Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts

Saturday, August 5, 2023

Pine Hills Review LOW-LIFE MALIBU (a #poem)


Adventurous lit journal Pine Hills Review is published at The College of St Rose in Albany, New York. 

Pine Hills Review, "Low Life, Malibu" by Sarah Sarai. 

Dig it. And also, the perfect image.“Lunch Break” by Nicole Monroe. That's what life felt like when I was young and shiftless. 

Check out the PHR submission policies for art and poetry and prose. 

The end. (Sorry to be so brief.)

Thursday, February 13, 2020

poems that dance on a faultline... @Mistress_Tweet on #That Strapless Bra in Heaven ...Mary Meriam-reviews #poems


Thank you, Mary, although I'm really not erudite. I simply remember
books I read in college. Sarah 

 Reviewed in the United States on February 9, 2020


 Reviewed in the United States on February 9, 2020
Sarah Sarai throws her balls of erudition in the air and juggles them into poems that dance on a faultline between frolic and rage. What does “that strapless bra in heaven” represent? It’s a subversive, underwire, feminist image: breasts free of straps, comfortably supported, floating like angels. It’s also a lesbian image: a symbol of 
pink and lacy bliss. “Who wouldn’t want to spend millennia  / in a fine female breast?” Sarai asks queer questions and answers them in a dazzling milieu of her own creation. No one writes like Sarah Sarai.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

I'm Posting Two-Word Reviews on Goodreads

Art by: Hikaru Cho. See below for her website and a short bio.

Hello to Anyone Interested.

I stopped reviewing formally last year, for many reasons none of which I will delineate here. But I just realized I could keep a list of what I've read on Goodreads, a platform I'd abandoned. So now I am posting two-word (or a few more) reviews of books. Right now, of books I've read in the past few months.  And although in some cases I write "good poet," the fuller meaning would be "I enjoyed reading this collection written by a good poet, and I have indeed read the book and am not simply claiming to have read same." There are even fuller-er meanings but you'll have to buy me a glass of wine to hear those.

Love to Reads & Poets & All Writers,

Sarah Sarai
I'm on Goodreads under the pseudonym, Sarah Sarai, ha ha.

Hikaru Cho. Her website:  http://www.hikarucho.com/ and from that website a brief bio:
Born in 1993/3/29 Currently living in Tokyo Japan. taking "UNUSUAL" as a theme of her creation and creating Art work such as Body painting, stopmotion movie, illustration, clay sculpture, clothing design, Character design, and all sorts. Also do collaboration with several cloth brands. She is now a student in Musashino Art university.
1993年3月29日、東京都に生まれる。
2012年 武蔵野美術大学 視覚伝達デザイン学科に入学。
UNUSUAL(非日常)ARTをテーマに掲げ、体にリアルな目や物を描くボディペイントや衣服のデザイン、イラスト、立体、映像作品などを制作。衣服ブランドMelantrick Hemlight,タイツブランドtokoneとのコラボレーションや、ポスター、スマートフォン向けアプリのイラストやキャラクターグッズのデザインも行っている。

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Mark Strand (reminds me of Anwar Sadat). Part II on slam & performance poetry reviews


A few years ago I went to see Mark Strand read at the Cornelia Street Cafe. I would be happy to observe Mark Strand pouring over a train schedule or working through one of Pound's Cantos, but, in fact, Mark Strand was to read aloud his poetry.


Of which I am a great fan, or at least a fan, how great am I, after all, well, not very. I was not disappointed. As Octavio Paz has written, “Mark Strand has chosen the negative path, with loss as the first step towards fullness: it is also the opening to a transparent verbal perfection.”


Prepared though I was to be charmed by verse, I was unprepared to be charmed by Strand. I'd never seen him in person. When the saucy, yes saucy, cocktail waitress drew near him—he was onstage at this point—he gave her a look, the like of which I have not seen since that photo with Anwar Sadat and Richard M. Nixon.


