Blogcritics Author: Lisa Alvarado

Theater Interview and Review (Chicago): Dennis Watkins, Author of The Magnificents

Lisa Alvarado — Mon, 15 Oct 2007 22:44:49 EDT

The Magnificents, Dennis Watkins and The House Theater -- real feeling, real participation, and a real good time.
Let's get the important message out of the way: Go see The Magnificents. A production of Chicago's House Theatre, it's part Chagall painting, part commedia dell' arte, and part meditation on the nature of family, love and loss. It weaves magic, storytelling and audience inclusion into a don't-miss jewel of an experience.The plot...

Alexander Marshall: Renaissance Man, Sui Generis

Lisa Alvarado — Mon, 17 Sep 2007 16:12:32 EDT

Alexander Marshall is a multi-talented man blending creative success with charm, modesty, and a strong sense of family legacy.
sui ge·ner·is Pronunciation: "sü-E-'je-, -'ge- ner- is Etymology: Latin -- of its own kind: constituting a class alone. Simply put, an illustration of sui generis could easily be a photo of Alexander "Sandy" Marshall, son of legendary magician, Jay Marshall. In this article, I'll be sharing information...

Review: Poetic Medicine - The Healing Art of Poem-Making

Lisa Alvarado — Wed, 12 Sep 2007 17:51:05 EDT

John Fox reminds us that words hold healing, words open hearts and change lives.
Beyond poetry’s elegant use of language, it has the power to heal. Deeply.John Fox explores this capacity in Poetic Medicine. Through the use of poetry, writers/readers can gain access to the restorative power of creativity. This a different tack than the general premise of art therapy, in which there an outside construct, psychology,...

Interview: Carlos Mock and Tales of Papi Chulo

Lisa Alvarado — Tue, 4 Sep 2007 20:11:04 EDT

Carlos Mock, renaissance man with a story that spans more than one identity. Papi Chulo reveals, celebrates and illuminates.
Carlos Mock is a fixture in LGBT, Latino, and fiction circles here in Chicago, and now, nationally. He is a physician, novelist, blogger and social commentator. Take a look at his bio, some of the rave reviews, and our conversation that follows.Born in San Juan, Puerto Rico to a middle class family. Grew up in the San Francisco/Santa Mar�a suburb...

Announcement: Short-content feeds

Phillip Winn — Sun, 26 Aug 2007 12:00:00 EDT

Sunday, August 26, 2007, marks the switch of all Blogcritics.org article feeds from full-content to short-content. This is the result of several converging factors, and is unfortunately a permanent decision (as permanent as any decision can be on the web, that is). We are aware of all of the reasons that this is a Bad Idea, and we are aware that some of you will be quite upset about having to click on something to read the free content, and we're sorry. Unfortunately, despite great effort, full-content feeds are not currently economically viable. Two other factors are involved: full-content feeds have resulted in an unprecedented level of content theft, with BC content appearing on many websites, usually spam sites, without attribution or permission. This duplicate content causes a cascading set of problems, not the least of which is that search engines generally aren't favorable to duplicate content, and don't always guess correctly. Finally, our RSS advertising partner is strongly in favor of short-content feeds. We hope that you'll continue to subscribe to BC via RSS, and when an article grabs your eye, it's only a click away, still free on the BC website. Thank you for your understanding.

Book Review: Santeria Garments and Altars - Speaking Without a Voice (Folk Art & Artists Series)

