A New Voice on Capitol Hill

Tracy K. Smith, pulitzer prize winning author of Life on Mars among other poetry collections, spoke with National Public Radio in an interview broadcast today about her appointment as Poetry Laureate of the U.S. (And, officially, consultant in poetry to the Library of Congress.) I remember living in D.C. in the mid-1990s, and readings or lectures featuring the poet laureate (I distinctly remember Rita Dove in particular) were always a highlight of D.C.'s literary calendar.
I was struck by somethings Smith said in her NPR interview about the role of poetry in a country facing times of division and dissension. Poetry is not just a vehicle to describe our own feelings, but also those of others -- serving as a vehicle to transport empathy. As such, she views poetry as something that becomes more essential in times of turmoil.
"The things that poems encourage us to acknowledge are more vital during times when we're up in arms about where we are going as a nation or where we're going as citizens," she told NPR.
I think Smith, whose work does not flinch from political and cultural hot spots, is an excellent choice for the laureateship. And I hope she will succeed in helping expand the audience of people who listen to poetry across the country.

Stewart vs Trump

I have to admit, though I'm not a regular viewer of the late night talk shows, I enjoy Stephen Colbert more than any other late night host since, well, since David Letterman, whom Colbert replaced. And I was mostly a big Letterman fan during the early years of his career, when I was young and inclined to stay up late on a regular basis.
I happened upon the Colbert show last week on a day when he'd invited Jon Stewart, previously host of Comedy Central's daily show (which reminds me, I like Trevor Noah, the new host over there, quite a bit as well) and quite a few other veterans of the Daily Show -- Samantha Bee, etc -- onto the show to have a bit of a love fest for their former mentor. This all happened a few days after there had been some kerfuffle over an off color joke Colbert had made about Trump.
Though I'm not familiar with the joke, I'm sure I would consider it fair game, given all the crude and insulting things Trump has said about other people over the course of his campaign (and career). But Jon Stewart himself came to Colbert's defense rather eloquently, I thought.
"For the life of me, I don't understand why we hold comedians to a higher standard than we hold leaders to," Stewart said. "We can insult. He can injure," he said, referring presumably to Trump.

An Amazing Gala

In a city full of galas and other black tie occasions, the National Sawdust gala stands out as something special. The evening's agenda isn't filled with speeches, exhortations and backslapping. Instead, music takes central stage and some of the best singers, musicians and composers working today keep the audience entertained during a marvelous dinner. Highlights (and there weren't any low points) including performances by Helga Davis (National Sawdust artist in residence), a new work by composer and NS artistic director Paola Pristini, and a closing performance by the band Gogol Bordello.
In addition to providing space and support for music composers, National Sawdust has hosted some compelling collaborations between musicians and writers, including the poet Roger Bonair-Agard.
Below is a photo of Gogol Bordello from the National Sawdust gala.

The Book of the Dead

Speaking of poetry and resistance, the good people at Berl's poetry bookshop in Brooklyn marked May Day with a marathon reading (repeated throughout the afternoon) of Muriel Rukeyser's Book of the Dead, a sort of epic, narrative poem about a lung disease that plagued and killed miners at a West Virginia mine. The silicon particles that infested their lungs and claimed the lives of many workers is vividly described in Rukeyser's poem, which summons outrage on a scale that no journalistic account could muster, though clearly the poem is inspired by investigative accounts of the tragedy.
Though the audience was modest, (I was the only non-reader present during one reading) the event served as a reminder (to me at least) that poetry does make a difference in the world. Sure, many believe that poetry does not make anything happen, but the inspiration drawn from poetry surely can inspire us toward engagement of the kind that can make things happen in the world. A poem sparking outrage against an industrial disease and the governmental neglect toward the working people affected by the crisis seems a particularly fitting choice at this time, with Congress considering legislation to peel away health insurance coverage from potentially millions of low income, older and sick people.

