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.

Poetry and friends

Yesterday Inge, a dear friend, and I met up, talking, visiting a gallery where her teacher has an exhibition and listening to her explanation that is was all about the translucency of the background which is a very difficult thing to get right. She has been studying with him for a really long time and she really wants to get it right having developed quite a sharp eye.

Sitting in front of a text is a quite a different activity. And I am not sure I do get it right. It is a good thing in dark times to seek the light in poetry, in friends one hasn't seen for a long time. So I look
forward to this afternoon's event when Joris Iven presents his new book. And then there is also another consolation: José Meyvis playing in the teachers performance tonight. The Music school is right across from me and in summer I would just have to open the windows to hear the lovely sounds above the heavy city traffic. So today will be a day of friendship and culture. It might even be a day of healing.

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.

The Sahara Testaments/ Sahara Testamenten by Tade Ipadeola: The proofreading

Proofreading the translation of the Sahara Testaments by Tade Ipadeola is as big an adventure as the translation itself. Frank De Vos was the first to make time for me and to date we have gone through the 17 first poems. Four more hours of hard work will be added this afternoon. Frank questions a lot of things in the text: for instance, in the original are quite a lot scientific terms. In English that is no problem because it stems directly from the Latin root. In Dutch one could keep the Latin word, but since the text of Sahara Testaments has a lot of names of city's, rulers, landscape elements which are typical African, and all the terms derived from Latin would make it hard for a dutch lover of poetry to read the text. So I have been checking on the right Dutch scientific terminology for these words. What do I mean? 'Onomastic totems' is a word or word combination most Dutch speaking readers would have to look up and seen the richness of Tade's language, they probably wouldn't bother to go and look it up, so I looked these kinds of words up for them and then it becomes 'naamkundige totems' and within the context it becomes clear that it is the place where all the names have been brought together so they wouldn't get lost...

An other example is 'constellation'. We have 'constellatie' but also a real dutch word 'gesternte' which would sound more familiar and to boot is a beautiful word. Here you see two different handwritings in and around the text... while proofreading.

Praying for forbidden fruit by Bart Stouten

Bart forever kind and forever the professional organized a book presentation  unlike any other I have seen and especially heard. The Introduction by Luc Coorevits, was clear and to the point and he was right when he said it was a totally different approach to writing this real novel. In this picture Bart seems to be quietly relaxing, kind of knowing that everything would be fine. It was after all the master who was the master of ceremony. Publisher Friday (Vrijdag) brought another good book out. Once home I started reading and it is quite captivating. Working for Klara, the classical radio in Flanders Bart knows the field of music extremely well. He will find new young talent as Wout Goris and Wolfram Ghesquière, a truly intimate performance with Wofram's lyrics  brought to us in a fragile, husky voice by Wout. I preferred his English ballads over the Dutch ones although those  found a way to touch me.

 Here as a surprise for the evening Bart reading from the book and young Vlad Weverbergh on bas sax intoning, improvising along the reading. I had enjoyed Vlad's work a couple of times before, he seemed as playful yet even more mature as a musician. In other words. What a beautiful, rich evening.
Thanks to all  who made it happen.

Between light and dark, exhibition by Lucienne Stassaert and Louisa Chevalier

In Zoersel this exhibition brought quite a crowd. Two very different painters, who share an obsession which is to express what haunts them. I didn't know the work of Louisa Chevalier:

 The series of empty beds, in different positions, in different states of disarray, in different light, made up or with a glaring  absences of who has slept... Painful loneliness which is expressed in small paintings.

Lucienne Stassaert, Poet, prose writer and painter also chose to show her smaller work.

In different colors she paints, the presences and absence of people, the trooping together of people in strangely eerie spaces.
Her paintings are statements, like the bird who perished  after an oilspill. I would call Lucienne a political painter with deep emotions. I love the texture in her work and the variations on a theme. Roger Nupie held a fine introduction, brief, informative and to the point.

