"In the Bleak Midwinter"

Happy Wednesday, folks.  In honor of the recent solstice event, & also with hope of imparting some Christmas spirit both to Robert Frost’s Banjo & to myself, a re-post of sorts: a video of yours truly playing a fingerstyle guitar arrangement of “In the Bleak Midwinter,” Holst’s lovely setting for Christina Rosetti’s poem (you can read the poem here, at WikiSource.)

I recorded the song & made the video last December when it was originally posted on this blog.  The arrangement (not original, but by Doug Sparling, with some minor variations by yours truly) is for guitar in the DADGAD tuning—so called because those are the notes of the open strings, as opposed to EADGBE in standard tuning.  The DADGAD tuning is particularly used by fingerstyle guitarists exploring British Isles folk music—the open strings taken as a whole are a “suspended chord”—one that is neither major nor minor, but hovering somewhere in between.  It’s a lovely tuning, & one that loves to have open strings ringing.  I played it on my well-loved old Washburn, which is a sweet fingerstyle instrument.

Hope the holiday season has been good to you, & that you enjoy the music.  There’ll be one more holiday tune—from the Alice in Wonder Band archives—on Friday!

Who’s in the Audience?

Anyone’s who’s ever performed under stage lights knows: the audience is a group of mostly figures, their features indistinct, if visible at all.  & yet as performing artists, we thrive on this group of unseen people—why?  Energy: although we can’t see the audience except for a few faces in the front rows, we can feel them.  Audiences give something to the performer: energy, vitality, inspiration.  Almost without exception, an integral part of a good performance is a good audience.

How does this idea of audience energy pertain to writers?  After all, theater, music & dance are “performing arts”—writing poetry & fiction—the actual creative acts—this is almost always done in isolation—we don’t invite our friends to watch us while we type out words!

But for me, audience has always been a crucial part of the writing process.  However, for the longest time, I focused exclusively on those few faces I could see past the stage lights, not on the figures beyond them who were faceless shapes.  Yes, I’ve always written with an audience in mind, but an audience made up of a discrete number of people—a half dozen, perhaps a dozen at most.  & indeed, I received energy, vitality & inspiration from that audience.

How is this relevant to publishing in general & to the process of publishing The Spring Ghazals in particular?  The Spring Ghazals actually began with a series of poems addressed to an old friend—I say “friend,” because I don’t know a word to better define what has been a complex & perhaps unique relationship.  In any case, the poems that now appear in the book as the “Kitchen Poems” section began as a direct address to her, tho they were shared with a handful of other people as well—other distinct faces in the audience. 

This was before Robert Frost’s Banjo.  With one exception, a poem which this friend posted on her blog—a once popular site that’s no longer extant as she’s moved on to different things—the “Kitchen Poems” had a very small audience.

I’ve generally made myself comfortable with that—I was content circulating poems in a circle of other writers & creative people while taking an MFA—this included publishing in journals run by friends & acquaintances; I was content giving readings & publishing in a punk rock ‘zine while in San Francisco.  I used to say I had a very 16th century view of publishing—that I wrote poems for an intimate circle—those few recognizable faces in the first rows.

But at a certain point, I realized that if I were to keep writing now, in my middle-aged return to poetry, I needed a larger sense of audience.  First there was the Robert Frost Banjo blog—the prose poems in the “Cloudland” section of the book were written for the blog long before I even knew a book was in the offing.  Then the “Ghazals” themselves were written for the blog in the spring of 2009, & as the sequence grew, I began to see a “book” taking shape.

But all the time I was posting these poems on a blog with a growing readership, to be read & commented on by people I scarcely knew, I was also writing the poems for the same intimate circle as always; & I was writing them as much for my old friend as ever, tho at that point we were no longer in touch….

