Red Letter Poem #253

 The Red Letters

 

 

In ancient Rome, feast days were indicated on the calendar by red letters.

To my mind, all poetry and art serves as a reminder that every day we wake together beneath the sun is a red-letter day.

––Steven Ratiner

 

   

Red Letter Poem #253

 

 

 

 Two Poems from As If: Variations on Enrique Anderson-Imbert by Steven Cramer

History

His travel grant came through, so where should he go?

The Roaring 20s? The Enlightenment? The Renaissance?



Because he just turned forty, the Middle Ages maybe?

The morning suddenly went dark. When he looked up,



he expected to see clouds, with a remote hint of thunder.

Instead, he saw a giant hand draw back behind the sky,



as if unsure how to move on history’s chessboard: queen,

bishop, knight, rook, pawn? Or stay unmoved like the king?





In the spirit of this forthcoming poetry chapbook, As If––not to mention the Argentinian microcuentos (micro-stories) upon which the poems are based––please indulge my own fantasy: it’s a crowded gathering in the studio of poet/educator/translator/reader-par-excellence Steven Cramer. In one corner, Basho is serving tea to Emily Dickinson, murmuring provocatively. I believe that’s Rimbaud and Rainer Maria Rilke heatedly discussing ‘lyrical innovation’ with Eric Clapton, sipping from rather more potent libations. Huddled on the couch, laughing, Tomas Tranströmer is showing Philip Guston how to use a cell phone to search for ‘wild images.’ Such is the boisterous salon an hospitable poet like Steven maintains inside his cerebral parlor, entertaining all of the influences (artistic and otherwise) which, even after decades, remain formative for an always-evolving imagination. It’s the confluence of these disparate forces that makes this poet’s writing so unpredictable and engaging across seven poetry collections and innumerable essays. His last book, Departures from Rilke (Arrowsmith Press), attempted something rather unorthodox: he didn’t so much attempt ‘translations’ from Rilke’s Neue Gedichte/New Poems as he wholly reimagined them as contemporary texts––both responding to and transforming the originals by channeling them through his own life experience and out into the atmosphere of our 21st century American life. The work of both Rilke and Cramer felt enlarged by the experience.



Perhaps invigorated by that project––and the critical esteem it garnered––Steven began immersing himself in the microcuentos of Enrique Anderson-Imbert (1910-2000), South American fiction writer and scholar. He was intrigued by the unbridled nature of Anderson-Imbert’s vision which, sadly, did not often find an adequate representation in English translation. In the end, Steven selected twenty-one pieces from three collections of short fiction––and what was born originally as prose reemerges here as succinct lyric poems. As If, the chapbook that resulted, will be published by Lily Poetry Review Books sometime this September. In it, the poet has made sure that the playfulness and imaginative reach of the fiction remained intact; the poetry, while distinct, feels to me like a dream-cousin to the original. And so, in a poem like “History,” why shouldn’t the term ‘travel grant’ inspire a more far-reaching sabbatical journey than, say, a few weeks London or Rome? I love how Steven hints at the literary catalog many of us are still carrying inside our weary minds, decades after college. At first, we smile at the whimsical slide from the personal (“Because he just turned forty”) to the historical (visiting “the Middle Ages maybe?”) But when he follows that with: “The morning suddenly went dark,” it’s not unreasonable to hear a distant terza rima echoing in our ears––“Midway on our life’s journey/ I found myself in dark woods,/ the right road lost…”––and the stakes of this little fantasy are suddenly a bit more dire. Or, in another bit of mythic invention, we meet a decidedly more contemporary teenager in “Icarus” who is, nonetheless, still determined to expand his artistic reach. But is he some thrill-seeking hang glider who needs the possibility of plummeting in order to feel his own life as actual? Might the impulse also be to ensure the abiding attention of the parent who gives order to our universe? Or is the poet reminding us, in that final riven stanza, of something we understood in our youth but tend to forget within our older and more cushioned existence? That some radical surrender may be necessary (at least metaphorically) if we’re to finally step beyond the limitation of our bodies and know the universe from a wholly new vantage? Reading through this set of poems, I believe that Steven does indeed desire to chirrup with invented birdsong and to navigate ocean currents with the fish. His poetry reminds us that there are many more experiences, more guests to invite into our celebratory lives, than we’ve yet to imagine.