Lisa Alvarado — Fri, 24 Aug 2007 15:12:55 EDT

Santeria Garments and Altars is a literate, accessible, beautifully photographed book by a man who is a member/initiate in a house of Oshun. Its subtitle is, ‘Speaking Without A Voice.’ How appropriate! The emphasis is on the striking photographs of the variety of altars to the different deities, members of a variety of houses preparing for, or engaged in aspects of worship.By way of background information -- A ‘house’ is a group of devotees of a particular god or goddess under the leadership of a ‘babalawo’, or priest/priestess. Oshun is another one of the Seven African Powers who represents the archetypical female principle and the power of eros. Interestingly enough, abstinence or asexuality, and a virginal principle of female sexuality has no icon, nor any particular social importance.Another interesting feature is that the author is a male practitioner, much in the tradition that the gods choose individuals to serve them regardless of gender. My own Catholic upbringing was full of gender separation, nuns as Brides of Christ, servants of the male hierarchy, etc. While there are some tasks separated by sex, it does not appear to be as rigid, as attenuated as in a Christian/Catholic context.One of the major tenets of this religious practice is the construction of altars, which every believer is required to do. There’s a synthesis between aesthetic and spiritual significance. It is considered one’s duty to create, as service to the deity to whom one has pledged oneself. A further illustration of the nexus between creativity and belief is the Santeria/Yoruba belief in ‘ache’, the universal life force present in all things. Each devotee is assumed to have within them the power to create a beautiful altar, one infused with ‘ache.’ In my previous performance pieces, there are ‘anchor ‘ points - static elements that have life infused into them.(In REM/Memory, there is a central, supine figure, hidden in a mass of blankets, who comes alive as the piece starts, and the nightmare begins. In Resurgam, a chaos of white fabric is stripped away to reveal a captive figure who finds release as the piece begins.) I see a connection between a finished altar containing ‘ache,’ and a performance’s ‘anchor’pieces being the place where it all comes alive, more specifically where it reflects the Spirit moving in it.There are several points of connection for me here. When the author created an altar to Oshun, it was clear that it could also be seen as a ‘site-specific installation.’ Size of the space, mood of the space, prominent observation points are all taken into consideration. These are the same consideration I make with each piece, the same considerations any installation artist might make.In the design of an altar dedicated to Oshun, ‘found’ elements are brought into the piece that symbolize her attributes. Since Oshun represents eros, obvious choices illustrate sensuality. Honey, honeycombs, silks and laces are standard items in such an altar. I constantly bring found items from daily life into my performances, hoping to create common imagery for myself and the audience as it unfolds as a shared experience. In Resurgam, during the 'communion’ section, I offer a papaya sliced in half to the audience, sharing its womb shape with them as the symbol of The Living Body -- juicy, ripe, the source of all things, ever replenishing.Lastly, I want to comment on the Santeria idea of ‘coolness.’ Essentially, it is the principle of balance, harmony, a reflection of the connectedness of all things. An altar, no matter how ornate, is not considered ‘cool’ if it does not have these attributes.Even though my approach is spare, I try to layer things enough to suggest complicated ideas and experiences. It's work with a a consistent point of view, root motifs that I communicate to the audience, an arc of interconnectedness between myself, how I tell the story, the audience, and a unifying force that exists in the moment of performance, a force that is one of the closest thing I know to Spirit. Aside from how this book resonates for me, it is a literate, beautifully photographed, concise work. Whether you're a devotee of visual art, installation, the Afro-Caribbean diaspora, or a would-be Santera, this book, slender as it is speaks volumes. Take the time to dive in, dive deep, and enjoy. About the author:Dr. Flores-Peña was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Studies: University of Puerto Rico, B.A, Catholic University of Puerto Rico, MA. Ed. UCLA M.A and Ph.D. Publications and lectures on Afro-Caribbean Ritual Art and Afro-Cuban religious cultures and Latino Folklore. Lecturer at WAC, Center for Afro-American Studies, and Adjunct Professor at Otis College of Art and Design.

Lisa Alvarado is a poet, novelist, and performance artist. She is the author of The Housekeeper's Diary, Reclamo, and Sister Chicas. In 2007, Sister Chicas was the 2nd place winner of the Mariposa/International Latino Book Award for Best 1st Novel in English. She also shares her views and literary criticism on La Bloga.

A Slice of Spa Heaven in Chicago

Lisa Alvarado — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 17:34:47 EDT

Run, do not walk, to this undiscovered gem of a spa/nail salon tucked away in Chicago's Lincoln Square neighborhood. Look carefully or you'll miss the modest storefront, and I assure you, you won't want to miss it. Enter Havana Nights Nails and Spa and you'll leave busy, bustling Lawrence Avenue behind.The long, narrow space is intimate and inviting, with mango-colored walls, salsa music, and dark wood colonial furniture conjuring images of a private Cuban home. The owner, Sandra Plasencia Casanova, welcomes you like a long lost hermana, offering you a seat, a beverage, and touching base with each customer as to what will soothe your soul as well as your tootsies.Choose from a rainbow of polish selections that practically cover a third of one of the walls. And the spa pedicure chairs are in fact thrones that offer massaging while you get pampered. The staff is warm, friendly, and will go that extra length to provide in-depth customer care, making sure that you get exactly what you desire. By the way, DO NOT miss the sybaritic heaven of the mojito pedicure. Inspired the classic Cuban cocktail, your feet are slathered with a mix of mint leaves, lime juice, sugar, white rum, and club soda, that soothes and tones, to say nothing of lifting your spirits and energizing the senses. Oh, and did I mention as part of your mood adjustment you're served a freshly made mojito to set the mood?And I would be remiss if I didn't tell you to make sure you book a manicure and treat your skin while you're there. As a gift to myself for my last birthday, I had the works -- facial and mani-pedi. The absolute thoroughness of the skin treatments were astounding -- meticulous deep pore cleansing and exfoliation with follow-up moisturizing left me feeling and looking like a dewy diva!And to make this even more of a must-do, the price point for these slices of heaven are incredibly reasonable, ranging from $14 for a manicure, $50 for the mojito pedicure, and $50 for an almost 90-minute deep-cleansing facial, and the champagne facial for $60. So, for an affordable spa experience in Chicago, whether you're a born and raised Chicagoan or visiting the Windy City for business or pleasure, it's Havana Nights Nails and Spa.Havana Nights2555 W. Lawrence Avenue Chicago, IL 60625 773 907-0654