Here’s the fact of the matter: at a certain point I realized that it’s necessary to draw energy & inspiration from the audience as a whole, not just from those few faces you can see.  If what we’re giving in art is a mode of communication, & this seems true whether we’re using words or notes on a guitar or dance gestures or brush strokes, then at some point we have to decide whether we really want to circumscribe that communication.  If I’m onstage playing music & I decide to somehow restrict my communication to the few people I can actually see in the front row, then I won’t give a good performance—it’s all about “giving” & “receiving.”  But yes, I do focus on a few faces I recognize, but I let them take me to the rest of the audience—the indistinct figures in the further rows.

In the writing game, we call that publishing.

On Thursday: “What Have You Published?”


Photo of the Alice in Wonder Band during an ovation at the Alpine Playhouse by Tim Hohs

From a Buick 6

A happy Monday to you all.  The Monday Morning Blues continues today with the third selection in our Bob Dylan December.

Today, I’m posting a cover of “From a Buick 6,” again from the great Highway 61 Revisited album.  This song certainly has appeal to a blues musician—I think it’s one of Dylan’s most succesful transformations of the old time blues feel into an updated lyrical presentation & (in his case) electric sound.  Because I wanted a bit of that raw sound in my version, I used the Regal resonator guitar—the metal body can be easily coaxed into a natural distortion that seems just the ticket for this song.  The guitar is tuned to drop D—for those non-guitarists out there, that means the lowest sounding string is tuned down to a D rather than an E as in in standard tuning.  The guitar is capoed, so the actual key is Eb.

Please check in on Friday, Christmas Eve, for a seasonal tune from the Alice in Wonder Band archives.  & next Monday will wrap up our Dylan feature!

Hope you enjoy it!

Photo of the Week 12/19/10

 

Barn on Stone Breaker Lane 

Valley County, Idaho

Wednesday 12/15/10

 

Old Time Holiday Train #3

Hello, folks—the train’s running behind time this morning, which is more than a little appropriate to the two songs.  Fortunately, no actual wreck seems imminent.  Also: apologies to aficionados of Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music, who will see that today’s pairing comes straight off the first “Ballads” record of his compilation.  The pairing of “Engine 143” & “Kassie Jones” was just too good to pass up.

Carter Family: Engine 143 (1929)

The Carter Family from southwestern Virginia have had a profound impact on U.S. popular music, from country & folk to gospel & even rock (rockabilly in particular).  Perhaps the greatest single influence on future musical styles came from the guitar-playing of Mother Maybelle Carter.

In the 1920s the guitar was still primarily a rhythm instrument.  Even if we look at the great blues guitarists of that time, we don’t hear much in the way of “lead” playing such as we’d think of the thing nowadays.  The rhythmic backgrounds could be quite intricate—they could be contrapuntal, both in terms of harmonic lines & actual rhythm—but they didn’t tend to be break out into “melody.”  At least in terms of what would later become country music, Maybelle Carter’s playing changed this, as she perfected a style that incorporated melody with rhythmic playing.  This style is called “Carter picking” or “Carter scratch” in her honor. 

Although most folks nowadays play Carter style using a flatpick, Maybelle Carter played with a thumbpick & a fingerpick on her index finger—in this, her style was closely related to what is called “two-finger” banjo picking (she also played banjo, in fact, which she learned from her mother).  There has been some controversy as to how much influence African American musician Lesley Riddle had on her playing, but her connection to the banjo means at the very least that her innovative guitar style had some deep roots. 



Furry Lewis: Kassie Jones, parts 1 & 2 (1928)

Furry Lewis was, quite simply, an amazing singer & fingerstyle guitar player, equally adept at playing music from ragtime to blues.  His roots go way back.  He was born some time in the 1890s—the exact date is uncertain, as he gave various dates over the course of his life—& he had some success as a traveling musician in the ‘teens & early 1920s.  But apparently with an eye on some financial stability, Lewis took a job as a Memphis city street sweeper for his main source of income—a position he held from 1922 until he retired in 1966.  Fortunately for us, he had a brief but fruitful stint making records for Vocalion & Victor in 1927 & 1928; he might have even continued as a recording artist, but the Great Depression had a major impact on the recording industry in general, & so-called “race records” in particular.

