Essences explores the roots of the “haiku movement” in North America
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Essence #3
(part 3)
By Carmen Sterba
Carmen Sterba’s Interview with Cor van den Heuvel
〜Part 3 of 3〜
Carmen Sterba: Does the fact that you read your early haiku in coffee houses cause you to be more dramatic in your readings? Would you like to see haiku read more often with jazz? Or even hip hop?
Cor van den Heuvel: I’m sure the way I read my work, including my haibun and haiku, has been influenced by my early experience in coffee houses. I think the haiku spirit as I usually try to follow it, with the emphasis on simplicity, can be complemented with many of the sounds and rhythms of jazz. It could be used in the period of silence between two haiku or after a passage of prose to introduce a following haiku. I don’t think hip hop would work for me.
C.S.: In understanding the roots of the haiku movement in North America, I hope to include both those who see haiku as poetry and those who see it as a Zen poem or something in between. Since 1999, when the last edition of The Haiku Anthology came out, the numbers of haiku poets have exploded through online groups, online journals, and instant news through blogs. In New York, you had such a tight knit group to meet with and write with from 1971. Do you have any advice for those whose contacts are only through the Internet?
C.V.: Only that examining how the poem means word for word and how it is structured on the page is only a beginning to finding out if it works. Sometimes the poet sees in the words what he wants to see, even if it is not really present in the poem. Getting others’ reactions is very important to finding out if the poem is really suggesting what the poet wants it to suggest. I think it is much easier to find this out in direct face to face contact then going through the web. Not only do you get a more immediate verbal reaction, you also get clues from facial reactions and other body language.
C.S.: I would be interested in how you interpret your one word haiku, “tundra”. Or is that left to the reader?
C.V.: It is what it is: “a level or undulating plain characteristic of arctic or subarctic regions.” The important things are to see it alone in the mind or in the middle of an otherwise blank page and to color it with a season, preferably spring when it is blowing forever with grasses, flowers, birds (with their nests and eggs), and insects; or in winter when it is covered with endless drifted snow. To see the vastness of it spreading out from the word across the page and across the world. And to hear the sound of it. The word.
C.S.: May I have your permission to publish the following four haiku?
C.V.: Yes.
sun
on the saddle-bags
snow in the mountains
[Sun in Skull, 1961 Chant Press]
summer afternoon
the long fly ball to center field
takes its time
[Play Ball, 1999 Red Moon Press]
a tidepool
in a clam shell
the evening sunlight
[Dark, 1982 Chant Press]
after the speeches
the honored dead return
to their silence
[A Boy’s Seasons, 2010]
(To be published this year by Single Island Press; Originally serialized in Modern Haiku in 1993)
❧
Thanks to Cor van den Heuvel for his generous interview!
It is my hope that Essences will become fluid with new voices and continue in a way that will encourage new research into English-language haiku history. To make this happen, I have already chosen my successor for 2011 from another country.
Meanwhile, I will continue with the Sixties and Seventies explosion of journals, and haiku organizations in North America, while highlighting some of the English-language haiku masters. I hope that other poets will join in with anecdotes about these times.
Which haiku poet would you like to interview if you had the chance? What are some of the interviews or articles that you read in haiku print journals or internet journals that have been most valuable in your personal haiku journey?
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Essences began as a column written by Carmen Sterba in the North American Post in Seattle, WA, a bilingual newspaper in Japanese and English. Its purpose is to go back to the roots of the “haiku movement” in North America: the major poets, the individual styles of haiku, the books, the journals and conferences as they evolved from the sixties and seventies onwards. This will be a short version, so feel free to add information and comments as we go along.
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Thank you Lorin, for sharing the maps of your indigenous nations and languages in Australia.
I’ll never forget the opening ceremony for the Olympics in Australia. It started with the history
of your indigenous peoples and it was extremely
powerful!
Our country was first blanketed with a great number of Native American tribes with different languages and still is to a certain extent. Unfortunately most tribes gave up their lands and were relocated.
Our NW coastal tribes made/make long houses out of wood and still fish salmon in the same waters. The motifs for art are focused on fish and birds. ttp://www.google.com/images?client=safari&rls=en-us&q=Coastal+Indian+Art&oe=UTF-8&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=tECATJPkF8L38AaluqHsAQ&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CDUQsAQwAw&biw=1195&bih=765
I looked up some maps in America:
http://www.native-languages.org/states.htm
http://www.native-languages.org/
“What is Australia’s original name?” – Carmen
ah, Carmen, a very Zenny question, indeed.
There is no answer, because there are/ were many languages and each nation/ language group had its own part of country. Not that people stayed in their own country, but there was a system sort of like ‘host/ guest’. Your neighbours held the names of the places and features of their parts of country, so you knew them, but they weren’t yours. We’re talking about a stable culture developed over 40,000 to 60,000 years, based on rights to country.
Perhaps the original name for the whole of the continent was something like ‘the world’ or ‘Earth’ as we use it in English? I doubt it, though.
More likely, the ‘name’ is the sum of all of the parts, the features of country (of which Uluru is one) accounted for one by one, the whole song made up of many, many names, which no one nation has in their keeping. I know that ‘this country’, ‘my country’, ‘my mother’s country’ and ‘my father’s country’ (mother’s and father’s country are different areas) do not refer to the whole, but certain distinct areas. The features of the land are named; the total of these names, belonging to the various nations/ peoples is ‘Australia’ before colonial settlement.
Here’s a map of the many nations:
http://yolngu.net/Copy%20of%20Aus_map_covered_text_lined.jpg
and here’s a map of the languages:
http://www.abc.net.au/indigenous/map/default.htm
Lorin, that is a powerful introduction to Australian culture in your words and the “culture and creation” page of the Australian government site. What is Australia’s original name?
Here in Washington state, Mount Rainier is our Uluru.
It was originally known as Tahoma or Tacoma, from the Puyallup word tacobet, or “mother of waters.”
Thanks, Michael. Yes, I did intend all capitals, mostly because it’s more than a name in our English-language cultural sense and also because it’s a monolith, well, like a monolith. But it’s also the centre and the heart, literally and metaphorically, traditionally. Any traditional painting of it, you’ll see it as the centre of many radiating circles.
The name was officially changed back to what it had been for many thousands of years in the 90′s, but international tourism required that it also be called ‘Ayer’s Rock’ as it had been for a little over 100 years.
We Westerners are different, our connection to country is different, our inherited sense of the sacred is less embodied in every sense (and so is that of Eastern ‘animist’ cultures) to that of these peoples who have inherited the oldest living human culture on earth.
If you get a piece of 3 inch plastic plumbing pipe about 4 feet long, sit down and cover one end with your hands so you can breathe into it through your mouth and say Uluru over and over again until you get a rhythm going, you’ll hear how it should sound in the open space around you. (Do it outside, not in your bathroom) When your breathing and sound becomes right, you’ll hear the radiating circles around you.
http://www.cultureandrecreation.gov.au/articles/indigenous/
Well, that’s a good point, Michael. I think it would work better if the word were placed at the top of the page. I was also thinking that whereas tundra is a very expansive word/image, precipice is just the oppposite, a quite contractive word/experience.
Yes, I think you’re right, Jack. Being on a precipice would make you aware of the space below. However, that’s why it doesn’t quite work as strongly for me if the poem were in the middle of an otherwise blank page, because the space you’re most aware of on a precipice is below you. Should “precipice” therefore be at the top of the page? What if it were at the bottom? Putting it in the middle of the page seems not quite right.
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