Interculturalism made easy and fun thanks to poetry

Fatena Al Ghorra is a star. She writes well and performs well and binds people to her across cultural differences. So she organized a well attended evening in the Stadsmagazijn. People read in Arabic with translation, read in English and in Dutch. Current PEN-Flanders president Joke Van Leeuwen read from her book Four ways of waiting. A lot of people from the cultural scene were present, mainly those working with learning the language and showing newly arrived refugees the way through the long corridors of the institutions, helping to get their papers in order. The poetry was great and so was the music. The sitar player choose popular tunes which all the Arab speaking crowd joining in and singing along.The amount of food was spectacular, three women had cooked all day, thinking about dishes that were vegetarian, nice salads, rice with chicken. All that with the specific spices of North Africa. It all was tasty and cozy. Cake and falafel, home made hummus, it was all there to be tasted.

Her book 'Gods Bedrog' is a bilingual edition: Arabic and Dutch, published by Uitgeverij P.

Luxury

y

 Luxury means something different to different people. To inmates in the Antwerp jail it are poetry books in a language the prisoners can read as City Poet Laureate Stijn Vrancken found out when the he looked into what category of books were most borrowed from the jail's library. And yes, to his astonishment, it was poetry. So Stijn asked his fellow poets, writers and readers to bring their books to the 'Letteren huis' (House of letters) in as many languages as we had. I brought a stack consisting of Dutch, French, Cornish, German, English and Italian. Walking through the city with my the emptied caddy, I came upon a magnificent place, totally in period, tastefully restaurated. I asked whether I might take some pictures... I was, as I often do, wearing black. So the owner of the shop explained I shouldn't wear black, that doing so is cheap. One should only wear silk and real cashmere and color, and pattern... In other words to buy stunning clothing one can wear but few times on social occasions because otherwise people would say: Oh, there she is with that gorgeous dress, again and again... He then showed me some mindbogglingly beautiful dresses, one with a coat lined in the same silk pattern as the dress itself. I said: I obviously could never afford that lifestyle. His answer surprised me: I should find a sponsor... I can't figure out what he really means. Was he seeing Elisa Doolittle whom he could turn into a lady? Was he suggesting I should invest in one such dress and find a lover with good taste and money to burn?

So I have been wondering what my personal luxury would be: A pretty colorful, aging hippie hoody? Or is it rather being in the warm company of interesting people even if they are penniless, impecunious and without funds, had to flee their country for speaking out, for being at risk because of poems they wrote. My luxury is knowing, Tade, Déo and Hazim, and reading their work... Knowing Rollean and his always nonviolent stand for justice and peace.

May they all be safe. To them safety is luxury.

To me luxury is being with four people in a room and each one is from a different continent...

Abandoned by the muse by Bieke Stengos

Having moved in the same circles when young, the setting full of street musicians, painters and poets our lives took different paths. Bieke Stengos emigrated to Canada, studied some more and has a magnificent daughter. What is the same in our lives is that we both write. She just has a book out published by Vocamus Press, her second  book of poetry. Her inspiration is the land, the landscape, the changing season. her poetry is filled with the strange beauty of melancholy. She came back to Belgium for a brief time and thus salon 12b invited her and the other poets present for a reading: Lucienne Stassaerts, who read impressive poems from work in progress: Souvenirs part II, Frank De Vos, Silent Bear, myself.

