The director of the Manchester Text Festival leads us through a contemplation of the various manifestations of text and intertextuality, as well as the tools for the construction of possible futures for poetry. (A brave thing to do in these oh-so-jaded times.) Beautifully produced with some new and interesting names for me: Hester Reeve, Carolyn Thompson, Lawrence Weiner. Available from the Bury Art Gallery, Moss St, Bury, BL9 0DR. United Kingdom. email: artgallery@bury.govt.uk for £10.
I’m happy to report that David Axelrod’s review of The Passion of Phineas Gage and Selected Poems is up at George Wallace’s excellent on-line poetry site Poetry Bay in its latest incarnation at www.poetrybay.com/winter2007/axelrod2.html. My thanks to the Poetry Doctor and to Mr. Wallace!
Another anthology put together by the enigmatic Chris Brownsword: a sheaf of xeroxed pages held together with elastic bands which features work by Chris Brownsword, Geraldine Monk, Alan Halsey, Jeremy Prynne, Scott Thurston, David and Christine Kennedy, Mark Goodwin and others. With a cover that sports a Han Shan poem and a haven’t-I-read-these-startling-insights-on-Taoism-and Language- somewhere-before-essay on Chuang Tzu by Hakim Bey, we feel that the land of Nod we’ve been whisked to lies vaguely in the East. For submissions and purchases (only 50 in this run, so get ‘em while they exist), contact cbrownsword[at]hotmail.com.
We set out from Toronto Friday evening and stole through the Niagara wine region under cover of darkness, hoping to cross the Lewiston-Queenston bridge and make good time towards Syracuse. We arrived at the border at about 9:30 and it took a full three hours to cross it—in these post-9/11 days that’s considered good time! With Katie riding shotgun on dear watch we made up lost time on the way to Syracuse, passing through at a little past midnight. We’d hoped to find a hotel and crash about halfway to New York, but plans changed as we couldn’t find a hotel anywhere along 81, finally convincing a desk clerk at a Ramada in Scranton to let us crash in a suite that lacked a bed but boasted two couches. At 5:30 in the morning and facing a night of napping in the car, we grabbed the keys and caught a few zzzz’s before waking to the excited tones of Fox News—the only channel our TV seemed to pick up. We skipped breakfast and headed out in order to make up some time just to be stymied by the New Jersey turnpike and New Jersey in general.
I love the way New York just happens, skyscrapers unfolding as if from a pop-up book when you emerge from the Lincoln tunnel. One minute you are in New Jersey and the next you are on 34th Street, weaving your way through the yellow cabs with Macy’s on your left and the Empire State building on your right. As we were meeting Jesse in Queens, Katie and I made our way to the midtown tunnel and were soon driving through Brooklyn-Queens.
Later that night we found ourselves back in Manhattan to do a little shopping and grab a little food. We walked up and down the avenues window shopping and watching the hustle and flow of the city.
Sunday morning we picked up Jesse from JFK and headed to the Bowery to meet up with Jerry and Diane Rothenberg. We bumped into them outside of a café and decided to grab some sandwiches and coffee, where I finally presented Jerry with a copy of China Notes—the first time he had seen it bound. At the same time, Jesse handed me a copy of Jim Daniels’ Now Showing—a project which he had overseen in Tokyo.
Ahadada Books is so diverse and so spread out—stretching out as it does between Toronto and Tokyo, that the moments when these distances collapse are sacred. There have been a few defining moments in the history of Ahadada Books: First meeting up with Jesse in Tokyo in Christmas 2001, vacationing with Maya and the kids last Christmas in Los Angeles, meeting up with formative Ahadada authors like John Byrum, Richard Peabody and Paolo Javier for our reading at Boog City—it quickly became clear that we were in the midst of another one here, sipping coffee on a New York sidewalk on an unseasonably warm October day. Reunited once again with Jesse and Jerry, I was disappointed when we had to ask for the bill—the reading was only ten minutes off. It was time to grab our books and head to the BPC to listen to Jerry read from China Notes.
Jerome Rothenberg’s a great reader. His careful attention to the way his poems appear on the page play out and come to life when he reads—he uses his voice as an instrument variously interpreting and riffing on the syncopations in his very own lines that lend a freshness to these poems, though I had heard them before, though I had spent many a late night working on his book—it was Jazz. And I got it on video and will post here soon.
All in all the trip was wonderful. I’d like to thank Jerry and Diane for their company, even if only for an afternoon—I wish it would have been more. I’d like to thank Katie for her patience with me when I found myself hopelessly lost again and again over the weekend (stupid maps), and I’d like to thank Jesse, who by way of Japan, traveled halfway around the world and in doing so played a part in turning a reading on a Sunday afternoon into another Ahadada Event.