Icarus


Dad didn’t get my imagination

whenever I chirruped birdsongs,



broke into a trot during our walks,

or made like a whale vacuuming krill.



The last time we flew together,

I wanted the sun to melt the wax



fastening wings to my shoulders.

To feel how a fish breathes water,



I wanted to plunge into the sea.

 The Red Letters

 

* If you would like to receive these poems every Friday in your own in-box – or would like to write in with comments or submissions – send correspondence to:

steven.arlingtonlaureate@gmail.com

 

 

* To learn more about the origins of the Red Letter Project, check out an essay I wrote for Arrowsmith Magazine:

https://www.arrowsmithpress.com/community-of-voices

 

and the Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene

http://dougholder.blogspot.com

 

* For updates and announcements about Red Letter projects and poetry readings, please follow me on BlueSky

@stevenratiner.bsky.social

and on Twitter          

@StevenRatiner

 

And coming soon:

a new website to house all the Red Letter archives at StevenRatiner.com

Poet/Translator/Videographer Nidia Hernandez finds a Haven in America.

 
                       Nidia Hernandez with Doug Holder

By New England Poetry Club board member Doug Holder

I first met Nidia Hernandez at a meeting of the literary group the "Bagel Bards" that was then housed in the basement of the Panera Bread in Porter Square, Cambridge. She had recently arrived from Venezuela--and all ready was in a frenzy of activities for the poetry community. Right off the bat she recorded the poetry of many of our members, and seemed to bring the high holy to our work.

Nidia Hernandez was a refuge from the oppressive Maduro regime in Venezuela. For over three decades she was considered a leading figure in the Latin American poetry scene. She had a long running poetry interview program "La Maja Desnuda." Her radio show was eventually closed down, and she wound up leaving her homeland for the promise of America, and its freedom. Since 2017 she has been an immigrant in this country, and has proved to be a valuable member of the poetry community.

Hernandez who resides in the Jamaica Plain section of Boston, noticed that Silvia Plath's first house-- near Hernandez's own residence--has been overlooked.  Hernandez, a zealot of all things poetry, organized a successful effort to get a plaque on the outside of the house--so it would have more recognition as a valuable literary landmark.

Hernandez continues to record important poets during her stay in this country. Many of them are on Spotify, and can also can be accessed from the Arrowsmith Press website. Hernandez reflected, " I have interviewed poets like, Marie Howe, Charles Simic, Joy Harjo, Robert Pinsky and many others."

She has worked consistently with Askold Melnczuk, the director of the prestigious Arrowsmith Press on a Latin American  Poet Curation project. She featured such poets as Rafael Cardenas, and other writers from Cuba, Venezuela and elsewhere.

When Denise Provost and I were the co-presidents of the New England Poetry Poetry Club-- a venerable literary institution, that was founded by Robert Frost, Amy Lowell and others-- we decided to lead the effort to bring her on the board of directors. She went right to work. She has spearheaded a project to honor the poet Amy Lowell, and even  secured  Massachusetts governor Maura Healey to read a Amy Lowell poem--which she videotaped. She created a string of well-designed posters and flyers, and had done valuable work on our website.

While in the country, Hernandez has completed her first book of poetry " The Farewell Light," a bilingual edition that is a profound compilation on culture, family, language, as well as a critically acclaimed anthology that she edited, " The Invisible Boarders of Time: Five Female Latin American Poets. ( Both Books from the Arrowsmith Press)

Hernandez has truly thrived and contributed to her new homeland as evidenced by her body of work. She is an essential, and notable woman in our poetry community.

For more info on Hernandez go to:   https://www.arrowsmithpress.com/journal/tag/More+by+Nidia+Herna%CC%81ndez

 

Red Letter Poem #252

  The Red Letters

 

 

In ancient Rome, feast days were indicated on the calendar by red letters.

To my mind, all poetry and art serves as a reminder that every day we wake together beneath the sun is a red-letter day.

