My warmest thanks to SISCA President Augusta (Gigi) Pines and Secretary Windy Goodloe for so generously receiving me in Brackettville, taking the time to show me around, and all through the museum, and to so patiently answer my many questions. They urged me to carefully read Jeff Guinn’s Our Land Before We Die: The Proud Story of the Seminole Negro, which I found to be most excellent advice, for it is not only deeply-researched but splendidly well-written, a genuine pleasure to read. My thanks to Rocío Gil for her welcome in Brackettville and copy of her paper. And thanks to Doug Sivad, who provided a copy of his book, with its wealth of personal recollections and photographs. I found J.B. Bird’s www.johnhorse.com an invaluable resource. Chris Hale generously went through my first draft of this essay with his eagle legal eye, catching many errors and making numerous suggestions for which I am especially grateful. (I am of course responsible for any errors that may remain.) Thanks to my readers Cecilia Autrique and Sara Mansfield Taber for their critique and encouragement, as well. And finally, my thanks to Bruce A. Glasrud, for the prompt I needed to find my way into telling this multi-faceted, transnational story that covers thousands of miles and no less than five wars.
Windy Goodloe, Augusta Pines, and Rocío Gil in Brackettville, Texas.
The Marfa Mondays Podcasting Project is a projected 24 podcasts apropos of my book in-process on Far West Texas. Most are interviews; a few are readings of my essays. Some of this material will appear in my book, some of it will not. We’ll see.
P.S. If you’d like to be alerted when the next Marfa Mondays podcast is live, just send me an email and I’ll add you to my mailing list.
This blog posts on Mondays. As of 2019 the second Monday of the month is devoted to myworkshop students and anyone else interested in creative writing. You can find my workshop schedule and many more resources for writers on my workshop page.
We have a ways to go still, but the end of the corona virus shut-down is on the horizon! In that out-and-about spirit, here is a post with some of my favorite writing exercises for making good use of your time in airports, train stations, and more.
Five 2 Word Exercises for Practicing Seeing as a Literary Artist in the Airport (or the Mall or the Train Station or the University Campus or the Car Wash, etc.)
Originally posted on Madam Mayo blog, October 10, 2016
Wherever there be a parade of people, there’s an opportunity for a writerly exercise. This is a quick and easy one, or rather, five. The idea is to look– using your artist’s eye, really look at individuals and come up with two words (or 3 or 4 or 7) to describe them.
Yep, it is that easy.
It helps to write the words down, but just saying them silently to yourself is fine, too. The point is to train your brain to pay attention to detail and generate original descriptions. This helps your writing reach beyond stereotypes (e.g., she was a short Asian woman or, he was a tall black man, or she was a blonde— and other such staples of workshop manuscripts) and so offer your reader something more original, more memorable, and definitively more vivid. “The vivid dream,” that’s what it’s all about.
So, there you are in the airport and, as some random person walks by:
1. Come up with one word to describe the shape of this person’s hair; a second word (or two) for the color of his or her shoes, naming a food item of that same color. For example:
knife-like; chocolate pudding
Now I have the raw material to string together a brief but extra-vivid description, for example:
She wore a knife-like bob and slippers the color of chocolate pudding
Again, find one word for the shape of the hair, and one word for the color of the shoes, referring to a food item.
curve; pork sausages
His head was a curve of curls and he wore pinkish clogs, a pink that made me think of pork sausages
sumptuous; cinnamon candy
She had a sumptuous Afro and sandals the red of cinnamon candy
stubbly; skinned trout
He had stubbly hair and tennis shoes the beige-white of skinned trout.
(Is “stubbly” a shape? Oh well! Don’t tell anybody.)
By the way, it doesn’t matter if the words you come up with are any good or even apt; the point is to practice coming up with them. (Why the color of a food item for the color of the shoes? Welllll, why not? Make it the color of some sand or rock, whydoncha.)
2. Is this person carrying anything? If so, describe it with one adjective plus one noun, e.g.:
fat purse
She carried a fat purse
lumpy briefcase
He leaned slightly to the left from the weight of a lumpy briefcase
crumpled bag
She clutched a crumpled bag
Dixie cup
On his palm he balanced a Dixie cup
3. Gait and gaze
loping; fixed to the ground
He had a loping gait, eyes fixed to the ground
shuffling; bright
She had a shuffling gait but bright eyes
brisk; dreamy
Her walk was brisk, her gaze dreamy.
tiptoe; squinting
She seemed to tiptoe, she was squinting at the monitor
4. Age range
older than 10, younger than 14
perhaps older than 20
I would believe 112
obviously in her seventies, never mind the taut smile
5. Jewelry?Tattoos?
a gold watch; a silver skull ring
feather earrings; a toe ring
eyebrow stud; hoop earrings
a wedding band on the wrong finger; an elephant hair bracelet
a tattoo of a bracelet
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When you sit down to write you certainly do not need to use all this detail; again, the point is to generate it in the first place.
