
Provided
The writer Karen Chase was born in New York City but spent a lot of time living in and around Salisbury, Connecticut.
Chase is the author of several poems, stories, essays and books including a memoir about having polio when she was ten years old. Her new book, “Two Tales: Jamali Kamali and ZundelState,” consists of two narrative poems. The first is a long, free-verse poem about an imagined homoerotic love between two men who are historical figures from 16th century India, and the second is what one could call a “science fiction poem,” written mostly in free verse, and centered on a man and woman living in a dystopian techno-state a thousand years from now. Because Chase’s free-flowing poems align with “automatic” or “free association” writing, with a few forays into Dada-like absurdities, the best approach to reading them is to go with the flow.
Despite the fact that “Jamali Kamali” was written several years ago, and “ZundelState” completed only recently, the author considers them to be of a piece. Her free-verse structure offers a cornucopia of love, longing, sexual passion, dreams, art, history and science. The two stories are riveting, but absorbing the full impact of the artistry requires a big-time “suspension of disbelief.” Passages range from the lovely and loving to the jolting and violent. Sometimes things feel incomprehensible, sometimes perfectly logical, and sometimes we’re simply struck by beautiful phrases — “stinging sky,” “butterfly laugh,” or “the past shivering alive into now.”
Centuries after their death, Jamali and Kamali, whose names form the eponymous title of the first story, lie side by side in a tourist-destination tomb in Delhi that Chase visited while on a month-long residency in the city. Little is known about Jamali other than that he was a court poet and Sufi Muslim in the Mughal Empire; nothing is known about Kamali, or about the nature of the relationship between the two men.After visiting the tomb, without having any plan, Chase set about writing her story of their forbidden love, finishing the poem a few years later, after returning home.
“Jamali Kamali” is filled with details about 16th century India that Chase discovered through extensive correspondence with Bruce Wannell, a British scholar who specialized in the history of the period. What’s intriguing is the way Chase weaves these factual details together with her own details taken from direct observations of whatever happened to be in front of her while she was writing. While working on the poem in Nova Scotia, for example, she would look out her window and, noting the fog, sky, or flocks of birds, directly drop descriptions of them into her poem.
Chase writes compellingly about the deep love and intense sexual bond between two men and doesn’t hesitate to go deep into their super-charged sex lives. Chase says her fiction relies solely on her imagination, and she’s not interested in writing about herself. That imagination is enriched by a broad range of cultural and historical references, which is why “Jamali Kamali,” which isn’t written in the dactylic hexameter of classical poetry, recalls nothing so much as Homeric poetry — indeed, the name Homer appears early on in her poem.
In “ZundelState,” the second story, we again focus on two lovers who are “outsiders” in their society. Instead of being set in the past, we’re in a dystopian state a thousand years in the future, one where time is not linear, and a human being can even go talk directly with Socrates. A mysterious autocratic State that bans history and dreaming controls everything. Human beings divide their lives between the “Agora” — the public realm — and “Home,” where they are private. Home is where “people are like snowflakes, each one unique. Elsewhere [the Agora], they all match.”
A dutiful State apparatchik named Marianna feels stirrings of dreaming — and more dangerously, love — after meeting Joe, a rebellious sort. Against the rules of the State, Joe has discovered this thing called history, and walks long distances to reach “Junkyards” located deep inside forbidden territory where he forages for abandoned fragments of it.
“ZundelState” recalls the psychological TV thriller “Severance.” Both concern the “form and pressure,” to use Shakespeare’s phrase, of our times, where the techno-state, and the rise of the techno-state human being, threaten to obliterate freedom. An anxiety that human beings will eventually be emptied of their humanity hovers over both.Reading the “Two Tales: Jamali Kamali and ZundelState” drives home that our beloved humanity rests not in our capacity to reason, but in our wild, imaginative spiritedness that lives in our dreams and loves. Should these fall away, we are finished.
The author will be giving a talk on Thursday, June 26, at the David M. Hunt Library in Falls Village at 5:30 p.m.
Laurie Fendrich is an abstract painter, professor emerita at Hofstra University and vice-president of American Abstract Artists. She lives in Lakeville.
Sam Waterston
On June 7 at 3 p.m., the Triplex Cinema in Great Barrington will host a benefit screening of “The Killing Fields,” Roland Joffé’s 1984 drama about the Khmer Rouge and the two journalists, Cambodian Dith Pran and New York Times correspondent Sydney Schanberg, whose story carried the weight of a nation’s tragedy.
