Ramana Vieira, Portuguese Fado Sensation to Appear in Berkeley April 3rd

Slash Pine Press is pleased to announce our second call for chapbook-length manuscripts of poetry or mixed-genre (prose poetry, micro-essays mixed with poems—we’re flexible). We are not looking at “traditional” fiction at this time. Please take a moment to familiarize yourself with our mission and submission procedures, which can be found at www.slashpinepress. com. If our aesthetic and philosophical ambitions line up with yours, please send us the best work you’ve got.

We are looking for innovative work, no longer than 24pp. Our submission period opens March 1st, and extends through May 1st, 2010
Please note, to anyone familiar with the press, our website has changed. It is now
www.slashpinepress. com
Please refer to the website for more specific guidelines.

Thanks,

Joseph Wood, editor
Slash Pine Press
Dept. of English
PO Box 870244
University of Alabama
Tuscaloosa, AL 35487-0244
Please feel free to contact the editors at <slashpinepress( at)gmail. com> (replace (at) with @) if you have any further questions.

Inspired by the writings of Eugène Ionesco, “Bananaritis” is a descent into the abyss of comic absurdity.”

“Although not a direct comment on the role of the phallus in society, Rubel’s banana exhibits sexual, cultural and social potency.”

-Phinn Sriployrung, Highlander Press, University of California, Riverside.

Bananaritis is a performance piece by Tim Rubel Human Shakes, that combines contemporary dance styles with theatrical spectacle to create a strange world where intimate queer relationships are being re-imagined because of a strange new symbol of social order; the banana.  There is no real significance of the symbol for this new world order being a banana, other than perhaps its phallic shape.  It is really just a random object for people to project their obsessions onto.  Using humor and satire,  Bananaritis suggests that societies have often become obsessed with the most ridiculous ideas, thus allowing them to be led down a path where sensible communication is no longer possible, and individual opinions are replaced by fascist ideology.

Throughout the dance, queer individuals are consistently negotiating for affection from others and sometimes achieving it, but often being rejected.  Still they continue to pursue these people just as they continue to become more infatuated with bananas.  In the end, all of the dancers’ individual identities are lost when they are all transformed into militant life-sized bananas.  In this new banana order no individual forms of sexual, racial, or gender equality are allowed.  All must submit to becoming bananas and recruiting more members for the movement or risk isolation and imprisonment. 

“I do not reference any specific fascist or anti-queer movement in this piece.  Instead, I am interested in creating a performance representation of one, and allowing the audience to develop their own theories about it, based on their lived experiences with the politics of power and the disciplining of individual bodies.”   -Tim Rubel, Choreographer.

Bananaritis is loosely based off of the theatrical writings of 20^th century Absurdist playwright, Eugene Ionesco (1909-1994).  Ionesco’s plays often centered around an individual’s resistance to limitations put onto his/her life by the hegemonic political system in which they live.  The initial inspiration for making choreographic material came from several of Ionesco’s early plays where a re-occurring male character by the name of “Berenger” is the protagonist resisting the highly provincial social and political norms of his community. 

Choreographer, Tim Rubel read many Ionesco plays as well as his own reflective writings about his work and the Theatre that produced it.  He started to notice that Ionesco’s plays; particularly the “Berenger plays” had possibilities for a queer interpretation.  He began to think of Berenger as a queer identifying person who is acting against the absurd ways in which many political systems attempt to discipline queer bodies.  He then began to construct movement that was trying to get at this idea, using lines from Ionesco’s The Killer and Rhinoceros.  Like the dialogue in an Ionesco play, the choreography in this dance plays with alternative logic patterns.  The dancers interact with each other making strange physical choices, while verbally communicating in ways that seem utterly confusing at times.  However, it is (hopefully) clear to the audience that in their (the dancers’) world, they are acting perfectly normal.   Bananaritis was first presented at the University of California, Riverside on Oct. 15^th, 2009.

When:  Saturday March 20^th 2010.  One show only!

               8:00PM

Where:  CounterPULSE:  1310 Mission St. @ 9^th

               San Francisco, CA

Tickets:  $20.00/At the Door

                 $15.00/With reservation

                 $5 discount to all CounterPULSE members.

For reservations call or email Brown Paper Tickets at (800) 838-3006 or go to www.brownpapertickets.com.

For information on CounterPULSE please visit www.counterpulse.org

For information on Tim Rubel Human Shakes please email Humanshakes@yahoo.com or call (401) 440-5440

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Welcome to our March issue – which comes at a time of change and development. Wherever you are, whether you’re at the beginning of spring or fall, it’s a time when nature builds off of processes already set in motion, of regrowth or decay. When we start to notice what’s been happening almost imperceptibly beneath the surface for weeks, when we realize we’re in the midst of another transformative cycle.

This month’s contributors encourage us to look beneath the surface and go deeper into journeys and ideas already started. Geri McGilvray, a self-described ‘colorist,’ explains how she views the choice and combination of colors as a crucial element of her work, and experiments with a piece until the tones and hues provide just the effect she intends. In the same way, Sonoma poet Janine Canan gradually probes and depicts through words the process and life’s work of several artists and spiritual leaders. She presents life processes – birth, creativity, death, even extinction –  as part of a naturally cohesive whole, rather than isolated events.

