Nina Simone at Pillsbury House Theater

 Twin Cities theater goers -- don't miss Pillsbury House Theater's production of Nina Simone: Four Women. Almost all the remaining performances are sold out, so hopefully they'll extend the production, But that often isn't possible, so you'd best snag whatever tickets you can get. 

All four women in the cast are fabulous both as actors and as singers. And Sanford Moore's music directing shines as well. Set against the backdrop of the civil rights movement and the murder of four young black girls in Birmingham, Alabama, the show is moving and at times infuriating in its tone. Erin Willis as Nina really channels the rage that must have gone into the writing of Simone's music. 

 The Scottish Play at the Guthrie

I saw Macbeth earlier this week, in a production both loving and unnerving at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis, earlier this week. What a poetic masterpiece! I hadn't realized that Macbeth is the shortest of Shakespeare's tragedies. The crimes and retribution seem to spill full throttle onto the stage amid the dark soliloquies of the characters. I'd highly recommend it. 

All the performances were compelling, especially Lady Macbeth. Perhaps her villainous nature is something of a deterrent, but I'd think all the leading ladies of stage and screen would like to sink their teeth into that role the way so many actors (many too old for the part) yearn to play Hamlet. "Look like an innocent flower, but be the serpent under it."

When Macbeth's corpse is hung by his feat at the end of the play, you practically expect to see real blood dripping off his finger. Seeing a production like this is a visceral experience. "Fair is foul, and foul is fair," indeed. 

Who Knew I Was Signed In?

 I was trying to find my old blog about writing and literature, and I couldn't find it -- until I went directly to blogger and realized I was logged in already. I guess because I'm logged into email. 

Other than that, I've little to say right now. I'll have to do a better job of keeping a log of readings and performances I've attended or books, etc., I'm reading, with a goal to promote work I think should enjoy a larger audience. Till then, cheerio. 

Checking In -- Sort of

 I should be keeping up with the blog more. I meant to sort of keep a journal of literary and cultural activities here, but alas, I haven't thought to write much of that down lately. I started reading The Bee Sting by Irish novelist Paul Murray, and I'm throughly impressed so far. Saw a wonderful production of Richard II at the Guthrie Theater a couple of weeks ago. And I saw Allison Russell perform live for the first time at a Gala for the Brooklyn music nonprofit National Sawdust. So I've been out and about and hope to have more details to share in the near future, if I remember that I've got this culture blog that I want to resurrect. 

Back in Action

 Have I been a lazy culture blogger? You betcha, as we say here in Minnesota. That's not to say I haven't been taking in lots of plays, concerts, readings, etc. The Loft Literary Center's annual Wordplay event was a treat. Tremendous productions of Hamlet and Into the Woods at the Guthrie Theater. And Mu Performing Arts impressed again with a premier of Kung Fu Zombies Saga: Shaman Warrior & Cannibals, presented at the Luminary Arts Center in the North Loop neighborhood of Minneapolis. And since it's summer, there have been lots of outdoor concerts, many free in our excellent park system, including performances by Barlow, Machinery Hill, and Old Guys Play the Blues. I also heard the Minnesota Orchestra's season sampler opening performance and got to hear some of the best local performers and singers participating in the Source Song Festival. But I've been lazy about chronicling these adventures. 

In terms of reading, I'm currently enjoying the novel Black Cloud Rising by David Wright Falade, and I've returned to reread one of my all time favorite poets, Thomas McGrath (there ought to be a memorial to him someplace here in Minneapolis). And I'm also delving into poet Chris Santiago's collection, Tula. 

I'm grateful that both of my cities, Minneapolis and New York, offer such exciting cultural offerings. Hopefully I'll do a better job of reviewing some of those experiences here in the future. 

Trip Shakespeare's New Standards

 Well, it's been a minute. I'd like to publish a list of best theatre/music/books I've discovered this past year, but it seems like too much work. Instead I'll just recommend that you spend sometime this winter listening to The New Standards cover of "Snow Days," a Trip Shakespeare song that they do really well in their annual holiday show. The song's a kind of melancholy celebration of winter's wonders. Recordings of it can be found on various online streaming video and music platforms. 

