Review: American Symphony

Last night, B, T, and I watched American Symphony on Netflix, a documentary which followed the extraordinary musician Jon Batiste in 2022. It is also being shown in theaters.

I had loved watching Jon Batiste on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. He and his band, Stay Human, were the house band on the show, beginning with its inaugural episode in 2015. I appreciated Jon’s talent, his ability to cross and blend musical genres, and his gentle, positive spirit. While his jazz roots were always in evidence, he would often use elements from classical music or indigenous/folk music in his compositions, arrangements, and improvisations. During the early part of the pandemic when the show was being produced remotely, Jon would often still have a segment with Stephen where they would talk from their respective homes and Jon would play a bit on his piano or sing. Even though things were very different, it was a comfort to hear Jon’s expressive, calming voice in a difficult time.

Jon always had multiple projects going on, including performing, recording, and composing. For example, he won an Oscar for best original score as one of the composers for Disney-Pixar’s Soul in 2021. 2022 was set to be another busy, productive year for Jon Batiste, which director Matthew Heineman set out to document on film.

Jon was preparing to premiere his “American Symphony” which would bring together elements of influence of his and American music on stage at Carnegie Hall for a one-time-only performance. He was about to be nominated for 11 Grammy awards across an array of genres. There was still his Late Show gig.

And then, his long-time partner and soon-to-be spouse, the writer/author Suleika Jaouad, had a recurrence of leukemia after ten years in remission and American Symphony transformed from being a documentary about a composer and his music into a film about love, life, living, and how art expresses that all, helps us to process, and propels us forward.

The openness of Jon and Suleika in showing us their pain, anxieties, and vulnerability, as well as their love, art, and joys, is incredibly brave and moving. It was upsetting to me to hear that Jon faced a lot of criticism and negative comments about his eleven Grammy nominations – and eventual five wins, announced while Suleika was beginning chemotherapy. It just seemed so mean-spirited to inflect on a gentle soul at such a vulnerable time. I had known that things were stressful for Jon because he needed to end his years as band leader at The Late Show, but I hadn’t realized the extent of the situation until watching American Symphony.

While being a musician or music-lover will add to your appreciation of this film, it is certainly recommended to all teens and adults who are open to honest expressions of the human condition. It is not for younger children, who might be upset by the intensity of the medical side of the story.

My best wishes to Jon and Suleika for many years of love and art to come. Thank you for sharing so much of yourselves with us.

Photo by Denise Jans on Unsplash

SoCS: blue spruce

When my spouse B was growing up in rural southern Vermont, his family always had a blue spruce as a Christmas tree.

They are beautiful trees with a nice fragrance but they are dangerous!

The needles are very stiff and sharp so they are very prickly to decorate.

Unfortunately, B is also allergic to them, so he would wind up with his hands covered in red, itchy pricks and blotches on his hands.

In our own home, we do not have a blue spruce for a Christmas tree or a spruce at all. We do have a live tree but it is a fir. We used Douglas firs until they fell victim to a pest and climate changes. Now, we usually have a concolor fir. Also beautiful with a lovely scent but no itchy, pin-prickly hands!

Wishing a happy Christmas to those who celebrate and peace, joy, and love to all!

(Photo: our tree this year)
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Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is “spruce.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/12/22/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-23-2023/

Avis Collins Robinson and Winter

Today is the first day of winter in the Northern Hemisphere and one of the first things I read is this tender, reflective piece from Eugene Robinson of the Washington Post about the unfinished art quilt and essay “Winter” – the last in a series that his spouse Avis Collins Robinson was working on at the time of her death. (The link above is a gift so it will open for everyone without paywall.)

The piece begins:

For Avis Collins Robinson, the artist who created these works heralding the seasons, winter meant both an end and a beginning. The bare trees and sere landscape were stark, but they held the promise of spring and renewal — not a mere hope but a promise.

I wanted to share his words and her art with you as the seasons continue to unfold inexorably before us.

We are fortunate that art and words continue to speak to us, even when their creators have passed away.

Love also endures.

