REVIEW
by Scott Owens
(first published in Pirene's Fountain
AMERICAN AMEN
by Gary L. McDowell
Dream Horse Press, 2010
ISBN: 9781935716044
“Between dawn and dusk / is purgatorial,” says Gary McDowell in “Forever Falling Off or Out,” a poem in his stimulating new collection, American Amen. Night, that time of the unconscious, these lines imply, may be heaven or hell, but either way it is beyond our powers to control. Thus, the proper concern of mankind is that time between, that time of striving, of committing sins and making amends, of doing what we can to make the best of our conscious existence.
In keeping with this existential positioning, the best of these poems explore the coexistent contraries of human nature--the selfish and selfless, the savage and loving--and the thin veil of comfort that separates these polar inclinations. The speaker of “Winter” tells us:
I am not that far removed
from cracking bones
to put food in my stomach
. . . . . . . . . .
---------------------------------
I am not that far removed
from eating only what I catch
---------------------------------
I am not that far removed
from being afraid of waking
to find my family vanished.
Part of what we do to fend off our own savagery in this purgatorial existence is embodied by this book of poems, by any art, by any objectification of our psyche. In “Too Damn Perfect,” the speaker tells us “I’m trying to translate my misgivings into precipitation.” The line makes a fair statement about the artist’s purpose--translating misgivings into that which moves things forward--and perhaps just as fair a statement of what we all should be doing.
No one should think, however, that such an examination of life will be inevitably and invariably somber. One of the joys of this collection, in fact, is the sense of humor and humility frequently exhibited by the poems. In “Weather, Weather,” for example, the speaker lists his “greatest moments: eight hours of consecutive sleep, / four cheeseburgers in ten minutes, two women in my lifetime.” And later in the same poem he acknowledges, “I know that my greatest moment will one day be clogged in glaciers” and “I sometimes / wish I had more to record.” Similarly, and perhaps ultimately, he acknowledges in “Back Home” that “it’s impossible to get this right.” Fortunately, for those of us who manage to find these poems, none of these humbling facts about human endeavor has kept McDowell to “get this right.” And I hope, as I suspect McDowell does, that all of us will take up the same challenge of making meaning where uncertainty is the only thing granted.
Showing posts with label Pirene's Fountain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pirene's Fountain. Show all posts
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Six Degrees of Collaboration
Six Degrees of Collaboration:
An Essay on the Creative Process in the Second Person
by Scott Owens
(first published in Pirene's Fountain)
You decide to write a poem. You’ve read plenty of poetry, so you have some idea of what you’re doing. You figure you don’t need anyone’s help to do this. You certainly don’t need to collaborate with anyone. Nevertheless, as soon as you use the first word, in fact, as soon as you decide to write a poem, you enter into what I’ll call FIRST DEGREE COLLABORATION or UNCONSCIOUS UNILATERAL COLLABORATION. Everyone does it. It is, in fact, inescapable. Any use of language is influenced by every use of language we have encountered. Any attempt to write a poem is influenced by every poem we’ve encountered, even by the idea of certain arrangements of words constituting this thing we’ve learned from others to call a poem. It’s Frost’s line from “The Tuft of Flowers:” “Men work together, I told him from the heart / whether they work together or apart.”
With a finished draft in front of you, you realize that the poem echoes something else you’ve read, maybe something by Frost or Williams, Whitman or Dickinson, or maybe something more recent that you’ve read online, and you decide that the poem would gain texture and depth through intertextuality, by playing up that connection with another poem. So you find the piece being initially unintentionally imitated, and you make the imitation intentional, purposeful. You’ve just committed SECOND DEGREE COLLABORATION or CONSCIOUS UNILATERAL COLLABORATION. Not all poets do this, and I would guess that no poet does it all the time, but most good poets become at some point aware of their influences and utilize them on a conscious level. It remains a unilateral collaboration because the poem or poet being imitated played no active role in deciding to be imitated.
So you finish the poem, not really thinking that you’ve collaborated with anyone in an active way, but you decide, as so many poets do, that you’re proud of your creation and you want to show it to someone, someone, perhaps, whose work you admire, presuming that your admiration means they would appreciate your work as well. When you do, your audience is suitably impressed; however, they suggest that it might be stronger if you did something a little differently. Upon reflection you realize that they’re right, and you make the recommended change. Now you’re guilty of THIRD DEGREE COLLABORATION or CONSCIOUS BILATERAL COLLABORATION. Obviously, you intentionally, consciously, even pre-meditatedly accepted someone else’s help in this creation. Granted, it wasn’t an equitable bilateral collaboration. Your critiquer didn’t wield as much power in the final decision as you did, but nonetheless there were two conscious minds at work on the same product.