So now you know how I spent much of my afternoon, listening to The New Standards and Trip Shakespeare. I've got many books to read before I sleep, much to read before I sleep. 

In the new year, I hope to spend more time keeping this blog up to date with reading/listening/viewing suggestions and reflections. Happy New Year. 

It's Been a Minute

 As the kids say today. I've sort of neglected this blog, but I think I should return to it. Perhaps jotting down some occasional thoughts bout literary and cultural events and such will force me to be more disciplined to read works and attend events that enriched my cultural life. The pandemic has been a bit of a downer, as they say. I'm reading Anthony Veasna So's much praised debut story collection, After Parties, feeling sad that this auspicious beginning is by nature a capstone on his career as well. I'm reading an anthology, A Garden of Black Joy, which is introducing me to many Black poets I hadn't encountered before and also includes some beautiful and insightful essays by the editor, Keno Evol.

The old keeps spinning, and I'm still looking for opportunities to jump on the carousel. Hopefully I'll have more to share soon.

Once upon a Time in Minneapolis

 Well, the pandemic has left me suffering from ennui, and not reading or writing as much as I should have. It's a beautiful day for a walk in Minneapolis, which I did this morning (we get excited by temperatures approaching 40 degrees Fahrenheit here at this time of year.)

I'm reading Jill Lepore's "These Truths," a one volume history of the United States, and Jeanette Wilkerson's Caste, which has enlightened me about the roadblocks Black Americans face in this country. I've also been making my way through an enlightening collection of Black poetry, interspersed with some essays and interviews, "A Garden of Black Joy." It's edited and includes essays by Keno Evol, who founded Black Table Arts for Black writers here in Minnesota. 

And of course social media keeps a slew of mostly contemporary poetry before my eyes on a daily basis. I'm particularly fond of poetryisnotaluxury's feed on instagram, as well as Forgotten Good Poems on Twitter. 

Well, time to get back to reorganizing home library shelves as I continue to procrastinate on my backlog of reading. 

Orwellian, Autocratic Times Call for Poetry of Resistance

 I read an Audre Lorde poem earlier today, part of the Academy of American Poet's daily poetry feed. It's determination, resistance, and outrage seemed to speak to the moment we are experiencing in what I hope are the waning days of Trumpism in the United States. 

The poem, one of her most famous I believe, is "I Must Be a Menace to My Enemies." Here's the poem on the Academy of American Poets website. 

Enemies does not seem, at first glance, in an emotion reflected in tranquility kind of way, like a suitable muse for poetry. But injustice anytime is an injustice to all, and a call to action must start with a naming and confronting of the enemy. With American democracy under attack, the late Audre Lorde's poem resonates today just as it did during her turbulent lifetime. 

As a white person reading a Black poet's work, I'm forced to confront my own fear in this poem. And I'm also invited to feel for a moment that measure of anger that someone Black feels when their very presence is considered cause for fear and unease. 

With white nationalists storming the US Capitol, incited by a deranged and dangerous president, becoming a menace to our enemies is essential work. 