Poetry and the Resistance

The New York Times has a good article today on how the movement of resistance sparked by the election of Donald Trump to the White House (I still can't bring myself to use the P word as his title) has energized and politicized a lot of poets. (The article can be found here.) Some quick takeaways that reminded me that poetry today is more vital in the U.S. than it has seemed for a long time: Maya Angelou's poem, "Still I Rise," has been viewed on YouTube 470,000 times since the election. And I don't know if that even includes the version of Serena Williams reciting the poem that became an Internet hit after last year's Wimbledon championship. And Claudia Rankine's book, Citizen: an American Lyric, has more than 200,000 copies in print.
Last night at Magers & Quinn Bookstore in Minneapolis, prominent local poets Morgan Grace Willow, Lyle Daggett and Wang Ping read from a new anthology, Resist Much, Obey Little..., which was put together shortly after the election and represents something of an instant response collection (to the heck with that 'emotion reflected in tranquility business'.) The writers were generous enough to read work by other contributors in addition to their own poetry from the book. It seemed like the kind of event that deserves a larger audience than it got (a lot of readings seem that way to me). If poetry today is any indication, the resistance is strong.

Pankake Poetry

So here's a quiz: in what city last night did a poetry reading at a University outdraw, by a considerable margin, the audience attending a public discussion about journalism in the Trump era featuring a prominent Washington Post writer?
In Minneapolis, of course. one more reason why I love this town.
Bao Phi was this year's Pankake Poetry reader at the University of Minnesota. (At first I thought the Pankake was a sort of hipster misspelling of pancake, and that the event might feature actual pancakes or something of that nature, but it turns out the reading series is held in honor of Marcia Pankake, a retired U librarian and poetry enthusiast who founded the series.) I've been lucky enough to hear Phi perform, because it's much more than just a reading, before. His poetry is urgent, at times uplifting, at times fueled by rage. He explores the experience of growing up in a working class neighborhood of Minneapolis as an Asian immigrant and the many alienations that confront immigrants and their children. His poetry ranges from tender to fiery, and he takes his audience on a ride to some unsettling places. I heard echoes from Whitman an other outsider voices. I can't wait to hear him again and delve into his new collection from Coffee House press, Song I Sing.

Poetry and Music in the Court House

It's a splendid early April in the Twin Cities, to which I have returned for the first time in 2017. And it didn't take long for me to stumble upon an accidental poetry experience. Looking for some free entertainment, I found a Courthouse Concert series event sponsored by Saint Paul's Schubert Club. It featured composure and guitarist Jeffrey Van, along with a violinist and a vocalist.
Mr. Van's first composition, which he performed solo, was a piece evocative of the Spanish composer Manuel de Falla, with whom I'm not familiar. But I enjoyed both that piece and the second composition, which was accompanied by the violist. But it was the third piece that really seemed destined for my enjoyment, because it featured an operatic singer performing poetry by Whitman, Crane, Wordsworth and Amy Lowell. The piece was titled Ring of Birds, and the vocalist was the amazing Clara Osowski. Aside from repeating some lines as a refrain, the piece stayed loyal to the original texts of the poetry. Hearing the words sung rather than recited reminded me that the divide between musical lyrics and poetry is, and should be, a rather porous one. As the title of the composition suggests, the poetry featured all had avian themes. (Whitman's "The Hermit Thrush," Crane's "Three Little Birds in a Row," Wordsworth's "...to a Skylark," Tennyson's "The Owl," and Lowell's "The Young Crows."
And speaking of unexpected themes for poetry, while I was still in New York a couple of weeks ago I attended a sports themed reading sponsored by Finishing Line Press at Poet's House. If you ever get a chance to hear Kentucky poet Ron Whitehead perform, don't miss out. His energy and spirit will lift any reading. (He read from his collection, Blistered Asphalt on Dixie Highway: Kentucky Basketball is Poetry in Motion. Also participating were Met's unofficial poet laureate Frank Messina, who did indeed read baseball themed work, female baseball umpire and singer composer Perry Lee Barber, Steve Dulachinsky and Danny Shot. Keyboard player and composer David Amram provided musical accompaniment. The whole excellent event was recorded by Poet's House, so it should be available online at some point if it's not already up there.