A Possible Explanation – The Poetry of Peggy Sapphire

Northern Vermont’s Peggy Sapphire wears many hats – mother, wife, educator, counselor, and editor. And, she’s a fine wordsmith, as well. A long time member of the International Women’s Writing Guild, she has published a new book of her collected poems entitled “ A Possible Explanation.” Her vivid and descriptive poetry is steeped in loss, pain, and, occasionally, redemption. “Vermont Guardian” caught up with her for an interview about the power of words in a society full of hurt and hope.

Q. This is your first book of poetry. Why did you decide to put together “A Possible Explanation”?

A. These particular poems have been written over a period of about ten years, none of them written with a thought to how they might someday be arranged to form a book length manuscript. So, I had no conscious intention, as each was written, that I was writing “a book”…though of course having a book of my work published was definitely a hope. Could there be that coherence, could each be received as parts of a whole? That was the challenge. And I found, by re-visiting these pieces, selecting and omitting, the threads of family history, memories of childhood. Poetry had become my way of telling my stories, but I would like it to be known that these are not “photographs” of my life. I don’t claim these are all borne of my life, but they are certainly drawn from it.

Q. Speak about the title: “A Possible Explanation.” Where did this come from?

A. I was giving a poetry workshop some years ago, and a young man shared the fact that his father, a shoemaker, had abandoned his family, that he’d never seen him again. I began with the thought of where those hand-made shoes had taken him, and went from there. There’s no way to know, of course, what the real answers are, but in imagining the possibilities, I found I was imagining my own. And yes, my mother was my mistress of forgiveness, but as always when I write, I do not know where I’ll go and where it will end. The last line happens, and I know it when it appears.

Q. You quote Jack Sapphire at book’s beginning, who notes “suffering is good for you.” Say more about this epigraph, as it relates to your work.

A. My father, Jack Sapphire, would say that to me as I was growing up…during the tough McCarthy years, years of bad health and bad breaks. It was his mantra for himself, and he offered it to me long before I accepted the truth of it. But, I finally have taken it as my own. There’s no living without suffering, and if I’m wise enough, I’ll learn from it, and in that way it is good, has meaning, teaches me.

Q. Your work is clearly drawn from the everyday trials and tribulations of ordinary people. How does inspiration strike in the midst of suffering?

A. There are times when the suffering is so great and I find writing offers me my only comfort, or release. A word or phrase will stay with me, or I’ll have written it down somewhere and come back to it when I’m ready…I begin without knowing where I’ll go. That’s my greatest freedom, the not knowing. I seem to find what I need when I need it.

Q. The most powerful poem in your collection for me was “Quarry Man.” Tell me about this poem.

A. Thank you…this one is obviously pretty recent. In fact I’d heard an interview on public radio with a Barre granite worker, and his straightforward unapologetic, unpretentious perspective moved me. I thought about him, without writing anything for quite a while…weeks maybe. And he kept coming back very clearly. Yes, he’d taught me things about granite engraving, about the search for ‘perfect’ (and its irony of “…no black or brown…”) but more than that he took me to a moment I couldn’t have known otherwise, the one where a widow or a mother, a child or a sweetheart has only the granite to hold onto as they weep, the granite over which so many worked it to its final grace.

Q. What about “Wife As Passenger”?

A. Well, you ask well. This one is obviously a story of unconsummated love and its torment, and the visceral loneliness of a woman whose marriage to the wrong man becomes obsessive, maybe verges on the insanity of pure despair. Perhaps a wife finds herself in that passenger seat, about as helpless a place as one can be. There’s only one place where she’s free, and that’s in her mind.

Q. What are you writing about right now?

A. I’m editing the oral histories, massive and dictated to me by each of my parents in the years before their deaths. I’ve been our family’s curator, and these have been waiting. I have never attempted a book-length manuscript of prose, but this might be the one. I’d like to weave them together, these very separate, very different histories. I am clearly drawn to personal history, the one no one else can tell but me. You.

Borat! Cultural Learnings of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation Of Kazakhstan

Irrepressible satirist and television comedian Sacha Baron Cohen makes the jump to the silver screen in his first filmic debut, and what a debut it is. The premise of “Borat!” (see the full title above) finds Cohen playing an overly affable, ignorantly fun-loving, and completely uninhibited Kazakhstani tourist – Borat Sagdiyev - sent to the USA, “the greatest country in the world,” to learn cultural lessons for his home nation of Kazakhstan. He and his assistant decide to make a documentary film about their travel experiences, allowing American theater-goers to reap the wisdom gleaned (such as it is) from his experiences.

