Fowl Feathered Review is published quarterly by Fowl Pox Press. Please send all comments, questions, and submissions to: fowlpox@mail.com Editor: Virgil Kay ISSN: ISSN 1929-7238 Follow us online: http://fowlpox.tk/ Coordinates: 40°48′8″N 73°53′46″W
Cover: Girl 6, Brianna Lea Pruett http://briannaleapruettart.com/
The Acme Miniature Circus is an authentic Victorian style flea circus. ARTWORK CREDIT: JAIME MURPHY
Two Poems by Marc Carver TERMINATE THIS I have about thirteen hours to be an artist a poet a writer a fool and then I can go back to bed happy maybe job done. So out I go and find a poem write it send it off but I am still hungry and besides thirteen hours before I can go back to bed. I can go out again but these people are not always so interesting I can provoke them and get them to do something at a push but it is not always so easy So I drag myself out the results I will share with you I will be back. A BRITISH SUMMER The people in this country look so much happier when the sun comes out. It makes you wonder why they stay here at all.
Garth von Buchholz
Victoria Ballerina Project: Images by Garth von Buchholz, VB PhotoImagery By order of appearance: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.
Andrea Bayne Brichelle Brucker Capri Aspe Bethany Le Corre and Ian Szkolak Bethany Le Corre and Ian Szkolak Stacy Sanderson
Switzerland (Nations of the modern world) by Christopher Hughes Series: Nations of the modern world Hardcover: 303 pages Publisher: Praeger (1975) Language: English ISBN-10: 0275333205 ISBN-13: 978-0275333201
F
ound: In a pile of telephone books, on a table next to a window, which was covered with a tangle
of broken Christmas lights, several instructions for loading laundry, and two LED signs informing people that videos were available and that the establishment--Aladdin Video & Variety, on 390 Portland St., Dartmouth, Ns, B2Y 1K8, next to Don Schelew Dry Cleaners (distance between the two: 132 ft) was open. The dust jacket was long gone, but the book was in remarkable shape. Of its author it has been said: “Christopher Hughes was, from the 1950s to the 1980s, the dominant figure in British Swiss Studies.” —University of Kent website. Far from dry academia, one hears this formidable expert discuss the banking system and watch production from their start in a none-too-large-country and how both became the stuff of legend. Not bad stuff to read while listening to the monotonous drone of clothes dryers and strains of Cairo’s pop melodies.
The Lost Music of Fernando Sor John Doan (Artist), Fernando Sor (Composer) Format: Audio CD
Guest Composer Vincent Ho suggests the following music to take the chill off of winter.
John Psathas: View From Olympus Stravinksy: Firebird OR Rite of Spring Gershwin: Cuban Overture
COWELL: Homage to Iran / Piano Pieces / Set of Five / Six Casual Developments / Two Songs Henry Cowell was one of the most remarkable figures in American music. A startlingly innovative composer, an inimitable piano virtuoso who outraged or delighted his audiences, a brilliant writer, teacher, lecturer and organizer, Cowell almost singlehandedly laid the foundations for American compositional life. This second Continuum Portrait of Cowell’s music (Volume 1 is available on Naxos 8.559192) includes further examples of his most experimental piano pieces, calling for strumming and plucking the strings, as well as using forearms to produce tone clusters. Other compositions fuse Asian and Western idioms in striking new blends. Yet, however advanced his ideas, or multifaceted his output, Cowell’s music remains immediately accessible.
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http://w ww.neww orldrecor ds.org/up loads/file R69l1.pdf
Photo courtesy The David and Sylvia Teitelbaum Fund, Inc.
Abbridged Biography of Henry Cowell. For the full biography, we encourage you to please read the full biography posted by Stacey Barelos, as found here: http://www.cowellpiano.com/Bio.html
H
enry Cowell was born on March 11, 1897 in Menlo Park, California, near Palo Alto. His
father, Harry Cowell, a native of Ireland, was in his thirties at the time and his mother, Clarissa Dixon, was already in her mid-forties at Cowell's birth. Both aspiring writers, Harry and Clarissa lived bohemian lifestyles, splitting their time between San Francisco and a cottage Harry built in Menlo Park, but by the time Cowell was five years old they had separated. For a number of reasons, Cowell had very little formal education. While living in Iowa, he briefly attended third grade where his teacher evaluated him "below his grade in drawing and penmanship, at the fifth grade level in math, the sixth in geography, and at a fully adult level in reading." He was very well read, thanks in no small part to his mother's intermittent home schooling. In 1910, he caught the attention of Louis Terman, Professor of Education and Psychology at Stanford. One of the first developers of the modern IQ test, Terman was conducting a study on childhood prodigies and enlisted Cowell as a test subject. "No. 40. Henry. Illustrating the relative independence of IQ and schooling. Scientific ability overshadowed by musical genius. Extreme poverty." Over several years, Terman tested Cowell and measured his vocabulary at an amazing 15,500 words by age fourteen. Although he was disappointed by Cowell's IQ of 132, Terman stated that "the limit of the scale was inadequate to measure his ability. There is little doubt that in actual intelligence he was well within the range of our gifted group." Cowell saved what money he could and at the age of fifteen bought a piano for $60. Although Cowell had been composing since the age of nine or ten, the piano was a tremendous aid to his compositional output and by 1914, he had composed over 100 pieces. Also in 1914, at the age of 17, Cowell began studies at Berkeley with renowned musicologist Charles Seeger. In Seeger's words, they embarked on "concurrent but entirely separate pursuit[s] of free composition and academic disciplines." Seeger
obtained special status for Cowell at Stanford and in addition to their meetings, Cowell studied harmony with E.G. Strickland and counterpoint with Wallace Sabin. Seeger recommended that Cowell try formal training at the Institute of Musical Art (later the Juilliard School) in New York City. Cowell lasted less than six months (from October 1916 to January 1917). He found the academic atmosphere stifling, but what did pique his interest was the work of Russian pianist and composer Leo Ornstein. Ornstein was known in New York as a wild, futurist composer. With titles like Danse Sauvage and Suicide in an Airplane, his works left lasting impressions on the audience. One reporter commented, "I never thought I should live to hear Arnold Schoenberg sound tame; yet tame he sounds-almost timid and halting--after Ornstein who is, most emphatically the only true-blue, genuine, Futurist composer alive." In early 1917, Cowell met with Ornstein and upon studying Cowell's scores Ornstein said, "These are the most interesting compositions I have seen by any living American." In February of 1917, instead of waiting to be drafted, Cowell enlisted in the army hoping to avoid combat. He served a year in the ambulance training facility at Camp Crane, PA, and, in fact, never saw combat and even served as assistant band director. In October of 1918, Cowell was