Tag: art

Write Out Loud 2024

I am honored to have been selected for the fourth annual Glimmer Globe Theatre/Fenimore Art Museum Write Out Loud performance on Saturday, April 20th. There were 22 writers represented with a mix of poems, short story, essays, and even a short play, all written by people living within a 100-mile radius of Cooperstown, New York.

My daughter T and I decided to make a weekend of it. We visited the Museum in the afternoon. Our favorite new exhibition was “As They Saw It: Women Artists Then and Now.” It will be showing through September 2, 2024. We loved how it demonstrated the power of women’s artistic expression over time, both as individuals and in relation to other women across the generations. We also appreciated viewing the thoughtfully curated Eugene and Clare Thaw Collection of American Indian Art, which has had a home at the Fenimore since 1995.

After a delicious early dinner at the Council Rock Brewery in a room filled with vintage clocks, T and I headed back to the Fenimore for the performance. We arrived early so that I could attend a walk-through. I had the opportunity to meet Christine Juliano, the actor who would read my poem, “Some Time Else” from my chapbook, Hearts. I admit that the whole evening was much more relaxing because I didn’t have to perform myself. It made the walk-through more interesting as I could observe the microphone adjustment and lighting cues without having to worry about dealing with them myself. It was also a good reminder that having a mike is not an excuse to dial back on vocal projection.

We had a good house for the performance, filling the auditorium, which was exciting for me who is more used to wondering if the readers will outnumber the audience! A brief bio from each writer was read as they or the actor reading their piece took the stage. There were also accompanying visuals projected behind the stage that complemented each reading.

The range of topics was wide and it was fun to have a mix of genres represented. While the age of the writers skewed older, we did have some younger folks participating. Quite a number of the writers had been professors or editors or directors of writing series, so I, totally lacking in academic English credentials myself, felt honored to have been chosen alongside them. Submissions for Write Out Loud are read anonymously so the individual piece is selected, not the author. I was also surprised that a large majority of writers had chosen to present themselves; one of the things that had attracted me to submit was the opportunity to hear an actor read my work. I must admit, though, that some of the writers were so evocative in their performance that I couldn’t imagine an actor would have done better.

I learned that Write Out Loud began as a virtual performance during the pandemic, which then continued as a live event when restrictions were lifted. This year saw the largest number of participants thus far.

I’m not going into too much detail about the program itself because, on Saturday, April 27 at 7 PM, the recording will be released on the Fenimore Art Museum’s YouTube channel. Update: The video of Write Out Loud 2024 is now available here. If you expand the description, you will find the program, helpfully indexed to bring you to whichever piece you select.

Thanks to the Fenimore Art Museum and the Glimmer Globe Theatre, especially Mike Tamburrino, Manager of Performing Arts Programs at the Fenimore Art Museum and the affiliated Farmers’ Museum, for including me in this special event!

Revisiting a poem on Ukraine

In the early weeks of this most recent phase of the war Russia is waging against Ukraine, Lorette Luzajic of The Ekphrastic Review chose Carousel, a 1906 painting by the Ukrainian artist Olexandr Murashko, as the prompt for the biweekly Ekphrastic Writing Challenge.

I was honored that she chose my poem for inclusion in a powerful set of responses.


