Cherished Chopin & Poets Cafe (Vol. 2, No. 4)

My October 2010 interview for Poets' Cafe (KPFK 90.7FM) found its permanent home on the website of Timothy Green, editor of Rattle who graciously supports KPFK's initiative to document poetry life in Los Angeles.

Lois P. Jones, an amazing, spiritual, insightful, and incredibly talented poet (I forgot sensuous and erudite), is a fantastic hostess at the Poets' Cafe, airing on Wednesday evenings at 8:30 p.m. She prepares well for her interviews, reading poetry, talking to her prospective guests, asking them to bring a lot of poems. She is warm and lovely and then... ambushes her guests with completely unexpected questions. Thrown off their planned path, guests have to reveal more about themselves than they knew they would, or would have planned to. The hosts laughs with them, shares her favorite lines of their poems, and leads them into a deeper self-understanding and, might I say, enlightenment. Well done, Lois!

After my hour in the studio, that was to be about the "Chopin with Cherries" anthology, but turned out to be all about the poetic me: Who am I? Why am I here, in Los Angeles? Writing in English? What and who do I love? How do I capture the ineffable in words?

Interview: Maja Trochimczyk on Poets' Cafe, hosted by Lois P. Jones and broadcast on Pacifica Radio, KPFK, on March 30, 2011.

Our lovely friend, Kathabela Wilson organized a listening party for the broadcast date of the interview, on March 30, 2011, which she did not know for I did not tell her, nor shared it with Lois, was the 25th anniversary of my baptism during the Easter Vigil at St. Martin's Church in Warsaw, Poland. That miraculous night opened the way across the ocean for me, a Californian by choice. Ultimately, it led to a level of illumination that only now I'm slowly beginning to grasp.

I read one poem from the "Chopin with Cherries" anthology - the title poem, a memory from my Polish childhood, spent in the villages where my grandparents lived. That one is dedicated to my maternal grandparents, Stanislaw and Marianna Wajszczuk who settled in his ancestral village of Trzebieszow in the Lublin region after escaping from the area taken over by the Soviets during World War II. My mother was born in Baranowicze, now in Belarus. Each house in the village was surrounded by gardens, neatly divided by fences into sections where children were allowed into (orchard) and those they were not (flower and vegetable gardens). Children were like pets, or like livestock, in their capacity for destruction. My grandmother took no chances with her crop of tomatoes and strawberries...

We were not allowed to climb the cherry trees, either - the branches were too fragile, cracked easily. But the ancient Italian Walnut tree, with a smooth broad trunk and a perfect spot to sit in, with a book and a cup of cherries, that was something else.

The walnuts, first covered in smooth green skin, and completely white (if you peeled off the yellowish skin off each bitter-sweet nut), were scattered to dry in the attic. Full of old clothes, spinning wheels, weird instruments, and bunches of herbs hanging from the rafters, the attic was my refuge on rainy days. I'd read the old weeklies or books, and eat the walnuts or cherries, or whatever other edibles could be found, scattered on old newsprint. Who said, children had to watch TV or play video games to have fun? All you need is the rain, and a little bit of Chopin.

A Study with Cherries

After Etude in C Major, Op. 10, No. 1 and the cherry orchard
of my grandparents, Stanisław and Marianna Wajszczuk

I want a cherry,
a rich, sweet cherry
to sprinkle its dark notes
on my skin, like rainy preludes
drizzling through the air.

Followed by the echoes
of the piano, I climb
a cherry tree to find rest
between fragile branches
and relish the red perfection –
morning cherry music.

Satiated, sleepy,
I hide in the dusty attic.
I crack open the shell
of a walnut to peel
the bitter skin off,
revealing white flesh –
a study in C Major.

Tasted in reverie,
the harmonies seep
through light-filled cracks
between weathered beams
in Grandma’s daily ritual
of Chopin at noon.

_____________________________________

I was ready to read two other poems from the Chopin anthology, but Lois moved on, first to my "Ode of the Lost" - about the pain of emigration, dedicated to Adam Mickiewicz of the Great Emigration generation of Poles who settled in France after the fall of the November Uprising of 1830. An Ode of the Lost was published in The Cosmopolitan Review, in a special issue about immigrant experience in poetry that I edited, based on materials from a session at the Polish American Historical Association meeting held in San Diego in January 2010. Since that version (The Cosmopolitan Review) did not include any line breaks, I think it will be nice to see the poem with its stanza divisions.

An Ode of the Lost

~ to Adam Mickiewicz and all Polish exiles

Tired exiles in rainy Paris listen to Mickiewicz
reciting praises of woodsy hills, green meadows —
distant Lithuania, their home painted in Polish verse,
each word thickly spread with meaning,
like a slice of rye bread with buckwheat honey.

“Litwo! Ojczyzno moja! ty jesteś jak zdrowie.
Ile cię trzeba cenić, ten tylko się dowie,
Kto cię stracił” — he says, and we, homeless Poles
without ground under our feet, concur,
sharing the blame for our departure.
There’s no return.

Are not all journeys one way? Forward,
forward, go on, “call that going, call that on.”
The speed of light, merciless angel with a flaming sword,
moves the arrow forward. Seconds, minutes
stretch into years. Onwards. Go.
The time-space cone limits the realm of possibility.
If you stay, you can go on. If you leave—

Can you find blessing in the blur of a moment?
In a glimpse of soft, grassy slopes shining
like burnished gold before the sun turns purple?
Can you learn to love the sweet-fluted songs
of the mockingbird, forget the nightingale?

How far is too far for the lost country
to become but a dream of ancient kings—
where children never cry, wildflowers bloom,
and autumn flutter of brown, drying leaves
whispers of the comforts of winter?
Sleep, sleep, eternal sleep,
in the spring you will awaken…

Note: Quotation from Adam Mickiewicz’s Invocation to Pan Tadeusz, or the Last Foray in Lithuania (“My country! You are as good health: /How much one should prize you, he only can tell who has /lost you”), from Samuel Beckett’s The Unnamable, and from the author.

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Quickly moving through time in an interview that became my best portrait, I then came to my California inspirations. I read one poem from that strange novella in verse, "Rose Always - A Court Love Story" that preoccupied me from 2005 to 2008 (and still echoes in various love poems I write from time to time, they are all related!). Published just with a number (76), but often entitled just "The Music Box," this poem is the most miraculous, I feel, of the whole interview.

