BillyBlog

Monday, October 04, 2004

From the Archives: Geraldine Dodge Poetry Festival, 2004

"It's like I'm dog-paddling in the ocean. I keep paddling until I come across a piece of driftwood. I cling to it. I keep paddling, but I at least have something to hold onto. I keep picking up pieces of driftwood. Eventually, I have enough where only part of me is in the ocean. I keep going, adding as I find things. Eventually, I only have to paddle. Then I have a boat. And finally I have a vessel that can take me places. When I strike land, I am finished."

I though it was a nice metaphor.

When the session was over, I approached for signing. She blank-signed my first of My Wicked Wicked Ways, my hardcover first of Wicked Ways, my first of Loose Woman, her page in my United States of Poetry anthology, and her page, Texas, in my NEA publication Writing America. [Click the Writing America link gives you a 112-page pdf file available for download - it's an amazing and scarce publication].

I then plodded downhill to the "Gingko Lane Tent." Concurrent with the Cisneros event was "Conversation: Going Public with Private Feelings." All the panelists were still lingering about, chatting and signing books. I first had Stephen Dunn sign 5 copies of my Best American Poetry (BAP). He signed '89, '91, '92, '93 and '03. He did not seem to be in very good shape. He had terrible hand tremors and apologized for not signing things nicely. I expressed my gratitude for his taking the time to sign everything for me.

Galway Kinnell was around, but I didn't have anything for him to sign, yet. I have seen Kinnell at least a half a dozen times, so he has signed all my BAPs. I did catch Jane Hirshfield and reminded her of meeting me at Dodge '00. I thanked her again for signing my Poetry in Motion poster of "The Groundfall Pear" which is hanging in my office. I also got her to sign BAP '99, '01 and '04. Then, I hovered while Edward Hirsch chatted with some people for an interminable amount of time. Then, I had him sign BAP '03 and told him how much I enjoyed his weekly poetry column with The Washington Post.

Next, I went back to the car to dump the Cisneros books and reorganize my big bag o' poems.

I headed back and faced the conundrum of the "Poets Among Us" problem. These poets are the lesser ones, who do readings for an hour in groups of three. I had caught some of them while waiting for Ed Hirsch, but there were 18 poets reading simultaneously so I had to choose based on "most bang for the buck" vis-a-vis my BAP series. I caught the tail end of the trio of Catherine Doty, Wesley McNair and James Richardson. McNair signed my BAP '89 and '99 at the "Smartweeds Tent". I then ran over to the "Gingko Lane Tent" and had David Ray sign my BAP '99. There I had the embarrassing moment of the day when Ray, signing a poem about Hemingway, asked if I liked the Hemingway poem he had read just moments earlier. Of course, I was over at Smartweeds and had to fess up that I had missed the reading. Oh well. Then, the guy from Ginkgo that I did hear, Jim Daniels, signed my BAP '00.

I stopped by the Borders tent and picked up a paperback [Here There Was Once a Country] by the Lebanese poet Venus Khoury-Ghata, who was reading next at the Main Stage. She was reading with Marilyn Hacker, and they alternated reading Venus' poems, Hacker in English, Venus in French. Of note, was a long sequence about a cherry tree disappearing from her family yard the night of a big storm, and the fiction invented by the children that the tree had gone to America to make it big. The Main Tent featured signings after each reading, but they goofed and forgot to tell Khoury-Ghata to come to the signing. Right after she read, Paul Muldoon read.

Despite the difficult of his poems, I always enjoy his readings because of his self-deprecating Irish humor.

Post-reading, he came over, as did Khoury-Ghata and Hacker. I was at the head of the Muldoon line and he signed my BAP '03 and '04. I then hopped over to the Hacker/Khoury-Gata table and Ms. Hacker signed the book of Venus she had translated, her poem in BAP '92 and added another signature to my Toronto friend Brian's AIDS anthology, Poets for Life. Sorry, Brian, that's the only book of yours I had in tow. Then, Ms. Khoury-Ghata signed the book Hacker had
inscribed, but despite the simplicity of my name, she could not understand, so it is inscribed to Beuld, or something like that. Oh well.

Jane Hirshfield read on the main stage next. There was a bit of awkwardness when Jim Haba, the Dodge Poetry Festival organizer began his introduction of her, "Jane Kenyon is from Mill Valley...." He went on for at least a minute before someone signaled him and corrected him. Jane Kenyon died several years back and her husband, Donald Hall, was at the festival but I'm not sure if he was in the tent at the time. Anyway, she read some very moving poetry, including some work about Rwanda and Sudan that was very sobering. She ended with a very moving elegy to Czeslaw Milosz, the Nobel Laureate who had just passed back in August. It was the first time she had ever read it and professed to be very nervous about it. At the signing after the reading, she inscribed my proof of her last book Given Sugar, Given Salt, as well as her entry in the anthology First Loves, which is a book where poets introduce poems that first inspired them. I told her how much I had enjoyed the Milosz tribute and that it was his anthology A Book of Luminous Things where I had first read one of her poems.