(Photo by Timothy Eberly on Unsplash)

SoCS: a Christmas baking poem

It’s been a busy week and I didn’t look at Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday post until just now, early Saturday morning. (Linda puts it out on Friday so folks have a bit of a heads-up, although huge amounts of advanced planning, as well as edits, are against the SoCS rules.)

As it happens, my post yesterday goes very well with the SoCS prompt today, which is “bake.”

I wrote yesterday about a poem that was just published by Silver Birch Press, “My husband and daughters make Christmas gingerbread.” Yes, it’s “make” rather than “bake” in the title, but baking is definitely involved in the poem.

B has turned into the main baker in the house. This year, with no visits from extended family planned and just the three of us at home, B is not doing our usual Christmas practice of having at least a half dozen kinds of cookies available at once. Instead, he is doing serial baking. So far, he has made pfeffernüsse and pecan puffs.

No gingerbread yet, but I’m sure it will be coming…

Gingerbread Poem on Silver Birch Press!

It’s no secret that submitting poetry for publication is mostly an exercise in rejection, but this week is a time to share some successes. Yesterday, I posted about the publication of three poems in Emulate. Today, I’m happy to share that Silver Birch Press has published my poem “My husband and daughters make Christmas gingerbread” as part of their SPICES & SEASONINGS Series! Many thanks to Melanie and the Silver Birch Press team for including me in this several-months-long-and-counting series!

I submitted to the series back in late August and received the acceptance notification in early September, but assumed, correctly, that they would hold publication until Christmas-cookie-baking season. It’s fun and festive to have it appear now. (Photo is some of our gingerbread from 2010.)

This poem started with a prompt from Heather Dorn in December, 2015, when she was facilitating a women’s poetry workshop called Sappho’s Circle. The middle “action” section of the poem descends from that time. When the Silver Birch Press call for submissions came in this summer, calling for writing about a specific spice or seasoning, I immediately thought of that poem and set about revising it to “spice it up.”

B and I have often discussed how it is the amount of clove in these cookies that distinguishes them so that became the focus of the new opening and closing sections. I was also able to workshop the poem with my fellow Grapevine Poets before submitting to Silver Birch Press.

As it happens, Silver Birch published the poem on their site yesterday, so I was able to share it via social media then, while waiting to do the blog post today, given that I had already posted about the poems in Emulate yesterday and wanted to spread the poetic good news reporting out a bit here at Top of JC’s Mind.

Because of that, I’ve already had a number of comments on Facebook about the poem. One from my college roommate was especially touching, as she referenced her “unexpected joy” at seeing her mother’s words in the cookbook inscription in my poem. My eyes welled with tears, remembering our moms, both of whom died a few years ago.

In workshopping this poem, there was discussion about how much detail to leave in the poem and how much to cut. There is always a tension in revision on this point and I admire poets who can choose just the right detail to impact their audience. I tend to be guilty of too much detail, which sometimes leads to comments of “why should I care?” about some detail or other. I’m grateful, though, that I chose to leave that particular detail in this poem.

Granted, no other reader may have found that specific moment of joy from this poem, but, perhaps, there is another detail that struck them, that reminded them of family or baking or Christmas tradition. It’s not something that I’m likely to ever know.

This poem has been described to me as “lovely” and “charming.” I realize that others would term it overly sentimental or unsophisticated.

Perhaps, it is all of those things.

I do know, though, that it is authentic to who I am as a poet and as a person. I think – or, at least, I hope – that comes through to those who encounter my work.

As always, your comments are welcome, either here, on Facebook, or at the Silver Birch Press post.

Wishing you all a delicious treat that suits your taste!

SoCS: greetings

To me, the holiday season is not the same without sending cards and/or letters to people.

My ideal for many years was to send cards with handwritten notes to everyone on my list, with some people getting customized printed letters.

I’ve modified from that ideal, though, perhaps permanently, as life has gotten more stressful or busy or overwhelming in various ways.

For example, there have been years that I wrote to friends in November rather than December because I couldn’t bear to send a holiday letter that announced the death of a parent. There have been times when other family members have sent out cards to our extended family so I could concentrate on sending cards to my friends.