––Steven Ratiner

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red Letter Poem #252

 

 

 

 

Domicile: Kharkiv, Ukraine


Table and chairs; sofa, ottoman, mattress;

wardrobe, bureau, family photos;

garish wallpaper, ceiling, four walls ...



Table smashed/ chairs: snapped matchsticks/

sofa, ottoman, mattress smoldering/

wardrobe disemboweled/ bureau toppled/

wallpaper shrapnel-pocked/ ceiling gaping/

fourth wall sheared away....

Stage set for tragedy awaiting playwright:

title: Domicile.



Enter: woman in babushka with broom.

Sweeps wood (splinters), crockery (fragments),

glass (shards), masonry (chips) into neat piles;

bends to see smiling faces: (charred photos).


––Mark Pawlak



Long-time readers of the Letters know that, since 2022––when Russia launched yet another invasion of Ukraine––I’ve featured poems every few months spotlighting this terrible conflict. My goal, quite simply, is to offer a continuing reminder of the suffering this democratic ally is being forced to endure, sadly obscured in our current political wrangling. Most often, I’ve brought you the voices of Ukrainian poets, offering first-hand glimpses of what is going on in their homeland. But occasionally, I’ve featured an American poet bearing witness from afar. Today’s Letter features the estimable Mark Pawlak––author of ten poetry collections, and for decades, one of the editors at Hanging Loose Press– offers us a piece from Special Operation, a long sequence of poems from a forthcoming collection he’s currently assembling. In writing to me about his project, Mark expressed his concern for poems “of faux witness or worse, depictions of voyeuristic violence.” His work is neither. Rather, what Mark is doing is documenting the anguish most sensitive observers experience, overwhelmed by the barbarous aggression of a powerful country upon its weaker neighbor. That, and the sense of despair which results from seeing one’s own country abdicate its position as the ‘champion of democracy’ in favor of the narrowest self-interest––as we watch the current administration callously washing its hands of the matter, leaving Ukraine to its fate. And through this, we can’t help but wonder what we, as a people, are becoming.



Mark’s poem begins with a little catalog of household items, impassively detailed: table, chairs, sofa, mattress––the simple elements that signify home. Then he describes what any careful observer has likely culled from newspaper and network accounts: that same home transformed into a scene of utter destruction by a wanton act. Unlike the more “discursive, observational poetics” (as Mark himself described it) of his recent collection Away, Away (Arrowsmith Press,) these new poems were arriving, unbidden, “in the ironic, mordant mode I had employed decades ago” in his collection Special Handling: New and Selected Newspaper Poems. His direct influences are poets like Ernesto Cardinal, Zbigniew Herbert, Charles Reznikoff and especially Bertolt Brecht. (Mark views Brecht’s Deutsche Kriegsfibel––German War Primer––as a direct antecedent.) Sometimes it is a crucial act of conscience to simply not look away. But then the poem takes a turn, carrying us where straight journalism cannot: “Stage set for tragedy awaiting playwright:/ title: Domicile.” Don’t you remember seeing video of whole apartment buildings sliced open by a missile strike? And didn’t each exposed room resemble a little tableau in the theater of cruelty? The phrase “fourth wall sheared away” prisms the context, focusing on both the missing outer shell of the building as well as the theatrical convention separating stage from viewer. Not only must we must accept our role as audience, we’re aware that our ‘safe space’ can be easily violated. The “woman in Babushka” (a ‘character’ that will become a thread throughout this set of poems) is the stolid protagonist in this one-woman tragedy––and when she sweeps up the ‘smiling faces’ from her shattered life, the wellbeing of our own loved ones feels suddenly at risk.