So again, as with a number of artists, Lewis was re-discovered in part because of Smith’s Anthology, as well as by the interest in his 78 sides from within the 1950s & 60s folk movement.  He had a second musical career in his retirement that included recordings & a number of live appearances—for instance, opening for the Rolling Stones & appearing on Johnny Carson! 

Lewis played an old-style form of fingerpicking that in its own way is also closely related to banjo playing.  In fact, it would be hard to over-state the influence of the banjo on all forms of old-time music, even the blues where the banjo itself rarely was featured.

You’ll notice that Kassie Jones in appears in a part one & a part two.  The reason for this is actually quite simple.  The standard size ’78 rpm record was 10 inches, & this record held approximately three minutes per side.  If a song was longer than three minutes, there was a part one & a part two—another well known example is Robert Wilkins’ great blues song “Rolling Stone.” 

Enjoy!

The Spring Ghazals on Robert Frost's Banjo

Happy Friday to you all!  This morning we have a bit of a poetic excursion planned, & in doing so, I’m introducing a new feature to Robert Frost’s Banjo—one I hope you’ll enjoy & one that I hope will be helpful to me: the proverbial “win-win” situation.

As some of you know, I started a blog dedicated to my collection of poetry, The Spring Ghazals.  In case you’re not familiar with this, The Spring Ghazals is made up of poems I wrote between May 2008 & February 2010.  The poems are concerned with love & loss & memory & time, & in a fragmented & lyric sense of the word, describe a narrative arc. 

I decided recently, however, that the dedicated blog wasn’t really spreading the word about the book in the way I’d hoped.  As a result, I decided to close the shutters on that blog & try to spread the word here in hopes that the wider readership would result in more people being interested in & ultimately purchasing the book.  Speaking of which: The Spring Ghazals is available at Lulu, as well as on Amazon & Amazon UK.

As a “kick-off” to this new series, which will appear at irregular but frequent intervals (at least weekly) during the month of December, & then will probably move to its own weekly day in January, I thought I’d post a virtual reading of one of the poems, complete with video slideshow.  This poem, “Fondue,” comes from “The Kitchen Poems” section of the book, seven poems all based on some type of food.  

Future posts will include discussion topics about the book & self-publishing; some background about the composition of the poems; (more) virtual readings; a series called Music Theory for Poets; any noteworthy book news—& more.  Hope you enjoy it!

Writers Talk with Peadar O'Donoghue

It’s a real pleasure to introduce today’s Writers Talk interview subject, Peadar O’Donoghue.  When asked for a brief biography, Peadar wrote: “I’m an Irish poet photographer and editor of The Poetry Bus Magazine. I’ve been published in magazines including The SHOp, Revival, Village, The Dubliner, Magma, Poetry Ireland Review, The Stinging Fly, and online (!) in Ink Sweat And Tears.” 

I’d point out in addition that Mr O’Donoghue is the the proprietor of the always entertaining & often raucuous Totalfeckineejit blog where you can find his poetry, photographs & musings on the meaning of existence—or lack thereof.  This blog gave rise to the popular Poetry Bus series which has spurred creative work from a number of bloggers.  The series eventually took 3-D form in The Poetry Bus Magazine, an excellent publication, which you can purchase here.

Please be sure to check out three poems by Mr O’Donoghue on the Writers Talk blog.  & now: Here’s Peadar!

When did you first realize your identity as a writer?

I don’t think I have yet. I think I am constantly changing, evolving, getting older (obviously), thinking more, gaining knowledge, yet paradoxically understanding  less. I have no set idea of myself as a human being, let alone as a writer. Maybe I was one, maybe I could have been one, maybe I’m yet to be one, maybe I never will be, but I do know I’d quite like to keep tying to be one! I started late and am beginning to feel a sense of running out of time.

Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.
It’s always the same scenario and always at the keyboard. Pen ,or pencil, and paper (I used to have special pens and special notebooks) were once  all I could use, but now it’s exclusively the computer and I’ve got fairly speedy with one finger!  For me writing is the (temporary) resolution of an internal conflict.  I have something , Im not sure what it is, it’s not quite an anger, a hurt, an emotion, a loss, a hunger, an energy, but it  is buried deep inside and is the catalyst of everything I write. Whether it be a poem about love, or a drunken brawl, or the moon, it all comes from the same place. It starts as a mood, becomes feeling then that I have to write, most times drink is involved and music, (I find contemporary music a great inspiration) often it’s in the early hours of the morning, it’s slightly surreal and usually pleasurable no matter how horrible the poem may be. I don’t think I’ve ever written sober, not even answering these questions. I 100% don’t recommend it though. The poem will be written quickly, usually five, ten, up to twenty minutes at the most and I  rarely re-write.  I feel that the magic is in the rawness, a rough diamond, polished pieces are not my style.I’ve tried a few times and the whole thing falls apart. I’m not too hung up on form or style or punctuation or even spelling, within reason of course.  Some writers are alchemists, I’m just a miner, I keep digging mainly coal to keep the fires burning,but if the odd piece of gold turns up now and again then I’m happy!

Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process? (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc)

I rarely submit poems and if I do it’s usually either to The SHOp a (County) Cork based magazine here in Ireland or to Revival in Limerick. The SHOp has been a huge help to me, an encouragement and an inspiration. It’s my favourite magazine.  I don’t really consider anything to be properly published unless it’s in a physical magazine or a book. I’m not a fan of ezines, there’s no romance about them, no magic, no tactile organic earthiness to them, they are cold and clinical.  Ask me again next week though, and I might say I love them!  But for now I think paper magazines have a personality that is often greater than the sum their parts, online mags no matter how good (and there are some splendid ones) are invariably the opposite.  Electronic books are now being foisted on us too as they will make more money. I say fuck money, give me a book that I can keep on the shelf with a book mark in, that can gather dust, that I can admire as an object with a beautiful cover, that I can flick to a certain page and back again instantly with the skin of my hand on a dead ( but replenishable) tree, that I can smell and touch and grow old with. I can even rip it up or burn it if I hate it!  If I got to the stage where someone wanted to publish a collection of my poetry but only as a download, I’d be delighted, but bitterly disappointed too.I know the numbers game but I’d rather ten people had my book on their shelves than a hundred downloads.

How has being a writer affected your relationships?

That’s a tough question.  Collette, my wife, is a good critic and supporter, she takes an interest without being too interested! If she likes something, she’ll let me know, but she wouldn’t pretend and she is really pleased when I get things published. Other people (relatives) have virtually no interest in my writing or my magazine. If anything it irks them. I don’t know why. I don’t tell anyone else that I write, it’s not something I like to be known really, I like to keep it quiet. I guess overall it has a negative effect.

How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any?  This may be a “real” or “virtual” (in more than one sense) community.

I don’t belong to a real group of writers but through the internet I have met other writers. I think the internet is a fantastic tool for this. The Poetry Bus (The Magazine as well as the weekly task) would be nothing without the internet. There is a real community out there that help and support and promote and congratulate/ commiserate with, each other. I’d like to think I’m part of that community. We all get on great, maybe because we never actually meet! I’m joking!

Blogging itself is addictive, exhausting , wasteful, wonderful, affirming, insecurity inducing, bragging and brash, I’m ambivalent about it, but the love far outweighs the hate! It’s a wonderful tool for the ‘poet’up in his lonely garret. There is a huge groundswell in the new online poetry world and spoken events here in Ireland, it has the potential to bcome a revolution. The establishment have the ball and won’t let us play. For years people have been trying to get a touch of the ball and join in. That’s only for a chosen few. So now we are saying ‘Feck it’ we’re getting our own ball and everybody can play.

What are your future goals in terms of writing?

I’d love to dig up a few more lumps of gold, maybe have a book of them. I’m not terribly ambitious I’d also love The Poetry Bus Magazine to survive (financially) and thrive (artistically)

Bonus Question: If your writing were a musical instrument, what would it be?

Without doubt, a second hand electric guitar!