Within minutes of the film’s opening, Borat travels from his small and impoverished Kazakhstani town to the Big Apple. When he is not busy offending and amusing real-life Americans with his infantile humor – including the anti-Semitic, racist, phallic, and potty varieties - Borat falls in lust with “Baywatch’s” C.J. Parker (Pamela Anderson), tele-visually resplendent in her “red water panties.” After receiving word that his cranky Kazakhstani wife has died after threatening to “snap off his cock” if he cheats on her, Borat celebrates by deciding to undertake a cross-country journey to California to seek out the bodacious C.J. Along the way, our Old World protagonist participates in a Gay Pride parade (breaking his anus, he says, in the process), interviews presidential candidate and “chocolate face” Alan Keyes, and visits a western rodeo inhabited by conservative republicans of the rural/rodeo variety, along with having other assorted sundry experiences.

The (occasional) brilliance of this film is found in the way in which Cohen, under cover in satirical disguise as Borat, manages to bring to the surface Americans’ various faux pas and foibles as he travels across the country. We, the audience, laugh and squirm uncomfortably, and wonder just how far Cohen can push his unsuspecting participants to reveal their own flaws and shortcomings. At the same time, Cohen’s Borat adopts prejudices of his own, channeling his mock anti-Semitism and pro-U.S. sentiment into grist for his narrative mill. When he attends a southern rodeo, for example, and shouts out his hope that “George Bush will drink the blood of every Iraqi man, woman, and child,” his audience looks a bit confused, and then boos him down when he sings the Kazakhstani (?) anthem to the tune of the American version. In another moment, Borat and his obese producer mix it up in a hotel room brawl – completely naked – that spills over into the rest of the establishment. The scene, needless to say, is not easy to watch.

There are strange moments of real poignancy, too, that surface at the oddest times throughout the film. See Borat, on a night out at the “Brandin’ Iron” with an overweight prostitute, awkwardly consummate their time together at the front door of her little home with a sweet sort of early morning conversation. And Borat’s conversation with three drunken white college students in a RV, while disturbing, also reveals something about how lost we may be as a society.

From a narrative point of view, Cohen’s “Borat” raises other dilemmas, too. Is posing as someone one is not simply to make fun (and make a profit) off of others all that hip? What to do about the Romanian villagers Cohen uses in his film to portray Kazakhis, villagers who actually DO live lives of near-abject poverty, and are now offended that Cohen pokes crude fun of their authentic lives in his attempts to stereotype and satirize? Sure, they got paid $6 a day, but have you no decency, Sacha?

Cohen’s defenders may argue that, in his own inimitable way, the satirist holds a mirror up to American (and global) culture and finds it wonderfully and disturbingly messy, even as he rudely mocks the very people he is attempting, perhaps, to understand.

Perhaps.

Ultimately, I suppose, it is up to “Borat’s” audience to decide for themselves.

Historian, musician, and media educator Rob Williams lives in Vermont’s Mad River Valley. Read, listen and watch at www.robwilliamsmedia.com.

Happy Feet: A 7 Year Old Takes A Penguin’s Pulse

I interviewed my 7 year old daughter Anneka about her reactions to seeing the new movie “Happy Feet.” Here are her thoughts.

Q. What is this movie about?

A. This movie is about a penguin named “Mumble” who grows up and helps the penguins find out what’s happening to the fish in the ocean. “Mumble” is a penguin who can’t sing, so everyone else laughs at him. “Mumble” grows up and all the other penguins think he is a weird penguin because most penguins just walk with their feet, but “Mumble” tap dances. The movie is called “Happy Feet” because it is about “Mumble” and he has “happy feet.”

Q. Are there any other main characters in the movie?

A. Yes. Norma Jean is Mumble’s mom, and she doesn’t think anything is wrong with Mumble. His dad’s name is Memphis, and he dropped Mumble’s egg, and now he feels guilty. Gloria is Mumble’s friend, and when Mumble goes to school, and goes to music lessons, everyone laughs ‘cause he can’t sing, and Gloria tells everyone to be quiet. And so, by the end of the movie, they’re very good friends.