One poem by Bieke: 

XIV

When I dream you into being
I find myself lost in a fog-invaded forest
Of glimmering naked trees
That rise
from the blue-white snow
cold like your body
Before heat devoured it

I search for a place to breathe freely
But I get lost
In the press of your lips
Against the stretched skin of time
And the memory of you fading
Like a melting negative
Of a city with no sun
Where streets run dead into low walls

When I open my eyes
To a black line of upright trees
I vanish from sight
*
Translation nto Dutch for whom needs it:
 
XIV

Als ik je tot leven droom
Verlies ik mezelf
In een nevel doordesemd bos
Van glimend naakte bomen
Die oprijzen
Uit blauwwitte sneeuw
Koud als je lichaam
Voor de hitte het verslond

Ik zoek een plek om vrij te ademen
Maar verlies mijzelf
In de druk van je lippen
Tegen de gespannen huid van de tijd
En de herinnering aan jou vervaagt
Als een smeltend negatief
Van een stad zonder zon
Waar straten dood lopen op lage muren

Wanneer ik mijn ogen open
Op een zwarte rij loodrechte bomen
Verdwijn ik uit het zicht

 

Night at the opera- Elektra

A friend received from Klara, the classic radio station in Belgium, two VIP seats for Elektra, an opera by Richard Strauss, so I ended up in this bunch of opera going people, starting out with a glass of champaign and a divine chocolate mouse. I like to watch the filing in of people, to listen to the civilized hum of voices. The text, or libretto is based on a theatre text by Hofmannsthal. This seasons theme is 'Onmacht': Powerlessness... Max Reinhardt is the director of this chilling performance. The story: Klytämnestra, Elektra's mother  together with her lover Aighistos killed her husband Agamemnon. Elektra is out for revenge, she becomes crazy, delusional, bitter, scheming and is taunting her mother. Chrysothemis is the other daughter who wants love and to have babies. She wants to escape the logic of revenge choosing for life. Orestes, the brother, is thought dead but he is alive and quite willing to perform the avenging act for Elektra, who by the way had dug up the ax used to kill her father so that in a kind of poetic justice his two murderers are killed by the same weapon. (I always loved Greek mythology, yet the murders, the incest among gods and royal families would sometimes be too much... ) Back to music and art: The role of Elektra is quiet a load, the grandiose Gertrud Eysoldt is always present on the stage. It is a heavy role in this one hour and forty-seven minutes opera. The role of the younger sister Chrysothemis was in excellent hands, a real nice performance, Orestes too was great. All the character parts were excellent as was the choir.

Yet most destabilizing was the decor by Patrick Bannwart and Maria Wolgast. The queen had been offering every day animals to the gods to give her peace and the scene where these animals fall into and on the stage is gruesome. When the blood flows over the walls it is disconcerting. What to me was the message of this opera is that by shedding blood, only more blood is shed in the end. Rache, paying back, avenging, wraak, an eye for an eye... it doesn't work. Stop violence... Make love, not war...

Tags, Graffiti and official art

I am intrigued by what people write on walls, in the case of the two first pictures on the walls of a prison.  The French one calling to put fire to the prison and the Dutch one saying Tear me down. Both with the anarchist A.

 This one I have read every day when walking the dog. I have thought of how to complete it, but recently I have decided it is just right. Without art we would have far less interpretations of art and we would probably be stammering in trying to explain stuff and say ehh... a lot. These three pictures are a kind of guerrilla art. In contrast to the beautiful poem by Paul van Ostayen on the wall of the local hospital. These two last 'interventions' in the urban landscape is in dialog with each other, almost the the ehh... as legitimation for the poem... And then on the long closed wine counter some one wrote: NOT SO SERIOUS...

Good advice...

petroglyphs

A few days ago two America travelers visited me and shared their passion for petroglyphs. They travel each year to different locations in the USA to find the most remote, the most impressive of these old native American messages. Not withstanding their age they go in slot canyons, venture through crevasses, jump down a couple of yards, next to a deep ravine. They photograph each and everyone of them and later at home write an extensive report about what, where, when and how. They have already a huge archive. I share their fascination and have visited  some sites. Yet these people do scientific work and work hard at it. I just enjoy them, try to know what they mean and do protect them if I can. I even bought 10 acres of land because there were some petroglyphs on it. If you click on the picture you'll see some of my favorite petroglyphs in Chloride across from the murals...