The magic comes from an actual music box, the one you see in my portrait above. I bought it for five dollars at a garage sale from a neighbor on my street. A white porcelain box with a pink rose in a gold frame on the lid, it plays a lovely song. I found it and then the poem just wrote itself, as I put this and that into the box. I do have a weakness for music boxes: my collection is not large, maybe ten or twenty boxes, mostly carved from wood with decorative inlays and carvings. The white china box, delicate and elegant, was a perfect expression of the nostalgic tone of the poem.

The Music Box

What the world needs now
is love, sweet love…

My china music box plays a song
from your childhood.
Under the lid with one pink rose
I keep my sentimental treasures –
the miniature portrait
in a grey enamel frame echoing
the color of your tank top
worn in defiance
of my sophistication.

The white tulle ribbon – a memento
from my wedding gown?
It held the ornament up
on the bough of the Christmas tree
after that second, numinous summer.

My broken ring, bent not to be worn again,
with a deep scar from your blunt saw,
a shape marked by the strength of your fingers.

It was a moment of liberation –
I don’t have to – anything – any more.

The three little diamonds –
faith, hope and love – embedded
in the scratched gold, still shine,
though not as brightly as the forty three
specks of light surrounding your face.

The missing ring piece hit the ceiling
when it broke off with the pent-up energy
of unwanted love – the marriage that wasn’t.
It is still somewhere in the corner
of the coldest room in my house.

What else?
Three brown leaves from the ash tree
that grew by itself and died,
unwelcome. The Cross of Malta
waiting to shine on your chest.

* * *

What the world needs now
is light, God’s light. . .
My music box plays on. I make up the words
just as I made up this love of clay and gold,
the dust of the earth and starlight –
partly fragile and partly eternal.

______________________________________


If one were to look for a poem, amidst all I wrote, that better defines me, not as a music scholar, nor an administrator, nor a award-winning historian, nor an usher who's always late for Mass, nor a mother who only cooks for holidays, nor even a poet, but simply as a person, this is that poem. T.S. Eliot ended "Little Gidding" - the fourth of the Four Quartets, with these prophetic words:

"And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one."

_______________________________________

PHOTOS: Maja with Lois in KPFK Studio, October 2010. Maja with Lois at Kathabela and Rick Wilson's Salon, summer 2009; Collage art by Barbara Koziel Gawronski in a California landscape (Tujunga Wash in Sunland) photo by Maja Trochimczyk, and portrait of Maja Trochimczyk by Jolanta Maranska-Rybczynska.

On Letter-writing and the Intimate Chopin (Vol. 2, No. 6)

Is the art of letter-writing dead? How little would we know about the lives of people long gone if not for their letters, or diaries and letters... Many of them had a chance to sift and sort, deciding which letters to keep and which to burn, creating their own portrait for posterity. When future historians gain access to every single email, FB status update, and Tweet, in addition to realms of recordings, would they be able to create a better, more insightful, more complete picture of the subject of their study? I think not. It seems that it will be much harder to distill the essence of a person's character, interests, and passions from this avalanche of trivial information and redundant data.

Who knows what type of "letters" will scholars study in the future. For now, we have the letters of Fryderyk Chopin and his friends, hundreds of letters and notes, a dozen of editions. The image that emerges from these handwritten notes is not that of a sublime romantic genius, conversing with the greatest minds of his time about the most elevated subjects, dwelling in a spiritual realm. Not at all: in Chopin's letters we discover his humanity, we learn how vulnerable and weak he was, how angry at his illness, self-centered and inconsiderate of his friends, yet often greatly concerned about the well-being of his parents and sisters. The Chopin that we feel we know from his music does not seem to be the same Chopin that we discover in his letters.

There is a lot of suffering there, true, and a lot of humor. There are quick notes left when visiting someone who happened not to be at home (the equivalent of a phone call or texting). There are discussions about arrangements of the most mundane matters - ordering sets of evening gloves, tailored suits and shirts, or bill payments and earning from teaching.

All the collections of Chopin's letters start from a card he wrote for his father. It is his epistolary message no. 1 in the following collections and editions:

• Bronisław Edward Sydow, editor - Korespondencja Fryderyka Chopina [Correspondence of F. Chopin], in 2 volumes. Warszawa: Państwowy Instytut Wydawniczy, 1955.
  
• Bronisław Edward Sydow, editor - Correspondance de Frédéric Chopin. Paris: Richard-Masse, 1953-1960. In three volumes, reprinted in 1981.
  
• Arthur Hedley, editor and translator - Selected Correspondence of Fryderyk Chopin, abridged from Sydow. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1963.
  
• Krystyna Kobylańska, editor - Korespondencja Fryderyka Chopina z rodziną. [F. Chopin’s Correspondence with his family]. Warszawa: Państwowy Instytut Wydawniczy, 1972.
  
• Zofia Helman, Zbigniew Skowron, and Hanna Wróblewska-Straus, editors. Korespondencja Fryderyka Chopina [Fryderyk Chopin's Correspondence] , volume 1: 1816-1831. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Universytetu Warszawskiego, 2009.
  
• Narodowy Instytut Fryderyka Chopina [The Fryderyk Chopin Institute]. Chopin’s Letters. Warszawa: Internet Chopin Information Centre, 2010. http://en.chopin.nifc.pl/chopin/letters/search/

What did the boy say to his dad? The equivalent of "Happy birthday" and "I love you, Dad" - but in a more formal fashion, surprising for a six-year old. The lovely card was written for Nicholas Chopin's "Name-day" - a far more important celebration in Poland than that of a birthday. The Chopin family paid homage to their patriarch on the feast day of St. Nicholas, December 6 (1816):

Gdy świat Imienin uroczystość głosi Twoich, mój Papo, wszak i mnie przynosi Radość, z powodem uczuciów złożenia, Byś żył szczęśliwie, nie znał przykrych ciosów, Być zawsze sprzyjał Bóg pomyślnych losów, Te Ci z pragnieniem ogłaszam życzenia. F. Chopin. Dnia 6 grudnia 1816

Whereas the world proclaims the celebration of your Name-day, my dear Papa, thus it is also a great joy of mine, occasioned by the expression of heartfelt feelings, to wish you a happy life, that does not know sorrow, nor adversity, that is always blessed by God with good fortune, so these are, longingly expressed, my wishes. F. Chopin. On the 6th day of December, 1816.

If written by a child, and not dictated by his mother, older sister, or caretaker, these wishes surprise with the maturity of vocabulary and complication of syntax. What was Chopin's last letter, then? And how many letters did he write? This remains an issue of contention.