Q. Are there any funny scenes in the movie?

A. Yeah. The elephant seals were funny.

Q. Why?

A. Because an elephant seal sneezes and squirts snot on the penguins.

Q. Are there any scary scenes in the movie?

A. Yeah. Mumble gets chased by a seal. That was scary because the seal kept talking to him, and usually seals don’t talk to penguins, and the seal had a low scary voice.

Another scary part, well, this was a funny part because these big killer whales were playing toss with penguins.

And then in another half of the story, four penguins – I don’t know their names but they had really funny hairdos – there was one who was really funny. He always sung and they were very good friends with Mumble, too. They thought that Mumble was the coolest because Mumble could dance. They called Mumble funny names like “Fluffy Boy” and “Tall Guy.” They also said: “You got the moooves!”

Q. Are there any suggestions you have to make this movie better?

A. Yes. They needed more action. It was usually the same parts. They also skipped a lot of parts, like, when Mumble got captured and got put in the zoo. And then, in the next scene, he ended up back on the ice, but they didn’t tell us how he got back on the ice. They also didn’t tell us how they figured out how to get the fish back to the ice.

Q. Would little kids like four-year-olds like this movie?

A. No. Because it was scary, and it was almost two hours, so they would probably get restless and make noise.

Q. Did you see any previews before “Happy Feet” came on?

A. Yes. We saw three or four. “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” one Christmas one that is coming out in 2007, and I don’t remember the third one.

Q. Was the “Harry Potter” preview scary?

A. Yes. It was very very fast.

Traditional Thanksgiving Throw Down – “Crooked Still” Comes To the Chandler

It is difficult to finger, at first listen, what it is about the music of “Crooked Still” that captivates. Is it Aoife O’Donovan’s waif-like yet blues-inflected vocal prowess? Or perhaps it’s the tasty banjo work of Gregory Liszt, who toured with Bruce Springsteen during last spring’s “Seeger Sessions.” Wait, you say, cocking an ear – that’s a cello in the mix – powered by Rushad Eggleston, and, underneath it, a double bass, thumped by Corey DiMario. Or perhaps it is the blending of all four parts, in a way that infuses traditional Americana music with a unique sound that is a bit, well, crooked, in the most engaging and energetic of ways.

We caught up with “Crooked Still” band member Corey DiMario for an interview about making music their way.

Q. Tell us about how “Crooked Still” came to be formed.

A. Aoife and I became friends while students at the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston. At the same time Greg was finishing his PHD at MIT and Rushad was at the Berklee College of Music. We were all part of the acoustic music scene in Boston and began playing together. Aoife was asked to put an ensemble together for an informal recital at NEC and we were the band. And the rest, as some say, is history.

Q. There are a whole pile of Americana bands playing the circuit right now. What are some ingredients that make Crooked Still’s style and sound unique, in your mind?

A. The first thing that people notice, I think, is our odd instrumentation. Cello, double-bass, banjo, and female vocals are not the typical lineup for a string band. While this instrumentation wasn’t something was preconceived or thought about ahead of time, it has defined our sound. When you don’t have typical instruments like rhythm guitar or fiddle or mandolin, you have to find ways to compensate and still make the ensemble sound full and big. I also think that we have a unique way of treating the repertoire. A lot of bands modernize old material by adding rock and roll elements such as drums or electric bass to the mix. We don’t do that. Instead we try to add that energy, but with our stripped down sound.

Q. In what ways does your live performance as “Crooked Still” differ from your studio work?

A. I think that there is a visual aspect to our live performances that can’t be really captured on a CD. In terms of the music itself, I think that our approach in the studio is really to capture our live sound and energy as best as possible.

Q. You feature tunes by Dylan, Bill Monroe, and Robert Johnson on your debut project, plus a whole heap of traditional numbers. How does the band go about choosing what tunes to cover?

A. We all have a love for traditional music. If one of us feels that there is a song that would work, we suggest it and give it a try. It’s a fairly organic process. In the case of the non-traditional stuff, we try to find songs that fit our vibe. Bob Dylan, Bill Monroe and Robert Johnson all draw heavily on traditional music so their songs lend themselves to our approach. Arranging the songs is similarly natural. Our arrangements come about collectively.