One of the narratives Mark’s poems seem to be conveying: even the buffering presence of oceans bordering our country is no longer a guarantee of protection––if it ever was. Think of the brutal assault on the World Trade Center, or the far-more elusive invader of a virulent germ hitchhiking inside the body of a traveler. What wall keeps such suffering out? Mark’s own family learned this lesson the hard way. Early in the last century, his two grandfathers emigrated from Galicia as that portion of the Austro-Hungarian Empire was dramatically changing hands. One came to America from Krakow (present day Poland;) and the other journeyed here from Lwow (now Lviv in beleaguered Ukraine.) Historian Timothy Schneider’s book about the region is aptly named Bloodlands because of the 14 million deaths authored there by Hitler and Stalin––a brutal tradition Putin seems determined to continue. Clearly, we ignore the affairs of our near and distant neighbors at our own peril––though that historical lesson seems to have been somehow forgotten. Mark reminded me of an old Polish joke––one that I once heard from my own grandfather (who made a similar exodus fleeing similar wars): a peasant comes in from the cold and snow and says to his wife, "Matka, we no longer live in the Soviet Union. We're in Poland now.” "Thank the Lord," she replies. "We’ll no longer have to suffer those terrible Russian winters." These days, there is harsh weather storming across the planet; no home or household will be insulated from those bitter winds.

 

 

 

 

 

The Red Letters

 

* If you would like to receive these poems every Friday in your own in-box – or would like to write in with comments or submissions – send correspondence to:

steven.arlingtonlaureate@gmail.com

 

 

* To learn more about the origins of the Red Letter Project, check out an essay I wrote for Arrowsmith Magazine:

https://www.arrowsmithpress.com/community-of-voices

 

and the Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene

http://dougholder.blogspot.com

 

* For updates and announcements about Red Letter projects and poetry readings, please follow me on BlueSky

@stevenratiner.bsky.social

and on Twitter          

@StevenRatiner

 

And coming soon:

a new website to house all the Red Letter archives at StevenRatiner.com

Romeo and Juliet, a play by William Shakespeare At The Hartford Stage

 Romeo and Juliet

Review of Romeo and Juliet, a play by William Shakespeare

At The Hartford Stage through May 18, 2025

By Andy Hoffman

Definitely worth the trip to see the Hartford Stage production of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Directed by the company’s Artistic Director Melia Bensussen, this instance of the classic possesses both the familiar tragedy of “star-crossed” lovers and much unfamiliar, new without devolving into the strange for strangeness’ sake. Bensussen places the play in colonial Mexico at a moment of historical uncertainty. This setting opens the play to a rich textual vein in Shakespeare’s script, the repeated references to light and dark paired with as much emphasis on love and death. The actors hit those contrasts with just the right weight: enough to strike the ear of the audience without twisting the language into incomprehension. We expect professional productions to render Shakespeare’s verse with clarity, and this production goes beyond merely making his lines intelligible. The actors sound contemporary, finding the humor and the tension that carries the play swiftly through the familiar rough waters of youthful love.

The deceptively simple set proves itself malleable enough to represent the city of Verona, a church, a garden, a public sphere, a private banquet hall, a bedroom. And a crypt, all with almost no disruption of either the stage or the flow of the play. Bensussen and her cast run through Romeo and Juliet with astonishing speed, giving up almost nothing in the process. The set, equipped with a few arches, several entrances, and the simplest suggestion of a balcony, appears a first as textured stone, but as the play goes on the changes in lighting reveal colors and patterns hidden on the paint. These striking, almost magic, transformations of the stage allow the design to seamlessly represent a variety of venues. A few simple devices – lanterns dropped from above, the bed (and later crypt) rising from below – give the actors all they require to establish their setting. The costumes, too, redolent of both 19th Century Mexico and Dia de los Muertos, with their flowers and skulls, carry through the themes of light and dark, love and death. The production demonstrates the mastery The Hartford Stage has achieved under Bensussen.

The performances, too, propel this Romeo and Juliet past standard productions of the Bard. I must single out Carmen Berkeley, who finds strength in Juliet, most frequently portrayed as the object of Romeo’s random passion. Juliet’s strength in this production doesn’t come from her beauty, though she surely has that, but rather from her self-knowledge. Shakespeare’s script can reduce Juliet to a pawn in the Capulet family’s political positioning, but Berkeley presents her as a young woman with the power of self-determination. The cast around Juliet, with one exception, leans into her strength, supporting her as she drives the action of the play. Juliet’s parents, played by Gerardo Rodriguez and Eva Kaminsky, Annmarie Kelly as her nurse, put Juliet’s power at the center of the performance and help make this production as effective as it is. The remainder of the cast shapes the movement of the play, keeping the pace breathless. Alejandra Escalante, as Mercutio, deserves special notice. Romeo here becomes the one weak link in the cast, perhaps because his power recedes as Juliet’s blossoms, but I couldn’t help but feel that an actor with better chops than Niall Cunningham could have found a way to make Romeo more compelling even as Carmen Berkeley shines.

