Clifford Garstang's Blog, page 141

Last Day at VCCA

Today is the last full day at VCCA and I think about half the remaining residents leave today. The rest of us are here all day and will be leaving tomorrow as the place shuts down for Christmas. (VCCA will reopen on 12/28 with the arrival of a boatload of artists who will have the pleasure of welcoming the New Year in this wonderful environment.)

Yesterday was a day of presentations. In the afternoon, several visual artists opened their studios to visitors, so I got to see what they've been working on here: Joanna Kao, Kim Manfredi, Yvonne Kunz. That was fun--I always love to see what the visual artists are up to.

In the evening, Gyun Hur showed some slides of her work, which is very much influenced by her Korean heritage. And writer Michele Surat read some poems that also in part reflected her cultural background, and so that made a nice match.

I tried to do a little work after that, but at 10pm there was a party in Sam Taylor's studio--W5 (the Crib)--and I wanted to stop by there before I called it night. The party was in celebration of the eclipse, the solstice, and the end of the residency. Fun, loud, but I couldn't stay up for the eclipse.

Now, instead of blogging, I really ought to get some work done.

Sunday night at VCCA

It's very near the end of my residency (VCCA shuts down for Christmas on the 22nd) and it seems as though we've had a busy few days.

A few nights ago, Fern Seiden gave a presentation in the studio--a short film called "Air Intoxication" that she made for Swedish Television. The film was full of great images, some of which she got from the Swedish Television archives.

Last night we had a short reading by Janie Miller and Ruiyan Xu. Janie read some poems, including several that she's been working on here at VCCA, and Ruiyan read from her novel, The Lost and Forgotten Languages of Shanghai.

On Thursday night we heard two short essays read by Lori Horvitz--here's an example, although this isn't what she read: The Girls of Usually. And we also heard several poems from Rachel Hadas. That was especially fun because one of the poems she read is in the anthology I teach from and I plan to add it to my syllabus for next semester.

But now it is Sunday night and because we all leave on Wednesday we had a final reading tonight: Kristen-Paige Madonia read from her as-yet untitled novel, due out in 2012, and Natania Rosenfeld read several short poems and a short essay. Nice!

And now I'm back at work. I think that was the last reading--several of the visual artists are having open studios tomorrow afternoon . . .

The New Yorker: "Young Thing" by Naruddin Farah

Farah has a new novel coming out in 2011 and it sounds like this "story" is an excerpt from that. See this description of Crossbones 
In any event, this piece is about a young Somali who gets involved with a militia and sets out to do their bidding. He's a kid, though, and that makes it difficult—carrying the weapons, remembering the instructions, following orders. As a result of these problems there is a mixup, and YoungThing brings his leaders—BigBeard, TruthTeller, and FootSoldier—into the wrong house, which happens to be occupied by a renter who happens to be a Somali visiting from Virginia. It doesn't turn out well, but that's all I'll say about the plot because anything else would spoil it.
This piece almost works as a story and the writing is vivid (Think Flannery O'Connor in Somalia . . .). The thoughts and speech of YoungThing seem right on and it's a completely suspenseful, compelling read.
December 13, 2010: "YoungThing" by Naruddin Farah

Wednesday already?

Wednesday already? It seems like it's been a busy few days here at VCCA. On Monday I had to dash back to the Valley to school to give an "exam" (not really an exam, but we are required to have a final class) and also to be examined (I'm taking French). I'd been worried about weather, but there was just some very light snow, although very high winds especially crossing Afton Mountain. Il y a du vent.
I got back shortly before dinner, and after dinner we had a presentation by poet John Wesley Horton and biographer Joshua Kendall (whose biography of Noah Webster is coming out in April). I was tired from the driving and examining so, although I went back out to my studio after the presentations I didn't get much done.