Next, was Adonis (pronounced Ah-doh-neese), a Syrian poet who read in tandem with a

translator, the Libyan-born Khaled Mattawa (a "Poet Among Us"). It was fascinating hearing the four poets in succession, the Lebanese French of Khoury-Ghata, the Irish Brogue of Muldoon, the plain American peacefulness of Hirshfield, and then the Arabic of Adonis. At the signing after the event, I just had Mattawa sign his entry in BAP '96. Nothing for Adonis.

Break time. I grabbed a bite at the food tent and ate it on the way back to the car. Shuffling of books and planning for the rest of the day. Sound exhausting? It was only 3:00 PM. I had 7 hours to go! Ah, I love Dodge! I was invigorated as I walked back the half-mile from the parking field and two deer galloped by fifty yards away.

There were several concurrent sessions next and I went to the one called "Finding Poetry's Inner Music, Saying the Unsaybale." The panelists were Coleman Barks, Marilyn Chin, Yusef Komunyakaa and C.K. Williams. This was a lively group and consisted mostly of Q&A. Some of the questions people were asking were pretty bizarre. Is there anything that is unsayable in the 21st century. Several people stated that everything was said in the 90's and nothing shocked
anymore, then we talked about The Patriot Act, and Barks praised Williams, who thanked Barks and then Chin scolded them for their male bonding. I was interested in meeting Chin, who was one of the performers at Dodge '94

and was featured in the Bill Moyers' special The Language of Life, which was such a transcendent series for me. She was very friendly and signed her entry in The Language of Life book, her entry in BAP '96, and an old copy of a poem in an old issue of The
Iowa Review. The production of this Iowa Review caused Chin to regale me loudly as a "top-class collector!"

Williams signed his book The Singing (all of these are first editions, by the way, unless otherwise noted) and BAP '03. Komunyakaa signed his new book Taboo and BAP '03 and BAP '04 and the aforementioned First Loves anthology.

I ran to the "Mermaid Fountain Tent" to see if I could catch Donald Hall. He was there with Jane Hirshfield. Weird, considering the gaffe by Haba earlier. I thought it best not to bring it up. Billy Collins was ill, as I learned from signs posted that he would only be appearing on Sunday. Bummer. I was last in line for Hall, who signed BAP '99, '00,'01, and '02. He also signed a Poetry in Motion poster , the poem "Sew":

Sew

She kneels on the floor, snip snip

in the church of scraps,

tissue like moth's wings,

pins in the cushion of her mouth,

basting and hemming

until it stands up like a person

made out of whole cloth.

Still, I like folded

on the bolt in the dark warehouse,

dreaming my shapes.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I then stopped by Jane Hirshfield, who said "Hi Bill!" I showed her the Book of Luminous Things she had signed for me 4 years earlier and showed her where Milosz had inscribed it for me.

I then ran to the Gingko Lane tent, where they had been discussing "Poetry and Class" but Lucille Clifton, Philip Levine and Joyce Carol Oates had already left. But, I was consoled by Franz Wright, this year's Pulitzer winner who signed my Milosz anthology. I then walked over to "The Little Blue Stem" tent to get in line to do an open reading. I was standing there thinking how unusual it was that Wright was not in any BAP anthologies. I double-checked my spreadsheet to discover, alas, he was in BAP '92. I looked back at the Gingko Tent, but the musicians from the Ecuadorian band Yarina were playing and Wright had disappeared. My one big goof of the day.

I stood in line for about 45 minutes and then read to about 40 people, "Your Love is A Machete," for Shayna, which many of you have seen in the past week [click here to read it]. I got cheers. The next guy came up and started "I believe in the economy of words, so this will be short." It sounded like a shot at my poem, which didn't seem very long, but did have a lot of superfluous information in it. Later in the evening I wrote a response poem called "I Believe in the Economy of Words". If you want to see either of these poems, let me know and I will send them.

A little bit later, I went for my final trip to the car for reshuffling. This time, when I returned, the bag was noticeably lighter. Hurrah.

Home stretch. Reading from Cecilia Vicu ñ a, Peruvian, shamanistic, incredible, artistic. Imagine if Yoko Ono could sing less in an avant-garde style, and she sang poetry, that was what Vicu ñ a was like. Of course, I didn't have anything for her to sign, and still enjoyed her. So it's not all about the signing. Incredible irony: today at a garage sale I picked up an art/poetry anthology called ClothesLines. It includes a poem by, you guessed it, Vicu ñ a.

Next, Ed Hirsch, who was good, and who later signed his poem in an old May Swenson anthology called American Sports Poems. He seemed surprised to see it. Then, Joyce Carol Oates, who was surprisingly good and good-natured. She read a poem called "$" and talked about Donald

Trump, taking a shot at him, saying he didn't read, although he might have someone read to him. After her reading, she signed one of her novels that she had written as Rosamond Smith (Starr Bright Will Be with You Soon), a book put out by the New York Public Library called A Commonplace Book, and my First Loves anthology.

Then, the best of the evening, Philip Levine, who was very powerful and when he mentioned that he lived in brooklyn now, some dopes on the other side of the tent started screaming, he retorted, "That's it, I'm moving to Queens." The best part was when he was joined by Dave Douglas on trumpet and Uri Caine on piano. He read his wonderful poem "They Feed They Lion" to jazz accompaniment and then finished with two poems by Federico Garcia Lorca, most notably "New York (Office and Denunciation)".