Scholars Zofia Helman, Zbigniew Skowron, and Hanna Wróblewska-Straus have been working for more than two decades on a fully annotated critical edition of all currently known Chopin's letters. The national edition, handsomly issued by the University of Warsaw (available in Polish only) features not only detailed context of each letter, revised and defined placement in chronology, but also extensive notes about every single person mentioned in the letters or in any way associated with them. The hosts of summer vacations, the musicians and friends of musicians, the students and their families - all find their life-stories briefly noted. They were blessed and immortalized by their encounters with a genius whom the world does not want to forget. The one issue that makes it difficult to use along with older edition is letter numbering. The universally accepted numbering by Sydow has been changed, as new letters were inserted in the proper slots and those that were assigned to wrong dates or years, were moved to the appropriate point on the chronology.

The first volume, covering the years up to Chopin's departure from Poland and ending with the famous, tortured pages from his so-called Stuttgart Diary, written after Chopin heard about the end of the November Uprising (started in November 1830), with the fall of Warsaw to Russian troops on September 7, 1831. As the editors ascertained, the Stuttgart press published the first reports about these tragic events on September 16. The famous, dramatic and despairing monologue of an embittered exile was written partly before and partly after that date. Following von Sydow, it is customarily attributed to September 8, a day after the fall of Warsaw, but Helman and her team were able to argue for a more accurate date. After the outburst of despair, on September 18, 1831, Chopin left Stuttgart to continue his way on to Paris where he spent the rest of his life.

The long and dramatic text, permeated with interruptions and exclamations, written in a stream-of-consciousness narrative expresses the composer's distress at a turning point of his life. The format and accusatory tone recall the - written much-later - monologue from Adam Mickiewicz's romantic play, The Forefather's Eve Part III. Chopin really sounds like Konrad in his Grand Improvisation: "Oh God, You are there! You are there and take no revenge! Have You not had Your fill of Muscovite crimes – or – or else You are Yourself a Muscovite! And I sit here idle, and I set here with my hands bare, sometimes just groaning, grieving at the piano, in despair..."

___________________________

The "national edition" of the last letters is not ready yet, though the second volume went to print. Therefore, for Chopin's final word in epistolography, I turned to the online edition of full text of his letters in Polish and the original languages found on the Fryderyk Chopin Information Centre website, managed by the National Fryderyk Chopin Institute in Poland. Alas, the list compiled by NIFC includes mistakes in dates in the summaries of letters - so much so that it appears that he was still writing letters to Auguste Franchomme while dying (listed on October 17, the actual date was September 17) and to Tytus Wojciechowski, that Chopin appears to have written three days after breathing his last (listed on October 20, but actually written on August 20).

The last words, scribbled on a piece of paper, were not a letter but a somber instruction to his attendants, family and friends: "When all this coughing will finally suffocate me, I beg you, please order my body to be opened, so that I will not be buried alive." (Comme cette toux m'étouffera je vous conjure de faire ouvrir mon corps pour je suis pas enterré vif). These are customarily dated "somewhat before October 17, 1849" - not by Chopin.

One of the final dates Chopin wrote in his own hand was that of August 1849, when he sent a note to Auguste Franchomme in Paris, asking for some good wine to be delievered at Chailot where the composer was spending his summer:

"My Dear. Send me some of your Bordeaux. I must drink wine today and I do not have any at home. But pack the bottle well and do not forget to mark it with your seal; oh, these messengers! I do not know to whom you will entrust this package. How suspicious have I become! Yours truly, C. (Mon Cher, Envoie-moi un peu de ton Bordeaux. Il faut que je boive aujourd'hui un peu de vin et je n'en ai d'aucune sorte. Mais enveloppe bien la bouteille et n'oublie pas d'y mettre ton cachet, car les porteurs!! Je ne sais à qui tu confieras cet envoi. Comme je suis devenu soupçonneux! Tout à toi C.

From filial devotion, to patriotic duty, to mundane concerns: Chopin's letters reveal a complicated, conflicted man whose idyllic childhood was followed by adult age tormented by loneliness and disease, yet transfigured in the most inspired music. Two studies of letters of his friend Julian Fontana and his lover George Sand reveal Chopin's character and habits to a greater extent and merit further exploration.

_______________________________


As if Chopin's own letters were not enough, poets wrote new letters in his name. The anthology Chopin with Cherries includes three imaginary letters to and from Chopin by Tammy L. Tillotson. She tries to capture Chopin’s heartbreak in the 1830s, marked by a packet of letters, that he had tied with a ribbon and inscribed “moja bieda” (“my misery”).

Similarly, through two epistolary poems, Martin Willitts Jr. recreates the growing discord between Chopin and Sand after their romance fell apart and the sick pianist was close to death in 1847. Willitts was nominated for four Pushcart Awards. His recent poems appeared in Blue Fifth, Parting Gifts, Bent Pin, New Verse news, Storm at Galesburg and other stories (anthology), The Centrifugal Eye, Quiddity, Autumn Sky Poetry, Protest Poems, and others. His tenth chapbook was The Garden of French Horns (Pudding House Publications, 2008) and his second full length book of poetry is The Hummingbird (March Street Press, 2009). He also has won many national storytelling contests and was invited to Denmark to tell many of the Hans Christian Andersen stories.

"Discord" consists of two letters, one from Chopin to George Sand and one from her to her "beloved little corpse" that she lovingly nicknamed her former lover and patient. Through these invented letters, Willitts tells the story of a romance with a bitter end.

Discord

by Martin Willitts, Jr.


1. Chopin to George Sand, 1847

The delicate touch you felt on your neck
is the same as on a piano, with the same lyrical rush,
the music of leaves in the resolute winds.
It is the same idiomatic language of geese leaving.
My heart has the same feeling, restless, yearning.
When I play a rondo, no one can hear the silence after.
I leave these early movements behind
like I must leave you.
Some things are finished when they are finished.

I thought of returning to you.
I hesitated at your window.
I knew if you saw me with that melodic look you have,
it would enrapture me.
Our bodies would become counterpoints.
But it would be fragmentary motifs. Textural nuances
of what used to be.

Our love was illicit, some say.
I say, it was melodic, rhythmic, and full of music.
Our love was repetitions of a single note.

You criticized me for my primitive sense of form
when we would lie in bed, soaked in harmonic intonations.
You were right about me as well as everything else.
I cannot help being in the soundscape of textures,
in the lightness of sound, in the last moment leaving you.
For life is opening one door and descending unknown stairs.