Sometime in the early seventies, Nixon went to Egypt. Sadat, Egypt's president and a great man, offered entertainment worthy of visiting dignitaries. Belly dancing. The photograph, from Life or Time, revealed a remarkably uncomfortable, even for him, Nixon, while the look on Sadat's face was, hmmmmm, appreciative


In our touchy times, and I'm okay with touchy, I am called to emphasize that in no way am I saying the visionary Sadat, later tragically assassinated, was improper. He was, however, human, and clearly able to enjoy what was before him.


Strand's face when the waitress approached to see if he wanted a refill. It was a, Send her to my room look. Sometime this Spring I went to see Strand read, alongside other poets, at the Bowery Poetry Club in an evening designed to mix writers of his ilk, i.e., Poetry Society of America members, however they're elected, etc., with high school performance poets. It was a great evening.


What impressed me most that night was the quality of performance poetry. Not all the young poets had me reevaluating the form, just as not all poets at an open mic are a call to reevaluate poetry. (Just as not all prizewinners . . . ) But there were two young women, both about to head off to college, I believe, who were extremely gifted. Images, rhythms, timing. Performance.


I didn't remember those two until after I posted my blog last night, about performance poetry and its reviewers. I gotta say, reviewers, step up. It's a new world (or a constantly self-reinventing one). Thoughtful reviewers will be rewarded with images of Strand, Sadat or belly dancers.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Slam poetry and the reviewing thereof

Poet Victor Infante wrote this, elsewhere:


So here's what I think the world of poetry needs: A regular column or space in a high-end, respected and decently distributed mainstream literary journal dedicated strictly to the discussion and critique of slam and related non-establishment poetry: why and how it works, what does and does not deserve to survive from the canon, what deserves more attention. It's mission would be to explore what fromt he alternative has been sublimated into the maisntream, and to look past the standard arguments for what's new and important.

He mentioned this was part of an ongoing dialog between himself and friends, as it is an ongoing dialog in the poetry world (big world, lots of poetry, lots of poets).

Every form of art and art maker deserves attention. Music in its constant rebirth, from drumming to chant to weird Chinese opera (sorry) to Mozart to Ali Akbar Khan to Stevie Wonder (well named) to native American flute.... I note that in The Onion,  reviews are more of popular music, whereas The N. Y. Times or The New Yorker review pop, jazz, classical, "world" (a word meaning not made in America, as "regional theater" means not produced in New York City).

Here's my question. Is being reviewed the goal? What is the value of a review? To create buzz, get attention?

Here's my other question which I hope serves as example. It's about music, not poetry. Can a music reviewer write as much about a Pete Seeger folk song as she could write about Schubert lieder (or weird Chinese opera). Even with the Beach Boys' sophisticated harmonies or Laura Nyro's rhythms, are either as rich for mining by a critic as a song by Billy Strayhorn or Satie?

By which I mean: Is it plausible (and this is a question) that some forms of poetry and other of the arts have more reviewable type components. NO WAY am I saying one form of music (and by extrapolation, poetry) is "higher" on the food chain than the other. I was smothered in classical in my childhood (though, oddly, rock, jazz, soul, funk were not disallowed). Sometime in my late thirties I had a huge realization: Classical was not top of the food chain.

That was a big moment for me, especially as I hadn't been able to listen to much classical (short of chant, chamber music, art songs and some relatively modern French composers) for years. You'd have thought my parents waterboarded myself and my sisters while singing (Mom was a soprano) praises of the old boys.

(I realize you might not have thought waterboarded back then, but you could have considered a drip water torture or electric shock or the like.)

A review or critical analysis can open something up. Last Friday I mentioned on this here blog that I was going to hear local poet Michael Graves give a lecture on James Wright's  Shall We Gather at the River. It was a completely worthwhile evening and much in the book opened up (that phrase again).

A jump rather than a conclusion: I would like performance poetry to be opened, more. Go ahead, critics. Teach.