When Levine signed, I introduced myself and said I had come to his office a few years back, "Yeah," he said, "you had a stack of books." Of course, in front of me I had a few, which he signed, the Richard Howard anthology Preferences, BAP '03, Jorie Graham's ECCO anthology, The Paris Review Anthology, First Loves, The Simple Truth (shocker! One of his books!) and an old Iowa Review in which he is interviewed by the novelist Howard Norman. He wasn't unhappy to see me go.

Finally, Galway Kinnell and Sharon Olds did their joint reading thing that they always do at Dodge. It's a melange of their own poems and poems of others, alternating on a theme. This year it was "Marriage, A Conversation in Poems." They always bring the house down and this was no exception. Galway signed for me: Graham's ECCO anthology, an old Salmagundi magazine (thanks Brian), that NYPL book Oates also signed and The Paris Review anthology.

I had one thing for Olds, but the line was too long, it was almost 10, and it was only a poem in an issue of Ploughshares. Next time I catch her in NYC.

So, an amazing day. As I mentioned in my first e-mail, not only was the poetry great, but I fed my other obsession, collecting signatures in my ever-expanding repertoire of anthologies and literary magazines. 19 poets, 57 signatures in 31 different items. And if you think that's excessive, I missed Billy Collins and the chance to sign another Poetry in Motion poster. Also, I had two books for Lucille Clifton, who I missed completely, plus I had a book for Hall forgot to get signed, another anthology and 6 magazines that never made it out of the car.

But I'm not complaining.

Thanks for indulging me. Next Dodge is in 2006. Anyone want to join me?

Friday, December 05, 2003

From the Archives, P.S.A. Chapbook Reading, December 5, 2003

This is part of my "From the Archives" series, which consists of texts from e-mails I sent to friends describing my experiences at poetry events. I may have taken some small editorial liberties with these texts, and I have included related pictures and hyperlinks, but these are all BBB (Before BillyBlog). Remember, for me readings are enjoyable for two separate reasons: the love of poetry, and the mania for collecting. I am who I am. Enjoy!

The following is the text of an e-mail to two friends about the Poetry Society of America's inaugural reading for its first Chapbook Contest winners, in which the winners read with the judges who selected their work.

Subject: PSA reading
Date: Fri, 05 Dec 2003

Good day gents:

Last night I attended:

Poetry Society of America Chapbook Reading
The Poetry Society of America presents a poetry reading of this year's prize-winning chapbooks with the winners, Paul Killebrew, Dawn Lundy Martin, Tess Taylor, Kerri Webster (bios of the four winners here), and the judges, John Ashbery, Eavan Boland, Carl Philips, and C.D. Wright.

It was a groovy reading.

First Ashbery read from Chinese Whispers, the introduced Killebrew who was good, read from his chap [entitled Forget Rita], then a poem called "John Fuckin' Ashbery" that went over well. Then Eavan Boland read. She stunk. Irish Potato Famine. Big deal. Way too serious.

[Note from the future: I'm guessing I was a bit too harsh on Ms. Boland at the time. However, these were my thoughts shortly after the event. I didn't want to self-censor myself here, although my lack of any constructive criticism is telling, for sure.]

Then Tess Taylor. She was mediocre and rather overdramatic.

[Again, perhaps my demeanor was tainted by these poets' successes vis-a-vis my relative lack of accomplishment.]

Then Carl Phillips, best of the established poets.

[Another interjection, the poetry establishment, I'm sure, would object to Phillips being regarded as better than John Ashbery, who is poetic royalty. Even I, in retrospect, raise my eyebrows at this statement.]

He was funny, ending with a hilarious homoerotic poem about cowboys. His poet Kerri Webster was very good with a series of poems loosely based on Joseph Cornell's work. Finally C.D. Wright, who was forgettable and her choice Dawn Lundy Martin, a short-haired African-American young woman whose sexual imagery was too violent and stark for my liking.

[Another interjection from the future. I'm a bit disappointed in my recollection of the reading. As you will see when I post the 2004 and 2005 recaps later on --sadly, I missed the 2006 event--I was still a bit short-sighted when it came to appreciating a good evaluation of these readings. My apologies to any of the poets who may be off-put by my retroactive dismissal of their work. This year, it seemed, I was more about the signing afterwards, than the reading itself.]

The reception was chaos. I pounced on Ashbery who signed Wakefulness, Girls on the Run and And the Stars Were Shining. Then I got Boland to sign her contributions in the Pinsky-edited America's Favorite Poems and my anthology First Loves: Poets Introduce the Essential Poems That Captivated and Inspired Them. Then I nabbed Carl Phillips, who was very flirty with me as we talked about the National Book Award reading I saw him at a few years back. He signed his contribution [the poem "A Mathematics of Breathing"] in The Best of the Best American Poetry, and his pages [the poem "Alba: Innocence"] in the volume of Ploughshares guest edited by Yusef Komunyakaa and [the poem "Of That City, the Heart"] in The Paris Review (#148, Fall 1998). I thanked him for signing them and told my J.D.McClatchy story about his empathizing with my mania for obssessive collecting. Phillips recalled a story McClatchy tells about how, as a young poet, J.D. asked W.H. Auden to sign a book and Auden had J.D. turn his back and used his back as a table to lean the book against.