As you think about what you’ve just done, you come to the conclusion that you liked it. You surmise that most poets do it this way, and that since, to borrow a line from Frost again, “What worked for them might work for you,” you decide to do it again, only this time consciously so from the very beginning. You commit one or both variations of FOURTH DEGREE COLLABORATION: SERIAL CONSCIOUS UNILATERAL COLLABORATION, where you continue to imitate the style of a certain poem or poet; and SERIAL CONSCIOUS BILATERAL COLLABORATION, where you continue to seek the input of a particular audience. Perhaps, since the poems often derive from the same imitated source or are revised under the guidance of the same advisory source, they begin to cohere as poems with a related voice, perspective, or story.
And that’s when you dare go where few have gone before, into the dubious realm of FIFTH DEGREE COLLABORATION, a rarely visited place where even the word “collaboration” is no longer adequate to describe your actions. You realize as you hammer out the final details of a poem that it has been reworked to such a degree by the commentary of your critical audience that it has become as much his or hers as it is yours, that you have, perhaps unintentionally, taken the leap into SINGULAR COAUTHORSHIP. And in a moment of epiphany you also realize the ultimate irony of Frost’s “Mending Wall,” namely that the seemingly Cro-Magnon neighbor was in fact right, that “Good fences [do] make good neighbors,” albeit not because they separate, but rather because in maintaining them, we are brought together.
Having deviated thus far from the path of individual integrity, you finally give in completely to the dissolvent temptations of collaboration. You’ve come to learn that by surrendering absolute control, individual authorship, things do not, as Yeats feared, “fall apart,” but rather, perhaps, fall together. And so, you approach your collaborator with the idea of repeating this process not just on individual poems but on a sequence of poems, each consciously writing poems in response to poems written by the other, and each working together to revise poems begun by either of you, and determining together the nature of the poems that remain to be written to complete, or better, continue, the sequence. And since you are no longer certain which of you is responsible for any given poem, or line, or even word, you know you can only call this SERIAL COAUTHORSHIP, which must certainly constitute that most seditious, most subversive, and most insidious SIXTH DEGREE of COLLABORATION.
An Essay on the Creative Process in the Second Person
by Scott Owens
(first published in Pirene's Fountain)
You decide to write a poem. You’ve read plenty of poetry, so you have some idea of what you’re doing. You figure you don’t need anyone’s help to do this. You certainly don’t need to collaborate with anyone. Nevertheless, as soon as you use the first word, in fact, as soon as you decide to write a poem, you enter into what I’ll call FIRST DEGREE COLLABORATION or UNCONSCIOUS UNILATERAL COLLABORATION. Everyone does it. It is, in fact, inescapable. Any use of language is influenced by every use of language we have encountered. Any attempt to write a poem is influenced by every poem we’ve encountered, even by the idea of certain arrangements of words constituting this thing we’ve learned from others to call a poem. It’s Frost’s line from “The Tuft of Flowers:” “Men work together, I told him from the heart / whether they work together or apart.”
With a finished draft in front of you, you realize that the poem echoes something else you’ve read, maybe something by Frost or Williams, Whitman or Dickinson, or maybe something more recent that you’ve read online, and you decide that the poem would gain texture and depth through intertextuality, by playing up that connection with another poem. So you find the piece being initially unintentionally imitated, and you make the imitation intentional, purposeful. You’ve just committed SECOND DEGREE COLLABORATION or CONSCIOUS UNILATERAL COLLABORATION. Not all poets do this, and I would guess that no poet does it all the time, but most good poets become at some point aware of their influences and utilize them on a conscious level. It remains a unilateral collaboration because the poem or poet being imitated played no active role in deciding to be imitated.
So you finish the poem, not really thinking that you’ve collaborated with anyone in an active way, but you decide, as so many poets do, that you’re proud of your creation and you want to show it to someone, someone, perhaps, whose work you admire, presuming that your admiration means they would appreciate your work as well. When you do, your audience is suitably impressed; however, they suggest that it might be stronger if you did something a little differently. Upon reflection you realize that they’re right, and you make the recommended change. Now you’re guilty of THIRD DEGREE COLLABORATION or CONSCIOUS BILATERAL COLLABORATION. Obviously, you intentionally, consciously, even pre-meditatedly accepted someone else’s help in this creation. Granted, it wasn’t an equitable bilateral collaboration. Your critiquer didn’t wield as much power in the final decision as you did, but nonetheless there were two conscious minds at work on the same product.
As you think about what you’ve just done, you come to the conclusion that you liked it. You surmise that most poets do it this way, and that since, to borrow a line from Frost again, “What worked for them might work for you,” you decide to do it again, only this time consciously so from the very beginning. You commit one or both variations of FOURTH DEGREE COLLABORATION: SERIAL CONSCIOUS UNILATERAL COLLABORATION, where you continue to imitate the style of a certain poem or poet; and SERIAL CONSCIOUS BILATERAL COLLABORATION, where you continue to seek the input of a particular audience. Perhaps, since the poems often derive from the same imitated source or are revised under the guidance of the same advisory source, they begin to cohere as poems with a related voice, perspective, or story.