In Kyiv

‘round and ‘round
the sisters
on the carousel

up and down
smiling
until

the earth shakes
the horses fall
the bloodied flee

or fight

~~~ Joanne Corey


I’m sorry that, nearly two years later, the Ukrainian people are still suffering this terrible invasion. I call on all freedom-loving nations to continue to support Ukraine without delay and without letting would-be authoritarians or autocrats get in the way. I particularly call on the United States Congress to pass an aid package without preconditions or extraneous amendments.

Human needs are much more important than political points.
*****
Join us for Linda’s Just Jot It January! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/01/25/daily-prompt-jusjojan-the-25th-2024/

One-Liner Wednesday: the purpose of practicing art

What I had to say to you, moreover, would not take long, to wit: Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.

Kurt Vonnegut

Join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays and Just Jot It January! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/01/10/one-liner-wednesday-jusjojan24-the-10th-so/ 

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

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)

Three Poems in Emulate Magazine!

I’m pleased to share the online version of Emulate Magazine Fall 2023 (Volume 5, Issue 1), which includes three of my MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Arts) ekphrastic poems. Many thanks to the Emulate Magazine team at Smith College for including my work in this issue! Smith is my alma mater, so being chosen for this publication is particularly close to my heart.

The theme of the issue is “Metamorphosis.” I was excited to discover that the editorial team had chosen my poem, “Time/Rate/Distance,” to open the issue! This poem is based on Richard Nonas’s Cut Back Through (for Bjorn), which is a long-term outdoor installation on the MASS MoCA grounds. It is comprised of three large granite chairs and five footstools. I suppose “Time/Rate/Distance” could be considered an American sonnet, because it has 14 lines, with a turn between lines 8 and 9, like an Italian sonnet. (Just throwing that comment in to address the common criticism that I don’t write enough in received Western forms, like sonnets, villanelles, and sestinas.)

“I Must Speak My Poem” (page 11) is based on Stephen Vitiello’s sound installation All Those Vanished Engines, housed in the Boiler House at MASS MoCA. My beloved Boiler House Poets Collective recorded our first reading there and we always visit when we are back for our reunion residencies. I was disappointed this year that we weren’t able to climb all the way to the rooftop, which offers a spectacular view of North Adams and the surrounding hills.

“Translation” (page 26) is a haiku based on the works of Justin Favela, whose pieces translating landscape paintings by José María Velasco using the paper and glue techniques of piñata art were part of the MASS MoCA Kissing Through a Curtain exhibition (2020-2021). I especially love that this poem appears on the page with a striking photograph by Avery Maltz.

All three of these poems are part of my chapbook manuscript of ekphrastic poems based on current and past exhibitions at MASS MoCA. Two of them are also included in my full-length manuscript centered on the North Adams area. I will, of course, add Emulate Magazine to my list of acknowledgements and my author page, joannecorey.com.

Be sure to check out this issue of Emulate Magazine! It is chock-full of poetry, prose, and images, all centered on metamorphosis and the myriad ways it manifests.

reflections on BHPC residency ’23

Yes, it’s been over a month since I returned home from the Boiler House Poets Collective residency with The Studios at MASS MoCA (Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Arts) in North Adams but I am finally getting around to a wrap-up post. I did post a couple of times during the residency, about Marika Maijala and our reading at the Bear & Bee Bookshop, although that was a far cry from most of our years in residence when I would post daily. Things were very busy, so posting took a back seat and this past month has been loaded with other commitments, such as the launch of the Third Act Upstate New York working group and the first concert of the Madrigal Choir of Binghamton’s 45th anniversary season. I also needed time to reflect on the residency and what it meant for the future of the Boiler House Poets Collective.

Until this year, the Boiler House Poets Collective reunion residencies had always had at least half of the participants being members of the original group that met in 2015 as the first group of poets in residence brought together in a collaboration between Jeffrey Levine of Tupelo Press and The Studios at MASS MoCA. For 2023, the number of participants went from eight to ten, with only myself and Kyle Laws planning to return in 2023. (Sadly, last-minute health complications prevented Kyle from joining us, so I was the lone “original” in 2023. I’m hoping to have this be a one-time occurrence.)