Melia Bensussen has done more than simply direct a fresh production of a Shakespeare classic, itself a remarkable accomplishment. She has also opened the play to new insights and new emotions, at least for me. In addition to the tragic and well-worn love story, this production made me see a strong political message, one that could transcend the long-settled quarrels of Elizabethan England. In that time, after the religious violence of Henry VIII and Queen Mary – persecuting first Catholics and then Protestants – Elizabeth navigated a difficult line that maintained an uneasy peace. Shakespeare himself came from a family with long-standing Catholic ties and therefore lived in and benefitted from this truce. In addition to the passion shared by Romeo and Juliet, they can also be seen as two faces of Christianity – or two sides of any political conflict – and Romeo and Juliet as a plea to create peace before that passion destroys them both and Verona with them. Congratulations to the entire production, with special laurels for its director and its Juliet.

Somerville Poets: Meeting for Voices of Somerville: The Documentary

 

There will be a meeting on May 10th at 12:30 PM about a documentary that is going to produced about Somerville Poets... It will be at the Bloc Cafe in Union Square at 12:30PM. Hope to see you there!

Voices of Somerville

_A Celebration of Poets and Poetry

Logline

Voices of Somerville is a short documentary that captures the vibrant poetry scene in Somerville, Massachusetts, exploring the diverse voices of local poets and the impact of poetry as a medium for connection and cultural expression within the community.
Project Overview

This 20-30 minute documentary will delve into the rich tapestry of Somerville's poetry community, showcasing notable poets and poetry groups such as the New England Poetry Club, Ibbetson Street Press, Bagel Bards and Červená Barva Press. Through interviews, live poetry readings, and community events, the film will highlight the significance of poetry in fostering dialogue and understanding among residents. The documentary aims to document the artistic contributions of poets like Lloyd Schwartz, Doug Holder, and Gloria Mindock est., emphasizing their influence on both local culture and the broader literary landscape. By showcasing poetry readings and workshops, Voices of Somerville will celebrate the power of words to connect individuals and inspire collaboration among artists across various mediums.

This documentary will not only preserve the voices of Somerville's poets but also encourage a deeper appreciation for the literary arts within the community, inviting viewers to engage with and explore the transformative power of poetry in their own lives.

Somerville Puppeteer Faye Dupras: An art form that is hardly wooden.

 

Interview with Doug Holder

Recently I caught up with Faye Dupras--a puppeteer -- based here --in the Paris of New England. I asked her about her life and work.


How has it been for you as an artist moving to and living in Somerville? 

 I moved to the US in 2001 to pursue an MFA in puppetry arts at UConn. I planned to return to Montreal after my studies. However, during this period I met my now husband who is American.

 It wasn’t until I moved to Somerville in 2011 that I felt truly at home this side of the border. I recognized immediately that I could find like-minded people in terms of social action and in artistic practice. I also liked the cultural and economic diversity in the city.

 Having said that, the demographics of the city have changed a lot since I came and many of my friends and peers have been priced out of the city.

 I love how the city and the Somerville Arts Council works hard to try and support the arts and local artists.

A huge asset of living in Somerville is having access to Vernon Street studios. When I first moved to Somerville two Vernon Street studio artists allowed me to display my puppets in their studio during open studios. This was a great way to introduce myself to the community and kick started meeting other local artists and future collaborators (like longtime collaborator Jason Slavick of Liars and Believers.) I now rent my own studio at Vernon which has accelerated my practice.


The puppets you use are beautifully rendered. Their faces almost seem like texts from a story.

Do you create your own puppets? If so, what is the process?

I was drawn to puppetry because it’s a multidisciplinary art form. I could be a visual artist, performer, script writer, and producer under one umbrella discipline. I started as a designer builder / builder but now I work more as a writer/producer.


Who builds the puppets?

 The puppets on my fayedupras.com website are designed and built (or co-designed & built) by me.