Wishing for More Good News from the Supreme Court

In recent years, it's been difficult to find anything heartening about news coming from the Supreme Court. But for as long as I've been involved in gay rights and queer liberation movements, one of the holy grails that seemed almost within reach but just unattainable for now was a national prohibition on discrimination in the workplace.
ENDA -- the Employment Nondiscrimination Act -- floated around Congress for decades. Each time Democrats controlled both the House and Senate, it seemed close to getting a fair hearing and maybe passing. Then "religious exemptions" would be inserted in the bill that created such wide scapegoat loopholes that even LGTBA+ leaders felt compelled to abandon it. And then, as has been the case most of the time in recent decades, Republicans would reclaim one or both houses of Congress and the lid was slammed shut on any talk of protecting queer people from discrimination.
So now the Supreme Court has ruled that Civil Rights legislation passed decades ago does in fact protect us from workplace discrimination. I'm not an attorney but I'd love to read about the legal reasoning that led to this ruling, with the support of two conservative justices. Hats off to the attorneys who brought and prevailed in this case. And if let's hope the two conservatives who sided with the majority, Roberts and Gorsuch, might show more affinity for progressive legal arguments. The conservative Supreme Court has been a thorn in the side of progressive governance for too long.
On unrelated news, a few weeks ago Jericho Brown won the Pulitzer Prize for his latest poetry collection, "The Tradition." He's the seventh African American to win the Pulitzer for poetry (and the first openly gay one). He's amazing, and he's created a new form, the duplex, which is spreading in popularity among contemporary poets. His poem, "After Essex Hemphill," might be inspired by a park in D.C., that was always known as Malcom X Park when I lived nearby in the early '90s. (It's official name was Meridian Hill Park). I find Brown's work brave and seductive, righteous and adventurous. From the aforementioned poem:

"...As we kneel illegal and
Illegal like Malcom X.
This is his park, this part
Of the capital where we
Say please with our mouths
Full of each other, no one
Hungry as me against this
Tree. This tree, if we push
Too hard, will fall. But if
I don't push at all, call me
A sissy...."

And it ends:
                     "The night
is my right. Shouldn't I
East? Shouldn't I repeat,
it was good, like God?"

If the poem is set in D.C., that's the closest tie-in to the Supreme Court decision that I can think of. At any rate, buy "The Tradition", go hear Jericho Brown read, and rejoice that people can no longer be fired for being queer or transgender.

Zoom in on Me (or on Other Poets, Preferably)

Well, Zoom has allowed me to hear a number of writers who I probably would not have seen reading together at a traditional bookstore, academic auditorium or arts venue reading. Five famous poets! All together on one night. And you get a vicarious, voyeuristic glimpse into their living quarters.
Still, I'm longing for the real thing. One or a handful of poets in the same place at the same time, their voices or the voices of people reading their work unamplified and undistorted by electronics and technology. How about a reading sitting around a fire pit in a public garden in New York City's East Village (social distancing style, of course). Ah, those were the days.
Still, I appreciate the online alternative. The Quarantine Reading series organized by Aurielle Marie (and featuring headliners Phillip B. Williams and Justin Phillip Reed on successive nights) was perhaps my favorite Zoom reading room lately. And I'm grateful. Two nights of wonderful poetry by some of today's most vital voices -- who could ask for anything more?
But I'm longing for the olden days, as they say. I was walking through Boom Island Park in Minneapolis a little over a week ago, before the city fell into grief and outrage, and I ran across a man  sitting on a park bench playing the saxophone. I told him what a relief it was to hear live music (he demurred, insisting that what he was doing was practicing, not playing music) but to me it was music. Coming from a real musician with a real instrument within my hearing distance. Those were the days.
So, I'm looking forward to hearing all the poets I've been listening to read again soon -- hopefully as a member of a live audience.

All Online All the Time

Well, this social distancing stay at home environment is getting old, but there are some fringe benefits. Hardly a day goes by when I don't find myself "invited" to a poetry reading or talk online. The Academy of American Poet's online marathon the other night was just one example.
And what do I find myself doing during these "virtual" readings, whereby readers and writers (and musicians and actors in some cases) convene via the Internet from the privacy of our homes? I find myself looking for glimpses of the participants' home lives.
The furniture, the decor, the art, and of course the libraries -- the most common backdrop people choose to show when they put their home on display via virtual meeting technology is the well stocked bookshop. Rarely, on my primitive laptop technology at any rate, is the image large enough that I can read many of the titles, but the books are on display. A few participants choose a blank wall backdrop or even drop some fabric behind them, but fortunately most authors and speakers are willing to give us a glimpse into their homes. I did find myself having pangs of apartment envy during the Academy's virtual event. (If memory serves, Naomi Shihab Nye had the apartment I think artists and writers should have -- cluttered, book and art strewn, and enviably cozy.)
On balance, despite the occasional technical glimpse, I've found these virtual readings to be refreshing and consoling. But I do long for the days when we can all reconvene in an actual room, even one with uncomfortable plastic folding chairs, to hear and face the presence of live authors addressing a live audience.

