SPOTTED AT DULLES AIRPORT

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LET FREEDOM RING:

ART AND DEMOCRACY IN THE KING YEARS, 1954-1968

GEORGETOWN UNIVERSITY

APRIL 15, 2008

One of the most consistently rewarding symposia series in the U.S. is the one that began in 2003 under the joint sponsorship of Georgetown University and The Lannan Foundation. In 2005 I was a keynote speaker in their symposium "Black Archipelago: Writing and Performance from the African Diaspora," which brought me together with Jay Wright, Dereck Walcott, Haile Gerima, Linton Kwesi Johnson and others. This year I was invited to join an equally ambitious program examining "Art and Democracy in the King Years," a most welcome supplement to all the obeservations on the anniversary of Dr. King's assasination. While the Pope's visit was tying up traffic over near the new Nationals' stadium, the campus of Georgetown University, more than usually welcoming and beautiful in this early Spring weather, hosted one of the first large meetings to join scholars, artists and civil rights activists for a series of reflections and performances.

The first day of the meetings started off with an eloquent presentation on the Freedom Songs (which were to become a steady theme throughout the symposium) offered by Vincent Harding. I had last seen Dr. Harding more than a two decades earlier when he came to a bookstore near Dupont Circle to speak about his then new, ambitious history THERE IS A RIVER: THE BLACK STRUGGLE FOR FREEDOM IN AMERICA. I had heard him since, though. One of the many audience tapes of Ornette Coleman concerts in my collection is a particularly stellar performance in San Francisco back in 1994. Roughly midway through the concert, featuring the work from TONE DIALING, somebody stepped to the microphone and delivered a spell-binding recitation that went on for twelve minutes. I learned from Bay Area poet friends who had been there that the recitation was given by Vincent Harding. At Georgetown, Harding took the dangerous tactic for a keynote speaker of asking his audience to listen carefully to a series of recordings of Freedom Songs. For nearly half an hour, virtually nobody moved, but all were moved. These songs have as much power today as they did when they propelled a movement years ago.

It was more than usually fitting, then, that Harding's quiet sermon was followed by a performance of Georgetown's own gospel choir. This was the second week in a row that a conference I was attending was treated to the gospel voicings of college students --

This was also an opportunity to reunite with friends -- not just poet and activist friends, but with Georgetown's inspiring community of scholars. Angelyn Mitchell, whose anthology of African American criticism my graduate students are reading right now, was the chief organizer of the symposium. Poet Mark McMorris, who had organized the Black Archipelago conference, was on hand every day. Scott Heath, who I met at the ERUPTIONS OF FUNK symposium last year in Alabama, Libby Rifkin, who I knew from her days at the Folger, Louise Bernard, who spoke at my own campus just a year ago, David Gewanter, with whom I've had a running dialogue on poetry for more than a decade, visiting writer Ammiel Alcalay -- I'm here to testify, Georgetown had nothing like this exciting nucleus of faculty back when I was a student across town.

and at some point in the afternoon, New England poet Everett Hoagland showed up to join us, making the dinner hour after Harding's talk perhaps the most concentrated locus of poetic energies in many a year.

The evening featured a poetry reading with Haki Madhabuti, Eugene Redmond and Amiri Baraka, and despite the late hour when the reading finally wound down, the poets agreed to sit down for further discussion with the audience.

BEST POET - ROD SMITH

I'm back in my hometown, DC, again, and this happens to be the week when Washington's CITY PAPER releases its "BEST OF" issue. Rod Smith was hailed as Best Poet -- He's having a good year!

Best Poet

Rod Smith

With 23 years running Aerial Magazine, 15 years at Georgetown’s Bridge Street Books, and 10 books of poetry published (including last year’s Deed), Rod Smith is a central player in D.C.’s poetry scene. Still, Smith is at his best when flouting poetic tradition. The 45-year-old Cleveland Park poet’s work is, in a word, weird. Take Smith’s “Tub Ride”: “Dad was the man who was always pointing into the sky/at a buzzard. Into a bush at a buzzard. He had a vision./He had a talent for mathematics. He had a tub ride.” The brilliance of Smith’s nonsense lies in its dense underbelly, its hilarious and disturbing investigation into human neurosis. Just imagine what Dad’s tub ride could be. —AH

CLICK TO HEAR CHARLES JOHNSON READ FROM MIDDLE PASSAGE

COLLEGE LANGUAGE ASSOCIATION 2008

The annual conference of the College Language Association happens also to mark the anniversary of this blog. I started the HEATSTRINGS blog from a hotel room in Birmingham, Alabama, during CLA two years ago.