transferred to Fort Ontario in Oswego, New York. Although he contracted chicken pox in New York (never having it as a child), he luckily escaped an outbreak of influenza at Camp Crane that killed thirteen men between September 1918 and 1920, part of a Spanish flu epidemic that killed twenty to fifty million people worldwide. While studying with Seeger, Cowell showed his teacher some of his compositions using clusters. In 1916, Seeger urged Cowell to write a formal explanation of his tone clusters. By 1919, Cowell completed the first draft of his book New Musical Resources (although it remained unpublished until 1930) with the help of Samuel S. Seward, Jr., a friend from California and later a professor of English at Stanford University, who coincidentally was stationed at Camp Crane at the same time as Cowell. In the book, Cowell discusses the overtone series including "the influence [it] has exerted on music throughout its history, how many musical materials of all ages are related to it, and how, by various means of applying its principles in many different manners, a large palette of musical materials can be assembled." In particular, Cowell extends the musical possibilities of the overtone series beyond pitch to rhythm as well. (For more information on New Musical Resources seeRhythmicana.) The book had a direct influence on many composers like John Cage, who hand-copied the book and then hitchhiked across the country in order to study with Cowell. Conlon Nancarrow was also greatly influenced by the book. Living in Mexico City since 1940, he had trouble finding performers there that were able to play the complex rhythms in his works. He found an answer to his problem in New Musical Resources. "Some of the rhythms developed through the present acoustical investigation could not be played by any living performer; but these...could easily be cut on a player-
piano roll." In reading the book today, we also see the future innovations of many twentieth century composers. Elliot Carter’s use of metric modulation is suggested in Cowell’s section on tempo. Cowell states, “Applying now the principles of relating time to musical tone, we see at once that if a given tempo, say M. M. 24 (metronome marking), is taken as a base, a tempo of M. M. 48 represents the octave, and M. M. 96 the octave next higher. The interval of a fifth is represented in tempo by the ratio M. M. 72, against the octave 48; the interval of a third by 120 against 96, etc…” During Cowell's time at Halcyon he convinced members that they should perform his music saying, “You ought not to be singing those hymns. They have nothing to do with the oneness of man and the universe. You ought to sing my music.” After playing some of his “elbow music” for them, they agreed. Throughout his early career, Cowell also wrote several works with Irish themes, many of which were written for and performed at Halcyon. Cowell made a number of trips to Europe in the twenties and thirties, often leaving significant impressions on his audiences. A review by the London Times, reported that "...that this was the world's loudest piano music and [Cowell] was the world's loudest pianist." In 1923, during his first trip to Europe, Schoenberg invited Cowell to speak in his classes in Berlin, and Béla Bartók asked Cowell's permission to use his tone clusters. In 1931, Cowell traveled back to Berlin on a Guggenheim Fellowship and studied world music with Eric von Hornbostel. Cowell also visited the Soviet Union in 1929, causing quite a stir. During a concert given at the Moscow Conservatory, the audience refused to let Cowell play the second piece on the program until he repeated the first several times. The Russian students, certain they would never hear this music again, insisted on hearing it until they could understand it. In this manner, his hour long concert actually continued for over four hours. In 1925, Cowell founded the New Music Society. For the first two years, the society consisted of periodic concerts first in the Los Angeles area and later in the San Francisco area. In 1927, Cowell also began the New Music Quarterly, a subscription periodical that published works by composers seen as unprofitable by mainstream publishers. Largely subsidized by Charles Ives, the Quarterly printed works by Ives, Carl Ruggles, Dane Rudhyar, Ruth Crawford, George Antheil, and later Lou Harrison, John Cage, Elliot Carter and many others. In the thirties, Cowell expanded New Music to include recordings. The first release, in 1934, included works by Adolph Weiss and Ruth Crawford and recordings continued to be released, sometimes three or four a year, until 1949. Most of the activities of the society, particularly in the beginning, were run by Cowell. Cowell's compositional output from 1940 until his death in 1965 encompassed a wide variety of styles and musics, but never again embodied the experimental tendencies of his
early career. In the words of Steven Johnson, “[Cowell] clearly embraced the experimental tradition with far less fervor than in earlier years...Cowell’s music of this time was more likely to feature simple forms, diatonic materials, conventional melodic and accompanimental textures, and exceedingly regular phrase syntax.” 41 Cowell had an active career from the end of World War II to his death in 1965. He wrote most of his twenty symphonies, including sketches for a twenty-first, all of the nineteen Hymn and Fuguing Tunes and a number of chamber works such as eastern influenced compositions like Ongaku and Homage to Iran. He taught at a variety of schools, mostly on the east coast. For the year of 1951-2 alone, he was involved with eighteen classes at the New School, Peabody and Columbia. Throughout his career he also taught at Eastman, Mills College and Stanford, among others. In 1955, with his wife Sidney, Cowell published the first biography of Charles Ives, a labor of love for the man he always considered, "the same as a father." In 1956, with money from the Rockefeller Foundation, Henry and Sidney traveled to Iran, India and Japan. In 1961, President Kennedy chose Cowell to represent the U.S. at conferences in Tehran and Tokyo. Perhaps most telling of Cowell’s character are the hundreds of works he wrote throughout his career dedicated to friends and relatives. He remains one of the few composers who was selfless in so many endeavors, not publishing a single work of his own in New Music Quarterly. He practically saved Charles Ives from obscurity and provided an audience for modern American composers with his New Music Society and other activities. Cowell influenced countless composers and performers through his works, his teaching, his writings and his performing, and his legacy lives on not only in his own work, but in the work of those he inspired. http://amzn.to/1leCrMf
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Photo: Q.A. Wagstaff
Reflections on Korndorf Virgil Kay to Jocelyn Morlock, Composer in residence of Music on Main: Who are your musical greats? Who challenges you? Morlock: Nikolai Korndorf! (And a million others...)ď€
Virgil to Gordon Gerrard, Assistant Conductor of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra and to Vincent Ho, Conductor: What comes to mind when you hear the name Nikolai Korndorf? Gordon Gerrard : Amoroso and The Smile of Maud Lewis. Two great pieces we played here @VSOrchestra this season.