The film, which earned three Academy Awards and seven nominations — including one for Best Actor for Sam Waterston — will be followed by a rare conversation between Waterston and his longtime collaborator and acclaimed television and theater director Matthew Penn.
“This came out of the blue,” Waterston said of the Triplex invitation, “but I love the town, I love this area. We raised our kids here in the Northwest Corner and it’s been good for them and good for us.”
Waterston hasn’t seen the film in decades but its impact has always remained present.
“It was a major event in my life at the time,” Waterston said of filming “The Killing Fields,” “and it had a big influence on me and my life ever after.” He remembers the shoot vividly. “My adrenaline was running high and the part of Sydney Schanberg was so complicated, so interesting.”
Waterston lobbied for the role of the Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist for years, tracing his early interest to a serendipitous connection while filming in England. Even before Joffé’s production was greenlit, he had his sights set on playing the role. “I knew I wanted the part for years even before it was a movie that was being produced.”
What followed was not just critical acclaim, but also a political awakening. “The film gave all of us an intimate acquaintance with refugees, what it is to be a refugee, how the world forgets them and what a terrible crime that is.”
In Boston, at a press stop for the film, two women asked Waterston a pointed question: now that he knew what he knew, what was he going to do about it? “I said, ‘Well, you know, I’m an actor, so I thought I’d go on acting.’ And they said, ‘No, that’s not what you need to do. You need to join Refugees International.’” And join he did, serving on the organization’s board for 25 years.
Both Schanberg and Dith Pran, whose life the film also chronicles, were “cooperative and helpful … in a million ways,” Waterston said. Upon first meeting Pran, Waterston recalled, “He came up to me, made a fist, and pounded on my chest really hard and said, ‘You must understand that Sydney is very strong here.’ He was trying to plant something in me.”
There were more tender gestures, too. Schanberg used the New York Times wire to relay that Waterston’s wife had just given birth while he was filming in Thailand, adding to the personal and emotional connection to the production.
Though “The Killing Fields” is a historical document, its truths still resonate deeply today. “Corruption is a real thing,” Waterston warned. “Journalism is an absolutely essential part of our democracy that is as under siege today as it was then. It’s different now but it’s the same thing of ‘Don’t tell the stories we don’t want heard.’ Without journalists, we are dust in the wind.” Waterston added, “Democracy is built on the consent of the governed but the other thing it’s built on is participation of the governed and without full participation, democracy really doesn’t stand much of a chance. It’s kind of a dead man walking.”
When asked what he hopes the audience will take away from the screening, Waterston didn’t hesitate. “This is the story that puts the victims of war at the center of the story and breaks your heart. I think that does people a world of good to have their hearts broken about something that’s true. So, I hope that’s what the impact will be now.”
Tickets for the benefit screening are available at www.thetriplex.org. Proceeds support Triplex Cinema, a nonprofit home for film and community programming in the Berkshires.
Scott Reinhard, graphic designer, cartographer, former Graphics Editor at the New York Times, took time out from setting up his show “Here, Here, Here, Here- Maps as Art” to explain his process of working.Here he explains one of the “Heres”, the Hunt Library’s location on earth (the orange dot below his hand).
Map lovers know that as well as providing the vital functions of location and guidance, maps can also be works of art.With an exhibition titled “Here, Here, Here, Here — Maps as Art,” Scott Reinhard, graphic designer and cartographer, shows this to be true. The exhibition opens on June 7 at the David M. Hunt Library at 63 Main St., Falls Village, and will be the first solo exhibition for Reinhard.
Reinhard explained how he came to be a mapmaker. “Mapping as a part of my career was somewhat unexpected.I took an introduction to geographic information systems (GIS), the technological side of mapmaking, when I was in graduate school for graphic design at North Carolina State.GIS opened up a whole new world, new tools, and data as a medium to play with.”
He added, “When I moved to New York City, I continued that exploration of cartography, and my work eventually caught the attention of the New York Times, where I went to work as a Graphics Editor, making maps and data visualizations for a number of years.”At the New York Times, his work contributed to a number of Pulitzer Prize winning efforts.
In his work, Reinhard takes complex data and turns it into intriguing visualizations the viewer can begin to comprehend immediately and will want to continue to look into and explore more deeply.
One method Reinhard uses combines historic United States Geological survey maps with “current elevation data (height above sea level for a point on earth) to create 3-D looking maps, combining old and new,” he explained.
