A new book is out of Kurt Vonnegut's letters, and Slate has been running some selections. His advice to a friend slotted to teach at the Iowa Writers' Workshop is interesting (and gossipy), but I really enjoyed his term paper assignment. Apparently, Vonnegut "wrote his course assignments in the form of letters, as a way of speaking personally to each member of the class."
November 30, 1965
Beloved:
This course began as Form and Theory of Fiction, became Form of Fiction, then Form and Texture of Fiction, then Surface Criticism, or How to Talk out of the Corner of Your Mouth Like a Real Tough Pro. It will probably be Animal Husbandry 108 by the time Black February rolls around. As was said to me years ago by a dear, dear friend, “Keep your hat on. We may end up miles from here.”
As for your term papers, I should like them to be both cynical and religious. I want you to adore the Universe, to be easily delighted, but to be prompt as well with impatience with those artists who offend your own deep notions of what the Universe is or should be. “This above all ...”
I invite you to read the fifteen tales in Masters of the Modern Short Story (W. Havighurst, editor, 1955, Harcourt, Brace, $14.95 in paperback). Read them for pleasure and satisfaction, beginning each as though, only seven minutes before, you had swallowed two ounces of very good booze. “Except ye be as little children ...”
Then reproduce on a single sheet of clean, white paper the table of contents of the book, omitting the page numbers, and substituting for each number a grade from A to F. The grades should be childishly selfish and impudent measures of your own joy or lack of it. I don’t care what grades you give. I do insist that you like some stories better than others.
Proceed next to the hallucination that you are a minor but useful editor on a good literary magazine not connected with a university. Take three stories that please you most and three that please you least, six in all, and pretend that they have been offered for publication. Write a report on each to be submitted to a wise, respected, witty and world-weary superior.
Do not do so as an academic critic, nor as a person drunk on art, nor as a barbarian in the literary market place. Do so as a sensitive person who has a few practical hunches about how stories can succeed or fail. Praise or damn as you please, but do so rather flatly, pragmatically, with cunning attention to annoying or gratifying details. Be yourself. Be unique. Be a good editor. The Universe needs more good editors, God knows.
Since there are eighty of you, and since I do not wish to go blind or kill somebody, about twenty pages from each of you should do neatly. Do not bubble. Do not spin your wheels. Use words I know.
poloniøus
There are many things to like about this. The first is Vonnegut's warmth. The wit isn't surprising (and the "poloniøus" handle is probably a little self-deprecating humor, Vonnegut casting himself as the fool even as he urges his students, "this above all..."). Still, he seems to genuinely like his students and teaching. It'd be hard not to respond positively to that. The second thing is his explicit (and implicit) instructions to his students not to try to agree with him – he wants them to think for themselves. The third thing I love about this assignment is the "you are a minor but useful editor" bit. Vonnegut is trying to help his students learn how to revise, how to evaluate the purpose of passages and their effectiveness and necessity. This is a very practical and an important skill. ("Do not do so as an academic critic, nor as a person drunk on art…") If writing is both an art and craft, this assignment is designed to increase his students' understanding of craftsmanship. Lastly, while Vonnegut preemptively tweaks any tendency toward pretentiousness, and the assignment is extremely pragmatic, there's an irrepressible joy to the whole endeavor. It's a well-thought-out task, but he's also made it fun. He must have been a fantastic teacher. (Also, detailed grading of eighty 20 page term papers? That'll make ya swallow more than just two ounces of very good booze… and more than just good booze.) Vonnegut's other writing advice is quite good, all the more so because (true to form) he himself doesn't take it too seriously.
Oscar Wilde was born today in 1854. Roger Ebert has a nice post up for the occasion, featuring one of the best appreciations of Wilde I've seen, this one by Stephen Fry:
Ebert also has the classic Monty Python sketch featuring Wilde and Shaw posted (head over to see it).
Wilde's later life was tragic, and the subject of many a biography, play or film itself. His own legacy is formidable. I had the pleasure of directing The Importance of Being Earnest several years back, and I've seen several productions on stage and screen. Wilde's other work is also worthwhile, but Earnest is his masterpiece. Although Wilde liked to pretend that he tossed off witty lines effortlessly – and he remains one of the greatest wits of all time – the truth is he worked hard at his craft, and revised Earnest and his other work extensively before showing it to the public. Not every actor can handle Wilde's language, but it's an absolute joy to hear it performed well.
Scott Horton recently interviewed Harold Bloom, who has a new book out. Last year, Horton posted a video of Bloom reading Wallace Stevens' poem "Tea at the Palaz of Hoon." Apparently, Bloom feels understanding this poem is essential for understanding Stevens and his evolution as a poet. Here's the poem itself:
Tea at the Palaz of Hoon
Not less because in purple I descended
The western day through what you called
The loneliest air, not less was I myself.
What was the ointment sprinkled on my beard?
What were the hymns that buzzed beside my ears?
What was the sea whose tide swept through me there?
Out of my mind the golden ointment rained,
And my ears made the blowing hymns they heard.
I was myself the compass of that sea:
I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw
Or heard or felt came not but from myself;
And there I found myself more truly and more strange.
–Wallace Stevens
Here's Bloom reciting it:
Bloom's style is halting and slightly declamatory, but he has excellent diction, and it's clear the poem holds great weight for him. He delivers it almost as an incantation, or scripture. At the end, he quotes part of another poem (with an unfortunate title).
In any case, I found the interview interesting, particularly this exchange:
6. We recently posted footage of your marvelous reading of Wallace Stevens’s “Tea at the Palaz of Hoon.” When you begin to work your way into a poem, do you find that intoning, or reading the poem aloud, is essential to its appreciation?
We start the academic year early here at Yale, and by the end of this month I’ll have two classes — one of them devoted to Shakespeare, the other to poetry. For my poetry students, there is a process I commend — take a poem that finds you, I will tell them, read it to yourself, then go to a quiet place, to your own space, and chant that poem, come to possess it. Find the space that the daimon of that poem inhabits and occupy it yourself. Then I ask my students to read the poem aloud in class. At this point in my life I find I’ve spent far too much time talking in class myself, and it is a pleasure for me now to listen to them. They are very bright, maybe brighter than students from decades ago, though also perhaps less well read. But I’ll ask my students also to begin a process of exegesis, to pull apart the thoughts of the poem, to delve into the words used, and that also is a process of appropriating, of coming to possess the poem, making it your own. But back to your point: poetry is an art of sound as much as an art of the printed word. The great work of poetry is to help us become free artists of ourselves. That work requires us to hear, and not merely to read, the poetry.
This process is also immensely important to the training and preparation of the mind. It was essential to the old tradition in education, a tradition to which we bid farewell in our graduate schools in the sixties. Now we live in an age of distraction, an age dominated by bombardment coming from the screen. Poetry, the process of making poetry your own, can be a refuge from that bombardment. But it’s also an essential disciplining of the mind, preparing one to think and speak critically and well. We live, too, in the age of the Tea Party, a movement that cherishes stupidity and zealotry and hates thinking, reading, and teaching. If these people had their way, we’d be done with teaching. It shows the weak-mindedness that has descended upon America, the proclivity for nonsense and political hatred, the disrespect for literature, history, and serious thinking. There is only one remedy to the current predicament, and that is to encourage people to think independently. And that, in turn, begins with reading. People need to remember the best that has been said and thought in the past. That is the starting point, and that is the path, out of our current appalling situation.
Ignoring the political angle for a moment, former National Poet Laureate Robert Pinsky is a very strong proponent of reading poetry aloud as well. It leads to a deeper, more personal understanding. Pinsky calls poetry the most "bodily" of the arts. Pinsky, who plays jazz sax as well, explains what he means in this interview:
PINSKY: There’s a lot of cant about poetry and jazz. And yet there is something there in the idea of surprise and variation, a fairly regular structure of harmony or rhythm—the left margin, say—and all the things you can do inside it or against it. There are passages, like the last two stanzas of “Ginza Samba,” where I try to make the consonants and vowels approach a bebop sort of rhythm.