I then went out to the foyer for a glass of wine. There I got C.D. Wright to sign her entries in Pinsky's The Handbook of Heartbreak: 101 Poems of Lost Love and Sorrow, my NEA Writing America booklet (now signed by poets from 12 of the 50 states, one of my favorite items) and above Ferlinghetti in my United States of Poetry book. Wright was kind of cold and dismissive.

Then I spotted David Lehman and had him sign my Best American Poetry 2002. I had my printout (23 pages) listing all the items I had with me and every poet appearing in them. It came in handy, but alas, Vijay Seshadri and Marie Ponsot had already signed what I had with them as contributors. I did also get Alice Quinn, The New Yorker poetry editor to sign her forward in First Loves. We chatted about the project. How the editor [Carmela Ciuraru] had asked several poets to write the intro, but they all wanted to contribute instead (it's a book with poets introducing poems that inspired them as young writers), so Alice ended up writing the forward. She recommended, if I liked this book, which I do, to check out something Richard Howard did with the poems of Elizabeth Bishop. But I can't seem to find it on the net (the title eludes me and I can't track it down). More later. [I later grabbed a copy online, it is called Preferences: 51 American Poets Choose Poems From Their Own Work and From the Past (1974).]

Anyway, I caught John Ashbery again and had him sign my friend Brian's Strand anthology [The Contemporary American Poets] (merry holidays!) and then went back to good old Carl and had him sign 3 more Best American Poetry volumes, flirting shamelessly. Yes, boys, I've resorted to whoring myself for signatures.

In addition, I purchased the 4 chapbooks ($20 for the set, nice little "first book" items) by the new poets, all of which I got inscribed.

Totals for the night: 10 poets, 21 signatures.

Plus, I hit 12th Street Books before the reading and found a nice hardcover copy of e.e. cummings' 95 Poems ($7.95) and a 1st edition of Sandra Cisneros' Loose Woman ($5.00).

Not a bad night,

Bill

p.s. Doppelganger was there. Baseball hat. No leg cast.

Tuesday, April 29, 2003

From the Archives: Louise Gluck and Mark Strand at the Russian Samovar (April 29, 2003)

I am not thinking of Death, but Death is thinking of me.
He leans back in his chair, rubs his hands, strokes
His beard and says, “I’m thinking of Strand, I’m thinking
That one of these days I’ll be out back, swinging my scythe
Or holding up my hourglass to the moon, and Strand will appear
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
O let it be soon. Let it be soon.

[This poem subsequently appeared in his book Man and Camel.]

He read something from Blizzard of One

& then a 7-part piece he did for a classical chamber music piece --Haydn? [It was, in fact, Haydn’s Seven Last Words of Christ. You can read about this piece further in a review of Strand's book Man and Camel, in which this work appears. The review is here, in the blog One Poet's Notes]

Hmmm. L.G. looked scrunched & unhappy the whole time. I approached her post-Strand for signings. She signed/inscribed 2 of her books to me (Vita Nova & Meadowlands, then Writing America [NEA-published pb from a few years back... I've never seen another and mine is signed by Robert Pinsky, Linda Pastan, Rita Dove, Joy Harjo, Alberto Ríos, Mark Strand, J.D. McClatchy, Phillip Levine, Charles Wright, Louise Glück and John Haines, each writer representing a state.], my spare copy of CAP [The Contemporary American Poets] & her ed. of BAP [The Best American Poetry] (93). 5 signs in all. I had more, but....

But she was in a bad mood, remember? I was saying, please sign, blah blah then:

BC [duh, me] - I've been in New York for 7 years, this is the first chance I've got to hear you read.

LG - Well, I'm sorry this was your introduction to me.

BC - What do you mean?

LG - It was dreadful! The sound was bad, there was too much noise, I couldn't hear myself think!

BC - It wasn't so bad.

LG looks at me like that was an underhanded remark. I recognize this, stammer:

BC - I've been to several readings here and there have been much wor---(I catch myself)

She is regarding me with a you-better-quit-while-you're-ahead look, a there's-nothing-you-can- say-that-will-make-me-feel-better look.

BC -Thank you for signing my books.

LG - (A look that acknowledges my thanks, while letting me know she is done with me)

Strand, however, was jovial & inscribed a pb copy of his Selected Poems (top on a stack of 5) "Could you inscribe it?" I asked.

Strand replied, "Inscribe it, eh? It's worth less that way."

I coyly respond, "Oh, I don't know about that!"

Then, he blank-signed the CAP anthology on the title page, BAP 2000, First Loves, and BAP 93.

Hey, I'm out of practice, 2 poets, 11 signs. not too shabby.

And I score points for getting home, pulling in 95th St at 9:20pm!

++++FIN++++

I recreated the journal entry as it was written, without the candy wrapper, of course, which is taped to the page of the journal.

Think Louise will remember me? It is doubtful she'll ever do the Samovar again.

Wednesday, October 17, 2001

From the Archives: Hayden Carruth, 80th Birthday Tribute, October 17, 2001

This is part of my "From the Archives" series, which consists of texts from e-mails I sent to friends describing my experiences at poetry events. I may have taken some small editorial liberties with these texts, and I have included related pictures and hyperlinks, but these are all BBB (Before BillyBlog). Remember, for me readings are enjoyable for two separate reasons: the love of poetry, and the mania for collecting. I am who I am. Enjoy!