Book Review - English Is Broken Here: Notes on Cultural Fusion in the Americas by Coco Fusco

Lisa Alvarado — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 18:10:30 EDT

In the series of essays that make up English Is Broken Here, Coco Fusco concentrates on examining the work of Latino/a performance artists born in the U.S., and the themes of “otherness” and culture clash. Performers such as Andres Serrano, Laura Aguilar, and Fusco’s longtime collaborator, Guillermo Gomez-Pena, are held up to the light for close consideration.In the essay targeting her collaboration with Gomez-Pena, Fusco details a performance done in public venues (museums, municipal buildings) where she and Gomez-Pena created a living exhibit, posing as “specimens” of a fictional indigenous tribe. They displayed themselves in a cage, with dress and talismans gleaned from Pan-Latino/a and popular culture. Her commentary on the experience, on being the observed ”other,” and what she saw as the fascination of the predominately Anglo audience as observer, underscored the themes of objectification and the blurring of public and private.I had mixed feeling in reading about this performance. On the one hand, I think it was a bold and important artistic move to skewer the dominant culture's idea of 'preservation' and 'curation ,' to challenge it as no more than a kind of pandering to that culture's fascination with they perceive as the 'exotic' indigenous. Never mind that in many cases these exhibits are only possible as a direct result of colonialism, genocidal practices, and grave robbing. How different is Fusco's and Gomez-Pena's living exhibit behind bars and the guided tours held on the the rez, or in barrios, in farm worker camps?I wonder to what extent the audience fully grasped that under the rubric of "Latino," there exists hundreds of complex societies, with a heterogeneity of language, practices, rituals. I'm concerned that the work may only engender the knee-jerk, superficial shudder of guilt in primarily white, middle-class audience.In the post-performance discussions of Housekeeper's Diary, the audience comments range from some middle-class people's expression of discomfort, or their own lack of knowledge as to how to even treat their own maids in a more real, humane way. But there are also comments about what is the vitality and vibrancy of working people -- comments about the inherent dignity they sense, despite an external objectification. This, to me is the kind of dialogue and engagement I find most satisfying as a performer.While those points of divergence are significant, I felt I had read something that will challenge me to keep thinking about the political context of performance. One last reservation with this book was Fusco’s tendency to make referential comments to different artists, without always placing them in context. This can make for a limited appreciation of the the work as a whole, as well as perpetuate an unfortunate tendency of performance artists conversing amongst themselves. (Particularly since Fusco plumbs the legacy of imperialism, colonialism in her work, it strikes me as odd that she gears her writing to the art intelligentsia. ) It is a challenge, however, worth the effort of cross-referencing and research for the reader.