So with the benefit of this wild mélange, here’s what I came up with for a fictional character:
She wore a knife-like bob and slippers the color of chocolate pudding. She carried a fat purse. Her walk was brisk, her gaze dreamy. Perhaps she was older than twenty. She had a wedding band on the wrong finger and an elephant hair bracelet.
Hmmm, maybe that’s the opening for a story. Or something.
By the way, if you’re stuck standing around in an airport, or some such place / situation, these little exercises, silly as they may seem, are better for your writing game than ye olde pulling out the smartphone. The former trains your brain to do what a writer naturally does. Scrolling and clicking gives you the shallows, and so makes writing increasingly difficult.
After a battle with brain cancer, my dear amigo Bill Gruben has passed onto new and surely most wondrous adventures. He had such a good heart and a brilliant, wildly whimsical sense of humor. I will miss him more than I can say.
I met Bill some 30 years ago when I was working as an economist in Mexico City and he as an economist with the Dallas Fed. New flash: Not all economists are just economists! Bill, who spoke fluent Spanish and knew more about Mexico than most Mexicans, had written jokes for Joan Rivers and Phyllis Diller and published some of his brilliant comedic essays about Texas in no less a venue than The Atlantic Monthly. I was then already writing poems and short stories, and translating Mexican poetry. Later, when I got the notion to publish Tameme, a bilingual literary journal that brought together writers and poets from Canada, the US, and Mexico in bilingual English/ Spanish format, I asked Bill if he would contribute something to the first issue. I was immensely honored and quite tickled when he sent me “Animals in the Arts in Texas.” It was translated into Spanish by the splendid Mexican poet and novelist Agustín Cadena. In Bill’s memory, herewith that piece from Tameme, originally published in 1999:
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From the Dallas Morning News, March 29, 2020: William Charles Gruben III died peacefully at his Dallas home on Tuesday, March 17th, 2020, at the age of 76, due to complications from an inoperable glioblastoma. Husband, father, economist, polymath, polyglot, musician, humorist, prankster, Bill was a classical thinker, a Medieval scholastic, a Renaissance man, a modern theorist, a postmodern ironist, and, above all else, a true soul of The Enlightenment, in that his whole life was a determined, joyous pursuit of knowledge fueled by the power of human reason and an endless supply of jokes.
Born on September 29th, 1943 in Sacramento, California, Bill was a conscientious and devoted older brother (one not above launching a younger sibling down the occasional laundry chute) during a childhood of multiple family moves: from Illinois to rural Texas, San Antonio, Houston (where he swam the bayous, alligators included) and suburban Dallas. He was an enthusiastic cadet in the Junior Yanks in the mid-50’s, and spent a few weeks every summer at his grandparents’ cotton farm in West Texas. As a high school student he mastered the guitar and the trombone, earning spending money gigging with a Dixieland band. Later in life, he learned to play a mean and somewhat soulful didgeridoo.
A graduate of Richardson High School, SMU, and The University of Texas, where he earned a doctorate in economics, Bill’s working life was a paradox. He spent the better part of his career at The Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas, where he specialized in practical applications of economic theory and the then emerging Mexican and Latin American markets, and where he co-created The Center for Latin American Economics. But Bill’s relationship to “The Dismal Science” was anything but. He understood that at the root of economic study was both the human and the quite-possibly marvelous: that economies were more than diminishing marginal return curves and income elasticity, but places where our desires and dreams collide with reality in all kinds of fascinating and exhilarating ways. An inspiration to colleagues and mentees alike, Bill’s favorite rejoinder while crunching data or preparing a paper or presentation was always, “Do you believe we get paid to do this?!” followed by another one of his brilliant one-liners. For, much as he found joy in Peso stabilization forecasts and comparative GDP analyses, Bill Gruben found hilarity in everything else.
In the 1970s, he, along with his brother, wrote, produced, and hosted a 30 minute comedy show on KCHU called “Dallas Arcade.” In the 80s, he published pieces in The Atlantic that satirized the excesses of oil-boom Texas. He wrote jokes for Joan Rivers, who used some on The Tonight Show, and for Phyllis Diller, who tried to persuade him to dump economics, move to Hollywood, and write comedy full time. Bill Gruben was too good an economist to take her suggestion. But he was terribly flattered.
Upon his retirement from The Dallas Fed, Bill spent his time among homes in Dallas, Laredo, and Monterrey, Mexico. From 2008-2014, at Texas A&M International University, he was Director of the Ph.D. Program in International Business at the University’s A.R. Sanchez, Jr. School of Business, and a Radcliffe Killam Distinguished Professor of Economics; from 2013-14, he directed The Center for Western Hemispheric Trade.
Upon his second retirement, Bill transferred his creative energies from the literary to the visual arts. His last series of canvasses depict the suffering of narcos tormented by comically enraged demons. And even this past January, when he struggled to walk and eat, he insisted on going to Fort Worth to see the Renoir show. He spent two hours on his feet looking at every painting.