Conceptional artist Roland Van den Berghe

 I was surprised when I was contacted by Roland Van den Berghe, friend of Annie Reniers. She had shown him one of my poetry books Traces/Sporen. He found there a poem that intrigued him since it had a clear volta. Having listened to the man and his wild ideas I realize his deep seated pacifism, his true interest in Vietnam and condemning the ugliness which went on there.

The first song I knew

was

    my daddy is over the ocean

and of course

I thought every American

was my father

Later

I was to blame for the Vietnam war

belonging

where I didn’t belong

Now I hear your voice

      You charmer sweet talker

Too much dying had gone on

to settle down

        when the screams and fire

still pierced your dreams

when you freed my mother from her enemy

and waged a sweet war with her

So GI

later

      - so much later now -

your acceptance

has liberated me

     

belonging where I do belong

Roland is a conceptual artist and when he showed and explained some projects he had done to me I developed a new understanding of conceptual art. I realize the amount of thought and thorough preparation it involves. He was intrigued by the moment the poem changes. I also realize that the pacifist message from the poem would resonate in him since he has done many pacifist actions through his work. Roland, to say the least is well read and has traveled a lot and was interested in Vietnam where he left crutches behind in several locations, taking a picture of it every time.

The sky of imagination: sixty letters about art

Last night in the gorgeous Bourla theater in Antwerp there was a book presentation with the Dutch title De hemel van de verbeelding, Zestig brieven over kunst. My daughter Maya is one of the sixty writers. Since we have an Flemish, National and European election next Sunday, at the occasion of the book presentation five specialists and politicians for every party had been invited for a lively discussion. I wasn't too enchanted by the moderator in guiding the conversation.

I have been reading the book and am impressed by the knowledge, the depth of feeling, the wisdom, the humanity of certain letters. from very personal to writing about the structure of the cultural field, the role of administration for certain artists or facilitators of art. The two speakers who impressed me most were Bleri Lleshi pleading for more cultural openness and world music and Peter Swinnen the "bouwmeester" responsible for planning of the Belgium visual of cities. The politicians, well were politicians, yet some were smarter than others in defending culture. I am glad my daughter gave me the opportunity to be present at the event.

The end of mourning

In many cultures there seems to be a period of allowed mourning after a person passes away: It is about six weeks, or some forty some odd days. So yesterday, in the tiny family unit we are, we took down all the condolences cards, put them away in a nice box and just have her smiling picture there for her husband to enjoy. That smile brings him good memories.
My memories are still with her dementia.

my mother

speaks no

more

only remains  

the seemingly  

smallness

of her smile

the leaning over on the chair

mouth wide open

for a bite

she carefully

shoves in

her teeth

just don’t  want to go in

but a person

has to eat

painful of awkward

that head

which can no

more

till suddenly

my daughter

passes her something

and she

“thank you”

says –

 I send thanks for all she gave...

Irish Folk Music

A friend of mine is a musician and she invites me regularly to performances or concerts. I guess she is trying to give me a musical education. I have had a lot of Irish musicians around so I am quite familiar with their tunes and songs, to the point that even now I can sing along in a group when a few traditional songs are performed. These  two musicians where really great, treating us to a variety of old and translational songs. John is on the guitar and Harry on the different flutes and singing acapella or accompanied  by the guitar.


There was a group of students present from the Conservatorium of Borgerhout who had worked whit John and Harry in Dublin.
Even in the afternoon they had been at a workshop. The students gave a brilliant performance of a song they had just learned in the afternoon. Especially the young man on the guitar and the one on the small wooden flute were great. Of course the others were as brilliant as these two on their own instruments: the violin, the accordion, the flute ...  All these youngsters are extremely talented. I love the soothing irish lilt when the songs are introduced. Irish music has the gift of making you feel part of the proceedings, of the group, washing away one's worries. So all left in good spirits, refreshed and renewed.