Subject: HAYDEN CARRUTH
Date: Thu, 18 Oct 2001 12:20:49 -0400

Well, as a reading went, it was successful. As a signing, not so.

I am now a member of the Poetry Society of America, by the way. Woo hoo! The reading started late, about 15 minutes so, and everyone came out but Mr. Carruth, who then emerged very slowly, shuffling with a cane. He did not look good. It was an interesting exercise to compare him to Richard Wilbur. [I had seen Wilbur read earlier in the month at the Guggenheim.] They are both 80 years old, but Wilbur acted 10 years younger and Carruth acted 20 years older. It did not bode well for signing.

The reading commenced with some words from Alice Quinn. Then David Budbill read. He was very funny and animated. Then Marilyn Hacker. She was good, but nothing to write Toronto about. Then Sam Hamill read. Sam is HC's publisher at Copper Canyon Press (they'll sell you signed Carruth broadsides, by the way, for $45). [Not anymore. But you can still buy Copper Canyon broadsides here]. Sam was rather dull. Then Galway Kinnell read and he rocked. He talked about the only time he and Hayden had ever had a tiff, when Hayden visited a few years back and "he was chainsawing like crazy in my apartment. HA! Did I say chainsawing? I meant chain-smoking! Although, in Hayden's case, chainsawing wouldn't be out of the question,." At this point, the audience was laughing and Mr. C, who was pretty much immobile, shook with laughter. It was the first sign of emotion, nay, the first sign of life, he showed since taking the stage.

Then, Joe-Anne McLaughlin-Carruth read. She's Hayden's wife and was extremely eccentric. She had what can best described as a "squeaky" voice and she read a poem she had written about Hayden's two previous wives. It was just so off the wall, I don't think anyone got it. Bizarre! She had fire red long hair and wore this weird outfit with long opaque sleeves. Then Grace Paley, who didn't come, didn't read. The Adrienne Rich told anecdotes and read. She was swell. Then Jean Valentine read from Hayden's letters, namely letters he had written to Jane Kenyon when she was dying. They were truly marvelous. The high point for me at least.

Then Hayden got up and shuffled slowly to the podium. There was a long ovation. He responded by taking the two microphones and bumping their heads together in applause, then remarked on how they looked like alien antennae. He then rambled a bit, somewhat coherently, about how old age had made him forgetful and said, "Can you imagine, coming to a reading at a place like this and forgetting to bring a book?" He then turned around to beseech his friends for help. He got a book from Galway, The Norfolk Poems of Hayden Carruth. "A rather pretentious title," remarked Mr. C. He then a read a poem about Adolf Eichmann that was very very good. Then he apologized for his voice, which sounded like a chain smoker's voice, because his throat had been damaged by a heart attack he had a few years ago. He then proceeded to read a second poem, then stopped, I think, midway and apologized that he could not go on because of his voice. That was that.

People applauded, and stood. I said to [my friend] Pam [who had accompanied me to the reading] that Hayden would probably not be signing, especially as I noticed that as he read, his hands shook terribly.

Then it was showtime and there was chaos. I can tell you this, Adrienne Rich disappeared without a trace. Not bad for a woman who has difficulty walking. People went up on stage and Janet [my other friend who had joined me] prodded me to go up there. It didn't look initially like he was signing, then it did. But I made a call that I would later regret. I figured if he's up there, he's not going anywhere fast, I'll save him for last. Despite the presence of a lovely helper, it was a challenge. I had 21 books for 7 people, and I tried to divide the labor effectively. I approached David Budbill first, and he signed The Best American Poetry [BAP] '89. As he finished, who should be on stage with him (I was below the stage on the floor), but El Doppelganger, smelling much better than Sunday (or not smelling at all, I should say), and he introduced himself to Budbill as "Frank". I prefer Doppelganger. And yes, he wore a baseball cap. I then got Galway Kinnell to sign BAP 01. Meanwhile, Pam was waiting to get Ms. Hacker. Doppelganger was hot on my heels with Galway as well. I kept going back and forth between my bags and the stage so as not to confuse myself. Pam got Marilyn H to sign (not inscribe and date) the Ploughshares. Then I got her to sign BAP 95 and 98, and the Academy of American Poets 50 yr anthology. We then figured on getting on stage for Mr. C. We waited and waited. Jean Valentine walked by. Doppelganger was four or five people ahead of me. HC signed some things, but I saw no other dealers there. Then he posed for photos and then Sam Hamill said "Sorry, we have a dinner to attend. No more autographs." Doppelganger looked disappointed, but packed up his stuff. I figured as much. Then I saw Sharon Olds with Gerald Stern and Grace Schulman (I felt so knowledgeable). I got a slight consolation prize as Sharon signed her page in BAP 01. "This is a nice pen!" she exclaimed. I would have had shots at Stern, but my master list killed the printer paper at R, so I didn't have it to tell me Stern was in Jorie Graham's Ecco anthology, which I had with me. A cursed book, it seems, as I missed Galway on that score too. I also missed that Olds was in BAP 99. Meanwhile, Pam was getting Jean Valentine's signatures in my BAP 89 and 96, and in [my friend] Brian's Poets for Life. We somehow missed Hacker in that book too. Sorry Brian.