In Poetry and the World, I wrote: “Poetry is the most bodily of the arts.” A couple of friends who read it in draft said, Well, Robert, you know . . . dancing is probably more bodily than poetry. But I stubbornly left the passage that way without quite having worked out why I wanted to say it like that. Sometimes the ideas that mean the most to you will feel true long before you can quite formulate them or justify them. After a while, I realized that for me the medium of poetry is the column of breath rising from the diaphragm to be shaped into meaning sounds inside the mouth. That is, poetry’s medium is the individual chest and throat and mouth of whoever undertakes to say the poem—a body, and not necessarily the body of the artist or an expert as in dance.
In jazz, as in poetry, there is always that play between what’s regular and what’s wild. That has always appealed to me.
INTERVIEWER: In one of your essays, you quote Housman’s wonderful statement that he knows a line of poetry has popped into his head when his hair bristles and he cuts himself shaving. Is that the kind of thing you mean by the body of the audience?
PINSKY: Well, there is certainly a physical sensation that even subvocalized reading of some particular Yeats or Stevens or Dickinson poem can give me, just the imagination of the sounds. This sensation is as unmistakably physical as humming or imagining a tune.
What Pinsky's describing is probably familiar to poetry lovers who read out loud, as well as many an actor who's worked on a speech. The rehearsal process, or private recitation of a poem, is a time to become better acquainted with the text. There are several theater rehearsal techniques one can use to explore a text more fully, but the most important factor is simply spending time with it. Gradually, you make it your own, although this shouldn't be from projection onto it, but through a deeper, more intimate understanding of the text itself. Robert Pinksy's wonderful Favorite Poem Project encourages this approach.
As for Bloom's political observations, regrettably, he's absolutely correct. Movement conservatism, particularly the far right, authoritarian strain that dominates these days, is mean, reckless, ferociously anti-intellectual, and occasionally downright nihilistic. While I would prefer to keep the arts separate from politics, the unfortunate fact remains that the arts, education and at times empiricism itself are being assaulted by this breed of conservatives. As long as they keep doing so, it's not only fair to point it out – it's essential. We've examined their mentality before, and surely will again (Roy Edroso often does). Art is capable of saying more than one thing at a time, and deals with nuance and ambiguity. Good art often encourages self-reflection, thoughtfulness, attentiveness and empathy. It'll keep ya honest. For all these reasons, authoritarians hate it, and if they use art at all, they try to shackle it to narrow, propagandistic goals. In one sense, treating the arts this way is their loss, but the problem is their burning desire to inflict that loss on everybody else as well.
However, as Bloom says, poetry can be a 'refuge from the bombardment' of the current climate. George Orwell wrote that "A thing is funny when it upsets the established order. Every joke is a tiny revolution." The same is true of much art, and certainly many a good poem. The reason to Sing the Body Electric isn't to make a teabagger cry – but it is a nice bonus.
Congratulations to the Eugene O'Neill Theater Center for their well-deserved Regional Theater Tony Award! The Regional Theater award has always been one of the more interesting ones to me, because it acknowledges great theater outside of New York City, and as an O'Neill alum, I'm especially partial to this one. The O'Neill is an umbrella organization for several other programs, the most famous probably being the National Playwrights Conference, the National Theater Institute, and the National Music Theater Conference. If you've ever read Long Day's Journey Into Night, you can head over to O'Neill's summer boyhood home, the Monte Cristo Cottage, where the play is set. The Center itself is a magical place. (It really needs a better website, though.)
It was fitting for the O'Neill won this year, because a revival of August Wilson's Fences won a Tony, as did lead actors Denzel Washington and Viola Davis. Fences was the first major success for Wilson, and it was developed at the O'Neill, as were several of his other plays. (It's also probably my favorite of his plays, although there are a few I still need to read.)
Preston Whiteway's acceptance speech for the O'Neill can be seen here (2010 Creative Arts Winners). I delayed this post, hoping video of Michael Douglas' segment on the O'Neill during the main ceremony would be put online, but alas, it hasn't been. (Meanwhile, Douglas' wife, Catherine Zeta-Jones, also nabbed a Tony, for best actress in a musical.)
I was saddened to see that the great South African-born actor Zakes Mokae died (apparently back in September 2009). While he did extensive character roles in film and TV (his episode on The West Wing stands out), it's hard to think of him separate from his pioneering work with South African playwright Athol Fugard.
As for the rest of the Tonys, host Sean Hayes did an excellent, funny job, as did most of the presenters. I'm interested to read or see one of the other big winners, Red. Meanwhile, Angela Lansbury – who's 84! - received a special honor, and made some nice remarks about the importance of studying one's craft, training, and the generosity of scholarships. I hadn't known she fled London as a young woman with her family and came to New York City, all due to WWII. There, a special scholarship for Brits in her situation allowed her to continue her training. It's further testimony for the cause - Support the Arts! Good things will happen.
Currently, the Los Angeles Opera is staging all four operas in Wagner's epic cycle, Der Ring des Nibelungen, directed by Achim Freyer. There are some related events around town. The official site has dates, tickets, videos, and more information. Meanwhile, local NPR show The Politics of Culture did an excellent show with LA Opera Music Director James Conlon and other guests on this production, the operas, and Wagner's artistic brilliance and personal flaws.
I've seen the whole thing, and it is memorable. I was very impressed by an earlier Freyer production, a visually arresting version of Berlioz' La Damnation of Faust. (Samuel Ramey, Denyce Graves and Paul Groves didn't hurt.) This production of the Ring (costing 32 million), is likewise highly stylized. It's not a "traditional" Ring, which may leave some first-time viewers disoriented. Some choices Freyer makes don't work, and there are a few times where, if you didn't know what was taking place on-stage already, you wouldn't know what was going on. However, that's the exception. Freyer also makes some truly inspired choices, and has clearly put enormous thought and energy into devising a visual scheme for the Ring. Wagner's operas tend to be visually static, with most of the movement in the music, and sometimes a good half-hour or more of sung plot exposition. Freyer creates a palpable mood throughout, and gives some key moments a visual punch. Most importantly, there's some glorious music and very fine singing (of demanding roles). Wagner, and specifically the Ring, isn't for everybody, but even if you don't think you know the Ring, chances are you'll recognize some of the music (especially The Ride of the Valkyries and Siegfried's Funeral March). It's sometimes said that Wagner "invented" movie music, and there's some truth to that. I've always had a soft spot for the shortest and most "action-packed" of the cycle, Das Rheingold (2 hours, 45 minutes), but Die Walküre has some extremely lovely, moving duets. I'd be very surprised if they weren't filming this version (in case you miss it), but this is event theater, and hearing classical music/opera live is something special.
Here's a brief taste:
You can see more, including interviews and short clips of each opera, on the LA Opera's YouTube channel. If you do attend any of the operas, it's well worth showing up for the lectures an hour before performance. (Meanwhile, I like Deryck Cooke's 2 CD guide to the Ring, as well as the complete Solti Ring set it samples.)
