Category: Arts & Letters

TWO TWEAKS IN THE DESIGN

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

As I moved from the Advance Reading Copy to the First Edition of my new novel, I decided to make two tweaks in the cover design.

The photo itself remains unchanged. It’s the typeface that altered.

When I lined the original cover up beside the covers for the related books in the cycle of Cassia’s discoveries, I realized it’s serif typeface was out of step with the sans serif on the other three volumes. As much as I love serifs (they have more character, for one thing), I also saw that a sans would have more punch on the thumbnail size used to display most ebooks. OK, so that changed.

Again, as I considered the four books together, I saw something else happening. The next book in line, Daffodil Uprising, features a prominent daffodil bloom in a bright yellow antique-style drawing. The contrast between its artwork and the photo on What’s Left works, I think, but the white title somehow felt out of step.

That’s when the thought flashed, “You idiot! It has to be yellow! Like the yolk! Like the daffodil, too!”

Here’s the progression. First, the ARC:

What’s Left

Then the sans serif:

And finally color:

What’s Left

So here you have it. Any reactions?

 

 

 

OH, THE FINALS WEEK ORGY

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Among the gifts I received at Christmas was a tablet laptop, with the expectation I’d be using especially for Kindle editions – including my own ebooks.

But so far what I’ve really appreciated is its ability to stream music.

For me, that’s meant Q2’s New Sounds and Operavore from WQXR in New York and WHRB from Harvard University in Cambridge.

With solid jazz from 5 a.m. till 1 p.m. and some adventurous classical continuing till 10 p.m., plus the Metropolitan Opera on Saturday afternoons and another opera on Sunday night, my listening is mostly on the Harvard station. Admittedly, the student announcers can be unintentionally amusing in their pronunciations and amateurish touches, but I usually find that more amusing than annoying.

This spring, though, I finally got to experience an amazing tradition on the station – the finals week Orgy, when the regular programming is set aside for in-depth presentations of specific composers or performers.

Continue reading “OH, THE FINALS WEEK ORGY” →

PRELUDE & FUGUE 28/

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an elephant with flowers painted
around the eyes and painted toenails

four zebras sipping water

*   *   *

luxurious green tent on safari white bone
ornaments through noses armed for the hunt
and cocktails already served
three African bushmen in a field of wrinkled flesh
eyelid (the elephant) the rain
is needed, sticky or no sticky (unlike the rhino)

zebras, black and white in a splash of vibrant green
with netting over the bed
luxurious green tent on safari white
bone ornaments through their noses
armed for the hunt and cocktails
already served three bushmen in a field
of wrinkled African flesh, an eyelid (the elephant)
the rain is needed, sticky or no sticky
(unlike the rhino) zebras, black and white

in a splash of vibrant green            with netting
over the bed’s luxurious green safari tent
white bone noses armed for the ornamental
hunt cocktails served by three bushmen
in an African field of wrinkled eyelids needing rain
sticky or no sticky the elephant (unlike the rhino) or
zebras, black and white in a splash
of vibrant green netting over the bed ornaments

beasts leaping from dust into a tropical river
before a tiger atop a car spirals between
four zebras sipping water the way
a camel’s nose runs ahead of its mouth:

the hairy trunk and mouth of an elephant, so spotted
forages on hind legs, trunk and tusks upraised to the tree

the elephant with flowers painted
around the eyes and painted toenails
still leaps from the dust into a tropical river

a camel’s nose runs ahead of its mouth from hind legs
upraised to the tree in front of the tiger
atop a car of spiraling spots

the hairy trunk and mouth with flowers painted
around the eyes guarding four zebras sipping water
and the foraging beasts leap from dust into the river
running ahead of its mouth

a camel on hind legs, the tree painted with flowers
and toenails a feeling of life finally coming together

atop a car, four zebras leap from the dust
into a hairy river and forage
a feeling of life finally coming together these days

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

THE SILENCE IN BEETHOVEN

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When it comes to the fine arts, we love our biographies of tortured genius, and Ludwig van Beethoven serves the storytellers admirably. Baptized December 17, 1770, in Bonn, his tempestuous and tragic life was one of failed love affairs, strained friendships, and especially the deafness that accompanied his greatest musical achievements. And yet many of us find him not only speaking for us but also extending inspiration in the quest for fullness and fidelity.

In part it’s a story of the way Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven reestablish the center of classical music, centering it in the German-speaking world far from its Italian roots and the Renaissance genius of Monteverdi and Palestrina.