Long Time No Chat

Here's a post from last fall that I abandoned as a draft without posting, and I can't recall why. So I'll post it now.

I practically forgot about this blog of mine -- time to start making a record of my poetic or literary musings and adventures again.
Recent outings included another excellent poetry performance produced by Emotive Fruition that featured a variety of actors reading a staged presentation of poetry highlighting women's voices. Like all Emotive Fruition productions, this one really highlighted the dramatic element of poetry and the power invoked by layering multiple voices together.
Also, out at the music venue National Sawdust in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, Paul Muldoon convened another combination of music and literature, this time uniting a classical trio (flute, violin, cello) with a Ukranian novelist and the American poet, and memoirist and human rights activist Carolyn Forche.
And, most importantly of all, I partook in a four week master class poetry workshop at the 92Y in New York City. The class was led by the inspiring and amazing poet Rowan Ricardo Phillips, and I'd encourage any poet who has a chance to do a workshop or class with him to take advantage of the opportunity. The class brought together one of my favorite groups of writers I've shared a workshop with, and I think many of us were sad that the workshop only lasted for four weeks.
Also, in addition to Rowan's poetry (Heaven is his most recent volume, and he has another highly anticipated collection coming out next year), he's also written a very entertaining and compelling nonfiction book about teens, The Circuit. The book follows the professional tennis tournament during the 2017 season, with many digressions about the nature of the sport and its followers (the piece about the origins of clay court tennis is worth the price of the book).

Danez and Friends at the NYPL

For a long time, I tended to write poetry in isolation, which had its benefits but also more drawbacks than I realized. I'd participated in several writing groups over the years, but to a large extent I plugged away at writing poetry and fiction on my own, viewing it as a solitary avocation.
As I've aged, I've come to recognize the fellowship and community in poetry. Nowhere was that sense of poetry as fellowship on display more than at Danez Smith's reading, along with two of his poet-friends, at the New York Public Library last week. Smith was celebrating the publication of Homie, his latest poetry collection which is a tribute to friendships that have helped shape him.
His fellow poets, Shira Erlichman and Angel Nafis, read before Danez and both are now on my gotta have their books list. But what struck me most about the reading was the sense of comradeship and camaraderie among the three writers. (Danez shared a story about sneaking into open mic readings at an Ethiopian restaurant in Minneapolis -- they were underage at the time and had to arrive when the restaurant was still open to avoid getting carded -- and then stay until the open mic started after restaurant hours). So often group or multiple reader poetry events evoke an undercurrent of friction, or perhaps a sense of competition between readers. Not so with Danez and his homies -- love was all around at this wonderful event.
If you have a chance to hear any of these three writers share their work, just go. You won't regret it.

Friday Night Lights in Manhattan

Well, I'm not much of a football fan, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to employ a 'Friday Night Lights' headline.
Actually, the dance performance I attended at Madison Square Park tonight took place under mostly natural light, this being the time of long days and late sunsets in the northern hemisphere. Tonights performance featured dancers from David Dorfman Dance, the Francesca Harper Project, URBAN/TRIBE, and Earl Moseley's Institute for the Arts.
And on my walk home I took advantage of the Friday night free admission at the Morgan Library to take in their Walt Whitman exhibit. This year being the 200th anniversary of Whitman's birth, there have been a lot of Whitman events and exhibits happening. Unfortunately, I keep finding myself in the wrong place at the wrong time and so I miss the readings and tribute events. But the Morgan exhibit, while modest in scope, was a delight to see.
It complements another Whitman exhibit at the New York Public Library's main building right beside Bryant Park. (free all the time!) Both exhibits focus heavily on Leaves of Grass, and both include manuscripts and some handwritten letters and drafts by Whitman. Both also devote space to Whitman's influence on other writers and artists.
So now that I've whetted my appetite, I think I should commit myself to reading aloud the entire Leaves of Grass manuscript, something I don't think I've ever done.