Personal notes: I only got into opera after college, a bit to my surprise, since I like plots, pacing, and performances, and opera (other than Mozart) can move very slowly and isn't always well-acted. I don't always like musicals, for similar reasons (plus many are awfully sappy). Nonetheless, a good production and/or great singer can sell the whole thing. For opera, I generally sit in the cheap seats, which alas, ain't that cheap (and I used to do standing room in D.C.). I normally like the cheap seat crowd. However, when I was seeing Die Walküre, I was surprised to hear cell phones go off and a couple talking throughout most of Act I, full voice, not whispering (no sotto). I'm guessing that one person was translating the surtitles for their friend. The thing is, most Wagner operas are long – about five hours – and the plots are generally fairly slight. You can read the plot synopsis in the program in 5-10 minutes. So why translate the surtitles? When the guy is singing to his sister that he loves her (and not in a fraternal way), he's still singing that he loves her 20 minutes later. It really does not require a line by line translation. (Eventually, the talkers were hushed by some justly irate patrons.) Oh, and did I mention that the guy singing, the one they were talking over, was Placido Domingo? Ya would think going to see bloody Wagner – plus Domingo - would self-select out such behavior, but apparently not. Anyway, that's my you-damn-kids-stay-out-of-my-opera-house story. (Meanwhile, after I went to see Götterdämarung – plus the lecture beforehand – I went to a reading of Henry V, giving me my biggest cultural overdose since college. Whew.)
Seriously, though, while I like to poke fun at Wagner occasionally, he wrote some truly beautiful music, and it can be sublime to hear, especially live. The LA Opera generally mounts good productions, and this is a memorable Ring. If you're in the general area and have the time and money to attend, consider checking it out.
April is National Poetry Month, which is appropriate, considering how many poets and authors have been inspired to use April and spring to open their works. We'll take a look at three visions of April. (I'm only posting selections; you can read more at the links.)
We'll kick it off with one Geoffrey Chaucer, and a bit of his Prologue from The Canterbury Tales:
Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote, The droghte of March hath perced to the roote And bathed every veyne in swich licour, Of which vertu engendred is the flour; Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne, And smale foweles maken melodye, That slepen al the nyght with open eye- So priketh hem Nature in hir corages- Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes; And specially, from every shires ende Of Engelond, to Caunturbury they wende, The hooly blisful martir for the seke That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke.
Everything is springing to life and full of energy. (The site above provides a modern translation if you want one, or you can go here for this section.)
Next up is T.S. Eliot, who opens his epic poem "The Waste Land" with a very different vision of April:
APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. Winter kept us warm, covering Earth in forgetful snow, feeding A little life with dried tubers. Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade, And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, And drank coffee, and talked for an hour. Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch. And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free... I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
In some circumstances, stirring memory and desire might not be so pleasant.
Lastly, we'll take a look at the opening to George Orwell's 1984:
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, thought not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a colored poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a meter wide: the face of a man of about forty-fiver, with a heavy black mustache and ruggedly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine, and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle, went slowly, resting several times on the way. On each landing, opposite the lift shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.
Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures that had something to do with the production of pig iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plate like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, thought the words were still distinguishable. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed, but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagerness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the Party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by coarse soap and blunt razor blades and the cold of the winter that had just ended.
Outside, even through the shut window pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddied of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no color in anything except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The black mustachio'd facer gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston's own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSOC. In the far distance a helicopter skimmed down between the roofs, hovered for an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the Police Patrol, snooping into people's windows. The patrols did not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered.
Something is rotten in the state of Oceania.
The Canterbury Tales-Waste Land connection is a pretty standard observation. But one of many great things about poetry, theater and literature is that authors borrow from and build on one another. Sometimes an author will try to refute another writer or start a quarrel. However, in the Arts, more often authors riff on one another, building a web of connections and continuing a dialogue that stretches back decades, centuries or even millennia. Chaucer picks April deliberately for evoking his opening images. But then Eliot plays on this. And surely Orwell plays on both in that meticulously crafted first sentence of 1984. Robert Frost riffs on William Blake. John Donne references Shakespeare, and both are referenced yet again by Eliot. Composers, musicians, painters, sculptors, playwrights and artists of all sorts do the same dance (and you may have your own favorite examples). On one level, it's all a very clever game. But on another, it's an expression of deep love.
It's all film today. Congratulations to Liv Ullman, who just turned 71. She's quite a good director, and an exceptional actress. Her performance in Scenes from a Marriage is one of the best I've ever seen.
Elvis Mitchell's radio show The Treatment has been especially interesting recently. Two weeks ago, he sat down with director and mad genius Werner Herzog, who offers some great (and unconventional) advice for becoming a good filmmaker. Herzog's mainly talking about his new film, The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans. (The title is not his fault.) I just saw it this past weekend. It's not for people who like their main characters virtuous, because Nicholas Cage as Police Detective Terence McDonagh is more than a little "bad." But it's also hard to take your eyes off him. He's shockingly sleazy, crazy, surprisingly effective at his job at times, but always engrossing. It's Cage's best performance in a few years, Herzog shoots the film through with dark, wild humor, and the two of them make a great pairing.
The latest Treatment was with Viggo Mortensen, who's excellent in the film adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's The Road. It's an extremely bleak movie (as is the book on which it is based), but if you're up for it, certain scenes are haunting. memorable and moving. Like Ullman and Herzog, Mortensen just seems like a really cool, well-rounded human being. At one point he quoted Eleanor Roosevelt, in a line that seems especially relevant given the political battles of our time: "When will our consciences grow so tender that we act to prevent misery rather than avenge it?"
I was just watching Pete Seeger's 90th Birthday Celebration on PBS. American Masters did a good piece on him, and he just played the 50th Newport Folk Festival this past weekend. I've written about Pete twice before this year (here and here), but I figure it's best to celebrate the guy while he's still around. Pete has seen a great deal over the course of his life. He made a great observation in an interview segment about how these days, he finds people proud of the diversity in the cities and towns, unlike years ago.
The Wiki entry on Pete Seeger is pretty good, and I won't go over all his contributions here. But among other things, Pete helped introduce music to several generations of kids. KCET, one of my local PBS stations, was doing a fundraiser during the program, and were stressing how important the arts are in childhood development. The arts help older kids, too, and adults as well, but the arts fuel learning in a special way. While all the arts are great, music is especially good at cutting across language barriers, and getting people engaged. Pete's been getting classrooms and audiences singing for a long time now.
One of many other reasons to admire Pete Seeger, though, is the way he dealt with the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC). Watching the program, I felt the urge to read up on that episode again. Despite the threat of jail time, Pete felt compelled to push back against bullying and stand up for the Constitution. A good Pete Seeger appreciation site has his full testimony. I just had to post the whole thing. It's long for a post, but worth your time.
House Unamerican Activities Committee
August 18, 1955
Pete Seeger
A Subcommittee of the Committee on Un-American Activities met at 10 a.m., in room 1703 of the Federal Building, Foley Square, New York, New York, the Honorable Francis E. Walter (Chairman) presiding.
Committee members present: Representatives Walter, Edwin E. Willis, and Gordon H. Scherer.
Staff members present: Frank S. Tavenner, Jr., Counsel; Donald T. Appell and Frank Bonora, Investigators; and Thomas W. Beale, Sr., Chief Clerk.
MR. TAVENNER: When and where were you born, Mr. Seeger?
MR. SEEGER: I was born in New York in 1919.
MR. TAVENNER: What is your profession or occupation?
MR. SEEGER: Well, I have worked at many things, and my main profession is a student of American folklore, and I make my living as a banjo picker-sort of damning, in some people's opinion.
MR. TAVENNER Has New York been your headquarters for a considerable period of time?
MR. SEEGER: No, I lived here only rarely until I left school, and after a year or two or a few years living here after World War II I got back to the country, where I always felt more at home.
MR. TAVENNER: You say that you were in the Armed Forces of the United States?
MR. SEEGER: About three and a half years.
MR. TAVENNER: Will you tell us please the period of your service?
MR. SEEGER: I went in in July 1942 and I was mustered out in December 1945.
MR. TAVENNER: Did you attain the rank of an officer?
