Preparations for a grand exhibition...

My daughter Maya is curator for an exhibition in the Mu ka. That is very exciting and quite a lot of work. Some people show moving parts, others simultaneous screens. One of the people participating has been my guest for the last couple of days: Darius from Lithuania. A quiet smart guy, smart like all the participants of this really special event. Her house is filled with beautiful people with interesting minds. One can feel the energy of these young scientist, researchers. They still have a few days: the opening is the 27th... I was glad to be able to help by running errands, buying some materials she needs. Her home became a gathering point for beautiful, interesting people. Like a pod of creative scientists doing what needs to be done to inform, to stun, to make people think. At least they make me think about the many options we have in life. They are using their options well.

Erbarme dich

A new book by Marleen Decree was presented last night February 24th in Gallery The Black Panter.
The whole chapel was packed. I was a bit late and only had a seat on the first row...
The sequence of such presentations is always the same: There is the person who does the introduction: Johan van Cauwennberghe introduced the book Erbarme Dich, as always a smart analysis of the poetry at hand. Also we got some insights about what had inspired Marleen: This time Marleen had fallen in love with the photographs by Mirjam Devriendt of the sculptures by Hilde De Bruyckere. So she wrote a series of poems inspired by these photographs. As always there was wonderful music on a huge but sensitive Theorbe... performed by Floris De Rycker. The people showed up... the room was filled by her admirors and friends. Marleen read a few of her poems. I was a bit sick, so I skipped the fun early. Also not to pass on my bad cough. Her publisher Leo Peeraer gave the first copies to Marleen and Floris and Adriaan.

I gave her my texts of Blaise Cendrars and am curious as to what she will be doing with it... since they are leaving for their stay in France...

Eaves dropping in a local café while having lunch with Lucy

I live in Antwerp, near or even in part of the Jewish quarter. I thought I give this post a funny title because what I overheard was everything but funny. Two holocaust survivors spoke about their life and what they had done with the experience. The old lady kept a diary most of her life and she became a sculptor. The old man on the other hand plays the violin and lectures all over the world about what the holocaust meant and means, without forgetting the genocides of today. The dystopian wars in Europe of the last century still carry over the consequences for whom lived through that ordeal.

The old lady writes in her diary every morning and every evening and she wonders why she does it, because her writing may never be read, wondering whether writing makes sence. So writing diaries/or blogs myself I do believe that it is important to try and make sense of the world, to keep track of feeling and thoughts day after day, making sense of our personal issues as a rite of passage in this life.

Thus I note the arrival of Hanging Loose Press copies and look proudly at the stack of wonderful books and the poems, beauty and thoughts they contain,while I am shy, kind of self-conscious, about sending some of my poetry books to Hanging Loose Press.

Yet all of you who write, just go on doing what you do. You never know what words will sink into a person's soul and bring understanding, solace and courage to live a full life doing what one has to do.

First of May - memories

After a wonderful birthday the day before, I - as I do every year - went to town to walk with the others in the first of May Parade. One is sure to meet friends one hasn't seen in a year, also family or ex-family and everything, every one is in good spirits, catching up on the events of the year that has passed again. Where did it go?

After the parade I went home with Doggy Dog who sported a red balloon on her collar. On the way back home a granddad and a little girl admired my dog and the red balloon. So I untied the balloon and the granddad tied it to her arm... So it all made for a nice day. I have marched I guess every year since we managed to help to dispose of Pinochet by helping the resistance in Chili. As a consequence, the kids of my daughter's generation never had eaten fruit from Chile nor from South Africa.

On a mission for work in South Africa, the cell mate next to Mandela's cell had provided a lunch packet for our delegation. When I opened it I found also a cape Apple. I smiled and told the man my daughter had never eaten fruit from Chile nor South Africa. He replied: It really helped us knowing that people all over the world boycotted the apartheid's fruit...

Antwerp as diamond city

Antwerp is a diamond city and that means that we have a rather large Indian population, the majority of which lives near the more leafy areas around town and a huge Jewish community living in town, right there where I live too.

The Jewish community celebrates their Pesach or Easter between April 22 and April 20. This celebration entails a more than thorough spring cleaning before the passover. The house has to be thoroughly cleaned so that all that is dirty, or contains yeast or that can ferment has to be thrown out of the house. The city of Antwerp organises an extra household-garbage collection in the neighbourhood. I am glad that inclusiveness is working this way. Yet also other communities, like the Moroccan community have their own customs like following the Ramadan. This means no eating during the day, only after sunset and before sunrise one can eat. Mutton with couscous is one of their delicious dishes. Yet the sheep have to be slaughtered in a ritual way, slitting their throat. Often this leads to controversy, or even protests. People feel that electrocuting the sheep is more humane...  Strange concept.