Vincent Ho: The embracement of humanity, love, and life.
We now present, in its entirety, the chapbook manuscript
entitled Reinscription of the Anesthesia of Forgetting, by Nazariy Radomi Sokolov
Eel, Argument, and Result. We numbly foxtrot in the Great Australian Bight So hard to breathe without a snorkel This invites questions about Vang Vieng, Laos And a longing to sneeze into unraveling Disheveled pile of blue rayon midwinter sweater Deconstruction formerly of Thailand Bologna clouds of puce breathes molten lava A nun is screeching from a Nam Song paddle: “Fly by way of dishwasher if I am on fire� In this busy maelstrom of up and down A paraprofessional homeless person Crawls over you
Where All Watts; collaborating in verbatim... Or set in motion by disease prevention methods and second hand roller coasters from Disney Parks. Where all signs point to a destination that involves hazmat suits. Where all roads do-not lead ahead; in fact they lead slightly to the left. Grandma is waiting there with her turtle neck holding an abundance of bananas. Morgan Freeman narrates the moment. Rose petals fall to the floor, and into your mouth. You choke until you recognize your true calling... Hot dog vendor!
Pentaptych / Type 'n' Patch 1. Boccherini, Luigi, 1743-1805. [Quintets, piano, strings, G.418, C major.] Quintet no. 6Âź, opus 57 (unfinished) for two violins, viola, lobster and piano.
Azazel the goat traveled on a bipolar high from his home in
Bellows Falls, Vermont to Springhill, Nova Scotia. After days of stir-crazy frustration he fixated on a picture he had taken of nearby Partridge Island. It is noted for its high cliffs, wonderful fossils, and songbirds, including its namesake, the partridge. The photo showed this so-called island--in actual fact a peninsula—from the east side, with the sandbar isthmus connecting to the mainland. 2. Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 1756-1791. [Quintets, piano, oboe, clarinet, ham, bassoon, K. 452, G-flat major.] Quintet in Gflat majo, K.437, for piano, oboe, clarinet, corn and buffoon / Mozart
Azazel determined he would set up camp on the left side of the island. He believed that camping there would restore his mental health. Arriving there, he rummaged through his truck and produced a pup tent, pots and pans, rice, a fishing pole, and a woman’s pink overnight case, which held a live lobster. Azazel brought half of these items to the base of the island where he intended to start climbing. It should be mentioned that there is a path that can be hiked and under normal circumstances he would have done so, had his mental health been optimum. 3. Herzogenberg, Heinrich, Freiherr von, 1843-1900.
[Quintet, piano, woodwinds, horse, op. 49, Eb major.] Quintet, op. 43, for oboe, clarinet, horse, bassoon and Casio.
As Azazel started the ascent the rocks began to crumble and fall. At 20 feet he could no longer climb. He dropped his equipment to the rocks below. He allowed himself to let go of the rope and fall backwards on the rocks below. The 88th Psalm came to mind—or bits of versus did. Azazel received nothing more than a few bruises—and a concussion. Once Azazel regained consciousness, he grabbed his gear and resumed his climb, succeeding in climbing to the top, bipolar disorder still in full gear. He reached the area close to where he wanted to camp but the descent was at a 20° angle. Azazel tied a rope to a tree and slid down the slope. He repeated this process two more times while bringing his gear. Once settled in, Azazel started a fire on the abundant rocks. It was a good camp. Because it was wet outside, it took quite a bit of work to get a spark. Azazel decided to cook the rice with sea water, which takes some time to boil. After eating a small portion—which was curiously salty and devoid of butter--Azazel placed the lobster in the pot so he could enjoy some of the meal. He did not respond but Azazel noticed that the lobster’s claws no longer clicked and he had turned a vibrant red from head to toe. Neither had much to say for much of the evening. Azazel returned the lobster to his overnight bag, and, feeling his high temperature, left him with an aspirin. It was a good camp. 4. Martin, Frank, 1890-1974. [Quintet, piano, strings.] Quintette : pour piano, deux violons, auto et violoncelle
Azazel excused himself and went into the tent for the night. All of a sudden every sound in the forest ceased. Azazel could no longer hear the ocean. He tried to sleep and saw a pentaptych with his mind’s eye. The pentaptych seemed to come through the perspective of five Transnistrian gas station attendants walking toward him from the beach, waving gasoline cans and remarking that “the more comfort the less courage there is.� This was not a welcome television program and he could not find any means to shut it off. Azazel decided to get off the island as fast as he could. He gathered everything in a hurry. The aforementioned angle made it impossible for him to climb up so he descended from there until he reached water. The Fundy tides were coming in. Azazel turned on his recently purchased flashlight with new batteries and five seconds later the bulb popped and all was dark. He frantically searched his bag and found his diving light. This gave him a 2" window of light. Imagine climbing down a rocky cliff, slipping and sliding on seaweed in near-total darkness, then reaching water that licks you and engulfs you, all with a window of 2". It took Azazel an hour to make it back to his truck at the edge of the water. Azazel drove frantically to Cochran beach in Port Greville, a distance of about 30 min. He got out of his truck and dropped down to the beach on his knees. Azazel closed his eyes and found that the pentaptych had departed from him. Azazel fell into a deep sleep and didn't wake until the next morning. He was covered with dew and mosquito bites. He found that if he closed his eyes, a black and white photograph of the island surrounded with darkness was etched into his brain. Azazel got up and returned to Springhill, Nova Scotia.
