revealing the rift – a review of Creative Death

Creative Death, by Jack Foley (Igneus Press, 2023)

Jack Foley, Creative Death (1st Edition) (Buy this book)

Review by deb Ewing

Jack Foley believes that “At the heart of Western poetry is a split, a confusion, a multi-media situation which is never resolved but which remains in a continual, and at times enormously creative, state of tension.” Please take a moment to internalize this.

Poetry’s history begins as an aural/oral art. It’s evolved to include work that cannot be read aloud, or which loses some context in spoken form. What is poetry? Sometimes I say it’s math; almost always I say it’s distillation.

In the process of formatting this manuscript, the author and I had many peripheral conversations. I’m in a position to understand how this book distills a lifetime – or perhaps several – of knowledge in a way that only poetry can do. But remember what Jack said: there’s a tension, unresolvable.

Putting all that together, I realized that I’ve gotta find another way into people’s brains to get my message across. The door through the eyes is closed. And so I started making music.

Peter Harper, artist & songwriter

And yet Jack Foley has taken great care in arranging his words in two dimensions.

Creative Death is many things: it’s a compendium of one man’s lifetime of work; perhaps more importantly, it’s a guidebook on how to find inspiration. Or even how to find mentorship – a part of the creative process that’s too often overlooked.

I’m captivated by Foley’s many references to classic musical works. ‘Pairings 3: History’ gets to the gist of another debate integral to my daily life: poetry vs. song lyrics. I’m still not sure whether or how much Jack Foley and I agree on this topic, but the discussion has been invigorating. Invigoration is crucial to creativity. Crucial. Say that one more time, aloud, please.

The question “who is your audience” is eternal buggery: The answer is a shifting mass which self-identifies like Venn diagrams free to re-evaluate at will and random. I often refer to this populace as “these clowns,” with love and gratitude because I am one of these clowns. What the audience wants, ultimately, is to connect – by connection we mean mirroring – they want to see their own perplexion, maybe hoping we have an answer for them.

In ‘Pairings 3: History”, Bob Zimmerman (Dylan) is frequently held up as an example. 

Bob Dylan, too, was unclear on the delineation between poetry and lyrics: He’s quoted by poets.org as saying, “I can create several orbits that travel and intersect each other and are set up in a metaphysical way.”

However, the best, most straightforward answer may have appeared in the liner notes of his second album, 1963’s The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, where Dylan said, simply: “Anything I can sing, I call a song. Anything I can’t sing, I call a poem.”

poets.org

The visual aspect of Foley’s ‘Pairings’ series juxtaposes poems as a conversation between them.

‘Pairings 3: History’ begins on page 101 of Creative Death by Jack Foley

‘Pairings 3: History’ includes a third portion on the right-hand side of the page: CHIP DEFAA’S THE GEORGE M. COHAN SONGBOOK. Here, Foley again demonstrates his deep knowledge of poetry and music.

This is a sweetly complex piece:  By the end, we’re unsure whether “he” refers to the narrator’s father, or perhaps George M. Cohan, or Chip Deffaa. It’s a perfect example of the obfuscation which allows readers to come to their own conclusions, in other words insert themselves into the narrative – to try it on, and see how it feels.

It can and will be argued that connection, and thence the need to carry words in memory, is the great ‘why’ for both these debates: we want to carry what we hold dear; a cadence is powerful, a melody even more so. Still, some people learn visually and like to turn the page.

Our Venn diagram of audience has created this rift. The tension remains within the poet, the songwriter, the bookmaker: how best to leave the message intact? Anyone looking to placate the muse may find some gentle guidance within these pages.

What is poetry – is it visual? Aural? This is one of many philosophical points made available for discussion in Creative Death. Whether conversations or academic debate, the questions are here, researched, flayed, sliced thinly and placed on slides for observation. Here are eighty years of creative study, packaged for your convenience.

Foley gives several exemplary art, movie, and music reviews in poetic form. His use of enjambment allows for the reader’s thoughts to free-range through and around a topic, sometimes redirected when he suddenly interjects his own direct opinion.

Is there any better way to learn? I frame that as a question; but no, there is not.

