Jeffery Beam’s rich and varied literary contributions have been recognized here before, but his recent reading at the UNC Botanical garden was a found treasure. He was surrounded by friends and presented not only botanical poems from his latest book, Gospel Earth , but sang, remininsced, and read favorite passages from the poets who have influenced him. Jeffery’s wonderful voice, his energy, and his exuberant love for natural beauty made his reading a meditation and a spiritual sharing.
Gospel Earth is described on the Regulator Bookstore site as a “a collection of monostitches, micropoems, American sentences, small stones, small poem sequences, & minimalist poetry.” It begins with a plentitude of short quotes, almost all gemstones of thought from many different sources. Just as he shared his influences in the reading, his book says up front: here I stand, the earth my image, love my fuel, all the beauty I have been given is part of me. Those are my words and show Jeffery’s effect on one: spiritual and mindful.
Gospel Earth moves from the quotes to extremely short responses to images, many one line or even two or three words. The literary devices are almost invisible behind the strong zen and monastic distillations of pure meaning. The natural images shine for themselves in Jeffery’s deft and delicate frames. The Botanical Garden says Gospel Earth is
“a big book of little poems, [it] has already received acclaim for its transcendent, lush beauty; its minimal sacrament; and its simplicity and physicality. Described by the poet as a work intended to “invigorate the startling propulsion of haiku’s accessible simplicity and minimalism, while creating a more active canvas.”
The book does contain larger pieces, including a prose meditation on birding dedicated to Jonathan Williams (more about him below). One of my favorite pieces is a poem with notes that constitute an essay called “The Green Man’s Man.” The poem finds Jeffery immersed in Nature but always open to the philosophical notes in her song: ” I open Nature’s book/finding:/The more I know/The less I know.” The notes were written specifically for a different Botanical Garden event, and delve into the mythological image of the Green man. Jeffery tells us
The Green Man is not separate from us, he is our source, emphasizing & celebrating the positive creative laws of Nature, the native intelligence that shepherds and protects this world, and the ecological rightness that guides us.
Jeffery continues to enact and support the spirit of Black Mountain College in many ways and I hope to learn more of his scholarship regarding Jonathan Williams. He has presented numerous times about him, and is working on a bibliography. He has also shared manuscripts and links that make it clear he is a leading authority on the man’s life and significance.
Parts of this book also existed in online and pamphlet versions:
Peter Eichenberger died Thanksgiving morning and proved well his enduring unique qualities with the breadth and nature of his mourning. Just one of those qualities was: if you were ready for it, Peter was down with it, and so he made many many friends. They have mourned the loss of his excellent company and all he might have said, but celebrated a life lived full speed and damn the torpedoes, smelling the roses and leaving no stone unturned along the way. Teasing and sarcasm was our way, as with many, and he would hate those cliches, but he was a man worthy hyberbole, since his life consisted of it.
I feel very lucky to have explored Cameron Park’s myriad of alleyways on bike with him this summer, and glad that I shared so many drinks at Sad’s with him, and I hate like the dickens I never got him together with my dad, whose stories of Depression downtown Raleigh and Southern Railroad energized him any time I touched on them. He could ably discurse on innumerable subjects, and he taught me much. He reminded me that Willie York had ditched and piped Pigeon House Branch to build the first shopping center in the Southeast when I was writing about that troubled creek, and he explained to me that the “geodesic” dome I liked so much at the Fairgrounds was actually made of hexagons (instead of pentagrams like Bucky’s). He could write in the Downtowner of dog history and at Metro of Raleigh history and in the Indy of technological history, but I loved to hear him talk of cultural history and the local media history he had lived with all these years. He was a writer, Raleigh’s own Gonzo, but he was rooted in the Earth by what he could do with his hands, which was just about anything if he wanted to.
What he wanted was for the world to be right and what he knew was that the world is very very screwed up. He was right, and when those dark spectres bothered him he would share about the Mayan prophecies or the bombed levees or some other conspiratorial tale that bothered some but seemed clearly to be metaphors: the world is very very screwed up.