To Let Go and Fall

If you happen to be in the Twin Cities between now and the end of June, I'd highly recommend seeing "To Let Go and Fall," a new play with music produced by Theater Latte Da at the Ritz Theatre.
The show centers on a gay romance between two young, and occasionally confused, dance proteges in New York starting at the height of the AIDS epidemic and extends to basically the present day through a series of encounters between the two men. The action takes place beside a fountain near Lincoln Center in New York City, home of the American Ballet Theatre.
The play, by Harrison David Rivers, examines how the AIDS epidemic sparked fear and flight and sometimes had the power to sever relationships. Rivers has said the play was inspired by the love letters composer John Cage sent to dancer/choreographer Merce Cunningham. Young love is tough enough in any environment, against the backdrop of a harrowing health crisis, it can become poisonous. The show is directed by Sherri Eden Barber with choreography by Penelope Freeh. And not to be overlooked is the music. Cellists Jacqueline Ultan and Michelle Kinney wrote and performed the music that accompanies the players on the stage. /Overall, "To Let Go and Fall" is one of the best premieres I've seen in long time.
The play stars Mark Benninghofen, Austen Fisher, JuCoby Johnson, Tyler Michael King, Andre Shoals and Jon-Michael Reese, with Conner Horak and Da'Rius Malone providing dance scenes.

Poetry as Sustenance and Salve

As someone who's happiness has been enhanced and amplified by poetry, as well as by arts like music and film and painting in which I'm not a practitioner, I know that extra special feeling one gets when you get to see and feel an audience appreciating your work.
When I went to NYU this afternoon for a poetry reading, I was prepared to hear Deborah Landau read from her new and compelling collection, Soft Targets. I didn't realize I was going to a reading with a larger purpose, culminating the Goldwater Writing Project, which brings together mentors from NYU's acclaimed graduate program in creative writing and long-term patients a New York City municipal hospital that serves people with disabilities that make it difficult for them to live independently. As expected, guest poet Landau was excellent, but the lion's share of at the reading belonged to the participants in the writing program, who also published an anthology of their work titled, "The Golden Writers Anthology."
Many were not able to read their poems aloud, so their NYU mentors read for them. But they each wrote work that embraced optimism, hope, humor, and awareness. It was quite an enlivening afternoon. It was great to see the smiles on the authors faces as they read or sat on stage hearing one of the NYU writers read their work. I think we need to provide people in supportive housing or medical facilities more opportunities to express their creativity. It clearly enhances not only their own lives but also those of the people who encounter their work.
The Golden Writers participating in the reading were Linda Cumming, Zahra Dhaka, Barbara Graham, Frank Hegeman, William Holder, Richard Hurley, Eartha Kitt (yes, that was her real name), Joseph Richter, Antonis Tsikitas, and Kenneth York. The Goldwater Teaching fellows from NYU were Gbenga Adesina, John Daniel Debski, Raven Leilani, Alia Perisco-Shammas, Kyle Lopez, Natasha Rao, Wo Chan, and Crystal Valentine. The reading participants were introduced by graduate program manager Zachary Sussman and student coordinator Hannah Hirsh.

