In her show at the Derek Eller Gallery in New York, sculptor Jessica Jackson Hutchins shows some Dickinsonian roots: The Exponent of Earth (You Make Me), with a title taken from Dickinson (and Richard Hell’s “Blank Generation” punk record; she’s married to former Pavement member Stephen Malkmus, and apparently used the Dickinson poem in their wedding vows).

According to the ArtCal review, Hutchinson’s work “embodies a sense of both the monumental and the intimate and personal”; sample pieces from the show can be seen on the gallery’s site, including intriguing works like “Relics from a Lonely Dinner Party,” “Conversation betweenThings,” and “All the Holes in the Moon.” There’s a stark roughness to these pieces, but also a hint of fragility. Certainly worth a visit if you’re in the neighborhood.

Love—is anterior to Life—
Posterior—to Death—
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth—

MinnPost’s David Hawley has more information about Friday’s Dickinson marathon at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, Minnesota, which starts at 8 AM at Frey Library. According to Prof. Erika Scheurer, who organized the event, this Dickinson reading is more populist than most: instead of a stage, there are groupings of comfortable chairs; and spectators are encouraged to pick up the thread as the poems roll along.

In addition to the reading, there will be a continuous viewing of the Julie Harris “Belle of Amherst” film, and a chance to “Create Your Own Dickinson Poem” from cut-up lines (Dickinson meets William S. Burroughs?). And if 8 PM comes around and poem 1,789 hasn’t been read yet, the event decamps to Koch Commons until midnight.

In case you were, like I was, shepherding Cub Scouts around on Saturday and missed the Prairie Home Companion broadcast, here’s a link to the Guy Noir send-up of Emily Dickinson. As expected, it’s pretty good. If you like that kind of thing. Which not everyone does.

(SHE SINGS) (TO “EVERYTHING’S COMING UP ROSES”)

I stay home. Every night.
I go around dressed in white!
I write poems — secretly—
And tonight I will get out of Amherst!

Bring my horse!! Bring a mask—
I’m not going to tell so don’t ask—
I am thrilled — goodness me—
I am going to meet Henry at Walden.