MR. SEEGER: No. After about a year I made Pfc, and just before I got out I got to be T-5, which is in the equivilant of a corporal's rating, a long hard pull.
MR. TAVENNER: Mr. Seeger, prior to your entry in the service in 1942, were you engaged in the practice of your profession in the area of New York?
MR. SEEGER: It is hard to call it a profession. I kind of drifted into it and I never intended to be a musician, and I am glad I am one now, and it is a very honorable profession, but when I started out actually I wanted to be a newspaperman, and when I left school –
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Will you answer the question, please?
MR. SEEGER: I have to explain that it really wasn't my profession, I picked up a little change in it.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Did you practice your profession?
MR. SEEGER: I sang for people, yes, before World War II, and I also did as early as 1925.
MR. TAVENNER: And upon your return from the service in December of 1945, you continued in your profession?
MR. SEEGER: I continued singing, and I expect I always will.
MR. TAVENNER: The Committee has information obtained in part from the Daily Worker indicating that, over a period of time, especially since December of 1945, you took part in numerous entertainment features. I have before me a photostatic copy of the June 20, 1947, issue of the Daily Worker. In a column entitled "What's On" appears this advertisement: "Tonight-Bronx, hear Peter Seeger and his guitar, at Allerton Section housewarming." May I ask you whether or not the Allerton Section was a section of the Communist Party?
MR. SEEGER: Sir, I refuse to answer that question whether it was a quote from the New York Times or the Vegetarian Journal.
MR. TAVENNER: I don't believe there is any more authoritative document in regard to the Communist Party than its official organ, the Daily Worker.
MR. SCHERER: He hasn't answered the question, and he merely said he wouldn't answer whether the article appeared in the New York Times or some other magazine. I ask you to direct the witness to answer the question.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer.
MR. SEEGER: Sir, the whole line of questioning-
CHAIRMAN WALTER: You have only been asked one question, so far.
MR. SEEGER: I am not going to answer any questions as to my association, my philosophical or religious beliefs or my political beliefs, or how I voted in any election, or any of these private affairs. I think these are very improper questions for any American to be asked, especially under such compulsion as this. I would be very glad to tell you my life if you want to hear of it.
MR. TAVENNER: Has the witness declined to answer this specific question?
CHAIRMAN WALTER: He said that he is not going to answer any questions, any names or things.
MR. SCHERER: He was directed to answer the question.
MR. TAVENNER: I have before me a photostatic copy of the April 30, 1948, issue of the Daily Worker which carries under the same title of "What's On," an advertisement of a "May Day Rally: For Peace, Security and Democracy." The advertisement states: "Are you in a fighting mood? Then attend the May Day rally." Expert speakers are stated to be slated for the program, and then follows a statement, "Entertainment by Pete Seeger." At the bottom appears this: "Auspices Essex County Communist Party," and at the top, "Tonight, Newark, N.J." Did you lend your talent to the Essex County Communist Party on the occasion indicated by this article from the Daily Worker?
MR. SEEGER: Mr. Walter, I believe I have already answered this question, and the same answer.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: The same answer. In other words, you mean that you decline to answer because of the reasons stated before?
MR. SEEGER: I gave my answer, sir.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: What is your answer?
MR. SEEGER: You see, sir, I feel-
CHAIRMAN WALTER: What is your answer?
MR. SEEGER: I will tell you what my answer is.
(Witness consulted with counsel [Paul L. Ross].)
I feel that in my whole life I have never done anything of any conspiratorial nature and I resent very much and very deeply the implication of being called before this Committee that in some way because my opinions may be different from yours, or yours, Mr. Willis, or yours, Mr. Scherer, that I am any less of an American than anybody else. I love my country very deeply, sir.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Why don't you make a little contribution toward preserving its institutions?
MR. SEEGER: I feel that my whole life is a contribution. That is why I would like to tell you about it.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I don't want to hear about it.
MR. SCHERER: I think that there must be a direction to answer.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer that question.
MR. SEEGER: I have already given you my answer, sir.
MR. SCHERER: Let me understand. You are not relying on the Fifth Amendment, are you?
MR. SEEGER: No, sir, although I do not want to in any way discredit or depreciate or depredate the witnesses that have used the Fifth Amendment, and I simply feel it is improper for this committee to ask such questions.
MR. SCHERER: And then in answering the rest of the questions, or in refusing to answer the rest of the questions, I understand that you are not relying on the Fifth Amendment as a basis for your refusal to answer?
MR. SEEGER: No, I am not, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: I have before me a photostatic copy of May 4,1949, issue of the Daily Worker, which has an article entitled, "May Day Smash Review Put on by Communist Cultural Division, On Stage," and the article was written by Bob Reed. This article emphasizes a production called Now Is the Time, and it says this: Now Is the Time was a hard-hitting May Day show of songs and knife-edged satire. New songs and film strips walloped the enemies of the people in what the singers called "Aesopian language." And other persons [participated], including Pete Seeger. Lee Hays is recited to be the MC, or master of ceremonies. Did you take part in this May Day program under the auspices of the Music Section of the Cultural Division of the Communist Party?
MR. SEEGER: Mr. Chairman, the answer is the same as before.
MR. SCHERER: I think we have to have a direction.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer the question.
MR. SEEGER: I have given you my answer, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: The article contains another paragraph, as follows: This performance of Now Is the Time was given in honor of the twelve indicted Communist Party leaders. And then it continues with Bob Reed's account of the show: This reviewer has never seen a show which stirred its audience more. Add up new material, fine personal and group performances, overwhelming audience response-the result was a significant advance in the people's cultural movement. Now Is the Time is that rare phenomenon, a political show in which performers and audience had a lot of fun. It should be repeated for large audiences. Mr. Lee Hays was asked, while he was on the witness stand, whether or not he wrote that play, and he refused to answer. Do you know whether he was the originator of the script?
MR. SEEGER: Do I know whether he was the originator of the script? Again my answer is the same. However, if you want to question me about any songs, I would be glad to tell you, sir.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: That is what you are being asked about now.
MR. TAVENNER: You said that you would tell us about the songs. Did you participate in a program at Wingdale Lodge in the State of New York, which is a summer camp for adults and children, on the weekend of July Fourth of this year?
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SEEGER: Again, I say I will be glad to tell what songs I have ever sung, because singing is my business.
MR. TAVENNER: I am going to ask you.
MR. SEEGER: But I decline to say who has ever listened to them, who has written them, or other people who have sung them.
MR. TAVENNER: Did you sing this song, to which we have referred, "Now Is the Time," at Wingdale Lodge on the weekend of July Fourth?
MR. SEEGER: I don't know any song by that name, and I know a song with a similar name. It is called "Wasn't That a Time." Is that the song?
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Did you sing that song?
MR. SEEGER: I can sing it. I don't know how well I can do it without my banjo.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I said, Did you sing it on that occasion?
MR. SEEGER: I have sung that song. I am not going to go into where I have sung it. I have sung it many places.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Did you sing it on this particular occasion? That is what you are being asked.
MR. SEEGER: Again my answer is the same.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: You said that you would tell us about it.
MR. SEEGER: I will tell you about the songs, but I am not going to tell you or try to explain-
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer the question. Did you sing this particular song on the Fourth of July at Wingdale Lodge in New York?
MR. SEEGER: I have already given you my answer to that question, and all questions such as that. I feel that is improper: to ask about my associations and opinions. I have said that I would be voluntarily glad to tell you any song, or what I have done in my life.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I think it is my duty to inform you that we don't accept this answer and the others, and I give you an opportunity now to answer these questions, particularly the last one.
MR. SEEGER: Sir, my answer is always the same.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: All right, go ahead, Mr. Tavenner.
MR. TAVENNER: Were you chosen by Mr. Elliott Sullivan to take part in the program on the weekend of July Fourth at Wingdale Lodge?