I had inherited the role of liaison with The Studios but also wound up acting as an organizer for this year of transition. I was determined to assemble a full complement of ten and to provide for all the elements that had been part of past residencies, including studio time, museum visits, daily workshopping, a group project, a public reading, and discussion/social time (often accompanied by food and drink). Because, in prior years, we had always had a core of originals, adding in new participants from among our poet-friends as slots became available, we hadn’t felt called to define who we were as a group. I thought, at this juncture, we needed to be more intentional about our identity and our goals. I let people know that we would be having an organizational meeting near the end of the residency to talk about what was important to us and what our plans would be going forward.

I admit that I was really nervous about how things would work out with so many people who had never met each other. For the first time, we had a member who was not herself a poet. In 2022, the BHPC residency overlapped with the residency of Nancy Edelstein, whose work centers around light. With that inspiration, I had designed our group project around the theme of light, inviting each person to contribute work that had to do with light. I had expected a group of poems but the amazing thing was that people began to notice light in new ways. One of our members was inspired to take photographs showcasing light and shadow. We were able to share our light-themed work with each other. It’s not yet clear whether or not we will produce some conglomeration of these that is shareable with the public. If we do, I’ll be sure to share it here.

Another thing that was new for BHPC this year was that we workshopped some pieces that were not poetry, including an essay, scene from a play, and excerpt of a radio play. It was interesting to expand our literary horizons. While we expect to remain grounded in poetry, it’s good to have that flexibility to serve our members’ needs.

I felt that the group had a good vibe from the time of our opening night dinner when we were first together but I was nervous for our organizational meeting when people would be assessing how things had gone and if they wanted to return in 2024. I was thrilled – and a bit teary – when all but one person immediately said they wanted to return next year; the remaining person hopes to but lives across the country, creating a lot more complications than those of us within easy driving distance. People enthusiastically volunteered for organizational roles, including inventing some duties I would never have thought of on my own, so that I will be able to concentrate on just doing the liaison role. I even have a deputy who is shadowing me and can take over if I’m sidelined for any reason. This new constellation has embraced being a collective in a wonderful way and I am immensely grateful.

On a personal level, I appreciated how supportive people were of my work. As regular readers here at Top of JC’s Mind may recall, I grew up in the North Adams area and have two manuscripts, a full-length and a chapbook, that I am submitting to presses and contests. I’m at a crossroads with the full-length collection. I have a contract offer from a hybrid publisher but I’m not sure that is the way I want to go. One day over lunch, people were listening to my concerns and offering suggestions, which were very helpful and have led to my scheduling a manuscript consultation with a professional editor next month. I’m hoping that will help me clarify the path I need to pursue.

I also appreciated that people took my work seriously. One of the poets said that my poems were important in preserving the history of the area. That was so gratifying to me, even though I seldom dare to think in those terms. I do think about those poems as being ones that only I would write, given my perspective as someone who grew up there but that has lived elsewhere most of my adult life. It’s a sort of inside/outside perspective that would be difficult to replicate in quite the same way. I don’t tend to think that my following the dictum to “write what you know” would seem important to someone else, so it was nice to hear. It makes my search for a publisher and my wish to have the book be as strong as possible feel more weighty.

So, I have joyfully marked the dates for the 2024 Boiler House Poets Collective residency on my calendar for next October. I’m looking forward to being among this remarkable group of women again, but I’m also grateful to know that, if something happens that prevents me from being there, the group will go on without me.

My heart will be there, though…

The Boiler House Poets Collective 2023

Marika Maijala at MASS MoCA

I am here at MASS MoCA, in residence with the Boiler House Poets Collective, where there are always new things happening. MASS MoCA has recently opened the Research & Development Store, which yesterday hosted an artist talk by Marika Maijala, a Finnish artist, illustrator, and author that I was fortunate to attend.

Marika was in the United States for the first time to appear at the Brooklyn Book Festival in celebration of the English translation of her book Rosie Runs, her first children’s book for which she also wrote the text. (Translation by Mia Spangenberg) She was very engaging, self-effacing, and friendly in her talk and in answering numerous questions. She very kindly signed books for us with special messages.

Then, we were all privileged to go to the also recently established studio and gallery of Gary Lichtenstein Editions. During the day, Marika and Gary, an artist with over forty-five years of experience in silkscreen printing, had collaborated to design a new print for the occasion and we got to see Gary do some pulls as they collaborated on the final color run. It was amazing to see Gary’s skill with the press and the subtlety of color he was able to achieve!