A Sherman Alexie translation in Dutch has a presentation date

Sherman Alexie is a very special poet. He covers a wide range of forms. From his four first poetry books, all published by Bob Hershon's Hanging Loose Press, I made choice while reading them, translating one, then another one... When Face came out I was stunned... Fibonacci poems, poems with just one end rhyme ... I never found a solution for those technical problems. The choice out of the four first books however will be published in English and in Dutch by Leo Peeraer from Uitgeverij P. October 2nd will be the presentation in the "Black Panter Gallery" in Antwerp at the same time as the presentation of Lucienne Stasssaerts translation of André Chedid. We will interview and introduce each other.

Occupied city

Police patrol vans on both sides of the street, the military in the streets with para-commando's in full gear patrolling the neighborhood ... isn't quite something that makes me feel safe. Granted, I live at the edge of the Jewish quarter, cross it regularly walking the dog, going to the supermarket... I can't show you the pictures: it isn't even allowed to take a picture... It would be a bit intimidating if one would try. I think violence begets violence. Non-violence is the only way to live in a civilized society. Talking to all kinds of people and trying to understand the other is always a good start. Understanding the needs of an other human being makes one feel their anguish. Kindness doesn't kill. I know these words are poor in contrast to the beauty and respect I would want to share. Hate begins with exclusion, by being uncaring, unthinking of the plight of 'others'. We are all others, different and have the right to be so.
We would loose such beauty, such song, such poetry, such alternative ways of looking at the world, if we don't strive for inclusiveness.
The New years reception of the Flemish Fund for Letters was inclusive: Three writers who all three spoke a different local version of Arab talked and laughed and gave us great poetry and prose. One musician gave us foreign sounds and longings. This choice was just the right thing at the right time...
keeping the flame of hope and togetherness burning.

We are all Charlie in the silent vigil in Antwerp

 The venue for the vigil had been chosen well, in the center of town, in from of a wall with a huge cartoon. It seemed appropriate to honor the cartoonists from Charlie Hebdo in such a location A few hundred people showed up. Holding their pen or pencil, a candle, a  in cartoon... There was solemn quietness and in the sadness also joy at seeing friends one hadn't seen for a long time, knowing they belong to 'one's tribe'. Writers, members of PEN-Flanders were present and our president was interviewed. She spoke out eloquently about free speech being a fundamental element of democracy.

 A guest from Poland was there, poets en route to the poetry café where they had performance after the vigil. It was a solemn gathering, yet one could feel a quiet determination not to succumb to fear. At the end of the gathering we left the candles in two safe places, letting the light shine in the darkness of a cold and wed winter's night. Joan Baez sang it right so long ago:

We are not afraid!

We shall overcome... one day...

The movie 'Coming home'

Last night with a friend, in my festively lit town, we enjoyed a nice sashimi dinner: excellent raw fish, healthy and delicious. After green tea ice cream and white sesame ice cream, we saw in my preferred movie theater 'Cartoons' the movie Coming home. The story about love, guilt and grace is set in China. The father was a dissident and ended up for 30 years in jail. The daughter grew up under the so called "Cultural Revolution". She is a great and ambitious dancer and will do anything to secure the lead role, even betraying her father. The mother is a professor, loving and missing her husband. Finally a date is set for his return and then the movie turns into the sadness of dementia. She doesn't recognize her husband and for the betrayal by her daughter, she has chased her off. The husband, an intelligent, kind and compassionate man, comes up with ways to try and make his wife recognize him, which happens just one fleeting moment. He reads the letters he wrote but could send from jail to her... So he becomes the 'letter reader', he tunes the piano and he is the piano tuner. The daughter confesses it was her who betrayed him... He said I knew. It is all right... He knew what the cultural revolution did to people. He finally writes a letter asking the mother to let her daughter stay with her again... so that she can take care of her. The father becomes an accepted presence in whatever role it is that day. It is a beautiful and sad movie. I shed a few tears for my mother who passed away in February with dementia.

So with the beauty and understanding coming from art, I try to live my life to the fullest. I wish you all a beautiful end of year season.... May it be Hanukkah, Christmas, or a family fest... May there be peace, food, health and beauty for all.