MR. SEEGER: The answer is the same, sir.
MR. WILLIS: Was that the occasion of the satire on the Constitution and the Bill of Rights?
MR. TAVENNER: The same occasion, yes, sir. I have before me a photostatic copy of a page from the June 1, 1949, issue of the Daily Worker, and in a column entitled "Town Talk" there is found this statement: The first performance of a new song, "If I Had a Hammer," on the theme of the Foley Square trial of the Communist leaders, will he given at a testimonial dinner for the 12 on Friday night at St. Nicholas Arena. . . .Among those on hand for the singing will be . . . Pete Seeger, and Lee Hays-and others whose names are mentioned. Did you take part in that performance?
MR. SEEGER: I shall he glad to answer about the song, sir, and I am not interested in carrying on the line of questioning about where I have sung any songs.
MR. TAVENNER: I ask a direction.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: You may not he interested, but we are, however. I direct you to answer. You can answer that question.
MR. SEEGER: I feel these questions are improper, sir, and I feel they are immoral to ask any American this kind of question.
MR. TAVENNER: Have you finished your answer?
MR. SEEGER: Yes, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: I desire to offer the document in evidence and ask that it be marked "Seeger exhibit No.4," for identification only, and to be made a part of the Committee files.
MR. SEEGER: I am sorry you are not interested in the song. It is a good song.
MR. TAVENNER: Were you present in the hearing room while the former witnesses testified?
MR. SEEGER: I have been here all morning, yes, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: I assume then that you heard me read the testimony of Mr. [Elia] Kazan about the purpose of the Communist Party in having its actors entertain for the henefit of Communist fronts and the Communist Party. Did you hear that testimony?
MR. SEEGER: Yes, I have heard all of the testimony today.
MR. TAVENNER: Did you hear Mr. George Hall's testimony yesterday in which he stated that, as an actor, the special contribution that he was expected to make to the Communist Party was to use his talents by entertaining at Communist Party functions? Did you hear that testimony?
MR. SEEGER: I didn't hear it, no.
MR. TAVENNER: It is a fact that he so testified. I want to know whether or not you were engaged in a similar type of service to the Communist Party in entertaining at these features.
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SEEGER: I have sung for Americans of every political persuasion, and I am proud that I never refuse to sing to an audience, no matter what religion or color of their skin, or situation in life. I have sung in hobo jungles, and I have sung for the Rockefellers, and I am proud that I have never refused to sing for anybody. That is the only answer I can give along that line.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Mr. Tavenner, are you getting around to that letter? There was a letter introduced yesterday that I think was of greater importance than any bit of evidence adduced at these hearings, concerning the attempt made to influence people in this professional performers' guild and union to assist a purely Communist cause which had no relation whatsoever to the arts and the theater. Is that what you are leading up to?
MR. TAVENNER: Yes, it is. That was the letter of Peter Lawrence, which I questioned him about yesterday. That related to the trial of the Smith Act defendants here at Foley Square. I am trying to inquire now whether this witness was party to the same type of propaganda effort by the Communist Party.
MR. SCHERER: There has been no answer to your last question.
MR. TAVENNER: That is right; may I have a direction?
MR. SEEGER: Would you repeat the question? I don't even know what the last question was, and I thought I have answered all of them up to now.
MR. TAVENNER: What you stated was not in response to the question.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Proceed with the questioning, Mr. Tavenner.
MR. TAVENNER: I believe, Mr. Chairman, with your permission, I will have the question read to him. I think it should be put in exactly the same form.
(Whereupon the reporter read the pending question as above recorded.)
MR. SEEGER: "These features": what do you mean? Except for the answer I have already given you, I have no answer. The answer I gave you you have, don't you? That is, that I am proud that I have sung for Americans of every political persuasion, and I have never refused to sing for anybody because I disagreed with their political opinion, and I am proud of the fact that my songs seem to cut across and find perhaps a unifying thing, basic humanity,and that is why I would love to be able to tell you about these songs, because I feel that you would agree with me more, sir. I know many beautiful songs from your home county, Carbon, and Monroe, and I hitchhiked through there and stayed in the homes of miners.
MR. TAVENNER: My question was whether or not you sang at these functions of the Communist Party. You have answered it inferentially, and if I understand your answer, you are saying you did.
MR. SEEGER: Except for that answer, I decline to answer further.
MR. TAVENNER: Did you sing at functions of the Communist Party, at Communist Party requests?
MR. SEEGER: I believe, sir, that a good twenty minutes ago, I gave my answer to this whole line of questioning.
MR. TAVENNER: Yes, but you have now beclouded your answer by your statement, and I want to make certain what you mean. Did you sing at the Communist Party functions which I have asked you about, as a Communist Party duty?
MR. SEEGER: I have already indicated that I am not interested, and I feel it is improper to say who has sung my songs or who I have sung them to, especially under such compulsion as this.
MR. TAVENNER: Have you been a member of the Communist Party since 1947?
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SEEGER: The same answer, sir.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer that question.
MR. SEEGER: I must give the same answer as before.
MR. TAVENNER: I have a throwaway sheet entitled "Culture Fights Back, 1953," showing entertainment at the Capitol Hotel, Carnival Room, Fifty-first Street at Eighth Avenue, in 1953, sponsored by the Committee to Defend V. J. Jerome. It indicates that Pete Seeger was one of those furnishing the entertainment. Will you tell the Committee, please, whether or not you were asked to perform on that occasion, and whether or not you did, either as a Communist Party directive, or as what you considered to be a duty to the Communist Party?
MR. SEEGER: I believe I have answered this already.
MR. TAVENNER: Are you acquainted with V. J. Jerome?
MR. SEEGER: I have already told you, sir, that I believe my associations, whatever they are, are my own private affairs.
MR. TAVENNER: You did know, at that time, in 1953, that V. J. Jerome was a cultural head of the Communist Party and one of the Smith Act defendants in New York City?
MR. SEEGER: Again the same answer, sir.
MR. SCHERER: You refuse to answer that question?
MR. SEEGER: Yes, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: I hand you a photograph which was taken of the May Day parade in New York City in 1952, which shows the front rank of a group of individuals, and one is in a uniform with military cap and insignia, and carrying a placard entitled CENSORED. Will you examine it please and state whether or not that is a photograph of you?
(A document was handed to the witness.)
MR. SEEGER: It is like Jesus Christ when asked by Pontius Pilate, "Are you king of the Jews?"
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Stop that.
MR. SEEGER: Let someone else identify that picture.
MR. SCHERER: I ask that he be directed to answer the question.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer the question.
MR. SEEGER: Do I identify this photograph?
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Yes.
MR. SEEGER: I say let someone else identify it.
MR. TAVENNER: I desire to offer the document in evidence and ask that it be marked "Seeger exhibit No.6."
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Make it a part of the record.
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. TAVENNER: It is noted that the individual mentioned is wearing a military uniform. That was in May of 1952, and the statute of limitations would have run by now as to any offense for the improper wearing of the uniform, and will you tell the Committee whether or not you took part in that May Day program wearing a uniform of an American soldier?
MR. SEEGER: The same answer as before, sir.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer that question.
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SCHERER: I think the record should show that the witness remains mute, following the direction by the Chairman to answer that question.
MR. SEEGER: The same answer, sir, as before.
MR. SCHERER: Again, I understand that you are not invoking the Fifth Amendment?
MR. SEEGER: That is correct.
MR. SCHERER: We are not accepting the answers or the reasons you gave.
MR. SEEGER: That is your prerogative, sir.
MR. SCHERER: Do you understand it is the feeling of the Committee that you are in contempt as a result of the position you take?
MR. SEEGER: I can't say.
MR. SCHERER: I am telling you that that is the position of the Committee.