Photographer and visual costume and fashion artist Alisha Fisher creates and develops each of her images, working together with her natural inspirations over time rather than pointing and shooting in the moment. Through her work, she becomes her chosen natural settings, intentionally seeking to take on qualities of the rocks, sky, trees – even of garbage and busy cities.

Ramana Vieira most admires singer/songwriters who embody the characters and the emotions they sing about, who go through the process of traveling in time and space to create, rather than simply present, the music. Elizabeth Hughes unfortunately has no choice but to live out the lifestyle of a homeless person, and encourages others to look beyond their initial reactions and imagine themselves in her place. Her written work and her ordinary life become inseparably intertwined, and we present both together, as a statement about how Hughes’ writing and photography provide meaning and distraction and sustain her during the process of rebuilding her life.

Patsy Ledbetter encourages the process of empathy through a personal example, describing meeting a disabled lady in a wheelchair at the farmers’ market. While she cannot restore the woman’s ability to walk or give her a normal life, Ledbetter can talk with her and make a connection, treat her as a human being. Her spiritual faith inspires her to honor the dignity of all life, to look beyond first judgements inspired by someone’s appearance – whether that first judgement would be to write someone off, or to see them only as an object of pity, and thus also underestimate their real potential.

Deborah Fruchey’s book on coping with mental illness, Is There Room for Me, Too? directly addresses those with bipolar syndrome, schizophrenia, clinical depression, and other conditions, involving and empowering them to take steps towards managing their own lives. Like Elizabeth Hughes, she speaks from experience as well as research, sharing insights which have helped her weather her own unpredictable emotions.  With the famous twelve-step process for overcoming addiction as a metaphor, she presents surviving these conditions as a process of acceptance mixed with hard and continual work and self-examination.

Jaylan Salah’s introductory chapter to her novel When Lovers are Sinners sets the stage for a long process of self-examination and personal growth. Bored with high school and a series of shallow, immature friendships, Hayam restlessly seeks escape while mourning the death of her mother. Readers will not be surprised later when Hayam risks her social standing to defy convention for love – and ultimately, for personal freedom and self-determination.

Jean Wong and Reuben Rutledge examine physical objects in order to ascertain a deeper understanding of history and personal psychology. Rutledge details the creation, near-destruction, and unearthing of Tibetan Bon Scriptures to present a little-known side of history, while Wong describes telephones and automobiles in search of experiential truth about various stages and processes of life. Rutledge’s work makes ancient Eastern mystics and rulers seem all too human, at times out for political power as much as spiritual enlightenment, and Wong also personifies and gives life to the physical objects in her work as she recreates her subjects through detailed examination.

And, finally, Matthew Felix Sun, usually our painter of alienation, frustration, fear, and totalitarian social control, felt inspired to celebrate life and growth by painting flowers this time. Flowers represent plant reproduction, a step in a long process of growth and development – and we can rejoice with the flowers because they remind us that we, too, are growing and changing, and have hope of evolving beyond our present condition.

Again, welcome to our March issue! Please feel free to comment and let us know if you would like to work together with or mentor/be mentored by anyone in this issue, or if you have any announcements regarding your published work.

Also – in light of the economy, we are working to assist those in search of work, by creating periodic newsletters for our Facebook groups, where we mention the names and backgrounds of those within our magazine community who are seeking employment. Please also comment and let us know if you would like us to drop your name in our next newsletter.

Spring is fast approaching and soon there will be blooming flowers everywhere.  It’s time to celebrate these beautiful creatures.  Berkeley, California artist Matthew Felix Sun ( www.matthewfelixsun.com ) has been drawn to paint flowers time to time and below are samples of his work on this subject over a period of time.  Two of these paintings will be part of the “Spring Garden” March theme show at Artist Xchange Gallery in San Francisco ( http://www.artslant.com/sf/events/show/93469-theme-show-spring-garden ).  The opening reception will be on March 5th, Friday, 7-10 pm.

Daisy by Georgia O'Keefe

Passion of Georgia O’Keefe

How bright the light! Baby sits on pillows,
white and black quilt with flowers and stars.
Dust sparkles warm and soft–I want to eat it
but Mama snatches and squeezes me hard.

I’m going to be an artist, make something beautiful
as the Maid of Athens in Mama’s book
or the Arabs on horseback in Grandmother’s parlor.
An artist can do as she pleases, no one minds.

Have drawn a man tumbling over, am painting
a lighthouse in clouds. Sister with big eyes
doesn’t like my small dark drawing of hands.
Must paint larger and lighter–purple lilacs, yellow corn.

Am disgusted with my work, and am glad.
Must forget everything learned, find the shapes
that are mine. I am the prairie thirsting.
I am the sky changing. I am the wind stirring.

My room is bare and white like a mirror.
In black, hair back, I walk toward the horizon blazing;
scorched, chilled, dust-caked, make my way
along gypsum trail down the mud canyon.