Further listening:

Hear Jack Foley interview poet Allen Ginsberg, October 4th, 1996:
Foley interviews Ginsberg, Part One Foley interviews Ginsberg, Part Two

Hear Jack Foley interview Lawrence Ferlinghetti, April 21st, 1994, at City Lights:
Foley interviews Ferlinghetti, Part One Foley interviews Ferlinghetti, Part Two

Golden Week – celebrating the legacy of Peter Kidd, Igneus Press founder

Peter Kidd formed Igneus Press in 1989 to make a home for the poets and polymaths he’d collected, or who’d collected him. William Kemmett and artist James “Deac” De Crescentis are pictured here; composer William Bland, P.J. Laska, and Richard Martin were part of the early formation of Igneus.

dce: Pete was my guru – he would always answer my questions with complete honesty, and then give me a little tidbit to chew on later. Like this bit on agnotology (n.) – the study of deliberate, culturally-induced ignorance:

S.K.: He fought cancer for 6 years, and not just one kind. A few years before he passed away on June 12, 2020, he was undergoing radiation on his neck for thyroid cancer, which involved him laying down flat (extremely painful for him, due to the lesions in his spine caused by multiple myeloma, the primary form of cancer he was fighting) with his head pinned down underneath this mask.

The mask was made as a mold to fit the shape of his head and shoulders. Dad always had claustrophobia, and told many tales of how he spent the time in the machine under this mask ‘fighting the azuras,’ deep in meditation doing war against forces of evil.

Sophia Kidd and her father Peter Kidd

Azuras are a familiar motif throughout Pete’s writing. I was familiar with the Asuras, a class of beings in the lore of India; but Pete always spelled it with a z, connoting rocky formation azure in my mind. I love a good two-fer. So I spelled that way in my poem “constellations” as I processed my grief upon his passing:

but cosmic trajectory, surely
an Azura or two, the exact same
footprints on another plane

-dce 06.13.2020, Annandale

Pictured here is Peter, reading from Richard Martin‘s White Quartet series for a documentary we were filming shortly before Peter’s passing…We’re trying to figure out how to release the footage we have in a cogent form.

In the meantime, here’s a still image of a man in cosmic motion.

dce: I knew Pete since 1997 as an online presence. I met him in person in 2018 in Canyon, Texas. Here’s an excerpt from that tale, which can be found at debnation.com:

Peter Kidd, November 2018, Canyon, TX

Over roast chicken we discussed Bill Bland‘s poetry while his music emanated from the neighbor room. We moved on to David Starobin‘s recordings – these are snippets of Pete’s New England history. I took notes in my sketchbook during dinner conversation. Pete’s given me homework: Black Mountain College, the side-stone in a Japanese garden, so many other things. He took us into the bowels of what currently serves as Igneus Press. Several lifetimes are stacked one against the next, and my storyteller’s mind was overwhelmed with juxtapositions. “Kemmett used to say for twenty years he always kept a noose in the trunk of his car.” Pete reached out and tugged on a rope hanging from the shed’s ceiling. “Here’s mine.” 

This year we’ve registered the business, repaid the website hosting and maintenance bills, rehauled the bookshop, and engaged a fulfilment center to store all the books and fulfil orders made on our website. It’s expensive. Dad left me a little money to do this, but we’re moving through that quickly. We really want to keep the press going. Our small team is willing to do all the work out of the love in our hearts for Dad. But we can’t do this without your help.

Peter Kidd often compared poetry to gardening. A small business is like a garden. It needs to be guided, nourished, protected, directed.

A gentle reminder and plea, as well, for your support of Igneus Press, the small independent poetry press Dad established in 1989. We’ve really jazzed the place up and as a small group of volunteers, we need your support: not donations, but your patronage of the Igneus online bookshop. Order a book or two, bring them into your home, your bosom, your mind, your spirit, and allow these poems to sing out into the world through your own awareness.

Here’s Dad giving the final reading of his life, from his final set of poems.

Sophia wrote on what would have been Peter Kidd’s 74th birthday: “One year ago today, I celebrated Dad’s birthday with the Stone family in Canyon, TX, with homemade chicken soup, pulled pork and a great cake. It was an evening of bliss. Dad was feeling strong, walking around, even bouncing around like a champion. He was writing poetry again and feeling ready to move into the next best phase of his writing.

He had seven days to live.”

Mini-Contemplation 49a:

shot out of my lounger chair

at noon, today, morning after infusion

under the influence of steroids

sharing empathy with baseball players

and why it’s fun to hit all those dingers

– PETER KIDD, 25 JULY 2019