And that’s when you dare go where few have gone before, into the dubious realm of FIFTH DEGREE COLLABORATION, a rarely visited place where even the word “collaboration” is no longer adequate to describe your actions. You realize as you hammer out the final details of a poem that it has been reworked to such a degree by the commentary of your critical audience that it has become as much his or hers as it is yours, that you have, perhaps unintentionally, taken the leap into SINGULAR COAUTHORSHIP. And in a moment of epiphany you also realize the ultimate irony of Frost’s “Mending Wall,” namely that the seemingly Cro-Magnon neighbor was in fact right, that “Good fences [do] make good neighbors,” albeit not because they separate, but rather because in maintaining them, we are brought together.
Having deviated thus far from the path of individual integrity, you finally give in completely to the dissolvent temptations of collaboration. You’ve come to learn that by surrendering absolute control, individual authorship, things do not, as Yeats feared, “fall apart,” but rather, perhaps, fall together. And so, you approach your collaborator with the idea of repeating this process not just on individual poems but on a sequence of poems, each consciously writing poems in response to poems written by the other, and each working together to revise poems begun by either of you, and determining together the nature of the poems that remain to be written to complete, or better, continue, the sequence. And since you are no longer certain which of you is responsible for any given poem, or line, or even word, you know you can only call this SERIAL COAUTHORSHIP, which must certainly constitute that most seditious, most subversive, and most insidious SIXTH DEGREE of COLLABORATION.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
New Issue of Pirene's Fountain Features Reviews By and Of Scott Owens
"Pirene's Fountain" has been one of my favorite online journals for years now. The editors are not only good judges of poetry but nice people as well. I feel fortunate to have been published in "PF" several times previously, but the new issue (April 2011) features a number of gratifying connections to my work.
Among the 100 or so poems in the issue from notable poets like CJ Sage, Lisa Zaran, Russell Ragsdale, Alex Grant, and Natalie Williams are 2 of my own, "Solitude" and "13 Ways of Flowers" and 8 of my haiku. Along with "Solitude," the editors have included 3 photos from my colleague and favorite photographer, Clayton Joe Young (his photos grace the cover of two of my books, "Paternity" and the forthcoming "Something Knows the Moment"). The photos in "PF" were the inspiration for "Solitude."
This issue of "PF" also includes two reviews of mine, one of Steven Roberts' "Another Word for Home," and another of Gary McDowell's "American Amen." There is also a review by Caleb Pletcher of "The Nature of Attraction," my most recent book, a collaboration with Pris Campbell. Finally, the editors have included my article on collaboration, "Six Degrees of Collaboration."
Here is a link to the entire issue: http://www.pirenesfountain.com/current_issue.html
I hope you'll visit and become a regular reader of "Pirene's Fountain."
Among the 100 or so poems in the issue from notable poets like CJ Sage, Lisa Zaran, Russell Ragsdale, Alex Grant, and Natalie Williams are 2 of my own, "Solitude" and "13 Ways of Flowers" and 8 of my haiku. Along with "Solitude," the editors have included 3 photos from my colleague and favorite photographer, Clayton Joe Young (his photos grace the cover of two of my books, "Paternity" and the forthcoming "Something Knows the Moment"). The photos in "PF" were the inspiration for "Solitude."
This issue of "PF" also includes two reviews of mine, one of Steven Roberts' "Another Word for Home," and another of Gary McDowell's "American Amen." There is also a review by Caleb Pletcher of "The Nature of Attraction," my most recent book, a collaboration with Pris Campbell. Finally, the editors have included my article on collaboration, "Six Degrees of Collaboration."
Here is a link to the entire issue: http://www.pirenesfountain.com/current_issue.html
I hope you'll visit and become a regular reader of "Pirene's Fountain."
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Ekphrastic Poetry to Serve Larger Purpose
EKPHRASTIC POETRY TO SERVE LARGER PURPOSE
Ekphrasis is the graphic, and sometimes dramatic, description of a visual work of art. The word is derived from the Greek roots “ek,” meaning “out,” and “phrasis,” meaning “speak.” When combined, these roots originally referred to the calling of an inanimate object by name. Today, the term is most often used to refer to a work of art that is based on another work of art in a different media. For example, a poem about a painting would be called an ekphrastic poem. Similarly, a painting of a sculpture would be considered ekphrastic.
The practice of ekphrastic work is a common exercise in all arts today. Think of the number of films you’ve seen that are “based” on novels, or the number of paintings that refer to specific characters or scenes from literature. In the past year in Hickory, Lenoir Rhyne University, Full Circle Arts, and Poetry Hickory have all been involved in ekphrastic poetry projects, where poets have been invited to compose works based on painting and photography exhibits.