5. Shostakovich, Dmitrii Dmitrievich, 1906-1975. [Quintet, piano, banjos, op. 59.] Kvintet, dlia dvukh skripok, al'ta, violoncheli i fortepiano. Quintet for two banjos, angry midwife, vodka bottle, and piano, op. 57 [G minor].
After a week’s passing Azazel’s wife decided to come from Vermont to try to help him return to the island to pick up the rest of his gear. She explained to Azazel that a smell of rancid sea food was coming from the lobster. He cautioned her to speak quietly as she might hurt the lobster’s feelings. He had been quite uncommunicative of late and doubtless depressed. They decided to place the lobster in the water so it could resume its natural existence. Azazel and his wife returned to his tent. They packed up much of his things but could not find his bottles of anti-psychotics— missing since his rapid departure. They also decided the tent was too bulky and left it in place. They returned to Springhill and then home to Vermont. Some months had gone by when Azazel received a call from the RCMP in Canada. A fisherman had discovered his tent and antipsychotics... Hence a frantic search for Azazel ensued. The officer was relieved to hear that Azazel was okay. Azazel suggested they contact Dalhousie University’s oceanography department and try to track down the lobster. He said it would be very easy to do as he was a bright red and very fond of rice.
AnnaLynne Williams (aka Lotte Kestner)
Are you in a highrise office over the streets of LA with six advisors wearing Ray-bans and Italian suits? A boat in Iceland with an iPod doing the navigating? Where does life take you? Just sitting in my top floor apartment in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of Seattle in my pajamas. Although I do remember doing the LA highrise thing a decade ago. And I was on a boat last week.
Your songs are like paintings--they capture your attention the first time and then you revisit them for clues. They aren't hooks on loops. How do you keep this clarity and storytelling intact? Thanks! I imagine my songs are a bit slow to capture some people's attention on first listen.. I used to wonder if all of my songs were in time with my heartbeat. As for my songs, most of them are personal, or about my favorite piece of something that has moved me. I usually only finish the song if it's coming to me all in a rush, and then I rarely edit. Which is probably why the final product can be obtuse but
filled with clues. I write it in my language and then I don't edit it to be understood. I hope at least certain images or phrases are universal, because I do want to connect with the people listening to the music.
Tell me about your name change to Lotte Kestner. Was it a personal motivation--a need for change, a new chapter in your life? Does it make things difficult at tax time?
Bob Dylan said he used to receive his songs. Must be a mail order thing. How does it work for you?
Ha, don't get me started on tax time. I have a love/hate relationship with doing my taxes. Being self- employed with a handful of bands means so much painstaking work but I'm still grateful every time that it's music that I do for a living so I kind of love sorting through that stuff. As for the name change, I didn't really know I was going to release a bunch of Lotte Kestner albums. I had a Myspace page called "AnnaLynne 2" for a while, started posting some solo songs because Trespassers William was going through a slow spell. People started listening and responding and sending me music to collaborate on, and it was time for a proper name so I borrowed mine from Goethe's muse, Charlotte Buff-Kestner. It would've felt odd to use my own name all of a sudden. I don't imagine I ever will until I write a novel.
Yeah, absolutely. The best songs usually just arrive like an epiphany. There are five words in my head and then all of a sudden I have a couple of verses‌ and they just lead me to the chorus. If that doesn't happen, I'll usually set the song aside for a long time. That was the case with the song Different Stars, actually. I wrote the first half and then a year or so later I changed the key and slowed it down and wrote the last half. But yeah. Usually it's like what Bob Dylan said. A one hour magic writing session.
Tell me about your guitars. I had six, but when I hurt my wrist, I sold half of them. Now I have one reliable rosewood Martin that I do most of my writing and recording with, and an old little tenor guitar when I want to play in a different key, and a nylon string from the year I was born. I have more toys and keyboards these days, because they're easier for me to play.
Do you name your guitars? No I don't tend to name things. Naming songs is hard enough.
Who inspires you? I used to listen to music incessantly. Elliott Smith, Kate Bush, Radiohead, Kings of Convenience, Cocteau Twins and all the great 4AD bands‌. They inspired me with my early writing. These days, people who make very simple, heartfelt music inspire me the most, though I'm likely to reach for a National album to give my mood a boost. I read much more than I listen to albums
in this particular phase of my life. I've been reading every book by W Somerset Maugham, Ian McEwan, and Jim Krusoe over the past few years. Of course the people in my life are what really inspire my words directly.
Are you working on new material? Always. My band Ormonde has an album coming out this year, and I'm wading through the possible songs for the next Lotte Kestner album right now. I've been recording my albums at home for a while now so I am pretty much always working on something.
To go from working with Matt Brown in Trespassers William to solo work was doubtless a big transition. Was it hard at first? Well I suppose the transition was smoothed by the fact that Matt mixed my first solo record in the studio and members of Trespassers William have made cameos on a couple of songs (Lula Boat, Bright To Be True, etc.) When Matt and I first started making albums together, I had no part in the recording or mixing and just showed up and wrote and sang, but with each album I became more hands-on. By the time we made Having, each of us recorded our own parts. So it didn't feel like too big of a leap to work alone. And there was a part of me that had been wanting to share my songs without any adornment. Seemed more brave. It suits me to record and mix alone at home, since I write alone at home. But I still don't really like playing live on my own, I always want someone to sing with or to play something pretty.