MR. TAVENNER: The Daily Worker of April 21, 1948, at page 7, contains a notice that Pete Seeger was a participant in an affair for Ferdinand Smith. Will you tell the Committee what the occasion was at which you took part?
MR. SEEGER: I hate to waste the Committee's time, but I think surely you must realize by now that my answer is the same.
MR. TAVENNER: Do you know whether Ferdinand Smith was under deportation orders at that time?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: I think that he was not under deportation orders until a little later than that.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: What is his name?
MR. TAVENNER: Ferdinand Smith, a Communist Party member and former vice-president of the maritime union. My purpose in asking you these questions, Mr. Seeger, is to determine whether or not, in accordance with the plan of the Communist Party as outlined by Mr. Kazan and Mr. George Hall, you were performing a valuable service to the Communist Party, and if that was the way they attempted to use you.
MR. SEEGER: Is that a question, sir?
MR. TAVENNER: That is my explanation to you, with the hope that you will give the Committee some light on that subject.
MR. SEEGER: No, my answer is the same as before.
MR. TAVENNER: Did you also perform and entertain at various functions held by front organizations, such as the American Youth for Democracy? I have here photostatic copies of the Daily Worker indicating such programs were conducted in Detroit in 1952, at Greenwich Village on May 10, 1947, and again at another place in March of 1948. Did you entertain at functions under the auspices of the American Youth for Democracy?
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SEEGER: The answer is the same, and I take it that you are not interested in all of the different places that I have sung. Why don't you ask me about the churches and schools and other places?
MR. TAVENNER: That is very laudable, indeed, and I wish only that your activities had been confined to those areas. If you were acting for the Communist Party at these functions, we want to know it. We want to determine just what the Communist Party plan was.
MR. SCHERER: Witness, you have indicated that you are perfectly willing to tell us about all of these innumerable functions at which you entertained, but why do you refuse to tell us about the functions that Mr. Tavenner inquires about?
MR. SCHERER: Didn't you just say that you sang before various religious groups, school groups?
MR. SEEGER: I have said it and I will say it again, and I have sung for perhaps-
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SCHERER: You are willing to tell us about those groups?
MR. SEEGER: I am saying voluntarily that I have sung for almost every religious group in the country, from Jewish and Catholic, and Presbyterian and Holy Rollers and Revival Churches, and I do this voluntarily. I have sung for many, many different groups-and it is hard for perhaps one person to believe, I was looking back over the twenty years or so that I have sung around these forty-eight states, that I have sung in so many different places.
MR. SCHERER: Did you sing before the groups that Mr. Tavenner asked you about?
MR. SEEGER: I am saying that my answer is the same as before. I have told you that I sang for everybody.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Wait a minute. You sang for everybody. Then are we to believe, or to take it, that you sang at the places Mr. Tavenner mentioned?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: What is that?
MR. SEEGER: It seems to me like the third time I have said it, if not the fourth.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Maybe it is the fifth, but say it again. I want to know what your answer is.
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SEEGER: I decline to discuss, under compulsion, where I have sung, and who has sung my songs, and who else has sung with me, and the people I have known. I love my country very dearly, and I greatly resent this implication that some of the places that I have sung and some of the people that I have known, and some of my opinions, whether they are religious or philosophical, or I might be a vegetarian, make me any less of an American. I will tell you about my songs, but I am not interested in telling you who wrote them, and I will tell you about my songs, and I am not interested in who listened to them.
MR. TAVENNER: According to the Daily Worker, there was a conference program of the Civil Rights Congress on April 2, 1949, at which you were one of the performers. On August 27, 1949, the People's Artists presented a summer musicale at Lakeland Acres picnic grounds, Peekskill, New York, for the benefit of the Harlem chapter of the Civil Rights Congress, at which you were a participant. At another meeting of the Civil Rights Congress of New York, around May 11, 1946, you were a participant. Will you tell the Committee, please, under what circumstances you performed, because you have said that you sang at all sorts of meetings. Under what circumstances were your services acquired on those occasions?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir. I can only infer from your lack of interest in my songs that you are actually scared to know what these songs are like, because there is nothing wrong with my songs, sir. Do you know-
MR. SCHERER: You said you want to talk about your songs, and I will give you an opportunity. Tell us what songs you sang at Communist Party meetings?
MR. SEEGER: I will tell you about the songs that I have sung any place.
MR. SCHERER: I want to know the ones that you sang at Communist Party meetings, because those are the songs about which we can inquire. Just tell us one song that you sang at a Communist Party meeting.
MR. SEEGER: Mr. Scherer, it seems to me that you heard my testimony, and that is a ridiculous question, because you know what my answer is.
MR. TAVENNER: Mr. George Hall testified that the entertainment that he engaged in, at the instance of the Communist Party, was not songs of a political character. He did say, however, that he was expected by the Communist Party to perform in order to raise money for the Communist Party. Now, did you, as Mr. Hall did, perform in order to raise money for Communist Party causes?
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SEEGER: I don't care what Mr. Hall says, and my answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: That you refuse to answer?
MR. SEEGER: I have given my answer.
MR. SCHERER: Was Mr. Hall telling the truth when he told the Committee about the entertainment he engaged in at the instance of the Communist Party?
MR. SEEGER: I don't feel like discussing what Mr. Hall said.
MR. TAVENNER: The American Committee for Yugoslav Relief has been designated as a front organization. According to the October 22, 1947, issue of the Daily People's World, in California, Pete Seeger headed the list of entertainers to appear at a picnic given by the Southern California chapter of that organization. Did you participate in that program?
MR. SEEGER: If you have a hundred more photostats there, it seems silly for me to give you the same answer a hundred more times.
MR. TAVENNER: What is your answer?
MR. SEEGER: It is the same as before, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: There are various peace groups in the country which have utilized your services, are there not?
MR. SEEGER: I have sung for pacifists and I have sung for soldiers.
MR. TAVENNER: According to the Daily Worker of September 6, 1940, you were scheduled as a singer at a mass meeting of the American Peace Mobilization at Turner's Arena, in Washington, D.C. What were the circumstances under which you were requested to take part in that performance?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: You were a member of the American Peace Mobilization, were you not?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before.
MR. TAVENNER: Were you not a delegate to the Chicago convention of the American Peace Mobilization on September 5, 1940?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Is that organization subversive?
MR. TAVENNER: Yes.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: What is the name of it?
MR. TAVENNER: American Peace Mobilization, and it was the beginning of these peace organizations, back in 1940. Did you take part in the American Peace Crusade program in Chicago in April of 1954?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before. Of course, I would be curious to know what you think of a song like this very great Negro spiritual, "I'm Gonna Lay Down My Sword and Shield, Down by the Riverside."
MR. TAVENNER: That is not at all responsive to my question.
MR. SEEGER: I gave you my answer before I even said that.
MR. TAVENNER: If you refuse to answer, I think that you should not make a speech.
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. TAVENNER: Did you also perform a service for the California Labor School in Los Angeles by putting on musical programs there?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: Did you teach in the California Labor School?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. SCHERER: I think for the record you should state whether the California Labor School has been cited.
MR. TAVENNER: It has.
MR. SCHERER: As subversive and Communist dominated?
MR. TAVENNER: Yes, it has been.
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. TAVENNER: Did you also teach at the Jefferson School of Social Science here in the city of New York?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. SCHERER: I ask that you direct him to answer.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer. Did you teach at the Jefferson School here at New York?
MR. SEEGER: I feel very silly having to repeat the same thing over and over again, but my answer is exactly the same as before, sir.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: Has the Jefferson School of Social Science been cited?
MR. TAVENNER: Yes, and it has been required to register under the 1950 Internal Security Act.
MR. SCHERER: There are a number of people here who taught at that school, Mr. Walter.