And of course I’d like to thank Jerome Rothenberg for sharing these poems with us by way of China Notes—it’s a beautiful book that provided a reminder that being a formative part of Ahadada Books is truly a wonderful—and I mean that in the truest sense of the word—thing.
Still reading this, but am coming across such lines as:
Three drops of semen fell from the hanged man
(Homage to Jack Spicer)
This middle ear I inherited from the mute dog of the island of Cuba:/ it’s 12:10, the world is mapped out, map of the map/ of God (he has taken his time) it’s a free hand he gave/ us (a mischievous God): to invest in Creation’s beings/ under the rubric of omission, reducing them, naming/ them, calling the crow cow and the calf beetle: the/ God, mischievous, certainly.
(Naif)
The back jacket tells me that Jose Kozer is recognized as the foremost Cuban poet of his generation. As Mark Weiss, the translator (and publisher) of this volume inscribed on the front leaf: …”an entire world to read.” A world indeed!
This bilingual edition is available for $20.00 from Junction Press, P.O. Box F, New York NY 10034.
At Jerry’s reading we had a chance to meet the editor of the fabulous Avenue Be. Raoul Sentenat is an intense man on a mission–to create a dynamic home for poetry. Sporting some of the best graphic design I have seen in years, Avenue Be is a treat for the eyes. There’s some great poetry here–some names brand new to me–Pedro Pietri, Adrian Savage–some known–Haroldo de Campos, Martin Espada–among others. This is the first “official” number of the magazine. For more information go to www.avenuebe.com.
It felt almost illegal! I left Japan at 11 A.M. on Sunday morning and arrived at 11 A.M. on Sunday morning, with a thirteen hour flight somehow sandwiched in between. I carried a bag with a few days’ worth of clothes and 200 copies of Jim Daniels’ Now Playing fresh from the printers’. Everything went like clockwork…picked up the suitcase containg the books…customs…and there was Dan and Katie waiting for me. In the parkinglot the grand switch-off happened: Jim Daniels to Dan and Jerry’s beauty of a book to me.
Then the drive up-town to the Bowery: lots of dream-time talk–the kind of “I don’t believe I’m really here” kind of chatter that I indulge in when I step off the plane on the other side of the world. In my head the clean, quiet streets of Shin-Urayasu, and before my eyes the torn-up, ripped-up, painted-up, trash-dumped-upon, pissed-upon, yet manically alive streets of NYC on a beautiful autumn day with high blue skys and human vistas that were pure eye candy after thirteen hours in a sealed cabin at 35,000 feet.
As we made our way on foot to the BPC, suddenly there was Jerry and Diane. Hugs all around, and Jerry not at all sure how many people would find their way to his reading on such a beautiful day–but he loved–absolutely loved–the book, and hanging out with Jerry and Diane, and Dan and Katie, even if it meant drinking lots of coffee at the corner restaurant, was worth the trip no matter how many folks showed.
But just like the weather, our luck held out and a good crowd arrived in drips and drabs. First there was Stephanie–a student at the New School–and an apprentice to the Muse. There she is in Dan’s number three blog picture. She’d known Jerry in San Diego. Then the poet and critic Mike Heller arrived. I had a chance to hang out and talk with him. Then the reading happened. Books from the ahadada stand began to disappear, autographs were signed, hugs and handshakes and lots of smiles. The crowd was good–a gentle festival in a good space.
The reading was almost finished when the poet Robert Thompson appeared–my old friend from my dead-end Milwaukee days. Then, after we’d all gone elsewhere to talk some more, the greatest surprise of the evening: Mark Weiss in the flesh! What a great chat we had about Armand Schwerner–a profound poet and sorely missed.
It all went by so quickly. Katie and Dan had to return to Burlington and kindly gave me a lift back to the Hotel Pennsylvania where I spent the next few days visiting bookstores, catching up on old times with Robert and enjoying his family, and hanging out in Manhattan, primarily in the wee small hours, as I was still working very much on Japanese time.
The only time my luck ran out was when the North Koreans decided to test their A-bomb. Other than that–home again and safe.
Hey folks—I had hoped to get all of our photos up in the gallery, but haven’t had a chance. In the meantime, here’s a few shots from Jerome Rothenberg’s book launch at the Bowery…
Check out Pierre Joris’ blog for details on Jerome Rothenberg’s reading tonight in Albany at 7:30 p.m. in the UAG Gallery (247 Lark Street, Albany, NY).
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