Bill is preceded in death by father WIlliam Charles Gruben II, mother Virginia Dorothy Anderson Gruben, and wife, the artist Marilu Flores Gruben. Bill is survived by beloved spouse Nieves Mogas, daughters Adrienne Gruben, a film executive and documentarian, and Anna Gruben Olivier de Vezin, a non-profit director, sons-in-law David Goldstein, a technical director for live broadcast events, and Charles Olivier de Vezin, a screenwriter and film editor, grandchildren Maria Francisca Goldstein and Manel Olivier de Vezin, sister Patricia Gruben, brother Roger Gruben, and a host of adoring nieces, nephews, and cousins. The family expresses its deep gratitude to caregivers Penelope Clayton-Smith, Dario Delgado, and Frank Aven. Due to the coronavirus pandemic, services are on hold, but there will be a virtual service in mid April.
In lieu of flowers, the family welcomes contributions in Bill’s name to The Latin American and Caribbean Economic Association or to El Instituto de Atención Integral Discapacitado Retos, A.B.P.
My writing assistants Uliberto Quetzalpugtl and Washingtoniana Quetzalpugalotl snoofling at the mysteries.
For those interested in my publications, podcasts, and writing workshops, after a loooooong hiatus, I am resuming the newsletter, herewith commencing a new schedule of posting it on Madam Mayo blog every fifth Monday of the month (when there is a fifth Monday, that is to say, a few times a year).
I will also be sending out the newsletter to subscribers via email. If you would like to receive only the emailed newsletter, just zap me an email, I’ll be delighted to add you to my list. (If you’ve already signed up, stay tuned. I’ve had to switch my emailing service from Mailchimp to Mad Mimi, a bit of a process. Long story short, I give Mailchimp a black banana. Mashed in the noggin!)
If in addition or instead you’d like to sign up for the Madam Mayo blog post alerts every Monday via email, just hie on over to the sidebar (or, if you’re on an iphone, scroll down to the end of this post) for the signup. Welcome!
PODCASTS
“WORDS ON A WIRE”: Award-winning writer and Chair of the UTEP Creative Writing Department Daniel Chacón interviews me about my book Metaphysical Odyssey into the Mexican Revolution: Francisco I. Madero and His Secret Book, Spiritist Manual (which includes my translation of Madero’s 1911 book). This interview with Daniel Chacón was a special honor and delight for me because while my book is a work of scholarship, it is at the same time a work of creative nonfiction. It turned out to be a very fun interview, if I do say myself. >> Listen in anytime here.
Still in production, but allllllllmost ready: The MARFA MONDAYS Podcasting Project resumes with #21: a reading of my longform essay “Miss Charles Emily Wilson: Great Power in One.” Researching and writing this rearranged all the furniture in my mind about Texas, the US-Mexico border, Florida, the Indian Wars, and much more… Miss Charles is someone everyone should know about.
My gosh, it’s unsettling to read a story I wrote so long ago (maybe 1993 or 1994?). And “Majesty” is a strange story, and stranger still to be rereading in this age of the iPhone. It’s set in an Arizona luxury golf resort / spa in the late 1980s / early 1990s–another world, so to say, and on multiple levels. I recall the fun I had playing with the Alice in Wonderland imagery– I had recently been introduced by Douglas Glover to the German novel The Quest for Christa T. and the idea of the story as a net, an important influence on my fiction writing ever since.
Get your copy from all the usual suspects, including amazon.com
GIVAL PRESS POETRY AWARD CONTEST JUDGEDBY YOURS TRULY
Back in January, as the winner of the most recent Gival Press Poetry Award (for Meteor), I selected the winner for this year from an excellent batch of anonymous manuscripts. Here’s the press release from Gival Press:
February 6, 2020 For Immediate Release Contact: Robert L. Giron
(Arlington, VA) Gival Press is pleased to announce that Matthew Pennock has won the Gival Press Poetry Award for his collected titled The Miracle Machine. The collection was chosen by judge C.M. Mayo. The award has a cash prize of $1,000.00 and the collection will be published this fall.
“With a craftsman’s deftest precision and a thunder-powered imagination on DaVinci wings, the author recreates a lost world within a lost world that yet—when we look—shimmers with life within our world. Elegant, wondrously strange, The Miracle Machineis at once an elegy and a celebration, tick-tock of the tao.” —C.M. Mayo, author of Meteor
About the Author
Matthew Pennock is the author of Sudden Dog (Alice James Books, 2012), which won the Kinereth-Gensler Award. As per the terms of that award, he joined the board of Alice James Books in 2011, In 2014, he co-created AJB’s editorial board with executive editor Carey Salerno, and then became the board’s first chairperson, a position he held until 2020. He received his MFA from Columbia University and his PhD from the University of Cincinnati. His poems have been widely published in such journals as Gulf Coast, Denver Quarterly, Western Humanities Review, Guernica: A Magazine of Art and Politics, New York Quarterly, LIT, and elsewhere. He currently owns and operates a learning center outside of Washington, D.C.
I am working on a book so I have no workshops yet scheduled for 2020. For my students, and anyone else interested in creative writing, I will continue to post on some aspect of craft and/or creative process here at Madam Mayo blog on the second Monday of the month.
> View the archive of Madam Mayo workshop posts here.