As I discussed earlier this year, Beethoven’s popularity rests largely on works that he wrote in the second half of his life, past the age of Mozart’s death, the years that encompass what are known as his Middle (or Heroic) and Late periods. The years accompanied by deafness.

For much of my life, I’ve not been alone in finding that what most appealed to me were the works from the Middle period – the Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and Ninth symphonies, the violin and “Emperor” piano concertos, the Rasumovsky string quartets – stirring works raging with dramatic struggle and promised victory. With all of their emotional parallels to athletic contests, these have justifiably ensured his enduring public adoration.

More recently, though, they’ve given way in my estimation as the Late period works have risen in preference. Quite simply, these have never been considered all that accessible. Many of them defiantly turn their back on the audience in a pursuit of boldly intricate, often extended, musical puzzles that plumb the depths of human despair, loneliness, resolve, as well as lofty heights. Indeed, for years the assumption has been that these are not for public consumption but are rather reserved for private investigation among the cognoscenti, should they be so honored.

Continue reading “THE SILENCE IN BEETHOVEN” →

CURTAINS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

to embrace something with the wisdom of the final round

people crowding the boulevard in Baltimore
to watch Robert Kennedy’s funeral train pass
overhead

in that portrait of seven famed figures
Annie, turned to stone under a blue-jay feather

how that small town in snow looks more like Pennsylvania
or Midwest
than New England

Blake, the Muggletonian and lithographer
the surviving Beats portrayed
as Ginsberg tying a shoelace

would see something with the sharpness of the first time

all that baroque light over a cathedral altar
the cumulus effect
enveloping a solo deer

naked
in the garden
awaiting snowfall

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Partitas, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 48/

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with fiddles and crows
tracing a map of yellow leaves

*   *   *

on a map of frosted snow
three crows with their fiddles
in the crown of their living

of a rock face map, frosted snow
three crows with their fiddles
in the crown of their living rock face

on a map, frosted snow, three crows
with their fiddles in the crown
out of their rock face, tracing some life

 atop scree, another one at the bottom, wintergreen

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

SPIRAL SHELL

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

reading the inscription on your tombstone

an abandoned road soon becomes impassible
except on foot or horseback

dumplings, broiled, steamed, and fried involving pork, chicken,
Chinese cabbage, tofu. more ginger and any amount of
garlic, scallions, bamboo shoots, and water chestnuts

a bronze bespattered snake
coils elegantly
through an alligator-skin sandal

nothing funny about us, just practical and direct

“maker dressing toe,” she

she was so bold

a mechanical hand made of maps and a yardstick
SHAKE

Edward Steichen’s portrait of Leopold Stokowski in profile

a human heart just one shade redder

a place to savor and crave

mechanical dancing dolls
shaving pennies

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Partitas, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 50/

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sprawled on the floor, a barefoot bride without makeup

*   *   *

along with a martial arts master sprawled out
on the floor a barefoot bride without
makeup everyone you knew thought
it only a fragile joke and then

you pulled the trigger: blood runs
toward the tub drain what made you think
I had any clue what was afoot? martial arts student
sprawled out on the floor, a barefoot bride

without makeup, everyone thinking it only fragile
joke blood running toward the tub drain what
made you think I had any clue what was afoot?
a martial arts master sprawled out on the floor

a barefoot bride without makeup everyone you
knew thought it was only a fragile joke
blood runs toward the tub drain? what made you think
I had any clue what was afoot?

kick higher, kick higher
from the floor

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.

CAKEWALK

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a trio of Asian dancers

a topless dancer in a red mask
squats with a white banner

a ring, as wholeness
allowing the hole
that opens opportunity

white laundry in autumn yellow

have enough for us, the good steward

tide marsh as a frosted tangle

the luxurious interior of a log cabin with plank floors and rag rugs

an old-fashioned downtown with springboard

harvester in corn surrounded by golden foliage

while I start

packing for the extremes
of Florida and Lake Michigan
in winter

after our first weekend
briefly, the duration of that leap

perchance a woman more serious than me
should be packing for

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set of Partitas, click here.

PRELUDE & FUGUE 49/

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to lovers who were never quite present

*   *   *

good-bye in the night who never were lovers
repeatedly saying good-bye in the night
who never were lovers repeatedly saying
good-bye in the present night who
never were tubercular contortions or squiggles
good-bye tubercular squiggles to lovers’ night
repeatedly saying never quite contortions
squiggles repeatedly saying good-bye
to lovers never quite tubercular night

~*~

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see all 50 Preludes & Fugues, click here.