This year's meeting was held in Charleston, South Carolina, at the Francis Marion Hotel -- And yes, that did mean eating some meals in the SWAMP FOX cafe (I would go for the crab soup if I were you.)

The conference offered the usual opportunities to catch up with friends, including Jerry Ward, Akiba Harper, Warren Carson, Howard Rambsy, Dana Williams, Dolan Hubbard, Maryemma Graham, Joanne Gabbin, Daryl Dickson Carr and so many others -- I even ran into Rosemary Feal, from the MLA, who was down South to participate in a panel.

This year's banquet speaker was novelist Charles Johnson, who read from MIDDLE PASSAGE and took questions from the floor. (Have to admit that a neo-slave narrative can make for an odd accompaniment to banqueting, but, as you can hear, we were all in good humor.)



The 2008 conference, as in years past, gave me a chance to hear from sharp young critics just starting out on their university careers.

And Kevin Powell, scheduled speaker for the Langston Hughes Society luncheon, turns out to be running for congress.

But the one thing missing from these photos may have been the best thing of the year. I didn't take my recorder to the big reception, at which Powell made his campaign speech/lit crit commentary, and I've been kicking myself ever since. The reception was hosted by the College of Charleston and their gospel choir performed a stunning version of "Wasn't That A Big Old Storm?" -- They had a tonality to the chorus that was strikingly different from what I grew up hearing in churches "upsouth" and we all were pained to find that they were only scheduled to give us the one song.

Next year's conference will be in Cambridge, Maryland -- Click here for the link to the Association's web site.

ANN COULTER VISITS PENN STATE

. . . but I went to a poetry reading by Charles Wright.

It had been more than twenty years since I had last been to a Wright reading (whereas Coulter seems inescapable even in my universe).

One of the last times I'd seen Wright had been a memorable evening at the Library of Congress, where he'd read with Eleanor Ross Taylor, in what turns out to have been one of the only readings she's ever given.

For his Penn State audience, Wright surveyed the recent years, winding up with a strong offering from his most recent book-length poetic sequence, LITTLEFOOT.

For a sample of this reading, click on the title of today's blog entry. In most browsers this should bring you to an MP3 of Wright reading his poem "Last Supper."

BARACK OBAMA VISITS PENN STATE

Last Thursday, Bill Clinton appeared on our campus for an indoor rally with an impressive and enthusiastic crowd estimated at 6,000. This would not ordinarily have been any real concern to me had it not been for the fact that I knew Penn State was also scheduled to receive a visit this week from Ann Coulter, who had vowed, should John McCain emerge as the Republicans' presidential nominee, to campaign for Hillary Clinton.

So, with two such powerful advocates slotted to appear at University Park in support of the Clinton candidacy, I was naturally concerned that Penn State somehow maintain its scrupulous nonpartisan stance. It was clear to me that we needed a good spokesperson for the Barack Obama campaign.

Yesterday, such a spokesperson came to town, Senator Bob Casey -- he who did us all the very great favor of displacing the dread Rick Santorum. And for good measure, Senator Casey brought Senator Obama along with him.

The clouds and rain finally broke, and Sunday morning was beautifully sunny. It was a great family day, and it looked as though the entire extended Penn State family, Paternos and babies included, had turned out.

You may by now have seen the video of Barack bowling in Altoona, feeding a calf at our Ag school, etc. What has not been seen, apparently unfilmed, was his morning pickup game on the basketball court.

Obama was in great form by the time of the afternoon rally, and he couldn't have asked for a more receptive audience.

Said audience has been estimated at 22,000 -- more than twice the size of any audience for any earlier presidential candidate.

Today it was back to business as usual. Later in the week, we'll hear what Ann Couilter has to say on behalf of her sister Hillary Clinton, though I may miss that one in favor of a poetry reading on the calendar for that same evening.