Meanwhile, I’m putting together a new workshop on applying poetic techniques to fiction and creative nonfiction… More news about that in the next newsletter.
Clifford Garstang, who did a Q & A for this blog in 2019, has posted his annual Literary Magazine rankings. Dear writerly readers looking to publish, while of course his, mine, yours, or anyone’s rankings of literary magazines are subject to debate, take this as a valuable and free resource!
Speaking of publishing, that usually involves a heaping helping of rejections. Well, I say, micro freaking deal! Rev that sense of humor! Need some assistance in that department? Here’s what Jia Jiang learned from 100 days of rejection:
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There’s more to Mexico than beaches & pyramids & Frida chunches… (Chunches: That’s Mexican for tchotchkes. Not to be confused with Ughyur raisin-drying facilities.) For anyone interested in the rich cultural heritage of Mexico, check out Richard Perry’s long-ongoing blog, Arts of Colonial Mexico. Richard writes: “For the New Year, we plan to highlight monuments and art works in Oaxaca and Yucatan as well as in Guanajuato, Puebla and Tlaxcala.”
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An email from Danuta E. Kosk-Kosicka, editor of Loch Raven Review:
Dear Fellow Translators,
I want to spread the word about Loch Raven Review’s role in showcasing poetry translated from a variety of languages, featuring as a rule one language per each issue’s bilingual section. Since 2011, when I accepted the responsibility of the Poetry Translations Editor, Loch Raven Review has featured 21 sections of poetry in translation. I’ve compiled a list of all the sections, starting with the Spanish language, followed by the expected and unexpected languages, such as Catalan, Mayan or Kurdish, at http://danutakk.wordpress.com/loch-raven-review/
I’ve made it a point to engage local area translators, starting with Yvette Neisser and Patricia Bejarano Fisher, then Nancy Naomi Carlson, Barbara Goldberg, Katherine E. Young, Nancy Arbuthnot, Zeina Azzam, and then Zackary Sholem Berger, Xuhua Lucia Liang, and Maritza Rivera in the most recent LRR Volume 15, No. 2, 2019.
Starting in 2018 we have nominated four translations for the Pushcart Award.
I feel proud and happy to be able to bring together poets who write in such a variety of languages, and the translators who make the poems available to the English language readers.
Wishing you all a peaceful, creative, and joyful 2020,
Danka
Danuta E. Kosk-Kosicka
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Emma Lawton on “What Parkinson’s Taught Me”:
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There is nothing you cannot do! Says Tao Porchon-Lynch, the world’s oldest yoga teacher– who recently passed away at 101. She made 98 look like 18. Bless you, Tao.
Widely-lauded novelist Joanna Hershon’s latest, which is scheduled to launch this April from Farrar, Straus & Giroux– just when the brick-and-mortar bookstores will be reopening, one hopes!–promises to be an all-star book club pick. Here’s the catalog copy:
Over the course of a weekend, two couples reckon with the long-hidden secrets that have shaped their families, in a charged, poignant novel of motherhood and friendship.
It’s the end of summer when we meet Sarah, the end of summer and the middle of her life, the middle of her career (she hopes it’s not the end), the middle of her marriage (recently repaired). And despite the years that have passed since she last saw her daughter, she is still very much in the middle of figuring out what happened to Leda, what role she played, and how she will let that loss affect the rest of her life.
Enter a mysterious stranger on a train, an older man taking the subway to Brooklyn who sees right into her. Then a mugging, her phone stolen, and with it any last connection to Leda. And then an invitation, friends from the past and a weekend in the country with their new, unexpected baby.
Over the course of three hot September days, the two couples try to reconnect. Events that have been set in motion, circumstances and feelings kept hidden, rise to the surface, forcing each to ask not just how they ended up where they are, but how they ended up who they are.
Unwinding like a suspense novel, Joanna Hershon’s St. Ivo is a powerful investigation into the meaning of choice and family, whether we ever know the people closest to us, and how, when someone goes missing from our lives, we can ever let them go.
Buy the book from all the usual online booksellers, including amazon and your local independent bookstore via indiebound.org
JOANNA HERSHON: The original inspiration was something I experienced on the subway in NYC, where I live. A man began talking to me and something about the conversation was strange and felt almost other-worldly. Another inspiration was a conversation with my husband, who observed that what I was actually interested in was not a more straightforward thriller (which I had originally thought I’d wanted to write) and more along the lines of what he observed I was good at, which is creating suspense and human drama out of tense but ordinary situations.
C.M. MAYO:As you were writing St. Ivo did you have in mind an ideal reader?
JOANNA HERSHON: I have to admit that I never think that way, though I do feel in conversation with forces outside of myself. I think the ideal reader is someone who really engages with a book. Reading is such a private experience, and one can never predict what a reader’s experience will be. I love the mystery of this notion.
C.M. MAYO:And can you describe the ideal reader for St. Ivo as you see him or her now?
JOANNA HERSHON: I think my ideal reader is anyone—male or female—who is interested in relationships, who has loved deeply, who has an interest in platonic, parental and/or romantic love.