Would the real Chopin ever write anything like it? We do not know. That is what poetic license is for. Another poet, Roxanne Hoffman, writes in Chopin's persona to Sand. Hoffman is an experienced and widely published poet. Her poems and stories appears on and off the net, most recently in Amaze: The Cinquain Journal, Danse Macabre, The Fib Review, Lucid Rhythms, MOBIUS The Poetry Magazine, Word Slaw and two anthologies: The Bandana Republic: A Literary Anthology By Gang Members And Their Affiliates (Soft Skull Press), and Love After 70 (Wising Up Press). She and her husband own the small press, POETS WEAR PRADA, www.reverbnation.com/pradapoet

Taking the cue from the composer’s notebooks, Hoffman entitles her letter-poem, “G” for George and signs it “F” for Frédéric.
G

by Roxanne Hoffman

G,

I tell my piano
the things I used to tell you,
pull back its fallboard
after propping up the lid,
stroke its sturdy trusses,
hear the strings vibrate in sympathy,
undampered escapement permits,
as my fingers depress and release its keys
to unlock unsaid thoughts,
the music I dream.
The solid back frame
understands the balanced tension
of romance:
the give and the take
of the player and the played,
the rhythm of two heartbeats, even at rest,
the somber melody
of disharmony.
We of equal temperament
speak at length,
practice our arpeggios and scales,
regulate our voices,
and play Mozart in your absence.

F.

Poet's Note: Lines 1 and 2 are a quotation attributed to Chopin. Toward the end of his life he had a falling out with his long time love George Sand, they separated, and she was absent from his funeral. A final request of Chopin’s was to have Mozart’s Requiem sung in his memory. After his death, among his possessions, a lock of her hair was found in a small envelope embroidered with their initials “G.F” tucked in the back of his diary.

A different Chopin emerges as the lyrical subject and protagonist in a poem by Elizabyth Hiscox, ostensibly narrated by "3784 Chopin" a small asteroid up in the sky:


Fryderyk Speaks to George of the Sky

by Elizabyth A. Hiscox

“3784 Chopin” – small asteroid in main belt

They’ve placed me in the vault:
fashioned me
near Jupiter and Mars;
fastened me to the side of old gods.

Power and War, my love,
a chaos created by moveable giants;
an uprising of stone circling itself
all orbital resonance and constant revolution.

Crowded together like notes
written in failing health.

I miss the way the earth broke
over itself each morning:
tender eyedawn of aurorean love.
Broke all of us.

Space, its extended nocturne
is a grand room, my love.
But, as with the past, there is no sound
– only music.

Poet's Note: Italicized line is from John Keat’s “Ode to Psyche.”
George Sand was the pseudonym for Chopin’s one-time lover, Amandine Aurore Lucile Dupin.
Hiscox's venture into the night skies is an imaginative way of personalizing astronomy with a musical romance. Her poetry has appeared in numerous journals – most recently The Fiddlehead and Hayden’s Ferry Review. She is the author of the chapbook Inventory from a One-Hour Room (2009) from Finishing Line Press. Former poet-in-residence at Durham University U.K., she currently serves as Program Coordinator for the Virginia G. Piper Center for Creative Writing at Arizona State University.

She "met" with Willitts and Hoffman in Chopin with Cherries, a book that provided a meeting space for poets and music lovers. Three of the epistolary poems cited here explored the fascinating love affair of Chopin and Sand, and this will be the subject of our next exploration on this forum.

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PHOTO CREDITS:

Photo of the Holy Cross Church in Warsaw, with the pillar containing Chopin's heart on the left. (c) copyright February 2010 by Maja Trochimczyk.

Photo of Zelazowa Wola, Chopin's birthplace by Wojsyl (Own work) [GFDL (www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html), CC-BY-SA-3.0 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/) or CC-BY-SA-2.5 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons.

Photo of Chopin's piano at the Chopin Museum in Warsaw, Poland. (c) copyright February 2010 by Maja Trochimczyk.

Rare Autograph Musical Quotation Signed of Frederic Chopin Op.53 Polonaise. Provenace: Private Collection. May 25, 1845. Frederic Chopin [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

First known photograph of Chopin (1847) published in John O'Shea, Music and Medicine: Medical Profiles of Great Composers (London, Dent, 1990). O'Shea's source is the Fryderyk Chopin Society in Warsaw. The original is in the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris.

George Sand. Paper art decoration at the Chopin's Birthday Concert in Warsaw, Poland, Grand Theater of Opera and Ballet, March 1, 2010, (c) copyright by Maja Trochimczyk (photograph only).

Sharon Chmielarz on Chopin (Vol. 2, No. 5)

At the end of February, a wonderful poet Sharon Chmielarz visited Southern California for a tour of poetry readings, including appearances at Ventura, Pasadena, La Canada, and Tujunga. She read her erotic poetry in Ventura and poems inspired by the art of painter Stephen Lindsteadt, not about Chopin. Her visit created an opportunity to ask her about Chopin. Chmielarz provided the following response to my inquiry about her interest in Chopin's music:

"Strangely my interest in Chopin began with a non-interest in Chopin. I’d always wondered what the hoopla was all about. That changed one evening in Krakow when my husband and I attended an all Chopin concert. That night I heard Chopin. Oh! “An American Hears Chopin,” a poem in CHOPIN WITH CHERRIES, tries to convey the experience."


"It was my husband Tad (Tadeusz), a refugee after WWII, who introduced me to classical music. I’d skirted its edges before, but with him I listened. It was a gift he gave when he was alive and which I treasure."

"I love music, but poetry is my thing. I have two new books out, CALLING and THE SKY IS GREAT THE SKY IS BLUE. Each has a few poems about music or musicians, place/ travel, history, women. I had a chance to read from them in Ventura and Tujunga. It was a great trip, especially after months of winter in Minnesota; to California, a parallel universe of ice and snow."

One of Chmielarz's contributions to the Chopin with Cherries anthology, entitled "Chopin: Apples" was recognized by a Pushcart Prize nomination for the year 2010.

Chopin: Apples

And what country hasn’t he lived in,
his music chilling the listener’s arms?

And when haven’t his glissandos
spilled over history, the colossus

that upsets lives like apple carts?
Apples rolling over cobbles.

God-fall we think,
finding among the bruised,

a handful of sweet apples.
The easy thank you is listening

to someone playing at a window
in Warsaw, turning the rumble

of despair into a mazurka.
“Beloved little corpse,” Sand called Chopin,

sitting beside him at the keyboard.
Her “angel.” His music, his wings.


We could hear that poem during the Chopin with Cherries reading at the Chopin & Paderewski 2010 conference held at the Loyola University Chicago in November 2010. Chmielarz appeared as a member of a group of poets, with Kathabela Wilson, Katrin Talbot, George Bodmer, and others.