Mozert: an homage to gerard Mortier

Gerard Mortier was the Belgian opera innovator. He passed away and the concert was to pay homage to his life and work.

The first violin and the director were great, very expressive. The choir had wonderful voices. I also admired  Anne Cambier: with a reach of two octaves. The technique she has in singing is exceptional. People totally enjoyed the performances of the young orchestra and of the more seasoned voices. It was a great evening with neighbors and friends and lovers of music.

Johan de Boose interviews Lucienne Stassaert

 This post is a little late, almost a week after the facts. As an interviewer of writers Johan de Boose is just great. He researches thoroughly and digs up interesting information. I remember it happened when he interviewed Marleen De Crée and now again with the interview with Lucienne Stassaert. I have known both authors for a very long time and yet he managed to surprise me. He reads thoroughly, and asks sometimes difficult questions. Of course the bio is dealt with: Lucienne started out as a musician, even participated in the Queen Elizabeth Competition. Yet it was her fathers dream, not her dream. She gave concerts till in the late sixties and then gave her piano to her daughter who is a singer accompanying herself on the piano. Lucienne now paints and writes prose, wrote radio plays, she translates and writes mainly poetry. 

As Dickinson would say:

I dwell in Possibility -                                                                                  
A fairer house than Prose -

Currently she is working on her memories...

In Lucienne a poem will usually come about because of a word she found, a word which opens the possibility of saying something new, or in a new way. Very often after the first poem a second poem will come and it might even turn into a cycle of poems, or even a whole book. She was part and parcel of several literary movements like Labris, yet she distanced herself from those, being too much of a rebel, of an individualist. With age comes more and more introspection and also loss. A poem in my translation from her last book: Nabloei 

I'll quarantine death
now the bleakness of a new season
robs the light of its overtones
when in the night a blackened child
closes off the crossroads where the past thrives.

So life, reckless as an endangered spring,
can shoot up in a wild bush
in all nerve knots
I give free passage to the word
raging in seas a self-lighting sea.

Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui: Venn

Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui will be awarded the title of Maestro Honoris Causa by the "Stichting Conservatorium Antwerp. The production Venn which some of us saw thanks to the vice president of said foundation just blew me away. It was moving, funny, spectacular, intimate, beyond beautiful, and splendidly danced by the young group of dancers. The music and voices were of the same quality. The harp and the percussion, the violin, alt-violin and cello where so right for the sublime choreography of Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui. The sober light effects and stage supported in every way the sometimes exuberant, sometimes overwhelming, sometimes funny or intimate scenes. I also fell for the silent and spoken parts where the gesture was before words came about. No pictures of this public try out,  yet the images I saw I won't forget. If you have a chance, go to one of the performances. You'll come out fulfilled and more complete. The dance dealt with a new interpretation of different themes from Foi, Origine and Orbo Novo. The energy on the scene is wonderful and gives so much to the audience that we can deal with the onset of winter. Iris Bouche has woven all the elements together in a grand performance of all.

Antwerp Jews II

Someone send a comment on  the old post with etchings of Antwerp Jews. And yes the assumption is right. It is one of four. And yes in January 1969 Tony and his family moved back from Antwerp to Los Angeles. I remember a name Jim Bradshaw. He might have been the gallery owner where the etching was bought. If ever the person who send the comment would like to see the other etchings, let me know. Some are like portraits. Tony was fascinated by the way they dressed, the curls, the hats, the long black coats and the little boys looking exactly the same as their grandfathers. He had live in the Lange Herentalse straat in Antwerp. That is near the City Park (Stadspark) and right in the Jewish section.  I now live at the edge of it and see the same images as on the etchings. The only color is when a little girl, dressed as precious princess walks along with her parents.

Thank you for your comment.

contact: fourthandplum(@)hotmamil.com

Red Star Line the silent movie 'dance' - 600 extras

The Red Star Line is one of these mythical lines: At least two million people used it to emigrate to the USA.  My mother after World War II was one of them. A silent movie Dance is being made by Hans Op De Beeck for the Red Star Line Museum. 500 extras were needed for scenes evoking the mass exodus. 600 showed up for the afternoon takes on a bitterly cold day. Several scenes were shot in a sober, serene even intimate way. No 'acting' but slow movements en masse, neutral face, a range of simple costumes in tints of tans, grays, and black accents. Of course such a day entails a lot of waiting among total strangers, sharing stories and blankets to keep warm. I think of Gershwin waiting in line, showering before getting on the boat, if one was impecunious and without funds one slept in communal spaces, going through immigration on Ellis Island... Maybe the war brides followed a different scenario. Since most were married before leaving for the USA they had all the necessary papers and it might have been less intimidating. Although leaving behind their mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters will not have been easy for most. I am sure most of these brides dreamed of 'American Kitchens' with fridges and washing machines, the good life. Yet American dreams often turned into American nightmares. The times in the late forties were hard, jobs and housing were scarce in the USA. Ten people living in a small clapboard house was more often the rule than the exception. Many people came to the set because of their family immigration background other were hobby-extras having participated in between 10 to 20 projects. Of course all of us have had to say goodbye to people, so a vague melancholy settled in my thoughts no longer thinking of my mother but thinking about my own comings and goings.