Book Review: Aracelis Girmay's Teeth

Lisa Alvarado — Tue, 7 Aug 2007 22:57:08 EDT

Aracelis Girmay writes poetry, fiction, & essays. Teeth, her collection of poems, was published by Curbstone Press in June 2007. Her poetry has appeared in Ploughshares, Bellevue Literary Review, Indiana Review, Callaloo, & MiPoesias, among other journals. Her collage-based picture book, changing, changing, was published by George Braziller in 2005. Girmay is a Cave Canem Fellow & former Watson Fellow. She teaches writing workshops in New York & California.(That's the official bio, gente, but I think you'll love hearing Aracelis on Aracelis in a recent email I received.)***** "I've loved books & the idea of reading since I was little. The story goes "you used to memorize the books & sit & read from memory before you knew how to really read." I used to sleep with my books. I LOVED to read, and then, I used to tell my younger brother stories. My grandmother still has folders of stories I'd write at her house. When I was 13, though, I read The Bluest Eye, I remember thinking: Oh, god, we're allowed to write like that? The way we think? The way people talk? The ways my people talk? Oh, really?It opened up this door of permission -- I didn't know, really, that writing could represent me, not until then. wow, something in the way that I perceived writing & reading changed in me then.I started sharing my work with other people when I was in college -- Writing has always been my lifeline -- my way of figuring & making sense & asking questions & maintaining hope, a hope. But it wasn't until college that I realized that I HAD to cultivate this work -- that I HAVE to write. It is one of my absolute necessaries. Circulation, breath, communication, memory, wildness, & order.My mom is Puerto Rican & African American (Georgian) -- from Chicago, & my dad's Eritrean, born in Gondar, Ethiopia. Both of them are amazing story-tellers -- who tell the stories in very different ways. But, oh! The stories -- they are essential -- I always had the sense (even when I was very small) that these stories would be the only landscapes in which I'd meet, say, my Great Aunt Tiny, my uncle Samuel, my grandparents, my countries. I knew, too, that the stories were not only important for me & my brother to hear (my sisters weren't born yet), but for my parents to say out loud.I remember witnessing the powers a story can have on the person telling -- the way connections that weren't made before can be made in the telling. I write because it is my way of speaking, my way of figuring, my way of connecting, moving deeper into my life. I write, too, in the words of Carolyn Forche: against forgetting. I write the things that others wish I would forget. The things I cannot bear forgetting. The things I cannot survive forgetting. I write to get something back: world, that is, to still myself, somehow, & consider the things the world is constantly showing: see, see this! hear, hear this! say this! remember, remember! I write to undo time, to go back & fiddle, to sit with what I've been given, to learn something, really, to visit the ghosts & let them know I see them.Influences -- poets, fictionists, painters, musicians:Helene Cixous, Aime Cesaire, Audre Lorde, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Toni Morrison, Frida Kahlo, Mart�n Espada, Gwendolyn Brooks, Nazim Hikmet, Anna Akhmatova, Ovid, Etta James, Derek Walcott, Naomi Shihab Nye, Cy Twombly, Lucille Clifton, Caetano Veloso, Pharoah Sanders, Taha Muhammad Ali, James Tate, my students, a few of Hayden Carruth's poems knock me out--hugely, church stories, my family's stories, my parents, my family's dead; and every accordion: every accordion is my influence."And if you haven't already fallen in love with her and her writing, take a look at what others have to say about the Divine Ms. Girmay."In Teeth, the poems of Aracelis Girmay ring out with a burning truth as she transports the reader into the world of despair, discrimination, sorrows, triumphs, joy and the courage it takes to flourish as a woman of color. Her keen observations are put forth with an appetite for life without fear or self-consciousness as she weaves her words into a range of potent poems." -- Nicholasa Mohr"The poetry of Aracelis Girmay is so strong, so brave, so lyrical, so fiery, so joyful, that the usual superlatives fail. I think of Sandra Cisneros and her words of praise for another writer, Denise Ch�vez: 'I love this book so much, it sounds like I'm lying.' Exactly." -- Mart�n Espada"In the foreword, [Espada] calls the poems, 'hard, cutting, brilliant, beautiful.' As I read Teeth, I have to say that it did not take long for me to agree with [his] opinion. But more than that, I have to say that Girmay has put together one of the best debuts by any poet in recent memory...This collection is sure to continue to create a significant amount of well-deserved buzz. No doubt it will garner more praise and will be mentioned among nominees for literary awards. Indeed, Aracelis Girmay is the real deal."-- Jose B. Gonzalez, Co-Editor of Latino Boom"In her powerful debut collection of poems, Teeth, Aracelis Girmay reaches out to her various cultural lineages (Eritrean, Puerto Rican and African American) and weaves them into a distinct voice, political and beautiful as 'bullets of ivory'...Teeth delivers on its promise to be a fierce, proud book of poems that provokes thought and invites its readers to be a poet's unique and expectant universe, where celebration and protest, lament and solace, sound and silence, intertwine and thrive."-- El Paso Times Aracelis Girmay makes me want to be a better writer. TEETH is a stunning piece of work de sudor y socorro. She has the gift -- able to craft indelible work fashioned from the bones of ancestors and living, singing blood. Girmay has been blessed to be mentored by Mart�n Espada but make no mistake, her voice is wholly and fully her own, as is her subject matter. Her mastery of poetic form and an almost ruthless, heartbreaking beauty is shot through this unforgettable volume. And like Espada, she seamlessly fuses the personal and political, revealing where the wounds lie. But Girmay always, always, returns to the indomitable, unquenchable spirit that saves even the most disadvantaged, the most abused from being mere victims. She is also brave enough, wise enough to show her heart in love and at play.But the social power of this book is never diluted. At its essence, TEETH reminds me of a passage in Maxine Hong Kingston's The Woman Warrior. A young woman, a peasant girl, has completed her training to become a soldier, the means by which her family and her village will seek justice against the overlord. With a whisper-thin blade, her parents inscribe the history of abuse which all of them have suffered. The girl's back becomes her eternal