Sharon Chmielarz's books include Different Arrangements, But I Won’t Go Out in a Boat, The Other Mozart (made recently into a two-part opera) and The Rhubarb King. She’s had poems published in magazines like The Iowa Review, Prairie Schooner, The Laurel Review, The Hudson Review, Water~Stone, Great River Review, North Dakota Quarterly, Salmagundi and many others. She’s had one chapbook published, A Stranger in Her House. Two new books of poems are forthcoming from Loonfeather Press and Whistling Shade Press.

More information about her may be found on her website: www.sharonchmielarz.com

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Group photo from Village Poets Reading at Bolton Hall Museum, Tujunga, February 27, 2011. Sharon is in a red sweater in the front row, surrounded by other poets.

Chopin for Children in Pacoima (Vol. 2, No. 4)

On March 4, 2011, during the national "Read Across America" celebration, Chopin with Cherries found its way to Pacoima Charter Elementary School in Pacoima, California. As a volunteer reader, I decided to introduce California children (most of whom were Latino, speaking English as a second language) to the beauty of poetry. The readings were illustrated with Chopin's music from a CD of preludes and a PowerPoint presentation with the poems and illustrations from vintage postcards published in the book.

While having a guest in the classroom is always attractive and I did several guest readings in various schools already, so I was happy to face this young audience, the Chopin material had its challenges. It was potentially too "high-brow" for children who - most likely - have never heard a piece of classical music (apart from TV commercials), nor attended a piano recital, nor read a poem.

I thought I would give them a glimpse of the role of art and music in Polish culture. What do they do in the evening? "Watch TV!" - was the unanimous answer. What could Polish people do in the 19th century, when they had no TV, no radio, no phones, and no electricity? They could listen to the piano, like the man in the postcard of an evening in a salon.

The image of an elegant musician in a long gown, playing by candle light was a good introduction to Kerri's Buckley poem, Ruby and Sapphire. Just in case, I asked if the children knew what "rubies" and "sapphires" were - most of them did not. I also brought a silk scarf to illustrate the elegance of the noble ladies listening to Chopin playing the piano in a romantic salon.

Ruby and Sapphire

by Kerri Buckley

Evening belongs to Chopin,
crimson silks and sparkling wines, trails of smoke

From balconies, stiff, rustling fabrics of
tailored suits, perfume, chocolate truffles rolled in

Waxed paper cones, shiny as diamonds, as pearls,
and the music — notes one breathes in, holds fully

So it might never
be forgotten, sound of richness, of ruby, of sapphire,

Elegant nod to all refined things,
to the ivory on a piano key, thrown from a window

Into a golden glitter of leaves by Russian soldiers

The destruction of Chopin’s piano occurred during one of the battles in the tumultuous period after the January Uprising in 1863, when Russian soldiers ravaged a Warsaw palace where the piano was housed and threw the historic instrument out of the window. This moment became a symbol of savage destruction of beauty by violence, the polar opposition of art and war. References to this symbolic brutality appear in three other poems in Chopin with Cherries: by Charles Adés Fishman, Leonard Kress, and Cyprian Kamil Norwid (in Kress's translation).

Both groups of children were responsive to the idea of music;s association with peace, beauty, and inspiration, especially that they could hear such inspired sounds right then and there. The fifth-graders also heard poems by Nils Peterson (After Listening to all the Preludes and my A Study with Cherries and the second-graders were introduced to Maxine R. Syjuco's humorous and surreal Chewing Chopin.

The centerpiece of both presentations was the poem about my village childhood, Harvesting Chopin. I thought that these first-generation Angelenos would be spending their summers abroad, with their grandparents, living ten months here and two months in a different world, different culture. A show of hands confirmed my assumption. I, too, used to spend my school years in a big city, Warsaw, and the summer vacations in two distant villages of my grandparents: Bielewicze of the Belarussian Grandma, Nina Trochimczyk, and Trzebieszow of the Polish Marianna and Stanislaw Wajszczuk.

I thought it would be interesting for the children to hear about life on a Polish farm in the 1960s and 1970s, without running water and heavy machinery to harvest the fields of rye or wheat. The harvesting technology there did not change in a thousand years, until the rise of the machines. (The illustration, "The Harvesters" by Pieter Brueghel The Eldest is from 16th century Netherlands; the harvest technology and tools were the same four hundred years later in Poland).

While describing the harvesting scene, I drew pictures of a rake and a scythe. The latter one was greeted with smiles of recognition: "That belongs to the Grim Reaper" - the children said. "Reaper" means "harvester" - I explained,finding a connection between American Halloween and Polish village customs. There is one huge difference, though, in my youth Chopin's music could be heard daily on radio broadcasts reaching the whole country. Is there any music that all of them know as well as we knew Chopin then? I did not ask that question. The answer would have been too obvious.

Harvesting Chopin
 
The straw was too prickly,
the sunlight too bright,
my small hands too sweaty
to hold the wooden rake
my uncle carved for me.
I cried on the field of stubble;
stems fell under his scythe.

I was four and had to work –
Grandma said – no work no food.
How cruel! I longed for
the noon’s short shadows
when I’d quench my thirst
with cold water, taste
the freshly-baked rye bread

sweetened by the strands
of music wafting from
the kitchen window.
Distant scent of mazurkas
floated above the harvesters
dressed in white, long-sleeved shirts
to honor the bread in the making

The dance of homecoming
and sorrow – that’s what
Chopin was in the golden air
above the fields of Bielewicze
where children had to earn their right
to rest in the daily dose of the piano –
too pretty, too prickly, too bright

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Photograph of "The Harvesters" by Pieter Breughel the Elder from Wikimedia Commons, postcards of Chopin at the piano and a romantic salon from Chopin with Cherries. Poems published in Chopin with Cherries (Moonrise Press, 2010), copyright of the authors.

The End of the Chopin Year (Vol. 2, No. 3)

We spent a very special year in the company of Fryderyk Chopin, his music, his thoughts, his friends and poets writing about him. In February 2010, Chopin with Cherries was officially unveiled at the Third International Chopin Congress in Warsaw. In the past, there were many studies of Polish poets associated with Chopin: friends whose poems he set to music, and those writing about him and his music after his death. The Chopin with Cherries anthology and presentations of various aspects of its contents is the first effort to gather and study English-language poetry about Chopin. Our year-long journey was filled with exciting events and publications, leading to an increased recognition of the lasting value of this collection. The next step will be issuing a version for e-book readers, but it is time to celebrate what has been accomplished so far.