Peter also gathered the best kind of vibes and lived in the harmony of many positive energies. Thus was he beloved and is honored by so many in the words that have flowed since his passing. He leaves behind many words of his own, but scattered over the town of Raleigh (and the world wide web) like raucous crows, singing a noisy chant of art, art for life, art against the controlling state and the corporate fascists, art for love. Peter love Peter.
Here are some of the many links for the outpouring online for Peter and links for his own writing:
illustration by Christine Noad
Passejada Menerbesa / Wild Roman Byways
Hearing Miquèl Decòr read his poetry in Occitan, the ancient French language of the troubadours, was an amazing experience. Listening to him introduce each poem in French, than having his translator Jeannette Rogers say all of it in English, made it an amazing language experience. I went overboard at his performance in Chapel Hill and sight read my copy of Wild Roman Byways, his book, as he read his work. I continually glanced over at the French and English (a wonderful chapbook for a linguist) and nearly made myself sick. It was worth it, but when I heard him read at Meredith College I simply listened and it was just as wonderful. What an energy this man has, this retired schoolteacher from the countryside of southern France who has become a voice in his nation for the language of Oc. Wild Roman Byways describes the physical mileu of ancient Roman sites within a day’s journey of the author’s home. As he evokes the grass-bearded stone ruins and the rough bridges and grottos, he finds the imagist and musical gems in these landscapes and molds them into song. Miquèl does sing, and play, in fact has performed literally for the crown heads of Europe, and his presentation of poetry was a true performance.
Jeannette was so brave and effective as she matched up to her author with her English translations. She read them aloud beautifully and her translations read strongly – having no French, I can’t judge the actual translating, but the English poems are lovely, with such a grip on the natural world.
Below is a sample of this three language experience – Oc, French ,English.
Ma votz se vòl tamborn e resson de dalhaires,
E se pèrd dins los aires…
Ma voix se veut tambour et ècho de faucheurs,
et elle se perd, dans les airs…
My voice seems to throb and to echo with the sound
of reapers, then, becomes lost in the wind…
When the reading shifted away from Roman Byways to the lyrical love poetry more typical of Decòr’s work, the tone changed. Here he was even more demonstrative, and the intriguing qualities of the Occitan were more prominent. The poems were very masculine (think imagist Robert Bly) and the linguistic tones were somewhat Germanic, sometimes almost guttural. This was amazing to hear from the mouth of a Frenchman, and was one of many things about the whole experience that enlarged my perspective on the French character. Miguèl is immersed in the southern French countryside, and spoke passionately at the Chapel Hill reading about the history of Occitan in France and his own relationship to Paris and traditional French national culture. His parents forbade him to speak Oc but he learned it anyway from his godfather and has become one of its champions. There are Oc immersion schools in southern France, and Miguèl makes media appearances and participates on a national level with the preservation of the language.
Kudos to Jeannette for bringing this fascinating man to Raleigh and facilitating his poetry presentations – as well as translating and reading the poems! We will be hearing more of Jeannette as she continues her literary journey through the France of the troubadours.
To order a copy of Miguèl’s book, contact her:
In October, the Triangle will be entertained by a true modern-day troubadour. Miquèl Decòr, a prolific and original poet who carries on the ancient literary tradition of writing and performing in the Occitan (Oc) language, will be sharing his works at poetry readings in Raleigh, Chapel Hill and Pittsboro.
The poet and his translator, Raleigh resident Jeannette Rogers, will read in Occitan and English from two of his books which Rogers translated, “Wild Roman Byways” and “Heirs of the Moon.” These poetry readings, a collaboration between Meredith College and the Center for European Studies at The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, are free and open to the public:
- Tuesday, Oct. 5 at 7 p.m., Global Fedex Center, UNC-Chapel Hill, Chapel Hill, N.C.
- Thursday, Oct. 7 at 7 p.m., The Joyful Jewel, Pittsboro, N.C.
- Thursday, Oct. 14 at 8 p.m., Carswell Concert Hall, Meredith College, Raleigh, N.C.
Decòr is a native and resident of the Languedoc region of France where the troubadours lived nearly a thousand years ago. From the 11th through the 13th centuries, 500 troubadours wrote and performed in Occitan throughout Europe. During that time they invented many forms of poetry, as well as biography and literary criticism, while they shifted the focus of literature in Western Europe from war to love. Modern Oc poets provide the connection to the significant literary heritage of the troubadours.