New York! At my easel on the highest story
I gaze upon roofs, trees, cliffs, clouds,
barges, bridges, smokestacks, soot-plumes, steel beams,
skyscraper crowned with chromium needle.

For hours I bathe in the light, as Stieglitz photographs
my hair, eyes, torso, long-fingered hands.
Fold on fold, clean pink, yellow, blue,
from my glass palette I paint the shapes in my mind.

Hipbone, labium, petal, leaf. In the deep green
veins arch apart; a lake settles in the center.
Lily, orchid, iris, rose, magnolia,
Jack-in-the-pulpit, poppy, petunia, trumpetflower.

Oh, the sun! Sweet-smelling desert sage.
After stupor of sadness, sand dunes, mesas,
wide blue space. How my heart races.
Eyes sharpen and soften, skull a flower of bone.

Seven a.m., cool morning, car under cliff,
I turn the car seat and paint. Brown, orange, violet, gray.
Peach slopes cook to red. Clouds boil up black
and thunderous, trampling the slopes to wine.

Climbing the ladder up to the roof–
how big the moon, and soft. Pale silver crawls
over black. Above, the vast dome of stars.
Asleep, I feel the tender fingers of first morning light.

Over my wonderful world the pink and blue dawn
spreads to the snow-capped peak
of Sangre de Cristo, faraway and serene.
Purple asters waken on the shimmering plain.

White Place, hills of ancient lava ash
turreted and spired with gray and red.
Black Place, pink and gold-veined, rollicking elephants
where sea once pounded and dinosaurs fed.

That’s my mountain–Blue Pedernal
where Changing Woman was born. God told me
I could have it, if I painted it enough.
Never good enough, my failures lead me on.

Maria loads on food, logs, water, canvas, the cat.
Car inches along the dry riverbed.
I shovel sand, chop sage, roll away rocks,
paint with my gloves on in the wind.

At forty-five I take what I want–
Ghost Ranch on golden plain. Purple hills,
rotting cedar, light that illumines death.
The world is always at war, atomic lab just miles away.

Empty pelvis. Pelvis bursting with sun.
Winged pelvis with moon. Antler, jaw, sacrum–
the immortal body. Shadows lengthen, colors fade,
I paint alone until dark. I chose my fate.

Stieglitz is gone. Friends go too. Red hills
whiten with snow. Nearer and farther
a large black crow flies over the slope
into clear cold night.

I know what I must paint now–I paint
what I love. Instinct directs me.
Flowers, stones, bones instruct me.
Details are confusing–I observe, select, eliminate,

ruthlessly search for meaning inside things.
Tearing roots from my heart,
arrange in ever broadening light icons, offerings,
blessings that come from, return to life.

That door leads to my paintings. It’s a curse
the way I keep painting it–green, red, from the side,
through the window, in shadow, with clouds, steps,\
snowflakes, leaf drifting by. Now my last door.

Sleeping in the patio on my white bed
I gaze out over Green Valley.
Rocks and horns rest on the wall, patted pink
adobe skin soft against the dusty sky.

Have I gone mad with love? Everything
in my house lives! Listen, they call me
white-haired sorceress. In long black skirt
I stroll with my stick and ferocious chows.

My housekeeper tells me the names
of the colors and passing clouds.
My vision is blurred. Under wrinkled hood
my turquoise eye sees. I work–what else is there?

Sitting still in the sun I’m happy.
The sky is my companion. My spirit moves
in this light. Soon my ashes will sleep in these hills,
as the wind trills on about nothing.

— Janine Canan

Janine Canan is the author of 13 books of poetry, most recently In the Palace of Creation: Selected Works 1969-1999. Her collections, Changing Woman and Star in My forehead: Selected Poems by Else Lasker-Schüler (translations) have received commendation from Book Sense, City Lights Books and Small Press Review. Her writing appears in Awakened Woman, Exquisite Corpse, Kalliope and Wemoon; and in dozens of anthologies including Birnbaum’s She Is Everywhere, Codrescu’s American Poets Say Goodbye to the 20th Century, Cotner’s Pocket Prayers, Harvey’s The Divine Feminine, Muten’s Her Words, Laughlin’s New Directions, Ford-Gabrovsky’s Womanprayers, and Macmillan’s Women Poets of the World .

Canan edited Messages from Amma: In the Language of the Heart (“Best Spiritual Books 2004”); The Rhyme of the Ag-ed Mariness: Last Poems of Lynn Lonidier; and the award-winning anthology, She Rises like the Sun: Invocations of the Goddess by Contemporary American Women Poets. Her stories, Journeys with Justine, illustrated by Cristina Biaggi, and her essays, Goddesses, Goddesses, will be published in 2007.

Janine has taught poetry, and has given many poetry readings in milieu such as the City University of New York, National Poetry Week of San Francisco, Rutgers University, Shakespeare & Co. Paris, the Smithsonian Institute, Stanford University, and the University of California at Berkeley Art Museum, as well as on radio and television.

Born in Los Angeles in 1942, she is a Stanford graduate with distinction, received an MD from NYU School of Medicine in 1976, and is today a practicing psychiatrist in Sonoma, California. She may be contacted through her website. www.janinecanan.com

More of Janine Canan’s work here:

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