Do you find working solo to be liberating? Does it change the song content?
Yes and yes. I definitely found myself being more plain-spoken and honest with the solo songs. When you're writing for a band, you have to remember that adult men are going to be crafting and performing the song with you, and I'd feel responsible to not be too feminine or too intimate. My writing voice on the Lotte Kestner albums is more like me writing love letters without any editing.
Sorry for the guitar questions. Are you able to play at all now? Well actually that's a bit complicated. I had to give it up for 6 months back in 2011 when I ruptured a tendon. After that I was able to play again so long as I didn't go longer than 15 minutes or so. Just enough to play a few songs at a show, or record a take or two. That's how it's been for a while, keeping it minimal and relying on the help of others. Until a few months ago when the injury was agitated again. Right now I actually haven't touched a guitar for two months. Thank goodness for Ormonde, I don't play guitar in that band.
The Sorrows of Young Werther--Which came first, the inspiration from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, or the need for a new name? I read the book first. A few years later I ran across the name again and realized how much I liked the sound of it.
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World Association for Ruined Piano Studies Formed in 1991 by Stephen Scott (of Bowed Piano celebrity, and professor of music at Colorado Collage) and Ross Bolleter. The organisation has world-wide membership, has never held an AGM, and tends to move into action only from whim or from a rush of blood. WARPS has devoted energy to giving old pianos a good home, which can certainly mean adequate sunshine and rain, as in....... WARPS PIANO PATHOLOGY Inactive, neglected, abandoned, dismembered, decomposed .......
weathered,
decaying,
ruined,
devastated,
A piano is said to be ruined (rather than neglected or devastated) when it has been abandoned to all weathers, say on a sheep station or tennis court, with the result that few or none of its notes sound like that of an even-tempered uptight piano. A Ruined Piano has its frame and bodywork more or less intact (even though the soundboard is cracked wide open, with the blue sky shining through) so that it can be played in the ordinary way. By contrast a Devastated Piano is usually played in a crouched or lying position. http://warpsmusic.com/ Photo opposite page: Š 2014 Minling Zhao. www.minlingzhao.com
Three Poems by Changming Yuan
South China Cicada no human ear has ever heard of you cloistering yourself deep in the soil silently sucking all sounds from roots for more than thirteen years in a row until high up on a summer painted twig you slough off your earthly self pouring all your being in a single song before the sun sets for the yellow leaf
Bow and Arrow For a whole decade of Delays and detours You have failed after all To find the golden bow Yet you still hold this arrow Close to your heart Ready to draw it As straight as a day dream At the setting summer sun
Fossil Fish not every fish can transform into a fossil not every fossil can be found fulfilled yet unfortunately favored by the formidable fate i am a fossil that used to be a fish
to avoid being drowned in my own blue dreams i swam, swum, and swimming with the weeping wind against the sweeping waves until at a hot moment of spot i became fossilized
my skeleton is my story simple
The Day My Grandfather Groucho and I Saved ‘You Bet Your Life’ Andy Marx
“He’s right,” Jack Nicholson chimed in. “Groucho, that stuff is classic. Listen to your grandson. Let them send the reels to you.”
I hate to admit it, but I sometimes find it hard to imagine life without Netflix. Whether it’s watching all six seasons of “Lost” in a week or enjoying some cool documentary I otherwise never would’ve heard of, Netfix has, for better or worse, definitely become a part of my life. So, you can imagine my delight when I happened to discover Netflix had added the legendary ‘50s TV show, “You Bet Your Life” to its streaming service. The reason for my delight? The host of “You Bet Your Life” was none other than my grandfather, the one and only Groucho Marx.
It didn’t take long for me to devour all the episodes available on Netflix, and as I watched Groucho delivering his rapid-fire quips at the befuddled contestants, I couldn’t help thinking how amazing it was that I was sitting in the comfort of my den watching a TV show that made its debut in 1950, starring my grandfather.
But I also couldn’t stop thinking about how close every one of those classic episodes of “You Bet Your Life” came to being destroyed many years ago and how my grandfather and I managed to stop that from happening.
The year was 1973 and I was a 21-year-old right out of UCLA film school. Though most of my days were spent looking for a job, I did manage to squeeze in lunch with my 83year-old grandfather at least once a week.
Lunches at my grandfather’s house in Beverly Hills in those days were usually full of surprises, especially since you never knew who might be there.
No longer out of the limelight, my grandfather was enjoying his status as a cultural icon now that such classic Marx Brothers films as “Duck Soup” and “A Night at the Opera” had been discovered by a whole new generation eager for something to go with the freewheeling attitudes and politics of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. Groucho and his brothers fit the bill perfectly and my grandfather was more than happy to oblige his new-found fans, many of them Hollywood celebrities. Among my favorite celebrity sightings at my grandfather’s house in those days were Alice Cooper and Rolling Stones guitarist Ronnie Wood.
This particular day, my grandfather asked me to be ready to accompany him on the piano, since he planned to sing for the invited guests: Jack Nicholson, Elliott Gould and the great French mime, Marcel Marceau. As I said, you never knew who would arrive for lunch with Groucho.
And I was always happy to accompany my grandfather on the piano, as he made his way through such songs, as “Lydia, the Tattooed Lady” and “Father’s Day.” Fortunately, I got some musical ability from my mother’s side of my family – my other grandfather was the legendary songwriter, Gus Kahn, who wrote such evergreens as “It Had to Be You,” “Makin’ Whoopee” and “Dream a Little Dream.”