I did get a fair amount done on Tuesday. At lunch, one of the visual artists, Scott Finch opened his studio and it was fun to take a look at his work (yo-yo's, hula hoops, death). (I forgot to mention earlier that last week Alexandra Rozenman had done the same. A group open-studio session is planned for next Monday.) Tuesday evening we had another reading. This time we heard from poet Laura Apol, who read a number of very moving poems about some work she's been doing in Rwanda, and prose-writer Daniel Meltzer who read a couple of funny pieces.

A couple of people are leaving today, but a few more arrive . . . which is the nature of such colonies.

Sunday at VCCA

I arrived at VCCA on Thursday, got settled into my room and studio, and began to work. I had some papers to grade, but got those out of the way fairly quickly, and then dived into my novel edits. I'm in Studio W2—the same studio I was in this time last year.
It seems as though there are more fellows in residence this time, and that might be the case—they've now opened both spaces in the remodeled cottage and there are 2 writers in there, so we're at least 25 or so—a nice group. Quite a few familiar faces, too, from real life in Charlottesville and also from past residencies.So, mostly, I've been working. But there was one presentation on my first night, by Serge Levy. He showed slides of his work, including a series of his "street photography" and also some images—self portraits—that he's manipulated. Beautiful stuff.
And then last night we had a presentation by the only composer in residence, Michael Remson. Michael writes operas, songs, and choral work, and played a little of each for us. It's pretty incredible stuff. I'm always blown away by the composers here because what they do seems so very foreign to me, like they're speaking a different language. A beautiful language, but one that I don't understand.
It's raining today. I've been taking walks in the woods each afternoon, but not today. We're all going over to Sweetbriar College for dinner this evening and tomorrow I have to head back to the Valley for finals at Blue Ridge Community College. But there's snow in the forecast and I'm worried about that. Keeping an eye on the weather . . .

VCCA-bound

Headed to VCCA today. That's about all I have to say about that. Sporadic blogging ahead.[image error]

Prime Number Magazine--update 3.5

It's a little earlier than planned, but I'm heading off to VCCA today, so thought I'd unleash the good words: Prime Decimals 3.5 is now live, including poetry by Dennis Mahagin, Timothy Black, and Frankie Drayus, plus flash fiction by Buzz Mauro and Terry DeHart. I think you'll enjoy!

And, in case you've missed it, be sure to check all the other fine work in Prime Number Magazine Issue 3![image error]

The New Yorker--pay to play?

Reader Andy suggested I create a post where readers could give feedback on the new policy at The New Yorker to limit access to most fiction to paying subscribers. (Thanks for the idea, Andy.) For the past several years, almost all fiction was available for free online. Now, most stories are closed and only subscribers with access to the "digital edition" can read them. I'm a subscriber, so the only thing that annoys me is that the magazine has been coming irregularly lately.

What are your thoughts on this? Does it make you want to subscribe? Given that many seem to think that the quality of New Yorker fiction has deteriorated, I'm not sure that the policy will help subscriptions. But maybe I'm wrong.

Thoughts?[image error]