The Poets

I am the most grateful to all the poets who submitted their work to this anthology and helped me find more poems to include. John Z. Guzlowski’s assistance has been invaluable in publicizing this collection through his Polish-American blogs and contacts. He also told me of Margaret C. Szumowski’s wonderful poem and connected me to Charles Fishman, who in turn sent me an inspired poem by William Pillin. Kathabela and Rick Wilson attended each of the four Chopin with Cherries group readings, in Pasadena, Los Angeles, Venice, and Chicago. At Venice and in Chicago, Rick played Chopin on historical flutes from his collection. They also hosted a Chopin Salon in Pasadena, helping local poets connect to Chopin's music. Dr. Mira Mataric has faithfully participated in all California readings and is working on Serbian translations of selected poems.

A sincere thank-you to all the poets featured in Chopin with Cherries: Millicent Borges Accardi, Austin Alexis, Lucy Anderton, Sheila Black, George Bodmer, Lia Brooks, Kerri Buckley, Allison Campbell, Peggy Castro, Sharon Chmielarz, Victor Contoski, Clark Crouch, Beata Pozniak Daniels, Jessica Day, Diane Shipley DeCillis, Lori Desrosiers, Charlie Durrant, T. S. Eliot, David Ellis, Donna L. Emerson, Charles Ades Fishman, Jennifer S. Flescher, Gretchen Fletcher, Linda Nemec Foster, Emily Fragos, Jarek Gajewski, Helen Graziano, John Z. Guzlowski, Lola Haskins, Shayla Hawkins, Elizabyth A. Hiscox, Marlene Hitt, Roxanne Hoffman, Laura L. Mays Hoopes, Ben Humphrey, Carol J. Jennings, Charlotte Jones, Lois P. Jones, Georgia Jones-Davis, Christine Klocek-Lim, Jean L. Kreiling, Leonard Kress, Emma Lazarus, Marie Lecrivain, Jeffrey Levine, Amy Lowell, R. Romea Luminarias, Rick Lupert, Radomir V. Luza, Mira N. Mataric, Ryan McLellan, Anna Maria Mickiewicz, Elisabeth Murawski, Ruth Nolan, Cyprian Kamil Norwid, Rosemary O'Hara, Dean Pasch, Nils Peterson, Richard Pflum, William Pillin, Kenneth Pobo, Carrie A. Purcell, Marilyn N. Robertson, Susan Rogers, Alison Ross, Mary Rudge, Russell Salamon, Gabriel Shanks, Marian Kaplun Shapiro, Joseph Somoza, Lusia Slomkowska, Kathi Stafford, Maxine R. Syjuco, Fiona Sze-Lorrain, Margaret C. Szumowski, Katrin Talbot, Taoli-Ambika Talwar, Thom Tammaro, Mark Tardi, Cheryl M. Thatt, Tammy L. Tillotson, Helen Vandepeer, Devi Walders, Erika Wilk, Martin Willitts, Jr., Kath Abela Wilson, Leonore Wilson, Meg Withers, Anne Harding Woodworth, and Marianne Worthington.

Three poets have responded to my requests for personal comments about Chopin’s music and their inspirations: Mark Tardi, Tammy L. Tillotson, and Ben Humphrey. It would be nice to hear from more poets…

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Pushcart Prize Nominations

As the editor of the collection, I took the liberty of nominating some of my favorite poems to the 2010 Pushcart Prize for Poetry. It was a very hard choice since I love all the poems in this anthology. I picked those who could “use” a nomination, so to speak… The Pushcart Prize and publication in the annual collection of the best poetry published by small presses and literary journals nationwide has become one of the most prestigious honors in the poetry field. The nominations are made by editors and publishers who select the best of the best from amongst the work that they have published during the past year. We are proud to present the following Pushcart Prize 2010 nominees:

• Lia Brooks for "During Nocturne"
• Elizabeth Murawski for "Polonaise"
• Diane Shipley DeCillis for "Postcards of Home and Homesick"
• Sharon Chmielarz for "Chopin: Apples"
• Katrin Talbot for "It's been a tough symphony week," and
• Leonard Kress for "The Piano of Chopin," a translation of Cyprian Kamil Norwid's poem "Fortepian Szopena"

Congratulations to all the poets! It would not be amiss to mention here that some of our poets have received other nominations and prizes. Elizabeth Murawski won the prestigious 2010 May Swenson Award (read her blog entry) Lois P. Jones and Millicent Borges Accardi were nominated for Pushcart Prizes by other small-presses.

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Reviews

CHRISTOPHER WOODS: “For those who have been moved by the music of Fryderyk Chopin, this new international anthology will be a treat… one breathtaking aspect of the anthology is the diversity of voices, both stylistically and geographically. .. One of the striking aspects of the anthology is the way in which the editor, Polish born Maja Trochimczyk, arranges the various sections, not only by musical forms, but also into sections like beauty and death, words that often come to mind when considering Chopin’s life, his passions and his early demise.” Christopher Woods in Contemporary World Literature 5 (Feburary 2011).

ELIZABETH KANSKI: "In Poland, June is the month for Bing cherries (czeresnie) and July for sour cherries (wisnie), but it is Chopin season year-round, especially in 2010, the 200th anniversary of the birth of the great composer. Maja Trochimczyk, Polish American music historian, poet and photographer, decided to celebrate Chopin's birthday in an unconventional manner: with 123 poems by 92 poets, gathered together into a handsomely produced and exciting new anthology." Elizabeth Kanski in the Polish American Journal, September 2010, p. 21.

ALISON ROSS: "What is most striking about this verse tribute is how deftly the editor weaves together the various themes, treatments and styles within the volume, meticulously detailed in the introduction and then presented format-wise in the book... All in all, I am immensely pleased with how this anthology turned out. In fact, it exceeded my expectations, because it is so comprehensive and cohesive. The poems are fascinatingly diverse in voice, topic, content, and style, and the poems reveal such richly individualistic interpretations of Chopin's powerful pathos. . . "Chopin with Cherries" is an anthology to treasure as intimately as one might cherish Chopin's compositions. Alison Ross, in the Clockwise Cat, May 2010

JOHN Z. GUZLOWSKI: "Maja Trochimczyk's Chopin with Cherries... is a masterful celebration of this composer and the complex range of emotions, impressions, memories, and dreams his music evokes... Finally, let me say that I cannot remember reading an anthology of poems centered around a single-theme that I liked more. The poems Maja Trochimczyk has gathered together to commemorate Chopin's 200th birthday are inspiring and exhilarating, as I have already noted, and - I don't know how else to say this - fun to read." John Z. Guzlowski in The Cosmopolitan Review 2 no. 1 (Spring 2010).

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Poetry Readings and Conferences

Annual Meeting of the Polish-American Historical Association, Boston, Mass., January 8, 2011. Maja Trochimczyk’s paper "The Image of Chopin's Death in Art and Poetry".