I was the last to arrive that day and as I entered the dining room, Nicholson, Gould and Marceau were already seated.
As I took my seat next to Nicholson, he immediately raised his wine glass and offered a toast to my grandfather. As everyone lifted their glasses, Marcel Marceau turned to my grandfather and asked, “Groucho, if you don’t mind, is it okay if I mime the wine?
My grandfather nodded in approval and sure enough, Marceau, probably the greatest mime since Charlie Chaplin, proceeded to open a non-existent bottle of wine with a nonexistent corkscrew, then pour the non-existent wine into a non-existent glass. Next, he lifted the glass to toast and then took an imaginary sip. I must admit, it was one of the greatest things I had ever seen, proving once more that lunch at my grandfather’s was always full of surprises.
As Nicholson began telling everyone about his latest movie, “The Last Detail,” which would be released in a few months, the phone rang and my grandfather, never one to have his lunch or a good story interrupted, asked me to answer it.
I walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone.
“Is Mr. Marx in?” the voice at the other end said.
“Who’s calling?” I asked.
“I work at the NBC storage warehouse in Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey,” the man said. “We’ve got several boxes of 16mm reels of film from ‘You Bet Your Life’ and we were wondering if Mr. Marx wants any of it. If not, we’re going to destroy all of it tomorrow.”
“Destroy it?” I asked incredulously. “Why would you do that?”
“We’re trying to clear space for the newer shows. There’s a lot of stuff from the ‘50s and ‘60s that we’re getting rid of. If Mr. Marx would like it, we’ll be happy to send all of the reels to him.”
I told the man to hang on and ran back into the dining room.
“Grandpa Groucho, there’s a man calling from the NBC warehouse in New Jersey, who says they’ve got several boxes of reels of ‘You Bet Your Life’ they’re going to destroy unless you want them.”
“Tell him to burn them for all I care,” my grandfather said, eliciting laughs from his guests. These days it was hard to tell if he was just doing his grouchy act for his invited audience or truly didn’t care.
“Grandpa, you don’t really want them doing the same thing they did to Oscar Levant’s show,” I said, referring to what had happened to all the copies of his good friend, Oscar Levant’s classic show from the ‘50s, “Information, Please,” when all of the kinescopes that existed were destroyed.
“He’s right,” Nicholson chimed in. “Groucho, that stuff is classic. Listen to your grandson. Let them send the reels to you.”
“Alright,” my grandfather said. “Maybe it’ll be fun to watch them again.”
Excited, I ran back and told the man to send the boxes to my grandfather’s house. And though my grandfather didn’t seem terribly excited about the prospect of getting a few boxes of 16mm prints, I couldn’t wait. My grandfather had a small screening room in his house with a 16mm projector and I figured I’d spend an afternoon watching the episodes that were now on their way to Beverly Hills.
As it turned out, it would take more than an afternoon to watch the episodes. Two weeks later, I got a call from my grandfather, who sounded more than a little angry.
“Get over here right now,” he growled. “There are five UPS trucks in front of my house. Each one of them is filled with boxes of 16mm reels of “You Bet Your Life.”
I rushed over to my grandfather’s house and sure enough, there were five UPS trucks parked in front. Each driver was wheeling dozens of boxes of film into the house.
“Where would you like us to put all of this?” one of the drivers asked me. “There are over 500 boxes and each box contains ten reels of film.”
5,000 reels of film, I thought to myself, as I watched the small army of UPS drivers putting boxes in any empty space they could find, including a now-vacated bedroom that once belonged to Groucho’s last wife from whom he was now divorced. I couldn’t help thinking this was beginning to resemble a scene from a Marx Brothers film, as boxes of film were stacked to the ceiling, literally taking up entire rooms. I also thought back to the man from NBC, who told me there were “a few boxes of film,” an understatement if ever there was one.
By the time the UPS drivers left later that day, my grandfather’s house – which was quite large – was filled from end to end with boxes of “You Bet Your Life” reels. And even though I knew my grandfather was angry, I was grateful that we had managed to save “You Bet Your Life” from extinction by NBC.
A month later, in early 1974, after checking the contents of the over 500 boxes and doing a little investigating, I had figured out that NBC had not only sent every reel of the original “You Bet Your Life” show, but also all the copies of “The Best of Groucho,” a syndicated version that included the show’s greatest episodes culled from the show’s original run.
Realizing there was a treasure trove of classic TV sitting in my grandfather’s house, I had a hunch that maybe other people besides myself would be interested in seeing some, if not all of it. After all, interest in Groucho was at a fever pitch, as the honors and accolades poured in from around the world -- the Marx Brothers were even set to receive an honorary Academy Award that year.
It turned out I was right. The next day, I, along with John Guedel, the show’s creator and producer were sitting in an office at local station KTLA, where we pitched the head of programming our idea of running “The Best of Groucho” in one of their late night
timeslots. Though the executive loved the idea, he had one demand: Someone was going to have to go through every show, so they would have an idea of what they were running.
That someone turned out to be me. As I said earlier, I had been looking for a job and now I had one. I was paid $150 a week and my duties consisted of spending eight hours a day at my grandfather’s house, watching as many episodes as possible and archiving every one. As an added bonus, I ate lunch with my grandfather every day and he even took time to watch several episodes a day himself. I never told anyone, but I probably would’ve paid them $150 a a week to let me do it.
Two months later, “The Best of Groucho” appeared on KTLA, the same week my grandfather received his honorary Academy Award, and was soon running on hundreds of stations throughout the country. Since then, the shows have been released on VHS, DVD and now the various streaming services for many millions to enjoy, all because of a phone call from some guy working in a warehouse in New Jersey asking if we wanted him to send us some 16mm reels of “You Bet Your Life.”
