[Music begins] Did you really think that you could preserve everything? [Music ends]

(46:49):

Clip from “Fred Wah In Class Conservations - March 9,1979”

[Sound effect of a person’s footsteps and a tape player being started]

Fred: It's a line printer, so it only prints out how many copies are requested. They don't have to print a whole edition.

Audience Member: Well, all this stays in the computer, in other words.  Say, I'd like a copy, it would run one off whatever edition it is now. Second, second draft, or whatever.

Fred: To a certain extent, I agree with you except that, that I also like, uh, I like books. I like the feeling of something, uh, of a statement, um, of a, I like monuments too, but I like the possibility that monuments can be, uh, destroyed. [Sound effect of tape player stopping]

(47:42):

Katherine McLeod  

SpokenWeb is a monthly podcast produced by the SpokenWeb team as part of distributing the audio collective from and created using Canadian literary archival recordings found at universities across Canada. Our producer this month is Liza Makarova, undergraduate student at Concordia University and research assistant on the mapping social bibliography in the Fred Wah Digital Archive Project. Our supervising producer is Kate Moffatt and our sound designer and audio engineer is Miranda Eastwood. Kelly Cubbon is our production manager and transcriber. And I'm your host, Katherine McLeod.

 Special thanks to Deanna Fong, the principal investigator of the Fred Wah Digital Archive and the entire Fred Wah Digital Archive RA team. And an extra special thanks to Fred Wah for giving us permission to use his recordings, text, and the overall support he has provided us through the creation of this podcast episode. 

[SpokenWeb theme music begins] To find out more about SpokenWeb, visit spokenweb.ca and subscribe to the SpokenWeb Podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you may listen. If you love us, let us know. Rate us and leave a comment on Apple Podcasts or say hi on our social media at SpokenWeb Canada. Stay tuned to your podcast feed later this month for shortcuts with me, Katherine McLeod: Short stories about how literature sounds.

[SpokenWeb theme ends]