Semi-Annual Conference of the Polish American Historical Association, Jagiellonian University, Krakow, Poland, June 26, 2010. Maja Trochimczyk’s paper "Chopin in Polish-American Poetry: Lost Country, Found Beauty." Publication forthcoming in the Polish American Studies.

Chopin with Cherries IV - Anthology Reading at Loyola University Chicago, part of Chopin & Paderewski 2010 Conference, November 13, 2010.

With poets: Sharon Chmielarz, Gretchen Fletcher, George Bodmer, Ben Humphrey, Katrin Talbot and Maja Trochimczyk. The photographs from the event are posted in a Picasa Web Album.

Chopin Lecture, Recital and Poetry Reading at Polish Fest LA, Adams Blvd., Los Angeles, September 25, 2010, at 1 p.m. - featuring poets Maja Trochimczyk, Mira N. Mataric, Susan Rogers, and Lois P. Jones. www.polishfestla.com

Chopin with Cherries III - Anthology Reading at Beyond Baroque, Venice, CA, September 12, 2010 at 3 p.m.

With Maja Trochimczyk, anthology editor, Rick Wilson, flute (historical crystal glass and ivory flutes) and sixteen poets, appearing in person: Marlene Hitt, Georgia Jones-Davis, Lois P. Jones, Marie Lecrivain, R. Romea Luminarias, Radomir Vojtech Luza, Rick Lupert, Mira Matric, Ruth Nolan, Marilyn Robertson, Susan Rogers, Kathi Stafford, Taoli Ambika Talwar, Maja Trochimczyk, Kathabela Wilson, and Erika Wilk. A full program with the list of poems and the poets' biographies was included in this blog: Chopin at Beyond Baroque and photos are on Chopin III Picasa Web Album.

Chopin with Cherries II: An Evening of Poetry and Music. Ruskin Art Club, Los Angeles, CA, Saturday, May 8, 2010, 7 p.m. Chopin recital by eminent Polish pianist Dr. Wojciech Kocyan with readings by poets from around the country.

The poetry reading and concert by pianist Wojciech Kocyan was hosted by Maja Trochimczyk, editor and featured 14 poets: Gretchen Fletcher, Millicent Borges Accardi, Georgia Jones-Davis, Donna Emerson, Erika Wilk, Laura Mays Hoopes, Mira Mataric, Maja Trochimczyk, Kath Abela Wilson, Kathi Stafford, Marian Kaplun Shapiro, Beata Pozniak Daniels, Taoli-Ambika Talwar, and Susan Rogers. The festivities ended with a polonaise to Chopin's music, led by Edward Hoffman, choreographer of the Krakusy Polish Folk Dance Ensemble. See photos at Picasa Chopin II Photo Album and the PDF flyer with more information: Chopin at the Ruskin.

Chopin with Cherries I: An Evening of Poetry and Music. South Pasadena Library Auditorium, 1115 El Centro St., South' Pasadena, CA, 91030; Sunday, April 11, 2010, 6 p.m.

Reading by 20 poets with Chopin's music played by American pianist, Dr. Neal Galanter and by students of Prof. Roza Yoder from Azusa Pacific University. pianists Kristi Chiou, Stacy Chiou, and Anna Nizghorodtseva, Dr. Neil Galanter and Sue Zhou, poets Mira N. Mataric, Erika Wilk, Lois P. Jones, Kathabela Wilson, Marilyn N. Robertson, Rick Lupert, and Radomir Luza poet Russell Salamon,. Maja Trochimczyk, Susan Rogers, artist Monique Lehman, Peggy Castro. Photo album from this event is at Chopin I: Picasa Web Album.

Concert of Romantic Music, Azusa Pacific University, Azusa, CA, Tuesday, Feburary 16, 2010, 7:30p.m. With Roza Yoder, Director. Piano music performed by APU students. Readings from Chopin with Cherries by Maja Trochimczyk and local poets. Erika Wilk, Mira Mataric, Susan Rogers, Taoli-Ambika Talwar and Maja Trochimczyk

Bicentennial Chopin Celebration, Colburn School of Music, Los Angeles, CA, Saturday, February 27, 2010, 8 p.m. With eminent pianists John Perry, Wojciech Kocyan and actress Jane Kaczmarek reading poems from Chopin with Cherries. Presented by the Paderewski Music Society and Helena Modjeska Polish Arts and Culture Club. All proceeds will be used to support the first International Paderewski Piano Competition in California, May 2010.

3rd International Chopin Congress, Warsaw, Poland, February 25 - March 1, 2010. Congress organized by Fryderyk Chopin Institute and the University of Warsaw.

The official presentation of the book during Maja Trochimczyk's paper "From 'Eternal Eloquence' to 'What Does he Know' - Images of Chopin in English-language Poetry." University of Warsaw Old Library, Warszawa, ul. Krakowskie Przedmiescie 26/28, Poland. See pictures in the Chopin Congress Photo Album.

Chopin Salon for Poets on Site – Pasadena, August 1, 2009. Maja Trochimczyk’s presentation at Kathabela and Rick Wilson’s Poetry Salon for poets and friends of poets interested in Chopin’s image and place in Polish history, including reading of several poems from the first round of submissions.

67th Annual Meeting of the Polish Institute of Arts and Sciences of America, Jersey City, New Jersey, June 2009. Maja Trochimczyk’s paper "From 'Eternal Eloquence' to 'What Does He Know?' - Images of Chopin in English-language Poetry."

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Poetry Reprints

Poems from the Chopin with Cherries anthology were reprinted in this blog, but also in other venues:

Wyspa Kwartalnik Literacki, A Polish literary quarterly (December 2010) featured a translation of "Rubies and Sapphires" by Kerri Buckley, by a Polish poet, Mira Kus ("Rubiny i szafiry").

The Cosmopolitan Review (February 2010) featured a selection of poems from the book, i.e., works by: Kerri Buckley, Ryan McLellan, Rick Lupert, Elizabeth Murawski, Ruth Nolan, William Pillin, Katrin Talbot, and Maja Trochimczyk.

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... and our Readers

Gifts of Chopin with Cherries were received by, among others:

Lech Walesa, Polish politician, former Solidarity leader and winner of Nobel Peace Prize, got his copy of Chopin with Cherries on December 17, 2010; with a photo to prove it.

Jane Kaczmarek, Polish-American actress who read a selection of poems at Chopin Bicentennial Celebration in February 2010 received her copy during the First International Paderewski Competition in Los Angeles, June 2010.