Returning from Saints & Sinners

Ah, how exhilarating and exhausting a week in New Orleans can be, especially if you're doing a conference by day and still sneaking out at night to enjoy the Big Easy nightlife.
The Saints & Sinners literary festival, one of my favorite LGBT annual events, coincides with the Tennessee Williams and New Orleans Literary Festival. This year their were quite a few poets on the official reading program and more poetry representation on panels than at some of the past festivals, which was fun for me -- especially since I got to be one of the readers.
Since I do public readings rarely, I'm still, despite hotel room rehearsing, a little nervous beforehand, and about midway through my eight minutes in the spotlight I found myself trying to rush through my reading, a mistake I've made before. But then I calmed down and managed to make more eye contact with the audience and add a little extemporaneous conversation between poems, and I think my work was fairly well received by people in the room. It was a mix of fiction, nonfiction and poetry folks, so the audience was perhaps more diverse in terms of literary tastes than at most poetry readings. I read exclusively poetry from my chapbook, Gotham Gray, and my general perception was that the poetry that had narrative content was more well received than my more abstract musings. I had the good fortune of reading with some very accomplished writers, namely Christian Baines, Kimberly Dark, Sven Davisson, Sukie de la Croix, J.M. Redmann and Jeffrey Round. Other poets participating in the festival included the amazing Justin Phillip Read, who was on a joint Saints & Sinners/Tennessee Williams festival panel with Garth Greenwell talking about what they write about when they write about sex; Brian Riggs, Steven Sanchez, Steven Riel, Brad Richard, Franklin Abbott, Louis Flint Ceci, and Gregg Shapiro. And Judy Grahn received a lifetime achievement recognition from the festival.
At any rate, I read a good article via Facebook recently that had some tips for doing public poetry readings, the most important of which is to remember that it is a performance, you are a performer, and you have to embrace that role. (I'm paraphrasing, of course, if I can find the link I'll share it here later. And I remember hearing the distinguished poet Timothy Liu say at a reading one time that the most important advice he'd received about doing readings was to always show up on time and be in a good mood, no matter how small the audience. (That was several years ago, so I hope my recollection is accurate.)
At any rate, I think I should seek out more reading opportunities, including open mikes and whatnot, if I want to improve. Hotel room rehearsing only goes so far -- in the end, that experience of speaking to or with an audience is what makes a reading a reading.

Hello Kelli

Somehow, I just couldn't help but think Kelli O'Hara was channeling a bit of Carrol Channing in "Hello Dolly" when I saw her in the Roundabout's production of Kiss Me Kate last night at Studio 54.
The show was a delight in every way, and featured some of the best dancing I've seen in a Broadway musical in years. Corbin Bleu infused every scene he's in with delight and sparkling footwork. At the beginning of the second act, James T. Lane leads a sublime ensemble performance of "Too Darn Hot," which got the biggest applause of the evening. The whole cast was fantastic.
But how cannot you not land the spotlight on Kelli O'Hara? She seems to have been born to sing Cole Porter songs. Parts of the book seem, well, a little dated after all these decades, though I still admire this mash up of The Taming of the Shrew with a modern show business drama. And the laugh lines are genuine and still fresh. But the songs...pure delight. A highly recommended show for anyone in NYC during its limited run.

Blinded Me with Science

I've long been a fan of poet Kimiko Hahn, and so I was delighted to go hear her read and discuss the intersections of poetry and science with Janna Levin, with whom I was unfamiliar, at Housing Works Bookstore.
As often happens at these events, my reading list just got a little longer. Hahn read mostly from her newest collection, Toxic Flora, and talked about her use of the New York Times science reporting to inspire and inform her poetry. I'm a big fan of Brain Fever, her earlier work, and this one sounds compelling and startling as well. She's an essential poet for me.
Now I don't think I'll ever understand exactly what a black hole is, but like a lot of scientifically uninformed people, I'm fascinated by the idea. And in explaining the concept of a black hole (essentially gravity suffering a "catastrophic collapse" and yielding something black on the outside, but perhaps light on the inside, and bigger inside than outside -- I hope I'm not bastardizing the concept) Levin made an interesting point -- which is that you cannot fully comprehend what a black hole is without understanding the math behind the concept. (My mathematical education ended with introductory statistics in college -- which I did find fascinating -- but left me well short of the advanced calculus needed to shed light on black holes.) Levin exposed me a little, from my layperson's place in the back of the audience, to the beauty and story telling capabilities of mathematics. She said trying to summarize the science behind a black hole to someone who doesn't comprehend the math is somewhat akin to translating a text from an original language to a different one. Something will always be lost in or left out of the translation.
So, in addition to Hahn's latest collection, I've added Levin's Black Hole Blues and Other Songs from Outer Space to my reading list as well.