Now, for the second year, Aroma of Art (AOA) is including an ekphrastic poetry event as part of their 8th annual benefit art auction. Aroma of Art is an important annual fundraiser for AIDS Leadership Foothills area Alliance (ALFA), the Humane Society of Catawba County, and the Women’s Resource Center. Donated works of art will be displayed at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse during the month of February, and silent bids on the pieces will be accepted throughout the month. Winning bids will be announced at the AOA Grand Finale, February 28.
This year, poets are invited to view the works of art at Taste Full Beans, starting February 1, and write their own original pieces inspired by the work they see. Approximately 20-25 poems will be selected, framed, put on display with the work of art they were inspired by, read by the poet at a special pre-finale event on February 26, and finally, given to the person who places the highest bid on the subject work of art.
Poets interested in submitting their work can email their poems to me at asowens1@yahoo.com or drop off their work at Taste Full Beans. Deadline for submission is noon, February 17. A panel of judges will determine the poems that will be included in the display and the reading. Submissions should include the poet’s name, the name of the work of art the poem is based on, and the name of the artist.
Printed below is one of the poems included in last year’s Poetry Hickory / Aroma of Art Ekphrastic Poetry Event. The poem has subsequently been published in the journal Pirene’s Fountain:
The Persistence of Field by Scott Owens
after Carl Moser’s photograph “Raking Hay”
This field goes on in time,
wrapping around mountain, years, generations.
What are two men against a mountain,
to plow it, sow it, lay it straight,
maintain fenceline and productivity?
He has worn this hat every summer
for thirty years, flattening fields
he claims as his own,
but even as he fights the horses
to keep them in line, knock down
a season’s worth of weeds,
even as he grips the reins
and guides the blade,
he can’t help but notice
white breath of queen-anne’s lace,
orange fire of asclepias tuberosa.
For more information on Aroma of Art please call Taste Full Beans staff at 325-0108.
Ekphrasis is the graphic, and sometimes dramatic, description of a visual work of art. The word is derived from the Greek roots “ek,” meaning “out,” and “phrasis,” meaning “speak.” When combined, these roots originally referred to the calling of an inanimate object by name. Today, the term is most often used to refer to a work of art that is based on another work of art in a different media. For example, a poem about a painting would be called an ekphrastic poem. Similarly, a painting of a sculpture would be considered ekphrastic.
The practice of ekphrastic work is a common exercise in all arts today. Think of the number of films you’ve seen that are “based” on novels, or the number of paintings that refer to specific characters or scenes from literature. In the past year in Hickory, Lenoir Rhyne University, Full Circle Arts, and Poetry Hickory have all been involved in ekphrastic poetry projects, where poets have been invited to compose works based on painting and photography exhibits.
Now, for the second year, Aroma of Art (AOA) is including an ekphrastic poetry event as part of their 8th annual benefit art auction. Aroma of Art is an important annual fundraiser for AIDS Leadership Foothills area Alliance (ALFA), the Humane Society of Catawba County, and the Women’s Resource Center. Donated works of art will be displayed at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse during the month of February, and silent bids on the pieces will be accepted throughout the month. Winning bids will be announced at the AOA Grand Finale, February 28.
This year, poets are invited to view the works of art at Taste Full Beans, starting February 1, and write their own original pieces inspired by the work they see. Approximately 20-25 poems will be selected, framed, put on display with the work of art they were inspired by, read by the poet at a special pre-finale event on February 26, and finally, given to the person who places the highest bid on the subject work of art.
Poets interested in submitting their work can email their poems to me at asowens1@yahoo.com or drop off their work at Taste Full Beans. Deadline for submission is noon, February 17. A panel of judges will determine the poems that will be included in the display and the reading. Submissions should include the poet’s name, the name of the work of art the poem is based on, and the name of the artist.
Printed below is one of the poems included in last year’s Poetry Hickory / Aroma of Art Ekphrastic Poetry Event. The poem has subsequently been published in the journal Pirene’s Fountain:
The Persistence of Field by Scott Owens
after Carl Moser’s photograph “Raking Hay”
This field goes on in time,
wrapping around mountain, years, generations.
What are two men against a mountain,
to plow it, sow it, lay it straight,
maintain fenceline and productivity?
He has worn this hat every summer
for thirty years, flattening fields
he claims as his own,
but even as he fights the horses
to keep them in line, knock down
a season’s worth of weeds,
even as he grips the reins
and guides the blade,
he can’t help but notice
white breath of queen-anne’s lace,
orange fire of asclepias tuberosa.
For more information on Aroma of Art please call Taste Full Beans staff at 325-0108.
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