For the show at Hunt Library Reinhard said, “I knew that I wanted to incorporate the place into the show itself. A place can be many things.The exhibition portrays the exact spot visitors are from four vantage points: the solar system, the earth, the Northwest Corner, and the library itself.” Hence the name, “Here, Here, Here, Here.”
He continued, “The largest installation, the Northwest Corner, is a mosaic of high-resolution color prints and hand-printed cyanotypes — one of the earliest forms of photography. They use elevation data to portray the landscape in a variety of ways, from highly abstract to the highly detailed.”
This sixteen-foot-wide installation covers the area of Millerton to Barkhamsted Reservoir and from North Canaan down to Cornwall for a total of about 445 square miles.
For subjects, he chooses places he’s visited and feels deeply connected to, like the Northwest Corner.“This show is a thank you to the community for the richness that it has brought to my life. I love it here,” he said.
The opening reception for the show is on June 7 from 5 to 7 p.m. On Thursday, June 12, Reinhard will give a talk about his work from 5:30 to 7 p.m. at the library.“Here, Here, Here, Here” will be on display until July 3.
Scott Reinhard’s 16-foot-wide piece of the Northwest Corner is laid out on the floor prior to being hung for the show. L. Tomaino
The marquee at Goshen Players for “A Goodnight Kiss.”
"A Goodnight Kiss,” premiering June 6 at Goshen Players Playhouse, is a dramatization of real Civil War-era love letters. Written by award-winning playwright Cinzi Lavin and directed by regional theater veteran Kathleen Kelly — both Litchfield County residents — it serves to reminds us that while wars are waged by nations, it is the people who live through them, their lives forever changed.
At the center of “A Goodnight Kiss” is the relationship between Sarah Jane “Jennie” Wadhams, a college student in New Britain, and Sergeant Major Frederick Lucas, a young soldier stationed in Alexandria. Lavin discovered the story of the letters by the couple in a 2002 book by Ernest B. Barker called “Fred and Jennie: A Civil War Story.” Lavin, who holds a certificate in applied history from the University of London and has performed at the White House, read all 90 letters the couple exchanged between 1863 and 1867. “It was like falling into another time,” she recalled. “You hear the dialect, the moral concerns, the humor. Jennie once said someone ‘must think she’s some pumpkins.’ I had to keep that.”
Cinzi LavinAnna Zuckerman-Vdovenko
While staying true to the historical narrative, Lavin and Kelly took pains to adapt with sensitivity, editing outdated language, softening harsh racial terms, and trimming some of the religious fervor of the original texts for modern ears. “We didn’t want to rewrite history,” said Lavin, “but we did need to present some things so that it translated.”
The result is a story of two young people navigating distance, war, and the slowness of the mail. It’s also about community, duty, and the Connecticut town of Goshen itself where Fred and Jennie lived, wrote, and now lay interned. It’s fitting, then, that the Goshen Players opened their doors to this production.
“They’ve been wonderful,” said Kelly. “It’s a story from Goshen, and now it’s being told in Goshen. I think audiences will really appreciate that. It’ll be so interesting to see their reactions as ancestors.”
Kelly’s direction brings a collaborative, actor-driven energy to the stage. “I always say the only good playwright is a dead one,” she laughed. “But Cinzi? Thank God she’s not. She’s a dream.” Lavin, in turn, credits her theatrical background for that flexibility. “Both of our background as actors really helped us connect and then the cast came in with ideas and heart and it became something so much bigger.”
Kathleen KellyProvided
Starring David Macharelli and Olivia Wadsworth as Fred and Jennie, with a supporting cast including Robert Kwalick as Narrator, John Fabiani as Jennie’s father, Joel Osborne as Fred’s fellow solider, Harmony Tanguay and Roni Gelrmino as a gossiping villagers, the play layers historical narration with humor, heartbreak, and a surprising amount of warmth. “There’s a lot of humanity here,” Kelly said. “And a little gossip. The Goshen women definitely bring that.”
Adding texture is a curated selection of Stephen Foster songs arranged by Lavin which the U.S. Library of Congress included in its national “Song of America” archive. And for history buffs, Sunday’s 3 p.m. performance will include a talkback with historians Peter Vermilyea, Carolyn Ivanoff, Kevin Johnson, and Natalie Belanger, whose insights will ground the drama in even deeper context.
“Theater is the one place, even more than television and film, where you can really deal with difficult topics,” said Kelly. “You go into a theater, and you are changed.”
“A Goodnight Kiss” will be performed at Goshen Players Playhouse, 2 North St., Goshen, June 6 to 8. For tickets and more info, visit: goshenplayer.booktix.com