Am I glad I happened to answer that phone call that day? What else can I say but, “you bet your life,” I am. --Previously published online at Boing Boing. Reprinted with permission from the author.
photographs by Andy Marx
Contributors
Marc Carver, a British poet, was recently an internationally featured poet at the Austin International Poetry Festival. He has published four books of poetry and has had some seventy or so poems published and posted at various sites. All of his books are available on Amazon.com. He is now writing a book of fiction and hopes to publish it very shortly. He performs mainly in London and will continue to write poetry as long as people enjoy his work.
himself to writing a definitive operator’s manual for the Belarus model 420 farm tractor in the style of Yokoi Yayū’s haibun. Following his graduation he found no immediate job opportunities and was forced into working as a night inspector of kotleti patties at the A. Mikoyan Meat Processing Plant. Sokolov turned to wandering around Suzdal, disguised as a mushroom. He continues this custom to this day.http://bit.ly/1n6ocgJ
Garth von Buchholz is a Canadian author of fiction, nonfiction, poetry and drama. He was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and raised in Winnipeg, Montreal, Quebec and Vancouver, British Columbia. He currently lives on Vancouver Island in British Columbia. He received his undergraduate arts degree at the University of Winnipeg in 1994 and started his graduate studies in English Literature at the University of Manitoba in 1995. http://bit.ly/1sZroze
Born to an impoverished family, Changming Yuan grew up in a remote Chinese village, received education at Shanghai Jiaotong University and further at Tianjin Teachers University, and worked as an English lecturer and college administrator before moving to Canada as an international student. while pursuing his graduate studies in English at University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon, he worked part time as the founding editor of The Saskatchewan Chinese Times for two years. Since he obtained his PhD, he has been teaching independently in Vancouver. During a family tour to Banff in early August of 2004, Yuan began to write poetry in English. Since mid-2005, Yuan has published more than 400 poems by nearly 370 literary journals /anthologies in 16 countries, which include Barrow Street, Best Canadian Poetry, BestNewPoemsOnline, London Magazine, Salzburg Review and Taj Mahal Review. Also, he has been nominated three times for a Pushcart prize.
Nazariy Radomir Sokolov was born in Volgograd and spent his formative years in SpasskDalny, where he assisted his father in striping wooden horses. With the financial assistance of his maternal grandfather, Sokolov was able to attend Siberian Federal University and graduate with a Master of Arts in Critical Social Thought. It was here where he would dedicate
Neil Ellman, a poet from New Jersey, has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and Rhysling Award. More than 1,000 of his poems, most of which are ekphrastic and written in response to works of modern and contemporary art, appear in print and online journals, anthologies and chapbooks throughout the world.
rtist/bio/brianna-leapruett/6118748#fsZSWd4yuxA LyCAL.99
Anna-Lynne Williams is an American musician best known as the lead singer, songwriter, and guitarist of Trespassers William, an indie rock band based in Seattle, Washington. Lotte Kestner is her solo project.
Peti Morgan is a fine art landscape photographer living in Wellington, New Zealand. Fine art prints are available to purchase. www.petimorgan.co.nz
China Mountain and Stolen are available to purchase as CDs at www.saintlouprecords.com
Jason Constantine Ford is from Perth in Australia. He works as an employee at a book shop. He has over fifteen years of experience in studying various styles of poetry. The major influences on his style of poetry are William Blake, Edgar Alan Poe and Gerard Manley Hopkins. Blake’s ability to address the social issues of his time through poetry and painting has had a lasting impact upon Jason’s early years. For correspondence, contact Jason at jasonconstantineford@gmail .com
Brianna Lea Pruett’s musical meanderings wander all over the map, much like herself - from New York, Los Angeles, Portland, and the UK, always returning back to California. Born in the mountains of Northern California and a singer from her earliest days, she got her taste for performance singing in friend's living rooms and at cafes and small clubs as a teen. Now a multi-media artist, in touch with her diverse cultural background and an even more global range of influences, she portrays folk, country, and the musical style of her Appalachian and Cherokee heritage with equal passion as her musical writing that bespeaks a love for jazz, blues, and soul music. Pruett has recently released an EP of 5 new songs titled Keeping You In Mind, and is back in the studio working on a new fulllength recording, Gypsy Bells. Read more at http://www.artistdirect.com/a
Discography Solo (as Lotte Kestner) China Mountain (5 May 2008) China Mountain B-Sides (1 April 2009) Stolen (1 June 2011) Trespassers William Songs Solo (28 August 2011) All That You Start B-Sides (19 June 2012) Extra Covers Collection (5 October 2012) Blue Bird of Happiness (15 March 2013) Until EP (16 April 2013) Trespassers William (as Anna-Lynne Williams) Anchor (30 November 1999) Different Stars (28 September 2002) Having (28 February 2006) The Noble House ep (28 May 2007) The Natural Order of Things (8 June 2009) Cast (4 September 2012) Links https://myspace.com/ annalynnew https://www.youtube. com/user/teaandcake4 8 http://www.lottekestn er.tumblr.com
http://www.saintmari erecords.com/artists1/trespassers-william
Andy Marx is a writer and photographer living in Los Angeles. He can be reached through his website, andymarx.com. Check out his Jazz Tribute CD to his other grandfather, Gus Kahn. Felino A. Soriano is a member of The Southern Collective Experience. He is the founding editor of the online endeavors Counterexample Poetics and Of/with; in addition, he is a contributing editor for the online journal, Sugar Mule. His writing finds foundation in created coöccurrences, predicated on his strong connection to various idioms of jazz music. His poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Anthology,