As we left, HC was in the lobby with Sam Hamill, who was being very protective. I heard him say sternly that Hayden was not signing any more because he was tired. I would have taken a shot, but I was intimidated by the fact that Sharon Olds, Marilyn Hacker and Gerald Stern were standing by and I didn't want to look like a scoundrel. Brian, on the other hand, I explained to Pam, would have not cared and succeeded in either getting everything signed, or having Sam Hamill chase him from the building angrily.

All in all: here's the score sheet. Out of 6/21/28 (6 poets, 21 books, 28 signatures possible), we hit on 4+1/8/9+1. The +1 is Olds, as a bonus. But Rich and Carruth were goose eggs and accounted for 15 of these signatures and 9 of the books that went untouched.

But, what's important here is the poetry, and the fact that I may have witnessed Mr. Carruth's last appearance, most definitely in NYC. It would not surprise me if the next time I hear his name in conjunction with a reading, it will be for a tribute at the 92nd Street Y.

As a postscript, Mr. Carruth is a lot sturdier than I thought. God bless him for that. He celebrated his eighty-sixth birthday this past August 3.

Here follows a review of the event from the Poets & Writers website:

HAYDEN CARRUTH AT 80:
POSTCARD FROM NEW YORK CITY

postmark 10.19.01

An audience of over two hundred people attended a birthday tribute to the poet Hayden Carruth on October 17 in Manhattan. The event, which was sponsored by the Poetry Society of America, Poets House, the NYU Creative Writing Program, the Academy of American Poets, the YMCA National Writer's Voice, and Copper Canyon Press, was held at the Great Hall of Cooper Union on the corner of Twelfth Avenue and Seventh Street. Carruth, who turned 80 in August, recently published Doctor Jazz: Poems 1996-2000 (Copper Canyon, 2001).

Marilyn Hacker, Galway Kinnell, Joe-Anne McLaughlin, Adrienne Rich, Jean Valentine, and other friends and peers of Carruth read his poetry, which is collected in nearly 30 books published during the last half-century, and shared memories of their personal relationships with the poet.

"The only way to pave a road is to pour asphalt," the poet David Budbill remembered Carruth saying, in reference to the work ethic of a writer. Poet and founding editor of Copper Canyon Press, Sam Hamill, captured the range and quantity of Carruth's poetry by noting that it moved "from the epigrammatic to the epic."

Jean Valentine read from letters that Carruth had written to Jane Kenyon in 1994, a year before her death from leukemia, in which he describes the joy of watching a rogue mushroom grow in his house-a pleasure, he noted, surpassing that provided by many an abstract painting.

After reading a selection of his poems, Adrienne Rich spoke of her connection to Carruth: "I don't know how I would have written poetry without a sense of Hayden as a reader."

From the stage radiated an undeniable warmth, and the real celebration was not so much about any particular Hayden Carruth poem, but rather about the intertwining of individual lives as the result of a sense of community nurtured by poetry.

In fact, no poems were read from his newest collection, and when Carruth finally stepped to the podium he thanked his friends for "reading these poems of mine, most of which I didn't remember." Then, realizing he had forgotten his own books and had nothing from which to read, he turned to Galway Kinnell and borrowed a copy from him. The simple act captured perfectly the way these writers had sustained one another for many years.

Of course, in New York, events are still shadowed by the tragedy of September 11, a point acknowledged by Galway Kinnell who said, "For me, in these sad and difficult weeks, this is a bright moment."
-Andy Carter

And finally, read a post here from earlier this year about the poster I had brought to the reading to be signed, and how I did get it signed, but not at the reading.

Tuesday, April 17, 2001

From the Archives: Larry Rivers at Lord & Taylor (April 17, 2001)

This is part of my "From the Archives" series, which consists of texts from e-mails I sent to friends describing my experiences at arts & literary events. I may have taken some small editorial liberties with these texts, and I have included related pictures and hyperlinks, but these are all BBB (Before BillyBlog). Remember, for me these events are enjoyable for two separate reasons: the love of art/poetry, and the mania for collecting. I am who I am. Enjoy!

The following is a recap of an event I attended on my lunch break, where the artist Larry Rivers was celebrating the launch of his relationship with Lord & Taylor Department stores. I went primarily to see Rivers due to his association with the New York School of Poets (Ashbery, Koch, Schuyler, O'Hara) and it sounded like it would be a cool event. And, it was during working hours, so I could run over during a lunch break. No baby sitter required. Rivers died sixteen months after this event (New York Times obituary reprinted here). The poster below, from the event, depicts "Straps and Belts Can Make a Turban, 2001". This is, I believe, the only place on the web you can see this piece, at least based on my humble estimation.

I normally post these way back at the start of BillyBlog, in chronological order, but this one's an amazing little story, and quite funny too. The e-mail was sent to my friends Brian and Hubert. Brian was my mentor who taught me much about book signings and author events.

From: "Bill Cohen"
Subject: A Little Brian in all of Us
Date: Tue, 17 Apr 2001 13:44:10 -0400

So.