Sequenza: afterthoughts

With a book title like Sequenza it was to be expected that the presentation would equal a musical orgy for the crowd of lovers of Marleen de Crée's poetry. Of course we had the symbolic empty chair for Liu Xiaobo, Nobel laureate for Literature still in a Chinese jail. Such a symbolic gesture is something we try to do for different writers when they are in prison for using their freedom of expression. The surprise for me was Vlad Weverbergh in the moving, masterly way he performed Sequenza IXa by Berio. Not easy music, but listening made easy by the clarinetist. Marleen and I read her formidable poetry: she in Dutch and I in English. Frank De Vos, our den Hopsack troubadour, offered a moving new song: Waving at 12b, conceived in the room his mother was slowly leaving this world in. The friends and fans of Marleen were a great audience, listened very attentively and afterwards even spoke about the differences between languages, loyalty to the original, rhythms... And then the party started and a good time was had by all. Yesterday the first poem of the book, today the last in both languages:

over de bruggen schuift
de schaduw voor ons uit.
wij kunnen hem niet horen.
hij snijdt tot op het been.
we slaan de armen om het kind.
het hinkelt in de sterren
als waren wij nog niet geboren.
we leggen onze stemmen neer
voor het licht de ogen sluit.
onder de bruggen stroomt het lied,
slingert het in zachte plooien,
zingt, huivert en fluistert weer
in schaduwen die ons niet
toebehoren. daar zijn we samen
daar gingen we heen.
* 

over  the bridges glides

the shadow before us.

we cannot hear it.

it cuts to the bone.

we put our arms around the child.

it plays hopscotch in the stars

as if we hadn’t been born yet.

we lay down our voices

before the light closes the eyes.

under bridges flows the song,

meanders in soft folds,

sings, shivers and whispers again

in shadows which don’t belong

to us. there we are together

that is where we were going.

Sequenza - Marleen de Crée

Marleen de Crée needs no introduction in Belgium. She is one of our well known poets and has quite an oeuvre to her name. Next Friday, March 15, in den Hopsack in Antwerp her bilingual book Sequenza will be presented. It will be an interesting and varied evening. Expect video poems, reading in two languages: the Dutch original and the English translation. There will be music. The title of this book of poetry refers to composer Luciano Berio and for those who don't know technically what a Sequenza is, Vlad Weverbergh will perform that evening Sequenza IXa on the clarinet. Frank De Vos will be the troubadour with two songs and will read one poem in Dutch. Intro by Annmarie Sauer.

The presentation starts at 8.30 in Den Hopsack is in the old part of town: Grote Pieter Pot straat 24, Antwerp 2000.
It will be a worthwhile, even a memorable evening.

Sequenza ISBN 9783842341449
world internet books

  

Antifascist reflections I

Seeing last night a TV item about the Flemish National Sing-along in Antwerp I felt my stomach tighten. I saw the usual suspects from nva and it's unloved mayor sitting brotherly side by side with the Vlaams Belang (former Flemish Block. Looking at the images I saw faces of people I have spoken with and realized how insidious nationalism can be. Good five-thousand people opened thousandfold their throat in unison. If it were mere folklore, I might not feel so uncomfortable with it. Yet this singing is a political signal:" Flemish independence is no luxury" What? It foolishness, a luxury we cannot afford. In Kenya today there are elections and there too are two ethnic, linguistic groups. Last elections 1300 people died in the uproar. In Belgium it are not the people who die, but the state which is slaughtered. After the last general elections, you'll remember over 555 day's of negotiations were needed to find a livable compromise. If however Flanders would be independent, we would have an outbreak of pestilent nationalism. The flags and banner-waving, the strange uniforms reminiscent of a certain WWII faction, I saw it all on TV.