and appears in various online and print publications, with recent poetry collections including Mathematics (Nostrovia! Poetry, 2014), Espials (Fowlpox Press, 2014), and watching what invents perception (WISH Publications, 2013). He lives in California with his wife and family and is a director of supported living and independent living programs providing supports to adults with developmental disabilities. Links to his published and forthcoming poems, books, interviews, images, etc. can be found at www.felinoasoriano.i nfo. Q.A. Wagstaff is the former owner of a Gibson L-5, which Andre Segovia attempted to play before complaining about metal strings. The Marshall amp didn’t help either. As a pianist, Stacey Barelos specializes in the music of the 20th and 21st centuries, particularly the music of living composers. Her solo release, The Midwest American Piano Project, which features works by living composers with ties to the American Midwest, was released by Albany Records in 2008. The American Record Guide said “Stacey
Barelos…plays with authority and poetic nuance, her beautiful tone captured vividly in this warm recording…” Regarding her performance of Henry Cowell's Dynamic Motion and the Five Encores to Dynamic Motion, Gunther Schuller said, "It was by far the best performing of Cowell's piano music I've heard in a half a century - or perhaps ever." Much of her research, dedicated to helping performers and teachers with the music of Henry Cowell, can be found on her website, www.cowellpiano.com. Her CD of piano music by
Cowell was released by Centaur Records in 2012. As a composer, Stacey’s works have been performed across the U.S. and in Europe and Australia. Her recent work Rambunction is currently being featured on tour with the New Muse Duo. Upcoming works includes a piece for the woodwind quintet Black Marigold and collaboration with visual artist Marianne Evans Lombe. A teacher of private piano and composition for almost 20 years, Dr. Barelos has also held positions at Missouri Southern State
University, the Victorian College of the Arts in Melbourne, Australia, Bowling Green State University and Luther College. In all musical endeavors, Stacey works to bridge the gap between musician and audience through engaging programming, humor and most recently, crayons. http://www.staceybarelos. com/ A bit about Dawnell Harrison: "I have been published in over 60 magazines and journals including The Endicott Review, Abbey, Iconoclast, Nerve Cowboy, Mobius, and many others. Also, I have had 3 books of poetry
published through reputable publishers titled Voyager, The Maverick Posse, and The Fire Behind My Eyes."
Piano Song Jason Constantine Ford Loneliness surrounds my weary heart As I am seated on a bench wood Facing a piano with features that should Never allow an inner spark to depart. I search around the room to find the spark Endowed with strands of hope which ease the mind But only feel bitter emotions which grind Into my soul within a place so dark. I start to play the notes I know despite The emptiness of never knowing why A former love was left to hang as dry Upon the rails of sorrow without respite. Although my intellect cannot understand The reasons why she decided to leave, I play this song as one with strength to believe That hope can come to a life remaining bland. The kind of pain being felt within each note Is passing through my heart as song progresses. Tears are falling down my cheek as sadness presses Against the memories which make me feel remote.
Child 7, Bok Choy
Between Meals, Bok Choy
From
Of variant rhythms Felino A. Soriano
figurine I am calling that
a
l
e
n
g
d
cloud, the silent whole of a partial examination, the window to a perceived distance stilled in its ability to sit, softened within the open freedom of a warming hand, awaiting— again, or to continue among illusion of this onward thought of pensive density—
I am calling that cloud exterior to the abstract vision of my right-hand periphery a rhythm of despair’s as its shape is a fiery knot
unseen totality
unable to become acquired above the passersby removing ceiling looking into locating what cannot be hidden in this misery of distance’s oscillating measures
from their focal arrows
reflectional swirling silences see inward across the paths & paragraphs of this puddle’s introspective music
shade as age as numerical confusion peculiar by the shade of
tone/color
beard then what etches
hy-brids
an articulation
of artistic branding cannot conform which hands have held age nor the broken book beneath the eyes of unfocused clarity
left
voice colorized autonomies clear-view versions lines of mapping etches along grooves and physiological rhythms, —of legacies, length of elongated lives patterned amid mobile intelligences here or or-here
unaware beneath what dirt bellows prose
into experimental
this oval carving rests & promotes silence as penetrating virtue & spatial configuration of nonchalant expression
3 poems by Neil Ellman 1. 1. The Other Side of Reality (after the painting by George Condo) If there were another side of reality (which of course there isn’t) a curious place of eccentric plants without their faces and limbs and grotesque caricatures of men with neither skin nor bone we are the ones who would inhabit its caves and scratch our pictures on their walls we would (if it were real but it isn’t of course) no more than there is another side of time no more than there is the opposite of green and the inside of a line no more than poetry means any more than this reality is the truth (which it isn’t of course).
2. The Fire-eating Bird (after the lithograph by Joan Mir贸) Itself the sacrifice to the spirit of the flame the bird that eats the fire becomes the fire that eats the bird to burn another day the fire consumed becomes the bird that rises from its pyre to fly again as myth then live to burn the sky.
3. Enigmatic Combat (after the painting by Arshile Gorky) Enigma within an enigma spun from nervous wires on fire with patriotic scorn
the clash of opposites within the veins where ancient rivers flow
we versus them and they us who question why they’re not
who the victors, who defeated who with any reason for this war.
Photograph of Shaun Preston playing flaming
piano. Photographer: Peti Morgan
3 Poems by Dawnell Harrison Red and Tainted I am moving towards the grappling, vermillion light. You were never meant to come with me your body is red and tainted like a rust red engine at the bottom of a river. Do me no harm and don't follow me or leave me on the side of the road that eventually leads to the yellow and red tulip fields. I imagine you flailing about in a foreign sky.
Torn off As if my own face was to be torn off, you broke my soul into red fragments that caught the light of the orange sun. The pieces of me spun around in wavy circles like a Tilt-a-whirl at the fair. I was neither coming or going everything stood still like a lion eying its prey.
Heavy Your soul is heavy a bag full of steel girders. The weight of it presses into my bones, my flesh, any tender parts I own. I do not cry. My soul is light and golden it cannot take on your soul's infinite mass, the untouchable red.
Vivid, meatiest and laudably fluffed,, this free range chicken appears courtesy a raw, rakish zoo auk and some well-heeled fogeys.