Larry Rivers actually designed part of this collection for Lord & Taylor. Pretty funky. I get there at 12:05, 25 minutes early, and there's a jazz trio set up, playing bebop, Larry's in there somewhere as maybe two dozen L&T employees and people who think they're important observe. And a line. A line of maybe 40 people, mostly septuagenarians and older, dabbled with rich New York City housewives.

I get in line, some old couple falls in behind me, the dude cracking awful unfunny jokes forever. No dealers in sight. I have come with a Lord & Taylor bag with pants bought at Lord & Taylor and an actual L&T receipt. Oops! How did that bag of books get in there?

12:30. Showtime. A muffled announcement from the front. Unintelligible, a woman with a L&T badge and a smirky smile weaves back....."In case you couldn't hear the announcement, Mr. Rivers will meet everyone and you can get a poster, but he will NOT be signing autographs."

Nobody around me seems to care. The old guy says he'll sign my poster for me. I think, well he might not be signing autographs, but he sure will sign a few books! A forlorn looking tall man comes back with a Larry Rivers coffee table book the size of Altadena, and speaks to his wife, several feet ahead of me. My eyes bore into the back of his head.

And so it goes. Creep creep. Larry's at a table with maybe thirty people hanging our watching. I formulate plan B (plan A, of course, is that he signs all 6 items I've brought with me). I prepare myself. Big book guy puts the book down in front of him, it looks like Larry is signing, but I can't tell. The universe doesn't come crashing down.

It's my turn a few moments later when some pushy broad (the correct term in this case) cuts in front of me and starts hugging old Larry, who, by the way, don't look so hot, sorta trembly and frail, with hearing aid, etc. He gets up and says something to the band. She's still there. "Well I gotta meet all these people," he says to her dismissively, she backs off. The spotlight falls on me.

I step forward, raising the books in front of me. "Hello Mr. Rivers..."

"I'm not signing those books!" he says, gruffly. But I detect that he is distracted, perhaps confused, and I am, after all Mr. Innocent.

In an uncanny move, that impressed even me, my Brian-honed signing mechanisms kicked in and I did the only thing I could to guarantee survival: I pretended I didn't understand a word he said.

Meanwhile, his body was acting independently of his words. He picked up a sharpie pen (sorry Brian) that he had with him, and I said, "I just have two books (I didn't want to push it)."

[Note: My apology to Brian stems from Brian's mandate that books not be signed with Sharpies. He maintains that the ink bleeds more than other pens, and that it also fades faster than others, as well. This has not stopped authors from using them, however.]

Perhaps the curiosity factor kicked in, perhaps he was merely confused, I sensed tension around me, I was waiting for some cheery-cheeked nymphet to swoop in and cart me off to Security for harassing their guest.

"What's this?" he said, pen in hand.

"This is the David Lehman book about the New York School." [My selfishness revealed! I do

declare this to be one of the coolest books in my collection, as it is inscribed by Kenneth Koch and John Ashbery, and signed by David Lehman, Jane Freilicher, and now, Larry Rivers "Rivers"]

"And this is...." he blank-signed the title page (not inscribed on the half-title as you [Brian] had desired) of Some American History, the June Jordan collaboration you [Brian] mentioned). I would have gone for the O'Haras too, but pushy woman had reinserted herself at the table with the poster for the event begging Larry to sign it for her. He kept saying "No autographs, no! I can't do it!" as the ink dried on my two freshly-signed books. I had to interrupt the poster girl to get a poster, as she was too caught up in the gentle argument unfolding at the table.

I fled, passing the big book guy who leered at me as I smiled sweetly back.

Success? Perhaps. A gentler soul would have faired much worse, but I justified it with the idea that if I'm going to stand in the lobby at Lord and Taylor during my lunch hour and listen to mediocre jazz played over a tinny sound system, I was going to get something out of it other than a poster and a fleeting memory of an aging artist seated behind a folding table.

Thursday, November 16, 2000

From the Archives: Ted Berrigan's Sonnets at St. Mark's

This is part of my "From the Archives" series, which consists of texts from e-mails I sent to friends describing my experiences at arts & literary events. I may have taken some small editorial liberties with these texts, and I have included related pictures and hyperlinks, but these are all BBB (Before BillyBlog). Remember, for me these events are enjoyable for two separate reasons: the love of art/poetry, and the mania for collecting. I am who I am. Enjoy!

In a search of an e-mail in 2012, I discovered this bit from November 16, 2000, embedded in an e-mail from 2007. A search of my journals showed I did not paste this e-mail into a physical book.

Amazing.

One of the best readings I've attended. Viking Penguin has just republished
Ted Berrigan's The Sonnets, so this event (on the late poet's birthday)
commemorated that feat.

At first I was worried. I am not very familiar with Berrigan, so when they
announced that the new edition of eighty-plus sonnets would be read in
their entirety, without an intermission, I worried. This is going to be a
long night, I thought. However, as the who's-who in New York poetry list
passed through the book, it was more and more joyful and entertaining.

In order, they read: Dick Gallup (very good), John Ashbery (intense),
Maureen Owen, Larry Fagin, Anselm Hollo (phenomenal), Sandy Berrigan
(Ted's first wife), Johnny Stanton (looking more like a goombah from Bay Ridge
than a poet, he brought the house down), Lorenzo Thomas, Lewis Warsh,
Alice Notley (Ted's 2nd wife and editor of this version of The Sonnets), Ed
Sanders, Edmund Berrigan (Ted's oldest son), Anne Waldman (amazing), Jim
Carroll (surprisingly excellent), Ron Padgett, and finally, David Berrigan(another son).