C.M. MAYO:Can you talk about which writers have been the most important influences for you?
JOANNA HERSHON: Different writers have come into my life and different moments. Off the top of my head and in no particular order: Leo Tolstoy, Phillip Roth, Michael Cunningham, Grace Paley, Helen Schulman, Jennifer Egan, Susanna Moore, Mona Simpson, Evan S. Connell, Scott Spencer, Wallace Stegner.
C.M. MAYO:Which writers are you reading now?
JOANNA HERSHON: I’m responding to this in the midst of the Corona virus, when I am especially atuned to books which—like mine—are being affected by this awful time. Phyllis Grant’s unique and gorgeous memoir Everything is Under Control is a gem of a book with excellent recipes. Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings is a book of sharp and powerful essays reflecting on the Asian American experience.
C.M. MAYO:How has the Digital Revolution affected your writing? Specifically, has it become more challenging to stay focused with the siren calls of email, texting, blogs, online newspapers and magazines, social media, and such? If so, do you have some tips and tricks you might be able to share?
JOANNA HERSHON: I imagine that, like most people, I’m more distracted with social media, texting and email but I still do feel like when I’m writing… I’m writing, just like I always did before the internet existed. Part of what I love and crave about writing fiction is that it’s a process that feels timeless and part of my essential self.
C.M. MAYO:Another question apropos of the Digital Revolution. At what point, if any, were you working on paper? Was working on paper necessary for you, or problematic?
JOANNA HERSHON: I certainly wrote on paper for many years until the Microsoft Word option of cutting and pasting became such an integral part of my writing. I still prefer to read manuscripts on paper and to use a pencil to mark them up. More and more though, I use Track Changes in Word and write notes and edit with that program in order to save paper for environmental reasons and also because it’s easy and can be very helpful.
C.M. MAYO:What is the most important piece of advice you would offer to another writer who is just starting out? And, if you could travel back in time, to your own thirty year-old self?
JOANNA HERSHON: Read as much as possible. Carve out time to read and to be silent. Also, move through the world open to mystery and strangeness and meaning. When you walk, when you observe, take in the details and pay attention to what you recall, even if it seems meaningless. There’s usually something worth noting if it stays. As for my thirty year old self: I was writing a LOT when I was thirty, so I think I’d probably say to keep going, but maybe to also travel more before having children.
“Read as much as possible. Carve out time to read and to be silent. Also, move through the world open to mystery and strangeness and meaning.”
C.M. MAYO:What’s next for you?
JOANNA HERSHON: I am really not sure. Due to the Corona Virus, I am currently in social isolation in Brooklyn with my family. My kids will begin remote learning in about two weeks. My novel is about to be published. I’d thought I’d be touring and going to book groups and book stores all spring and now I am mostly cooking and cleaning and entertaining my five-year-old. I hope to connect with readers more and more online. It’s hard to imagine that I won’t start another novel and hopefully soon. I have written novels for my entire adult life and it feels like an inextricable part of me.
In this age of Instagram and Tripadvisor & etc. etc. etc. it would seem that increasingly fewer people have the interest, never mind the attentional focus, for literary travel memoir. But readers of this genre were always a tiny minority of the general population. I say, on this planet of billions of people, there will always be a good number of people who read, and read insatiably, seriously, broadly, and deeply. Ergo, we can be sure that someone somewhere will be writing something about someplace, and some number of these works, however small, will undoubtedly be read by some intelligent and thoughtful someone.
I write literary travel memoir and, on occasion, I teach a workshop on that genre, so when, as part of my reading for my book in-progress on Far West Texas, I came across cultural historian David M. Wrobel’s superb Global West, American Frontier, apart from its helping me get my mind around “Texas,” I felt moved to make a few notes on what he has to say about this oft-undervalued literary genre. Dear writerly reader, may you may find these quotes as heartening as I did.
“The travel book remained a key genre throughout the twentieth century, and still is today. In the early twenty-first century, when it is possible to fly to nearly anywhere in the world within a day and to travel virtually anywhere via the Internet, a quaint, old-fashioned printed companion remains surprisingly popular. A distinctive hybrid of the fiction and nonfiction forms, of reflection and reportage, of anthropology, history, and literature, still serves as an essential accompaniment for actual travel or provides core background reading for a journey.” (pp. 5-6)
“The truly gifted and valuable travel writers are, I would venture, the ones who come to realize that they are not just traveling through other landscapes but through the landscapes of other people’s lives; they are visitors who care to learn what a place means to the people who live there.” (p.13)
“[T]he travel narrative form has remained an important guide to western America even as new technological developments have compressed space and rendered the most faraway places more readily accessible. For this reason, the travel book can be deemed an unlikely survivor in the digital age.” (p.17)
“The travel book lives on, oblivious to the assumption that its time should long since have passed.” (p.187)
“The real authenticity or value of the genre surely lies in the expansiveness of the vision of its practitioners. This is why the travel book has persisted for nearly two centuries since its death was first announced and for more than three-quarters of a century since its demise was dramatically reproclaimed, and why today it seems as vital as ever, even though getting to almost anywhere in the world in next to no time at all is now more a chore than a challenge. The ease of travel does not restrict the vision of the obervant travel writer in the postmodern age any more than the difficulty of travel guaranteed smart observation in the premodern or modern periods.” (p.187)
“It is the ability of the traveler to experience and reflect on what is encountered along the way that is most important.” (p.187)
-David M. Wrobel, Global West, American Frontier
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PS I would consider these among the best of the genre:
See also the Q & A’s here on Madam Mayo blog with the brilliant Shelley Armitage (Walking the Llano); Bruce Berger (A Desert Harvest, etc.); and Sara Mansfield Taber (Bread of Three Rivers, etc).