oath, a record laid into the flesh, but it is never reduced to a scar.ARROZ POETICAI got news yesterday from a friend of mine that all people against the war should send a bag of rice to George Bush, & on the bag we should write, "If your enemies are hungry, feed them."But to be perfectly clear, my enemies are not hungry. They are not standing in lines for food, or stretching rations, or waiting at the airports to claim the pieces of the bodies of their dead. My enemies ride jets to parties. They are not tied up in pens in Guantanamo Bay. They are not young children throwing rocks. My enemies eat meats & vegetables at tables in white houses where candles blaze, cast shadows of crosses, & flowers. They wear ball gowns & suits & rings to talk of war in neat & folded languages that will not stain their formal dinner clothes or tousle their hair. They use words like "casualties" to speak of murder. They are not stripped down to skin & made to stand barefoot in the cold or hot. They do not lose their children to this war. They do not lose their houses & their streets. They do not come home to find their lamps broken. They do not ever come home to find their families murdered or disappeared or guns put at their faces. Their children are not made to walk a field of mines, exploding.This is no wedding. This is no feast. I will not send George Bush rice, worked for rice from my own kitchen where it sits in a glass jar & I am transfixed by the thousands of beautiful pieces like a watcher at some homemade & dry aquarium of grains, while the radio calls out the local names of 2,000 US soldiers counted dead since March. &, we all know it, there will always be more than what's been counted. They will not say the names of an Iraqi family trying to pass a checkpoint in an old white van. A teenager caught out on some road after curfew. The radio will go on, shouting the names &, I promise you, they will not call your name, Hassna Ali Sabah, age 30, killed by a missile in Al-Bassra, or you, Ibrahim Al-Yussuf, or the sons of Sa'id Shahish on a farm outside of Baghdad, or Ibrahim, age 12, as if your blood were any less red, as if the skins that melted were any less skin, & the bones that broke were any less bone, as if your eradication were any less absolute, any less eradication from this earth where you were not a president or a military soldier. & you will not ever walk home again, or smell your mother's hair again, or shake the date palm tree or smell the sea or hear the people singing at your wedding or become old or dream or breathe, or even pray or whistle, & your tongue will be all gone or useless & it will not ever say again or ask a question, you, who were birthed once, & given milk, & given names that mean: she is born at night, happy, favorite daughter, morning, heart, father of a multitude.Your name, I will have noticed on a list collected by an Iraqi census of the dead, because your name is the name of my own brother, because your name is the Tigrinya word for "tomorrow," because all my life I have wanted a farm, because my students are 12, because I remember when my sisters were 12. & I will not have ever seen your eyes, & you will not have ever seen my eyes or the eyes of the ones who dropped the missiles, or the eyes of the ones who ordered the missiles, & the missiles have no eyes. You had no chance, the way they fell on avenues & farms & clocks & schoolchildren. There was no place for you & so you burned. A bag of rice will not bring you back. A poem cannot bring you. & although it is my promise here to try to open every one of my windows, I cannot imagine the intimacy with which a life leaves its body, even then, in detonation, when the skull is burst, & the body's country of indivisible organs flames into the everything. & even in that quick departure as the life rushes on, headlong or backwards, there must, must be some singing as the hand waves "be well" to its other hand, goodbye; & the ear belongs to the field now. & we cannot separate the roof from the heart from the trees that were there, standing. & so it is, when I say "night," it is your name I am calling, when I say "field," your thousand, thousand names, your million names. IN THE CANE FIELDSYou are a steel-blade woman, I am a steel-blade man. When we dance like this, head-high in the cane, my heart beats red with want.It's a dangerous taste gonna swing me from some hanging tree.I am a steel-blade woman. You are a steel-blade man.If the Boss Men follow down the dirt red road, accuse us of blackness & of love, let us live again, sweet, come back & haunt these fields. FOR ESTEFANI LORA, THIRD GRADE, WHO MADE ME A CARD for Estefani Lora, PS 132, Washington Heights* Elephant on an orange line, underneath a yellow circle meaning sun. 6 green, vertical lines, with color all from the top meaning flowers.* The first time I peel back the 5 squares of Scotch tape, unfold the crooked-crease fold of art class paper, I am in my living room.It is June. Inside of the card, there is one long word, & then Estefani's name:LoisfoeribariEstefani Lora* Loisfoeribari?* Loisfoeribari: The scientific, Latinate way of saying hibiscus.* Loisforeribari: A direction, as in: Are you going North? South? East? West? Loisfoeribari?* I try, over & over, to read the word out loud. Loisfoeribari. LoISFOeribari. LoiSFOEribari. LoisFOERibARI.* What is this word?I imagine using it in sentences like,"Man, I have to go back to the house, I forgot my Loisfoeribari."or"There's nothing better than rain, hot rain, open windows with music, & a tall glass of Loisfoeribari."or"How are we getting to Pittsburgh? Should we drive or take the Loisfoeribari?"* I have lived 4 minutes with this word not knowing what it means.* It is the end of the year. I consider writing my student, Estefani Lora, a letter that goes:To The BRILLIANT Estefani Lora!Hola, querida, I hope that you are well. I've just opened the card that you made me, and it is beautiful. I really love the way you filled the sky with birds. I believe that you are chula, chulita, and super fly! Yes, the card is beautiful. I only have one question for you. What does the word 'Loisfoeribari' mean?* I try the word again. Loisfoeribari. Loisfoeribari. Loisfoeribari.* I try the word in Spanish. Loisfoeribari Lo-ees-fo-eh-dee-bah-dee Lo-ees-fo-eh-dee-bah-dee& then, slowly,Lo is fo e ri bari Lo is fo eribari* love is for everybody love is for every every body love love love everybody love everybody love love is love everybody everybody is love love love for love for everybody for love is everybody love is forevery love is forevery body love love love for body love body body is love love is body every body is love is every love for every love is love for love everybody love love love love for everybody loveisforeverybody Last words on Teeth --- Sigh. Sigh Again. Glorious. Go. Buy. The. Book.