 The puppets on my cozyarts.org website are designed by Puppet Kitchen (a NY based company run by a friend of mine) My mentor, Noreen Young’s, way of training an apprentice was to employ them. She hired me to costume puppets. They expanded to puppet props and puppet bodies.

 She worked in television. I was grateful for the opportunities she gave me but decided to move to Montreal to go to Concordia and pursue a BFA in “Drama in Human Development” This program combined my love of puppetry with my interest in the social applications of arts (drama in education, drama therapy, community-engaged theater)

I was very influenced by my time living and working in Montreal. In the late nineties the arts scene was very interdisciplinary and experimental. I worked with dancers, instillation artists, and electro acoustic sound designers.

It was an exciting time to be an artist! I was very attracted to the idea of imaged based theater as a vehicle for metaphor and the power of puppetry (see uncanny valley below)

 Perhaps this is why you see the poetry in the puppets because they are designed in direct relationship to the story, the research, and/or the emotion we are trying to solicit in the audience.



Is there a point in your art when you feel like a puppet—and the actual puppet is telling you what to do? I know in writing poetry, when you are in a groove—the pen or pencil seems to take control-- and you become a tool.

 Once you’ve learned your puppet (ie how it moves, breaths, thinks, etc.) and your lines and/or blocking, it is easy to get into a groove where it can become unclear where you end and the puppet begins (or vice versa). This is especially true for me when performing more poetic puppetry forms with no spoken language. With language-based television puppets this can happen, but it’s often very silly and playful rather than poetic and surprising.

W hen devising image-based puppetry theater this often happens. The artist becomes a vessel for the story to emerge from. I should mention that by the time I am in the rehearsal room working on my feet to create the story I’ve spent up to a year researching the project, writing about the project (grants) and working with a team of artists to think deeply after the project. The experience of letting go of self and being swept up in the creative process is fueled by equal parts inspiration and preparation.-

I can relate to getting in a groove in your work. I very much relate to this sentiment when building puppets. When I was doing more design work, it was a common experience to look up after a couple of hours of work and discover I’d actually been sculpting for 6+ hours.

My brother Donald Holder was the original lighting designer for the " Lion King" on Broadway. Was this play an inspiration for you?

First of all – very cool!!

When I first discovered I wanted to be a puppeteer I read “Playing with Fire” by Julie Taymor and decided I wanted to be the next JT. I was also very influenced by Philippe Genty, Robert Lepage, and Ronnie Burkett

 It was hard to figure out how to be a puppeteer in the 90s – no internet to find tutorials and only a handful of institutions around the world where you could study it. (I was lucky to find a mentor)

 The Lion King did a lot for us puppeteers in the late 90’s early 2000’s. It opened up the general public’s understanding of the art form. Before then, when I told people I was a puppeteer people would say “I love Jim Henson!” or “Can you perform at my kid’s birthday party.” It was hard on a young serious artist’s ego to have to explain that this isn’t what I do. Ironically, after years of creating metaphor image-based stage work I am now branching into TV style puppetry (Cozy Arts project).



Do you think puppets could pull off a meaningful performance of say... A Chekov play, or would they—pardon the pun—be too wooden?

 Puppets can enhance an audience’s ability to see past the text and tap into the heart of the meaning behind the words because of their uncanniness. The "uncanny valley" in puppetry refers to the unsettling feeling evoked when puppets or dolls appear almost human, but not quite, causing a sense of unease or even revulsion. This phenomenon, rooted in the psychological experience of something familiar yet unsettling, is closely related to Sigmund Freud's concept of the uncanny. Puppets, with their blend of the animate and inanimate, can trigger this unsettling feeling, highlighting the human tendency to project our own desires and anxieties onto objects. 
Because puppets can do things people can’t, like come apart into pieces, or appear in multiple places at once in a variety of sizes, they can be more effective than live actors.




Tell us about your work with children. What do you explore?

 Our collective humanity, our resilience in the face of trials, and how we recognize and nurture our inherent capacity for love and justice. In my work with children, I mostly focus on the 3rd question.

I explore this through the lens of “feelings, friendship, and fairness” and children’s capacity to contribute positively to community building.

In school settings this means supporting the Social Emotional Learning curriculum.