Do you write with a pen or a pencil? That’s the biggest, fattest cliché of a question for a writer. Caramba! I never thought I’d write a post about a pencil.
Backstory: An age ago I read about Palomino Blackwing pencils on Kevin Kelly’s Cool Tools blog, and because I’d found a number of surprisingly excellent recommendations there, I thought hmmm, I just might maybe look for those pencils one of these days…
I wasn’t even writing with a pencil at that point. I had used mechanical pencils on and off in high school and college, but I hated running out of the leads, or as often happened, finding that I had the wrong size. I was all for writing with ballpoint pens, and (long, boring story) I came into a supply of some 250 swag pens, so that lasted me for the past decade…
Two years ago I started writing with a pencil again. I had just happened to be in the stationary supply aisle in my local grocery store when, for no particular reason, except that I fancied their fire-engine red color, I tossed a packet of pencils into the cart. These were nothing special, regular old No. 2 lead pencils. But I soon found that I quite liked writing with a pencil, mainly because I could erase! I erase a lot.
Ye olde grocery store pencils. Nothing special.
Voilà, also from my local grocery store, my eraser and pencil sharpener!
Ye olde eraser and ye olde pencil sharpener.
Thundernation, I think I spent, like, maybe five bucks on all this low-tech equipment. (Casting bronze sculpture, this ain’t…)
So the mammoth news is, last month I finally ordered a dozen Palomino Blackwings, which cost a ridiculous (==put on your seatbelt==) 25 dollars. (That comes to about 2 bucks per pencil.) They arrived in a sleek black box suitable for Swiss truffles.
WAHH!!! No Swiss truffles!! My Palomino Blackwing pencils.
The Palomino Blackwing pencil is fabulicious! It glides across the page in a way I can only describe as yummy. It seems the secret is the Japanese graphite, “crafted with clay for strength and wax for smoothness.”
Trivial as they may seem, these material matters of writerly routine and comfort– using a special pencil, or, say, a lap desk for a certain task on a certain sofa at a certain time– can make a nifty difference for a writer’s productivity.
So, actually, there just might be something for you to the question, do you write with a pen or a pencil?
Or, on a computer or a typewriter? Or, all of the above?
Coffee or tea?
Classical music or rock music?
Desk facing the window or the wall?
If you are feeling in any way blocked or slow with your process, what might make a refreshing tweak for you?
A nutty month it’s been, dear writerly readers. Herewith another old but extra-crunchy interview– one of my favorites. Why so? Among many reasons, in my book-in-progress on Far West Texas I am writing about Xavier González, an artist who worked in the Big Bend (among many other places in his long life, which began in Spain in 1898 and concluded in New York City in 1993), and it’s fun to realize, via his teacher Diego Rivera, he has a link to Santiago Rebull…
An Interview with Alan Rojas Orzechowski about Maximilian’s Court Painter, Santiago Rebull
Santiago Rebull: The Outlines of a Story, at the Museum of the Diego Rivera Mural in Mexico City. Through February 15, 2015
He was Maximilian’s Court Painter, a leading figure in 19th century Mexican painting, and one of the important influences on Diego Rivera, yet few people have heard of Santiago Rebull— until now.
If you’re anywhere near Mexico City, come in and visit the Santiago Rebull show at the Museo Mural Diego Rivera. >> More information here. << For those aficionados of the history of the French Intervention, and in particular the brief reign of Maximilian von Habsburg as Emperor of Mexico, this is an especially important show not to miss, for Rebull was Maximilian’s Court Painter and, interestingly, one of the few individuals close to the monarchy who managed to remain in Mexico and even thrive in subsequent decades under the Republic. Herewith, my interview with the show’s curator, Mexican historian Alan Rojas Orzechowski.
Santiago Rebull, Self-portrait, 1852
C.M. MAYO: What gave you the idea for the show?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: The exhibition Santiago Rebull: Los contornos de una historia (Santiago Rebull: The Outlines of a Story) presented in the Museo Mural Diego Rivera is our own way to pay homage to one of the most creative minds of the Academic Movement in Mexico, an illustrious painter and educator who molded the minds of pupils such as Roberto Montenegro, Ángel Zárraga and Diego Rivera.