The Polish Museum of America, a gift accepted by Ms. Malgorzata Kot, Librarian, during the Loyola University Chicago Chopin & Paderewski Conference in November 2010.

Chopin in Colorado with Ben Humphrey (Vol. 2, No. 2)

The last 2010 group reading from the Chopin with Cherries anthology took place at the November 2010 Chopin & Paderewski Conference at the Loyola University Chicago.

A lively and lovely group of poets gathered, including guests from Chicago who listened to visiting poets from around the country. George Bodmer, Sharon Chmielarz, Ben Humphrey, Gretchen Fletcher, Katrin Talbot, Maja Trochimczyk, Kathabela and Rick Wilson were there in person, sharing the poems by others.

Photos from the event may be seen at the Loyola University Chopin Album, and, to those who are friends of Kathabela, on her Facebook page, but a more substantial review still waits for its completion.

Each of the poets presented their work in a different way. Colorado-based Ben Humphrey decided to write out little introductions to his two poems and allowed me to reprint them, along with his poems.

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Ben Humphrey - Introductions and Poems

Introduction to An Invitation in D-flat Major

When I go to a reading, I like to know a little about the poet and how a poem came to be written, so I’ll trouble you with a few comments about my own work.

I live at 9,300 ft in the Rockies. I’m six miles from a paved road, so it’s quiet, and except when I’m listening to music, there is only the sound of the weather or “the sound of silence.”

I’m never annoyed by the weather. I have a dog; she always has her coat. So we go for walks whatever nature has to offer. Rain, snow, sleet and hail are a blessing; we need water for the trees and wild flowers.

I like to watch the snow fall and my dog loves to romp in snow drifts. One day in watching the swirling snow, the idea of the wind whistling a waltz can to mind and that lead to Chopin’s Minute Waltz.

An Invitation in D-flat Major

Snowfall over, sun’s out,
wind whistles a Waltz,
refracting flakes whirl in triple time.

My focus limited
to page, paragraph.
Sun warms my cabin’s roof.

A crescendo of clattering slabs
Awakens me from my book
calls me – to take a Minute for the dance.

* * * * * * * * * *

Introduction to: A Pastoral Piece in D-flat Major

It’s quiet where I live, and I enjoy the sound of the weather, rain, wind, sleet or hail. Poor Chopin, his vacation in Majorca was ruined by rain.

One morning, I was enjoying the sound of rain against my windows. I started to write a poem, cited the repetitious notes and then Chopin’s: The Raindrop Prelude, came to mind.

I reworked the poem and included as many musical terms as possible: motif, pianissimo, figures, grace notes, theme and cadence.
Finally it occurred to me, if the solo piano can take center stage, so can the weather.

A Pastoral Piece in D-flat Major

Gently beating on a window pane,
a rain storm’s motif
usually a patter, pianissimo
like repetitious figures of a Chopin prelude.

There are grace notes in raindrops,
a passing pastoral theme and a final
closed cadence. An atmospheric disturbance
has occupied center stage.

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NOTE: Photos from the Loyola University Chicago Conference include all poets present in person with musician Rick Wilson. L to R: Rick Wilson, Sharon Chmielarz, Kathabela Wilson, Gretchen Fletcher, Maja Trochimczyk, Katrin Talbot, George Bodmer, and Ben Humphrey. The second photo depicts Ben Humphrey in conversation with Gretchen Fletcher. Ben provided the following biographic note for the book:

"In his somewhat wasted youth, G. BENNETT HUMPHREY received a MD and PhD from the University of Chicago, a disfiguring experience that turned his head into an egg. In his not so wasted youth, Ben studied piano, trumpet and later the banjo. Music was and still is an escape into solitude. Ben is pleased to have an opportunity to participate in this tribute to Chopin. He has been a guest on several occasions in Poland and wishes to express his gratitude for the hospitality that was extended to him by the Polish people. A retired Professor of Pediatric Oncology, Ben has been writing poetry since 2005. His poems have been published in American and British Journals and anthologies. He is an active member of Poetry West and serves on its Board of Directors."

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Happy New Year 2011! (Vol. 2, No. 1)

Our Chopin adventure is coming to a close, with the festivities of the Chopin Year largely completed. In January 2011 at the Polish American Historical Association's Annual Meeting held in Boston, Mass., I will read a paper based, in part, on poetry and illustrations from Chopin with Cherries. The topic will be more sombre than other ones: the association of Chopin and his music with morbidity and death in popular culture and poetry. The vintage, turn-of-the-century postcards, like the one reproduced below will provide some of the most radical and kitchy illustrations of the fin-de-siecle spiritual malaise.

A report from this event will have to wait, as I have not even written about our fantastic group reading at the Chopin & Paderewski 2010 Conference at Loyola University Chicago back in mid-November 2010. In the backlog, we also have a guest blog by Ben Humphrey who wrote introductions to both of his poems presented at the conference.


The new year will bring new amusements and divertisements... I hope it will be healthy and happy for everyone. Among hundreds of wishes in my inbox this year (Christmas, Holiday, Birthday and New Year's Wishes), the following one in Serbian from Mira Mataric, a wonderful Serbian-American poet:

Živeli zdravo, radosno, radoznalo, raskošno, razumno i razborito, povremeno se okliznite u avanturu i ne zažalite za onim što odlazi!

I do not know exactly what it means, but it certainly looks good! I also liked very much the anumated wishes from two Polish friends, "Happy New Year Everybody" from Krysia Kaszubowska and "Happy New Year" from Eva Matysek Mazur. It seems that paper cards have been replaced with lovely animated ones these days, just as books are slowly giving way to electronic "reads" on things like I-Pads, Kimbles and other electronic book readers. I like cleaning the frost flowers off the electronic window to see the village covered in snow outside - just like the villages and the frozen flowers of my (and Chopin's) Polish childhood. The flat fields covered in a white blanket, snowflakes swirling in moonlight, the allure of warmth inside the homes, lights shining from their windows into the cold darkness around... Feeling nostalgic for real winter yet? I must admit I like electronic snow much more than the real one, and that's why I live in Southern California...



At a recent Haiku Party of the Southern California Haiku Study Group, chaired by Debbie Kolodji at the welcoming home of Wendy and Tom Garen, I read two new haiku celebrating the change of the year, from the tumultuous Year of the Tiger to the placid Year of the Rabbit. These are my first poems of the year, expressing the hope for a serene and content future, or, at least, some rest. The first one got accidentally printed on four lines. The white rabbit is the one from Monty Python, of course. Enjoy! Even without Chopin or cherries...



Happy New Year! Dosiego Roku!