Q. What’s been the most rewarding and most frustrating thing about performing together as a band thus far?

A. Well, I can’t speak for the entire band, but for me it’s been rewarding to see a project that started as a part of a larger scene and wasn’t overly thought out or preconceived, take on a life of it’s own. It’s really cool that it’s always just been the four of us and we’ve been able to take it and develop it and simply let it be. A lot of great bands don’t get that opportunity.

You can listen for yourself this coming Thanksgiving Sunday, when Crooked Still comes to Randolph’s Chandler theater for a 7:00 p.m. show. And believe me when I tell you that the thirty minute drive over Roxbury Mountain road and down route 2 is well worth your time. I hope to see you there.

Listen at www.crookedstill.com

For tickets and more information, visit www.chandler-arts.org
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Historian, musician, and media educator Rob Williams lives in Vermont’s Mad River Valley. Read, listen and watch at www.robwilliamsmedia.com.

An “Essentials” Evening Of Acoustic Music:
Ellis Paul with opener Antje Dovekot

The Valley Players Showcase has assembled an acoustic barnburner for Saturday night, November 18, when local musician and promoter Bruce Jones brings acoustic storytelling phenomenon Ellis Paul and opener Antje Dovekot to the Mad River Valley for an evening of “essential” acoustic music.

As a fellow New Englander and songsmith, I’ve known Ellis Paul’s music for more than ten years. While I was playing the open mics in greater Boston during the mid-1990s, neighbor Ellis was beginning to establish himself as one of the country’s finest new singer/songwriters, helped along by a deal with folk label Rounder Records and a burgeoning audience of loyal listeners, myself included. His work has been heard worldwide, including a wonderfully upbeat little number called “The World Ain’t Slowing Down” in the soundtrack for Renee Zellweger and Jim Carrey’s otherwise forgettable film “Me, Myself, and Irene.”

Now, more than a decade later, Ellis has released a wonderful two-disc retrospective of his work simply called “Essentials.” For Ellis newbies, this latest project is a fine introduction to Mr. Paul’s multi-layered approach to song-writing and performing. The collection showcases some of his classic tunes – songs such as the hauntingly beautiful “Conversation With A Ghost” (with Patti Griffin singing gorgeous back-up vocals) and ”3,000 Miles,” a rollicking ode to American wanderlust and life on the road featuring a character named Robert Wilson from Wisconsin. And, true to form for any retrospective worth its musical salt, the CD features some re-recordings and a few new tunes, as well.

A native of northern Maine, the soft-spoken performer speaks of his career (so far) with a thoughtfully assured sense of satisfaction about his accomplishments to date, as well as an understanding of his place as a tenacious songwriter within a larger music industry that too often turns talent into spectacle.

“I could certainly have had a bigger career,” explains Paul, “with some little miracles taking place, or an infusion of corporate sponsorship. But I knew when I started out that I shouldn’t wait on those things or pursue them in a way other than what I have been doing: writing songs and hitting the road.”

“I have had plenty of little breaks in my career, and I have had a lot of shows close to 2,500 in 15 years,” Ellis notes. “I like the little clubs and theaters. I wouldn’t mind having a song that everyone knows, but I don’t want to become a cartoon character to make it happen. I look at the Top 20 and I see a lot of posing. I see a lot of marketing. I see marketing before I see art in the song, or in the singer.”

Opening the evening is ex-Windham County singer-songwriter Antje Duvekot, whom Paul is now championing. “There is an understanding of folk, pop, rock in Antje’s stuff,” he explains. “I felt like this was someone who could be heard on the radio without sacrificing the folk singer’s mission statement of saying things that need to be heard. The songs are incredible. Her voice is amazing.”

After spinning Duvekot’s new CD “Big Dream Boulevard” a few times, I would agree. Her voice – reminiscent of New Bohemian Edie Brickell or Natalie Merchant – displays a surprisingly subtle range of emotional qualities, and the woman can turn a phrase. Just listen to “Dandelion,” the first track on the CD, or my favorite tune, one called “Diamond,” featuring Ellis Paul on background vocals. She even throws done a shockingly sexy little number called “Sex Bandaid.” Say no more.

The wonderful news here is that you can experience both artists – the veteran Paul and the up-and-coming Duvekot – on Saturday night, November 18, at the Valley Players Theater.

This is one “essentials” performance not to be missed!

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Historian, musician, peaceable secessionist, and media educator Rob Williams lives in Vermont’s Mad River Valley.
Read, listen and watch at www.robwilliamsmedia.com.