One of my favorites to share:

Sonnet LIII

The poem on the page is as massive as
Anne's thighs    belly to hot belly we have laid
Serene beneath feverous folds, flashed cool
in    our    white    heat        hungered        and tasted    and
Gone to the movies        baffling combustions
are everywhere!        like Gertrude Stein at Radcliffe,
Patsy    Padgett    replete    with    teen-age belly!        every-
one's suddenly pregnant and no one is glad!
O wet kisses, the poem upon the page
Can tell you about teeth you've never dreamed
Could bite, nor be such reassurance! Babies are not
Like    Word    Origins and cribbage boards        or dreams
of correspondence!        Fucking is so    very lovely
Who can say no to it later?

****
Anyway, it was fabulous, and I must admit (Brian, thou confidence in me is
well-founded), the reception/signing went exceptionally well. I aimed
myself at St. Marks with one bag o books. Target: 13 poets, 17 books, a
possible 40 signatures combined. I'll break the bad news first, I only
scored 87.5%, getting all but 5 signatures. Ashbery whined (I do not
exaggerate) when I asked him to sign 4 things (can you imagine if I had
brought 10? He would have wept openly. He was one of my first targets, for
a lack of a better word, and I would have pressed him, but he was limping
and whining and if he'd caused a scene, we could have called the whole
thing off. So, he only blank-signed Brian's copy of Self-Portrait......
The other failing was I caught Ed Sanders on the way out and he said I'd have
to settle for 2 of the 4 items I had for him.

Otherwise, much better than I expected. I was rewarded by several
factors:
1) nobody left immediately;
2) Brian's foresight was right, his copies of
the New York Poets anthology, The St. Mark's Poetry anthology, and Big
Sky Issue #9 impressed the pants off a lot of people, and they enjoyed seeing
these books in hardcover and in such good condition; and finally,
3) During the reading, I took notes, writing down physical descriptions--not only
what people looked like, but what they wore (often, a reader has glasses
only while reading, they are later removed). When dealing with obscure
poets at a large ensemble reading, this is key. You can thank my notes
for snagging Larry Fagin, Maureen Owen, and Lewis Warsh.

So, I won't give specifics (i.e. placement, inscriptions, etc) but here's
the final tally:
1 signature each in my Best American Poetry anthologies 88, 90,
93, 94, 96 and 97.
3 signatures in my Exquisite Corpse anthology
8 Individual signatures in poet's books (Ashbery-1, Jim Carroll-1,
Anselm Hollo-4, Ron Padgett-2)
3 signatures, including editor Padgett's, in Brian's NY Poets
anthology
6 signatures in Brian's Big Sky #9
and the coup de grace, but for John Ashbery's whining,
8 signatures in the St. Mark's anthology (including editor Waldman's)

Brian, please remember me at Channukah this year.

Visual highlight of the event: Once the reading concluded, Jim Carroll
running over to where Ashbery was seated, asking him to sign his copy of
The Sonnets.

All for now.
~~~
My friend Brian replied:

by the way, bill, when/if you get a chance I would love to hear a little
more detail on the reading itself. You mentioned that Hollo was
'phenomenal' and others surprisingly good,etc. I'm sure hubert is interested also. How
was Notley? and warsh, thomas & fagin?
brian
~~~

To which I responded:

I don't know what more to say about the reading, I parenthesized comments
about various readers, their presence was felt much more than the others.
Lorenzo Thomas, Warsh and Fagin were okay. Fagin had a lisp. Dick Gallup was
mentioned, as was Padgett in a lot of the sonnets, and that was fun,
especially since I was sitting near them and got to see them reacting.
If I don't comment it's because they were unmemorable, but by no means bad,
they just didn't stick out. Hollo has a deep, resonating voice, and he
enunciated very clearly. Anne Waldman just knows how to throw a poem down
and lets the audience know she enjoys the poems. Ashbery would have been
unremarkable until you remember his stature as a poet, and you appreciate
him more. The 1st Mrs. Berigan was wholly unimpressive, but Notley had some
of the juicier, meatier poems (the one I included was one) and she was
pretty good, too. Not much to say otherwise, other than me chasing down
Hollo because I thought he was leaving, and he assured me he was just going
to the bathroom and he'd be back.

bill

BillyBlog

Monday, October 04, 2004

From the Archives: Geraldine Dodge Poetry Festival, 2004

Friday, December 05, 2003

From the Archives, P.S.A. Chapbook Reading, December 5, 2003

Tuesday, April 29, 2003

From the Archives: Louise Gluck and Mark Strand at the Russian Samovar (April 29, 2003)

Wednesday, October 17, 2001

From the Archives: Hayden Carruth, 80th Birthday Tribute, October 17, 2001

Tuesday, April 17, 2001

From the Archives: Larry Rivers at Lord & Taylor (April 17, 2001)

Thursday, November 16, 2000

From the Archives: Ted Berrigan's Sonnets at St. Mark's

Wednesday, December 02, 1998

From the Archives: Success at Columbia (Meeting Kenneth Koch, December 2, 1998)

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