No internet but a lot of nice things... in Ruhrort

Having been on the road in North Rhine Westphalia I rediscover the world without Internet and the world of hyper security: not one open hot spot, nothing coming in on my phone... Yet a lot is happening there in the region where artists and writers seem to flock. A bunch of "mafia knitters" are trying to soften this rather masculine environment where the rogue TV policeman Schimanski had his job cut out in getting the bad guys. In wool with flowers and gentle colors they soften this place of steel and stone.
And of course water is abundant  at the confluence of Rhine and Ruhr. It is a downtrodden area with cheap rent. The empty shop windows can be rented easily as a showplace for one's work. Of course there are improvised parties, people bringing food and drinks, grill on the roof in the old town. There is a proposal to classify Ruhrort as cultural heritage since many of the houses in 'Grunder style' still exist. Of course all the water most cellars are damp... On Easter Sunday among others these people will perform as poets or exhibit their art. I saw a beautiful cooperation where one hustled a tent ( there was a strong wind, but we were spared the rain), where another brought a small scene to stand on. Some brought enough food to share... I thank all.

Maono-Vision

Maono, Swahili for vision, is an exchange project with Belgian young students and Congolese students and artists. The focus of the work is about visions and images of futures. A road book was developed by future researcher Maya Van Leemput. See/hear a radio interview at: http://vimeo.com/77329367. Seen the images are important in this project Bram Goots photographer is an essential part of the team. Six weeks this years, the first two week to conduct workshops for the African participants and to work with the artists. The Belgian students had their preparation in Brussels Belgium. The results of the last two years of Maono have been real good writings, paintings and two music clips and some really neat road books... The first year this was the clip. Internet in Congo is shaky, thus working isn't alway easy. This year they are there for the first time during the rainy season and thus Congo is really green. Rainy season also means it is 5°C or 41°F warmer than last year and that there are a lot more mosquitoes. Thus malaria pills, anti mosquito sticks and the impregnated net over the bed. When there is relevant news, I'll keep you informed.

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.

Master Muharrem Erbey

Here you see a picture of the happy times of Mater Huharrem Erbey. He is surrounded by his wife and two sons, all looking happy and content together. He is a highly respected human rights lawyer, He compiled the reports on disappearances, cases of torture and extra-judicial killings. He represented individuals on all court levels, including the European Court of Human Rights.

He also is a published author, editor and columnist. In 2007 Erbey

co-edited a publication of Kurdish and Turkish stories by 35 authors. It was distributed for free by Diyarbakir Metropolitan Municipality to the local people. The mayor then was prosecuted for doing so under a law which prohibited the use of the Kurdish alphabet and has in the mean time been abolished. Master Erbey defended the mayor and landed in jail himself.

He is deeply unhappy in jail, longs for freedom and misses his family as much as they miss him. Life in prison is unhealthy, so he also physically is suffering. I am convinced that Muharrem never used violence, nor incited people to use violence.  In his own words:"I have been incarcerated for the last three years… because of the speeches I have made on human rights and the peaceful resolution of the Kurdish issue at parliaments in Britain, Sweden, Belgium and at the UN in Geneva. My speeches and comments never contained words of violence."

Please take action!
There are a number of actions that PEN members can take:
 .Write to your country’s Turkish ambassador (contact details of Turkish embassies worldwide can be found here)
·for European centres: Raise Erbey’s case with your Member of European Parliament (MEP)
·Write letters and postcards of support to Muharrem Erbey in prison. Such correspondence can provide an important psychological lift and has been greatly appreciated by Muharrem Erbey in the past
· Write blog pieces about Muharrem Erbey’s case and share these on social media, particularly around the date of his next trial session on January13, 2014.
·Write articles and letters that will raise awareness of Muharrem Erbey’s case in your local and national media.


Muharrem Erbey’s Prison Address
Muharrem Erbey
Diyarbakır D Tipi Yüksek Güvenlikli Kapalı Ceza İnfaz Kurumu
Diyarbakır
Turkey