What about working together, being an open society, inclusive and working for peace and a clean environment having friends who speak other languages, even languages one doesn't understand, broadens the mind. Antwerp is great city, being taken down by a faction of the Flemish ruling class, but with these people I can only imagine dystopian futures...

Schubert for docters without borders

Christopher Stokes, the General Director of Doctors without Borders - an international and independent medical and humanitarian organization - held a moving introduction about their work in Syria. They help people in life threatening situations in case of armed conflicts, epidemics or natural disasters. They are neutral and have no ties to political, economic or governmental authorities. 89 % of their funds comes from private donors. This was the third edition of a fund raiser organized by Les Lux. They invited Lucas Blondeel on the piano, German Judith Ermert on the cello and bas-bariton Werner Van Mechelen. Songs, a sonata, impromptus on the piano, all that was offered in the gorgeous baroque Amuz church with excellent acoustics. I must compliment the organizers Aly Talen, Inez Vanoverschelde and Frank De Vos with a job well done. German romantic music with lyrics by Mayerhofen and Goethe was soothing to the soul and might bring hope and help to many people in need.

The first hospitals Doctors without Borders build for the Syrian refugees was in a  cave, a farmhouse and near the Turkish border where by then five refugee camps had sprung up. By now 70.000 people have died, hospitals are created in cellars and every one needing medical assistance is helped. It was a beautiful evening and drinking a glass of champaign for a good cause was a novel way of advocacy to me.

The Gierik reading in den Hopsack

Eight poets had been announced. One however, René Hooybergs had caught a nasty virus and couldn't make it. He was aptly interpreted by Tin Vankerkom, who memorized His and her texts and then performs them with a very expressive rendering. Yet in a way there were more than eight voices to be heard. One poet writes under three heteronyms, which is kind of being some one else, like Pessoa, the great Portuguese poet did. In this way a reading by Sven Peeters can become a reading by three or four different voices, bringing the presence of Balkan poets, their longing for a far away friend, nightly forages through cafés and bars. Ahh, the schizophrenia of belonging to different  parts of the world. Sven Cooremans read intimate poetry. I didn't know this poet. His detailed language shifts and thus reaches out to you, makes you pay attention since he is telling you something important you need to know. Vera Alexander Beerten's work I have known and appreciated since a long time. She read 'Kindertotenlieder', a cycle dealing with the death of 35 children, when crossing a river on a raft which capsized while trying to go to the other side of the village. Moving. Richard Foqué, with sonorous voice read 'landscapes' and very structured poems, brought peace and rest. The most important guest  was Guy Commerman, one of the two founding fathers of Gierik. I love his quiet way, his sense of relativity, his gentle humor and yes his poetry. he opened and drew us all into the evening. The MC of the evening was Frank De Vos, introducing every poet in the superlatives, they deserve, reading the first poem of the book the poets were reading from. Form the bilingual Traces/Sporen I read a poem which had some music in it since that was the official theme.

Like the bird

singing till the morn

of her last day

whistling waveringly

softer than a male

but with a courage of her own

was killed

by others

because her song

disturbed

so will I sing

and if sometime somewhere

in a Laundromat

someone speaks about this singing

like she about Garcia Lorca spoke

and danced to his bloody word

then my song

is heard.

Slide show of the evening by Fred Schywek
The Gierik reading brought fun memories of the redaction meetings at my place, each  one involving a bottle of Whiskey (mainly drunk by Dirk Claus) and a bottle of Genever and also a home cooked meal. 

Poetry day

Tomorrow it is poetry day and all over The Netherlands and Flanders a myriad of poetry readings and performances have been scheduled. One can however see that there is the official part of literature with the established names like Anna Enquist who writes this year's poetry day present 'Een kooi van klank' A cage of sound, a title referring to the chosen theme: music.  On the other hand there are the multifaceted poets like performance poets, who are loud and forceful and do perform well and the more intimate poets who all will be reading and sharing their thoughts and feelings. The smaller readings are in brown cafés, more informal and certainly closer to the audience. This however says nothing about the quality of the poets performing for instance in Den Hopsack. They chose to ask eight poets who published in the idiosyncratic literary magazine 'Gierik/Nieuw Vlaams Tijdschrift': Vera Alexander Beerten; Guy Commerman (co-founder of the magazine); Sven Cooremans; Richard Foqué; René Hooyberghs; Sven Peeters; Annmarie Sauer and Tin Vankerkom. I do appreciate the poetry of all of them and do look forward to reading with and listening to my colleagues. Den Hopsack, 8 15 PM. Hope to see you there.