The author of 10 books, including poetry, drama and history, Decòr has been involved in many French cultural events and appeared on French television and radio. This is the poet’s first visit to the United States.
The information above is from Jeannette Rogers, who translates Decòr’s work and arranged for his visit to the U.S. Jeannette is a dear old friend who is fluent in French and creating a wonderful body of work as she develops historical novels set in medieval southern France and translates French and Occitan poetry.
Occitan is a Latin-sounding ancient version of the French tongue, one of the many endangered languages around the world. Miquèl Decòr and my friend Jeannette, who is learning Occitan as she translates it and works with Miquèl on trilingual presentations of poetry, are important figuress in an emerging renewal of of the language in French culture. As UNC’s press release states:
He was bathed in the culture of Occitan from his birth under the spell of his godfather, Uncle Jean, an actor. When he left home to study in Béziers, distance and longing caused him to write poetry in Occitan, his mother tongue.
Decor press release (loads pdf)
“to make open the eyes” Josef Albers All work of Ray Johnson on this site is used by permission of The Ray Johnson Estate
Ray Johnson was probably the most enigmatic and least appreciated artist of his importance in the 20th century. He was a man of many many layers, not so much depth, on first impression, just layers, fairly random factors that underlie and overlay his work. The show just ended at The Black Mountain College Museum and Art Center had many layers itself, over multiple valuable events, and provided a greatly needed showcase and explication for this “seminal figure of Pop Art” whose collages “influenced a generation of contemporary artists.”
The show and especially its catalogue were already reviewed here, but several subsequent events have enriched the impact of the show. Dr. Francis F. L. Beatty (quoted and seen above), a curator who works with the Ray Johnson Estate, gave a lecture at the BMCM+AC on May 21, using parallel slides to show that Ray displays elements in his collages that link him to the major artistic trends of the day. His wit, humor and intense communications of all kinds were highly stimulating but hard to classify, but his collages and the palette he created out of found and encountered material can be seen as fully in the tradition of Klee’ as well as Albers, while partaking of the humor of Dada. “I don’t make pop art. I make chop art.” Ray’s statement refers to his use of old work in new, and Dr. Beatty skillfully elucidated the way in which Ray’s “chop art” (often meticulous geometric constructions) came right out of his Black Mountain experience. She makes a point that reverberated through this show: the liberation of American education happening at Black Mountain served as well to “liberate Ray Johnson.” He found himself, and he found the principle that best illuminates the breadth of his work for me: images standing in for words, words become imagery.
Yet Ray remains enigmatic. Dr. Beatty spent much time on the 55 Moticos – huge intricate collages – which Ray made and destroyed, calling them “some of the earliest and most significant examples of Pop Art.” She recounted many personal interactions with Ray, such as the time he approached her and finally wanted to do a gallery display – of “Nothings.” Beyond his inscrutability, his avoidance of the commercial process, Dr. Beatty makes a simple but important point – the small scale of Ray’s visual work limited his gallery prospects and indirectly his artistic stature.
The scale of Ray’s imagination and willingness to live his life for art was unbounded, of course. The final night of the show, orchestrated by curator Sebastian Matthews, was a truly wild and wonderful event that did much to reflect Ray’s spirit. Music, poetry, and spoken word all filled the space.
“We have to seize the things we need to create.” These words were spoken in Picasso’s voice by Keith Flynt, one of the closing night performers (seen below).
Earl Bragg, seen above, offered a nine-eleven poem that featured number names – worthy of Ray’s glyphs and puns. His political themes and passionate phrases made for an excellent reading.
Local dramatists staged a reading of a collaged piece incorporating Ray’s play inside a play about Ray discussing a play with pink James Dean.
The final word has to go to Sebastian Matthews, who did such a magnificent job not only of putting on the show but of staying in touch with Ray’s spirit the whole time. He evoked and nurtured the image of Ray as filled with humor, energy – and a total lack of any sense of propriety. About the “chop art” and “lost art” which was so prominent in the show, he says: “Ray loved to make things up, kill them off, and resurrect them.”
The Ray show is dead, long live the Ray show.