Readings by the Windham Campbell Prize Winners 2015

There are nine winners of the Windham Campbell Prize. A friend said "if you want to know what a million dollars looks like, just look at those winners", each one gets $150,000.00
Last night's reading at the Yale Art Gallery was a good chance to hear the winners read from their own material with only a small amount of commentary from the host.

Drama:
Jackie Sibblies Drury: She read from a work in progress that has to do with surveillance, information, enhanced interrogation, all taking place in an NSA-like building. Watching how she distinguishes each character was interesting--she raises a hand to identify which character is talking. Must seek out some of her work. Part of the reason to go to the festival is to listen to people you know of and to discover new writers.

Helena Edmundson: Did not attend.

Debbie Tucker Green: Did not attend.

Fiction:
Teju Cole: He read from Open City, his 2011 novel. The passage read was about the evoking of memories while hearing something. It was cinematic in its description. I have read some of his non-fiction, now it's time to read his fiction.

Helon Habila: He read from his book Oil on Water. There is a deliberateness to his writing, a slowness almost, making you feel what the characters feel. The passage involved a reporter, a kidnapping and a fever. Definitely going to find his books.

Ivan Vladislavic:He read from his non-fiction Portrait with Keys: The City of Johannesburg Unlocked. His descriptions are so evocative. In this case he read about a snowstorm in Jburg (as he referred to it). It takes politics, people and nature and wraps it all up. Definitely deserves a follow up to read.

Non-Fiction:
Geoff Dyer: He read a "lecture" about Jackson Pollock that was both funny, sad, and true. It was also in a sense a bit of satire about holding up artists as these people who can do anything and get away with it.

John Jeremiah Sullivan: He read a story that involved Jefferson and Meriwether (yes, that Jefferson and that Meriwether) and Robert Penn Warren. You have to read it to believe. It involved the murder of a slave named George. It is a horrible story yet crafted and well told by JJ Sullivan. Can't wait to read more by him.

Edmund de Waal: He read from a new book, The White Road, that debuts October 2 in London, It's about porcelain and its history but it is also about de Waal himself and his pursuit. He wrote the The Hare with Amber Eyes which I can't wait to read--it's about a collection of netsukes but that hardly does it justice.

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Really, that auditorium should have been filled. The opportunity to see world class writers read from their work for free was a privilege. I learned, I was inspired and I was reminded of the power of the printed word.

Windham Campbell Prizes 2015

Living in New York City it is easier to connect to great writers and other artists. Still, living in Connecticut doesn't shut you out of that access. After all, New York City is still about two hours away and you can still see great things.

The great part about living not that far away from Yale is that they have amazing events that are free all the time.

The part of the year I look forward to most as a writer is the Windham Campbell Prizes Festival. It is a nearly week long event during which nine people are awarded a prize ($150,000.00 each) and there are events the entire week.

Last year's event featuring Zadie Smith meant there was a line out the door. This year with Hilton Als there was no line but there was a profound speech about being black, gay, and living New York City. It was a microscopic view into a world that was being ravaged by AIDS.

I go to the talks not only to hear people I already know about but to listen to others I've never heard of. The prize winners are a diverse group of people from all over the world.

The Art of Fiction: Teju Cole, Helon Habila, Ivan Vladislavic; moderated by Michael Cunningham.

This was a great opportunity to hear, as a writer, that you are not alone in that universe. As Teju Cole said (approximately) "you don't want to go into the basement alone so you take the writer with you."

Hearing a short portion of their writing was a delight, particularly the piece from Mr. Vladislavic which involved taking a photo and its shutter acting as a guillotine.

A Life of White Bowls: Edmund de Waal; moderated by Tim Barringer.

The FT has called him "the most accomplished British potter alive today". Mr. de Waal only produces white pottery yet it is the history behind those pots that informs us. And yes, it felt as though my very British influenced undergraduate education served me well during this talk.

http://windhamcampbell.org/

http://on.ft.com/1Fef2u0

Today would have been your 58th Birthday

In your honor I did the following:
Made a Chocolate Glazed Chocolate Tort
Made a steamed artichoke with garlic butter
Made a Reserva de la Familia/Grand Marnier Margarita in the boot.

Michael died September 5 2009

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
Silence the piano and with muffled drum
Bring out the piano, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky, He Is Dead
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves

He was my North, my South, my East, my West
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood
For nothing now can ever come to any good
--W.H. Auden

Summer Picnic

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming work out the menu for an upcoming soiree at my house.
Starters:
Fresh Mango Salsa
Shrimp & Cannelini Beans
Main Course:
Pernil
Tortillas
Garlic Mojo
Tomato/Corn/Mozzarella Salad
Dessert:
Chocolate Pear Ice Cream
Lemon Mint Frozen Yogurt
Drinks:
Signature Cocktail (something in the ginger/mint/sparkling wine area;although someone is bringing the liqueur du jour--St. Germain (elderflower))
Wine
Lemonade
Water

PJ: The Glass House

The Glass House: Part 1
It was like getting a birthday wish. Waiting for cake, presents and getting what you want that day.
Recently I got that wish. I got to spend time at Philip Johnson's Glass House. Firstly, Glass House is kind of a misnomer since it's more than the Glass House you get to see. The Glass House is meant to encompass the other structures on the premises.
I have always wanted to go, alas, I did not know Mr. Johnson personally so the chances of getting an invite were slim to none.
What you see in the photo is the Visitors Guide. It is a set of postcards with descriptions on the back and even one that has space for sketching. The Glass House Visitors Center (GHVC) is right across the street from the New Canaan Metro North Railroad Station. The GHVC has many videos on a continuing loop and a selection of books to purchase. If you are a fan of Moleskine notebooks, there is a special "The Glass House" edition which you can purchase there or online (around $25.00)
The Glass House is about a five minute van ride away. It is best to schedule an end of day tour as that one allows you time to photograph. Only the end of day tours allow photographs. The 3:30 tour has only 8 people so it is a nice small group and the woman who led our tour was very knowledgeable.
I will be writing about The Glass House in stages. Lots of photographs to show.

Robert Mondavi

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone
Silence the piano and with muffled drum
Bring out the piano, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky, He Is Dead
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves

He was my North, my South, my East, my West
My working week and my Sunday rest
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song
I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood
For nothing now can ever come to any good
--W.H. Auden