MR. TAVENNER: I desire to offer in evidence a photostatic copy of an article from the September 21, 1946, issue of the Daily Worker which refers to music courses at Jefferson School, and I call attention to the last sentence in the article wherein Peter Seeger is mentioned as a leader in one of the courses. * * * According to the March 18, 1948, issue of the Daily Worker, it is indicated that you would entertain at a musical presented by the Jefferson Workers' Bookshop. According to the November 25, 1948, issue of the same paper you would perform also under the auspices of the Jefferson School of Social Science. Also you were a participant in a program advertised in the Daily Worker of June 1, 1950, put on by the Jefferson School of Social Science, and according to an issue of February 15, 1954, of the same paper, you were expected to play and lecture on songs and ballads in the Jefferson School. Will you tell the Committee, please, what were the circumstances under which you engaged in those programs, if you did?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: Did you also engage in performances for the Labor Youth League in 1954?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before. Did you think that I sing propaganda songs or something?
MR. TAVENNER: In 1947, what was your connection with an organization known as People's Songs?
(Witness consulted with counsel.)
MR. SEEGER: I take the same answer as before regarding any organization or any association I have.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: What was People's Songs, Mr. Tavenner?
MR. TAVENNER: People's Songs was an organization which, according to its issue of February and March 1947, was composed of a number of persons on the board of directors who have been called before this Committee or identified by this Committee as members of the Communist Party, and the purpose of which, from information made available to the Committee, was to extend services to the Communist Party in its entertainment projects. Mr. Lee Hays was a member of the board of directors, was he not, along with you, in this organization?
(Witness consulted with counsel)
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: Were you not the editor of People's Songs, and a member of the board of directors in 1947?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before.
MR. TAVENNER: You were actually the national director of this organization, were you not?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before.
MR. TAVENNER: Was the organization founded by Alan Lomax?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before.
MR. TAVENNER: Was the booking agent of People's Songs an organization known as People's Artists?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same.
MR. TAVENNER: Will you tell the Committee, please, whether or not during the weekend of July 4, 1955, you were a member of the Communist Party?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before, sir.
MR. TAVENNER: Were you a member of the Communist Party at any time during the various entertainment features in which you were alleged to have engaged?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same.
MR. TAVENNER: Are you a member of the Communist Party now?
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same.
MR. SCHERER: I ask for a direction on that question.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: I direct you to answer.
MR. SEEGER: My answer is the same as before.
MR. TAVENNER: I have no further questions, Mr. Chairman.
CHAIRMAN WALTER: The witness is excused.
Pete Seeger was sentenced to a year in jail for contempt of Congress but appealed his case successfully after a fight that lasted until 1962.
I find that pretty inspiring. Pete Seeger is a national treasure, the real deal, a patriot and a truly great American. He's got some wonderful lines there. In addition to his opening statement, the hobo speech is stirring, and I like when he mentions the specific counties to his interrogators. Still, one of my favorite lines is actually: "I am sorry you are not interested in the song. It is a good song."
If someone's incensed by a line like that, it's a sign he or she shouldn't be trusted.
But if you get what Pete's talking about - you're probably on the right side.
As the saying goes, if you can walk, you can dance, and if you can speak, you can sing.
Mr. ROBESON: I say that he is as patriotic an American as there can be, and you gentlemen belong with the Alien and Sedition Acts, and you are the nonpatriots, and you are the un-Americans, and you ought to be ashamed of yourselves.
(Pablo Picasso, "Woman with Fan." Oil on canvas. 1909. The Pushkin Museum of Fine Art, Moscow, Russia.)
"Whatever creativity is, it is in part a solution to a problem." - Brian Aldiss
In "This is why I blog every. single. day." the indefatigable Blue Gal posts a great video clip (via 43 Folders) of Ira Glass of This American Life on being creative and refining one's craft. It's great stuff:
Glass really spurs many thoughts. A tiny rhyming dictionary for songwriters I own has a great line in the preface about everyone having one hundred bad songs in them. I used to joke about getting the hundred bad songs out of the way to write the good ones. Whatever the art or craft, practice is essential, and not everything's for public consumption. Similarly, in Russia, the word for a play rehearsal is repeteetsiya, repetition.
There's a reason it's called a play, though — and most serious Russian theater tries to use repetition to become more honest, not more rote. But one of Stanislavski's last observations on theater was that it should be "Higher, lighter, simpler, more joyful." That goes well with actor Michael Chekhov's imperative, Zdyes, ceychas, civodnya, "Here, now, today," or the Zen principles to "Pay Attention" and "Be Here Now."
I had a particular writing teacher who firmly believed you needed to put in the time, which I appreciated, but he subscribed to a very mechanistic model of writing, where the more time you spent on something, the better it got. Inspiration was pretty much a foreign concept to him. I believe it was screenwriter David Koepp who observed that after the fourth major rewrite of a script, it either changes completely or it gets worse. If one's writing for hire, that's one thing, but if it's an extensive piece and more personal, there's nothing wrong with putting it aside for a time and working on something else. Everyone has his or her own best process, and it may involve grinding through a rough patch, especially if one has a deadline, or showing respect for an idea by leaving it alone for a while, or recognizing a piece is done and that one shouldn't meddle with it further.
The character Flan, an art dealer, in John Guare's play Six Degrees of Separation, has a great monologue which includes this passage:
When the kids were little, we went to a parent's meeting at their school and I asked the teacher why all her children were geniuses in the second grade? Look at the first grade. Blotches of green and black. Look at the third grade. Camouflage. But the second grade — your grade. Matisses everyone. You've made my child a Matisse. Let me study with you. Let me into the second grade! What is your secret? And this is what she said: "Secret? I don't have a secret. I just know when to take their drawings away from them."
I've always felt that there was something a bit sad, and creepy, about that story. Who the hell takes a drawing away from a kid? Shouldn't the kid decide when a picture is "done"? Still, that's about the teacher. Flan's perspective is about being open to seeing beauty where he wasn't expecting it, how it startles him and stirs something vital inside.
I once heard that, as a writer, if you read something you wrote several years ago and you're completely satisfied, you're in trouble. There are exceptions to this rule, and there's such a thing as being too neurotic or too much of a perfectionist, but there is a sweet spot of healthy dissatisfaction, or at least a zeal for pushing forward and not resting on one's laurels. Ravi Shankar reportedly said "One does learn to play the sitar. One studies it." The most accomplished musicians typically practice several hours every day, partially for joy, partially just to stay sharp, partially to learn something new. It's the same for all the arts. The process never ends, and that is an exciting thing.
It can be very helpful to seek out good teachers, especially for specialized skills, certain disciplines, or when beginning a pursuit. However, being to some degree self-taught, or taking over one's own education or craft or artistry, is also essential. Some of this depends on how serious one is about a pursuit, or to cite Aaron Copeland, which of his three levels of listening to music one is employing. There are disciplines where a basic or detailed knowledge of the history is pretty crucial. But innovation requires the courage not to hide behind tradition when it's a hindrance. Picasso supposedly was asked once by a woman, 'Why, when you can draw so beautifully, do you make such pieces?' to which he supposedly replied, 'That's why.'
When it comes to the studying of history and cultures, or cooking, or some arts and crafts, I find people who are in some significant way self-taught are often the most fascinating. They're typically less afraid of experimenting and less bound by convention. They're more aware of their abilities and deficiencies. They're more excited, and exciting. It goes along with the old educational axiom: I hear and I forget, I see and I remember, I do and I understand. There also comes a point where one must trust one's own basic judgment and instincts.