As an outstanding teacher, he taught Diego Rivera as a young student in the San Carlos Academy of Arts. Rivera in return, always considered him as a mentor and guide, respecting him as both, as an instructor and fellow artist. Exploiting this connection, the Museo Mural Diego Rivera and external curator Magaly Hernández, thought suitable to present an exhibition which honored Rebull’s artwork, underlining his influence on Rivera and his generation.
C.M. MAYO: How did Santiago Rebull, so close to Maximilian, manage to remain in Mexico and continue working as a successful artist for decades afterwards?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: I personally think that it was his undeniable talent as an artist which enabled him to continue teaching in San Carlos Academy during three more decades.
In the immediate years after Maximilian’s fall he did receive severe reproaches from fellow artists and local newspapers as a monarchist and “afrancesado” (pro-French), but he carried on painting members of the political, economic and cultural elite. As a testament of this, the portraits of Presidents Benito Juárez and Porfirio Díaz are shown in the exhibition. Both pieces are dated in the 1870s, less than a decade after the monarch´s disgrace.
He retained his position as a teacher in San Carlos and also imparted drawing lessons to female pupils in the Colegio de Vizcaínas which was the only female and secular school in Mexico throughout the XVIII and XIX centuries. Along with his academic career, he remained a prolific painter, authoring remarkable pieces such as La muerte de Marat (Marat’s Death) and several portraits.
Santiago Rebull, La muerte de Marat, 1875
C.M. MAYO: What has been the reaction from art historians and historians of the Second Empire?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: The Academic reaction towards the Second Empire, from both, historians and art historians, has changed through time. During the first half of the XX Century, the posture was very much aligned to the official history, characterized by a nationalist stance in which Maximilian was portrayed as an invader and many of his actions as an imposition to Mexicans.
Nevertheless, this has shifted to a fascination for both, Maximilian and Charlotte, partly thanks to literature. En example of this, the book Noticias del Imperio (News from the Empire) by Fernando del Paso or The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire by C.M. Mayo.
Historians have now a much more benevolent gaze to the Second Empire, emphasizing on Maximilian’s liberal measures that assisted the indigenous groups and regulated Ecclesiastic influence on civilians—which certainly made him unpopular with his original supporters. Art historians tend to be cautious with their judgments, stressing the continuity on San Carlos Academy trough its curriculum, academic cluster and board, all of them dramatically modified with the Republic’s restoration.
For instance, Eduardo Báez Macías, in his volume History of the National School of Fine Arts (Old San Carlos Academy), mentions Maximilian’s patronizing attitude towards Mexican art, believing it to be provincial to what he was used to in Europe.
My personal view is the opposite. Maximilian was a very intelligent ruler, he was aware of the necessity of his government’s legitimacy, and knew that the main way to achieved it was through art and Court protocol. In the first case, he arose from the liberal vs. conservative´s discussion over national heroes and entrusted several talented young artists to create a portrait gallery of the libertadores, including characters such as Hidalgo and Iturbide along. Also, in several Imperial projects he preferred to employ talented Mexican students over well-known established European teachers as Eugenio Landesio or Pelegrín Clavé.
C.M. MAYO: Which of all the 68 pieces do you consider the most essential for understanding Rebull and his place in Mexican art?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: Santiago Rebull is one of the most relevant XIX century painters in Mexico’s history. He is a fundamental artist of the Academicism generation, and keystone to understanding the shift in the Art Scene towards the Vanguards and the Mexican Painting School of XX century, since he was an inexhaustible teacher to many of its participants.
One of Santiago Rebull’s anchor pieces is La muerte de Abel (Abel’s Death). It was painted in 1851 and earned him a scholarship to travel to Rome.
Santiago Rebull, La muerte de Abel, 1851
He there attended the San Lucas Academy, a conservative catholic art school that followed the principles of the Nazarene Movement, specially influenced by the German painter Johann Friedrich Overbeck. Rebull studied under the guidance of Academic artist Thomaso Consoni, who molded and perfected his technique through a careful series of exercises consisting on copying masterpieces from Renaissance maestros. Therefore, La muerte de Abel best represents the Academic ideals of trace, color use and proportions so faithfully followed by Rebull.
C.M. MAYO: Was it difficult to find these 68 pieces, and were there any you couldn’t get for the show that you wish you had?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: Unfortunately there was a piece we were unable to obtain, El sacrificio de Isaac (Isaac’s Sacrifice) painted in 1858 during his sojourn in Italy and displayed in the Centennial Exposition of Philadelphia and later shown in New Orleans. The image is almost 118 inches tall and it’s a flawless sample of Rebull´s work during this formative voyage under Consoni’s guidance. Alas, it was a crucial piece in the National Museum of Art (MUNAL), therefore, they were unable to lend it.
Santiago Rebull, El sacrificio de Isaac, 1859
It was relatively unproblematic to secure the greater part of the assortment since it belongs to the painter’s descendants, most of them eager to promote their ancestor’s work. The rest of the pieces were graciously provided by significant institutions such as the San Carlos Academy, the National Museum of Art and the Colegio de Vizcaínas.