I was so grateful to see and hear from both Marika Maijala and Gary LIchtenstein. You can find the work of many artists working in collaboration with Gary at the gallery in North Adams or online at the link above. You can find Rosie Runs at an independent bookstore near you or online at Amazon and other sites. It’s been translated into quite a number of languages, so check to see if it is available in the language of the children who are dear to you.

In memory of Peg Johnston

With the recent death of Peg Johnston, Broome County (NY) has lost one of its anchors of the arts. She was well known for her involvement with the Cooperative Gallery in Binghamton and the Department of Public Art, which created many of the murals in our area.

In Peg’s memory, I’m posting the poem I wrote as a representative of the Binghamton Poetry Project for the Broome County Arts Council‘s Heart of the Arts Award dinner in 2016, when Peg was honored with that award along with Emily Jablon. (A video of my reading the poem is here.)

Thanks to the Department of Public Art
~~ by Joanne Corey

 for Emily Jablon, Peg Johnston, and all whose hearts are in the arts

Stencils and murals
on descending levels
of the Water Street parking ramp
time-travel through that historic corner –
Link Blue Box flight simulators
evolve from pipe organs –
punching in on Bundy
time recording machines
in the days before IBM
and the move to Endicott –
on street level
“Welcome to the birthplace
of virtual reality”

We walk back
walk through
move forward
cover
recover
remember
build
rebuild
renovate
together

Walking along the Chenango
more murals –
diverse faces
in shades of gray
with colorful songbird
overlay –
hot air balloons
float over green hills –
BINGHAMTON
in bold letters
filled with landmarks
proclaiming their location

We draw
paint
photograph
digitize
share
write
read
view
review
create
recreate
together

Across Court Street
a riot of mosaics
flowing around curves
moving through the spectrum
patterns
shapes
florals
the clear message
“BE  INSPIRED,
BE BINGHAMTON”

Broken shards of glass and lives
re-order
re-assemble
tessellate
shine in the sun
glisten in the rain
reflect
renew
touch
together

We sing
play
listen
dance
act
react
interact
applaud
together

We live
breathe
eat
drink
laugh
sigh
smile
artfully
thoughtfully
cooperatively
with heart


I was honored that, after the dinner, Peg had asked for a copy of my poem, which I gladly gave. I hope that, over these last few years, she looked at it occasionally and that it made her smile.

May she rest in peace and may her contributions to the arts be remembered for decades to come.

Battersea Power Station

Spouse B, Daughter T, and I are in London, UK, visiting Daughter E, Son-in-law L, and Granddaughters ABC and JG. Yesterday, we made a trip to the Battersea Power Station.

Battersea Power Station as seen from the Tube station

Having grown up around power stations, I am geeky about them and would like to tour them, but the Battersea Power Station after decades of use as a coal-fired power station, designation as a historic landmark, and decades of disuse and deterioration, has been transformed into a shopping mall, apartments, offices, restaurant, and entertainment complex. The mall only opened a few months ago and more shops will be opening later this year.

On our way to the main entrance, we passed this sign. Of course, I had to take a photo of it as a shoutout to my friends of the Boiler House Poets Collective!


The main part of the old Art Deco-style power station that has been transformed into shops and restaurants is massive. Here is a view as you look down one of the main galleries that once housed multiple turbines:


The amount of detail that went into the restoration is staggering. Here you can see some of the Art Deco elements and part of one of the old control room through the windows.


There are lots of fun elements that play off the power station theme, such as the Control Room B cocktail bar, which features lots of dials and gauges as part of the decor.


I loved seeing the remnant of this safety helmet sign. When we used to go to the hydro stations with Paco, this would have been termed a “hard hat area.” (Yes, I am just that geeky about these things, as anyone who has heard me going on about the industrial roots of the MASS MoCA complex will know.)


There are, of course, many distinctly modern features. For example, one of the old smokestacks now houses an elevator to take people up to the top to look out over London and the Thames. Not being particular fans of heights, although it is glass encased at the top, we did not go up in Lift 109, so called because the top of the stack is 109 meters from the ground, but it’s there for those with the inclination and pounds to do so.

At the moment, there are a number of light installations scattered around the complex. JG was especially taken with these hearts and kept hopping from one to another, while saying “another heart” over and over in an enthusiastic, two-year-old voice. I suppose it’s possible that this was more of a valentine feature than part of the light installations, but it was fun, none the less.


So, Happy Valentine’s Day from London for those celebrating!