I remember a class where the book we were assigned on directing actors started by listing things not to do as a director. I really didn't like that negative slant, and had to put it aside. It wasn't that bad a book actually, and had at least one good piece of advice later on, but it was a book designed for people who had never acted, or done theater, or worked with an actor. That wasn't me — not that I thought I'd mastered the craft or anything. But at that point, I'd done enough plays to have full faith in the rehearsal process and the joy of discovery. I knew by then the best move was to plunge into that process, to give myself over to it, similar to what Peter Brook speaks of in The Empty Space (a phenomenal book), and that second-guessing myself, thinking about "not" doing something was precisely the wrong approach — for me, at least.
Still, the thing about creativity that always concerns me the most is how easy it can be for any of us to crush our own spirits or allow others to crush them. There's a short piece that Robert Fulghum ( All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten) wrote back around 1992 or so (I cited it a few times back during my brief teaching stints).
Fulghum speaks of visiting a kindergarten and asking, who can sing? Everyone raises their hands. Who can draw? A forest of hands. Who can dance? Again, everyone. Everyone can do anything and everything.
As Fulghum points out, when he asks the same questions of a college audience, the response is quite different — only a few hands go up, and almost always with qualifications. I can draw, but only stick figures. I can dance, but not very well. I sing — but only in the shower.
Somewhere in between college and kindergarten, many of us lose part or all of our belief in our ability to sing, to have a vision, or possess a dream. We do not always view ourselves as artistic or creative beings.
One of the places I studied, the National Theater Institute at the Eugene O'Neill Center, adopted a great axiom: Take a risk. Fail. Take another risk. The best educational and artistic communities support exactly that attitude, with excitement and enthusiasm.
I do think many people are creative in small ways they may not even recognize or value. The arts, or more generally creativity, is something vital, and it's one of many reasons, if I had my druthers, I'd give at least a few billion apiece to the National Endowments for the Arts and for the Humanities. I guarantee it would have a very positive effect that would ripple outward.
I could go on to cite Roger von Oech, Annie Dillard, Natalie Goldberg, or any of a number of artists and writers who inspire me, including Orwell, Bulgakov, Brecht, Molière, Dostoyevsky, Kurosawa, Bergman, Peter Shaffer, more comedians and comic writers than I could name, and that Shakespeare fella. But let me end with a passage from The Personal Life Deeply Lived, a lecture by Anaïs Nin:
Tonight I was asked to talk about writing, not writing as literature, but writing as intimately connected with our lives — I would even say as necessary to our lives... And now I want to tell you, from the very beginning, how this writing happened to become for me so linked with life and how it was a necessary part of living. When I as nine years old a doctor made an erroneous diagnosis and said I would never walk again. My first reaction then was to ask for pencil and paper and to start making portraits of the members of my family. Then this continued in the forms of notes which I gathered into a little notebook and even wrote on it "Member of the French Academy." Quite obviously there was then a turning to writing as a way of life because I thought I was going to be deprived of the normal activities of a child or an adolescent. But I'm trying to use this as an example of the importance of writing as a way of learning to live; for when I was able to walk again and there was no question of the impediment, the writing remained a source of contact with myself and with others.
It's also very symbolic that when I was asked once to go to a masquerade in which we had to dress as our madness I put my head in a bird cage. And coming out of the bird cage was a sort of ticker tape of the unconscious, long strips of paper on which I had copied a great deal of writing. This was, of course, a very clear symbol of how I hoped to escape from my cage.
You might say, however, when you are reading the Diary now: "Oh well, it was easy for you, you could write well." But I want you to know that at twenty I wrote very badly, and I purposely gave my first novel to the library of Northwestern University so that students could see the difference between the writing I did at twenty and the writing I do now. The mistake we make when we choose a model is that we choose the point of arrival. We are unaware of the things that have been overcome, like shyness, or not being able to speak in public (I couldn't speak to the people I knew). The final achievements are what we notice and then say: "Well it's no use modeling ourselves after this or that writer because we don't have those particular gifts." I didn't have any particular gift in my twenties. I didn't have any exceptional qualities. It was the persistence and the great love of my craft which finally became a discipline, which finally made me a craftsman and a writer.
The only reason I finally was able to say exactly what I felt was because, like a pianist practising, I wrote every day. There was no more than that. There was no studying of writing, there was no literary discipline, there was only the reading and receiving of experience. And I had to be open because I had to write it in the diary.
So I would like to remove from everyone the feeling that writing is something that is only done by a few gifted people. I want to eliminate this instantly... You shouldn't think that someone who achieves fulfillment in writing and a certain art in writing is necessarily a person with unusual gifts. I always said that it was an unusual stubbornness. Nothing prevented me from doing it every night, after every day's happenings.
It's not only the people with unusual gifts who will write their life in an interesting way. It has nothing to do really with the literary value of the work. What is important is that in the doing of it you begin to penetrate much deeper into the layers of consciousness and the unconscious. I registered everything. I registered intuitions, prophesies; I would be looking into the future or looking back and re-examining the past.
I don't want to make writers of all of you, but I do want you to become very aware of your orientation. First of all, of how much contact you have with yourself. If you remember, in the early diaries I spoke of my feeling that I was playing all the roles demanded of woman, which I had been programmed to play. But I knew also that there was a part of myself that stood apart from that and wanted some other kind of life, some other kind of authenticity. R. D. Laing describes this authenticity as a process of constant peeling off the false selves. You can do this in many ways, but you can begin by looking at it, for there is so much that we don't want to look at. I didn't want to see exactly where I was in Louveciennes before I made friends, before I entered the literary life, before I wrote my first book. I didn't want to see that I was nowhere, but wanting to see is terribly important to our direction. And to find this direction I used every possible means. Not only friendship and psychology and therapy, but also a tremendous amount of reading, exploration, listening to others — all these things contributed to my discovering who I really was. It wasn't as final or definite as it might sound now, because it doesn't happen in one day and it doesn't happen finally. It's a continuum, it's something that goes on all your life. But once I was at least on the track of what I could do, then the obstacles began to move away. It was not something that anybody could give me, it was something that I had to find inside myself.
So I'm speaking now of the diary not as a work of literature but as something necessary to living, as a way of orienting ourselves to our inner lives. It doesn't matter in what form you do it, whether it's meditation, whether it's writing or whether it's just a moment of thoughtfulness about the trend, the current, of your life. It's a moment of stopping life in order to become aware of it. And it's this kind of awareness which is threatened in our world today, with its acceleration and with its mechanization.
(Henri Matisse. "Blue Nude IV." 1952. Gouache on paper cut out. Musée Henri Matisse, Nice, France.)
One of the more remarkable stories I've heard recently comes from a Fresh Air interview with Los Angeles Times journalist Steve Lopez. It's about Lopez and the relationship that developed between him and a homeless musician named Nathaniel Ayers. Lopez was struck by the beauty of Ayers' playing, and was further amazed to discover Ayers was playing with only two strings on his violin. Next he found out that Ayers had been studying at Julliard, but had to drop out due to the onset of schizophrenia.
The Los Angeles Times has an article on the movie currently being finished that's based on this story (it's slotted for a November, Oscar season release). Jamie Foxx and Robert Downey seem well cast, but I'm a bit wary about Joe Wright (Atonement) as the director. We'll see. I'm pulling for it, and really hope it doesn't suck. There aren't many major studio films that depict the homeless, certainly not accurately, and the same goes for mental illness.
Regardless, give the interview a listen. I'd love to see the National Endowments for the Arts and the Humanities receive at least, oh, a few billion in funding. But Lopez and Ayers ' story explores a great deal about the importance of human connection and kindness, and the absolutely vital role that art (or more broadly, creativity) can play in sustaining us.
Since I've been riffing on Shakespeare recently, let me close with:
Ferdinand Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth? It sounds no more; and sure it waits upon Some god o' th' island. Sitting on a bank Weeping against the king my father's wreck, This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air; thence I have follow'd it — Or it hath drawn me rather — but 'tis gone. No, it begins again