I send out greetings to people from many decades of my life, going back to high school days, continuing through college, and on through my decades living here. I send cards to people I haven’t seen for forty years. I send cards to people who I haven’t heard from for years and years. (That should have been “whom” but stream of consciousness rules don’t allow for edits!)

Perhaps, there are people who get my greetings and think “Why?” after all this time do I still send out my well wishes and stories of what I and my family are doing these days.

It’s important to me to let you know that I’m thinking about you and wishing you well and honoring the place you had in my life.

Even if you never read what I’ve written or even open the envelope.

I’ll never know.

Photo by Milada Vigerova on Unsplash
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Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday today is “to me.” Join us! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/12/08/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-dec-9-2023/

One-Liner Wednesday: Norman Lear

It seems to me that the bulk of what we’ve done is a celebration of family. They’re all families that hang together, they all love one another, they go through the ordeal of life, but they come out on the other side of that ordeal connected. Together.

Norman Lear, who died yesterday at the age of 101, on his work which included television series All in the Family, Maude, The Jeffersons, Good Times, Sanford and Son, and One Day at a Time.

Please join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/12/06/one-liner-wednesday-why-is-it/

a belated Thanksgiving

Because spouse B had contracted COVID and needed to isolate at home and daughter T and I were masking around each other in case one of us was infected, we didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving last Thursday – or, I should say, we celebrated with a nice, but not fancy, dinner of roast pork with roasted vegetables with T and I eating in the dining room and B at the kitchen table where we could talk to each other at a safe distance. Instead of the traditional pie, we had (the also-traditional) Aunt Gert’s Indian pudding for dessert.

That Thursday was Day 12 of B’s COVID experience and the first day he had tested negative. On average, Omicron infections last for eight days, so B was on the long side of the spectrum but someone has to be to balance out those who have a short infectious phase. Because he needed to have two negative tests 48 hours apart for us to be unmasked around each other, he decided that our fancier Thanksgiving dinner should be on Sunday.

While, for many years, I did the bulk of the cooking at our house, I don’t especially enjoy it. B, on the other hand, likes cooking and baking, so he chose the menu and made the meal. We enjoyed a delicious dinner of individual beef Wellington with roasted Brussels sprouts with bacon and a Braeburn and Cortland apple pie for dessert.

One of the things for which we are most thankful is that B’s bout with COVID was relatively mild, even if his infectious period did hang on longer than expected. We are also thankful that T and I remained uninfected. The pool of people I know who have never had COVID has dwindled to just a few, so I know it’s likely we will contract it someday, but, for now, we are all happy to be able to spend time together at home unmasked in the same room, whether or not there is a fancy late-Thanksgiving meal on the table.

Photo by Pro Church Media on Unsplash

One-Liner Wednesday: five years ago

Our then one-year-old granddaughter ABC enjoying Thanksgiving dinner with her great-grandfather Paco in the background; I’m missing both of them today, one due to distance, the other to death.

Please join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2023/11/22/one-liner-wednesday-clownin-around-2/

still positive

Spouse B is still testing positive for COVID on Day 11, although the line on the test kit is fainter so maybe he is getting closer to the two negative tests 48 hours apart to be ready to be unmasked together without worry.

Not sure yet what we will do about Thanksgiving. It will just be the three of us and we were planning to do something other than the traditional turkey dinner. Maybe we will just postpone until we can all eat together in the same room. T and I have been eating in the dining room while B sequesters himself in his office at mealtimes.

We all remain grateful that his symptoms were relatively mild and short-lived but we are anxious to actually spend time together again. We are also grateful that T and I aren’t infected but we want to make sure we remain cautious. B would feel so badly if his case spread to us because we got tired of following protocol. Given the length of time that has passed, we all realize T and I dodged catching it when he was infectious before and in the early hours of the symptomatic phase.

So, at least, three more days of masking in our future.

I might need to order some more KF94 masks…

(COVID Photo by Martin Sanchez on Unsplash)