The New Yorker: "Costello" by Jim Gavin

This is late, again, because my copy of the magazine is late, again, and I kept putting off reading the online version because I don't like to read long stories online, and this is a long one. (And by online I mean in the digital version of the magazine, since this story is not available online to non-subscribers.) (Although you can't read the story online if you're not a subscriber, you can read Deborah Treisman's interview with Gavin: This Week in Fiction: Jim Gavin.)
Too bad, because it's very readable. In fact, it's worthy of the Best of the Year list, which I'll post in a week or so.
Costello—Marty—is a plumbing salesman in Anaheim. He's got two daughters, one just out of college and the other in college. He lives in a nice ranch house next door to another plumber. He's sixty, a veteran, and life hasn't always been easy, especially given the ups and downs of the housing market in LA. But he's good at what he does and right now he's up for an award that will be given at a banquet that is really just a drunken mess. (Must have been fun to write the scenes with the drunk plumbers playing polo golf.)
Oh, yeah, and his wife is dead. Except we don't know that right away. We find out fairly soon that she's gone, but it takes a while to learn why. The neighbors invite him over for dinner, but he makes an excuse and stays in to watch the Dodgers on TV. (He doesn't drink much, but he eats a lot of really bad food, and he does that while watching TV, too.) But finally it is revealed that his wife died of cancer and his daughters are trying to help pull him out of the shell that he's been in since she died.
There are five other strands to the story that are quite interesting. First, Marty is interested in water, sailing ships, and the ocean. Was he in the Navy? He has a copy of Moby Dick and uses various sailing terms in his thoughts and speech. Second, Marty has a pool. Now, the pool obviously is related to his interest in the water, but it also is connected to his wife, who chose the tile and also insisted on an extra-deep deep end. The pool now is scummy and green because Marty hasn't been taking care of it. Third, there's a lizard at the bottom of the pool, which prompts a recurring discussion of lizards. Fourth, Marty's dealing with some faulty plumbing products that have caused a problem in the business. And Fifth, there's Francine, "the parish retard," who keeps coming to the house even though Marty's wife, whom she used to visit is gone.
Eventually it becomes clear that the reason Francine is coming by is to get the wife's jewelry that she was promised. She takes it and leaves, and maybe Marty is now letting go a little. He agrees to go out to dinner with her daughters and he settles on a visit to Catalina Island for this event—a sailing voyage, of sorts, that also represents his coming out. He doesn't win his award, apparently because of the defective plumbing, but he gets public praise and seems satisfied. And then, finally, there's the pool, which he cleans up with chemicals and at long last removes the lizard—the wife's cancer?—from the pool. (In the story he tosses the lizard over the neighbor's fence and hears it land in his pool, and I didn't like that ending. It's as if he's cursing his nice neighbors!)
Except for that last line, it's a terrific story.
December 6, 2010: "Costello" by Jim Gavin[image error]

Sunday night miscellany

I've been busy. The semester is winding down, which means my students are writing research papers and I'm preparing to grade them. I'm also making preparations to head to VCCA for a couple of weeks, although I'm really less prepared than I've ever been. I guess I'm going to get there and work as hard as I can trying to get my novel into shape to send to my agent after the first of the year. Maybe I don't need much planning for that.

I've also been trying to get caught up and ahead on my Prime Number Magazine work. I've taken care of much of the contracting for the fiction through the issue that will go up in January and have also done the layout for the update that will go live this week. And I'm caught up with reading submissions of fiction (so please send us more!).

The big project around the house, which I guess I won't finish before I leave, is reorganizing the bookshelves. Just fiction, for now, but that's a huge task. Because of space constraints, I had allowed two separate alphabetical collections to grow (the second starting when I got some new, free-standing shelves but didn't take the time to integrate the new books with the collection in the built-ins). On top of that there were piles in my office and the guest room. No more. Integrating, shifting, relocating. I'm feeling good about that.

Northwestern is in a bowl game for the third straight year. It's the TicketCity Bowl in Dallas on January 1. Not exactly the Rose Bowl, but it's still important for the program, and maybe we've got a chance to win it.

The Summer/Fall season at the American Shakespeare Center wrapped up last week. There were some great shows--the highlight being Henry IV Part 2. Now we've moved on to the holiday season, with three shows (usually they do just two) PLUS previews of the Touring Company's Spring Season. I may miss the previews, since I'll see those shows in the Spring, but I'd like to see the holiday shows. So Friday night I went to Ginna Hoben's The Twelve Dates of Christmas. Ginna wrote and stars in the one woman show--very funny and very well done. They're also doing A Christmas Carol (with John Harrell again as Scrooge) and Santaland Diaries (with Rick Blunt), but I'll have to catch those when I get back if I can. I definitely want to--Harrell is a terrific actor and Blunt is hilarious.[image error]