C.M. MAYO: Was the museum at Il Castillo di Miramar involved in any way? The original of Rebull’s portrait of the Emperor Maximilian was sent there, is that right?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: The original full length portrait of Maximilian was painted by Santiago Rebull in 1865. The Emperor took such pleasure on it that resulted on the appointment of Rebull as court painter; he was also awarded the Order of Guadalupe, the Empire’s uppermost honor. The monarch relocated the painting in Miramar Castle in Trieste, Italy that same year. Nonetheless he commissioned Joaquín Ramírez, another Academic painter to produce an exact copy of his portrait. Currently, the latter is part of the National Institute of Fine Arts collection and it’s shown at Chapultepec Castle. We exhibit a contemporary reproduction of Ramírez painting.
Joaquín Ramírez, Portrait of Emperor Maximilian I, ca. 1866.
C.M. MAYO: The decorative bacchantes that Rebull painted for Chapultepec Castle– were these Maximilian’s idea or the artist’s? What do you think was the message of such decorative paintings?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: The decorative bacchantes of Miravalle (Chapultepec) Castle were the Emperor’s idea but Rebull only painted four of them during Maximilian’s reign since the remaining two were created later, during President Porfirio Díaz administration when he occupied the castle as his summer residence.
The message behind the bacchantes is clear: the ideal of graciousness that courtesan life implied. Maximilian was convinced that through art and elaborate court rituals his regime would gain the legitimacy and acceptance of Mexican elites. The creation of new titles, honors and reinstated old colonial titles were strategies followed by the sovereign. Thus, art and protocol were undeniably intertwined in the imperial residences.
Santiago Rebull, Bacante para la terraza del Alcázar de Chapultepec, 1894
In the words of art historian Justino Fernández “Rebull planned six bacchantes figures […] the romanticism of the epoch finds here one of its classical expressions, these women, or better said, demigoddesses, highly idealized, wear the magnificence of their figure, in a movement attitude.” * *Justino Fernández. El arte del siglo XIX en México, Mexico, Imprenta Universitaria, 1967, p. 77.
C.M. MAYO: What do you consider Rebull’s most essential achievements as an artist?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: His personal career is bound to the history of San Carlos Academy; we may consider him as a founding painter of Mexican art of the first decades of independence, when the elite and middle classes were shaping an identity of their own, which they found in the expressions of Academicism and Neoclassic Art.
He perfected his education with the European sojourn—not remaining solely in Rome, but traveling extensively through Spain—and returned with a refined paintbrush imbibed by Purism and Nazarene precepts.
The preparative drawings are a testament of Rebull’s expertise of trace and copying, the two cornerstone of a XIX century Academic education. Upon his return he grew as a prolific portraitist, the most important being that of Emperor Maximilian.
But his talent was enjoyed not only by royals; both Presidents Benito Juárez and Porfirio Díaz were also depicted by the artist. The latter, is embodied as a young aspiring president, unlike later representations where an elderly and heavily ornamented military men is shown. Furthermore, common and quotidian characters were also portrayed by him.
Santiago Rebull, Portrait of Porfirio Díaz, 1872
Santiago Rebull, Portrait of an unknown man, undated
C.M. MAYO: Why is the show in the Museo de Diego Rivera? Can you talk a little about Rebull’s influence on Diego Rivera?
ALAN ROJAS ORZECHOWSKI: Since the Museo Mural Diego Rivera has the commitment of preserving Diego Rivera’s legacy, promoting the artistic expressions created during the XX century and especially those influenced by Rivera himself, we thought there was a great breach with his predecessors. Who were they? Who particularly influenced him?
Rivera was educated at the San Carlos Academy of Arts in Mexico City where he was an accomplished student, tutored by the great artists of the XIX century Academic movement. He received a refined instruction from painters such as José Salomé Pina, José María Velasco and Santiago Rebull. Diego always felt in debt towards the latter, recognizing him as his mentor.
I am off again this week, dear writerly readers, but I offer you this post from the archives about one of my very favorite and most secretly wondrous places on the planet.
THE SOLITARIO DOME
Originally posted on Madam Mayo blog March 13, 2015
Inside The Solitario. Photo: C.M. Mayo, March 2015
Flora and Vegetation of the Solitario Dome by Jean Evans Hardy, Iron Mountain Press, 2009 (Whoa, call the chiropracter, I brought this one home in my carry-on!)
Geology of the Solitario by Charles E. Corry, et al. Geological Society of America Special Paper 250, 1990.
“Igneous Evolution of a Complex Laccolith-Caldera, the Solitario, Trans-Pecos, Texas: Implications for Calderas and Subjacent Plutons” by Christopher D. Henry, et al.Geological Society of America Bulletin, August 1997 (Super-crunchy PDF)
The Solitario: Sentinel of the Big Bend Ranch State Park” Megan Hicks, The Big Bend Paisano, Winter 2004/2005 (PDF)
“Geology at the Crossroads” By Blaine R. Hall, Big Bend Ranch State Park (PDF)
Entering the labyrinth of the Solitario via Los Portales (That’s my guide, Charlie Angell, he’s the best, check him out on Tripadvisor.com). Photo: C.M. Mayo, March 2015