Book Review: Johanny Vazquez Paz - Streetwise Poems

Lisa Alvarado — Tue, 7 Aug 2007 11:58:54 EDT

Johanny Vázquez Paz was born and raised in San Juan, Puerto Rico. She holds a Master of Arts in Hispanic Studies from the University of Illinois at Chicago and a Bachelor of Arts in Sociology from Indiana State University. Her book Streetwise Poems/Poemas Callejeros was recently published by Mayapple Press (Michigan, 2007). She co-edited the anthology Between the Heart and the Land / Entre el corazón y la tierra: Latina Poets in the Midwest (MARCH/Abrazo Press, 2001) and was included in the compilation Poetas sin tregua (Spain, 2006) of Puerto Rican poets from the 80's generation. Some of her poems appeared in the anthology Más allá de las fronteras (Ediciones Nuevo Espacio, New Jersey, 2004), and she was published in the collection Carpetas de Luz after winning the Voces Selectas 2000 poetry contest of Luz Bilingual Publishing. Johanny has been published in the literary magazines VOCES Journal (Univ. of California), El Centro Journal of the Center for Puerto Rican Studies (Hunter College, N.Y.), Beyond Borders (De Paul Univ.) and Yagrumal (Puerto Rico), among others. She currently teaches Spanish at Harold Washington College in Chicago, IL. Johanny Vázquez Paz nació y se crió en San Juan, Puerto Rico. Posee una maestría en Estudios Hispánicos de la Universidad de Illinois en Chicago y un bachillerato en Sociología de la Universidad del Estado de Indiana. Su libro Streetwise Poems/Poemas Callejeros fue recientemente publicado por Mayapple Press (Michigan, 2007). Co-editó la antología Between the Heart and the Land / Entre el corazón y la tierra: Latina Poets in the Midwest (MARCH/Abrazo Press, 2001), y fue incluida en el libro Poetas sin tregua-Compilación de poetas puertorriqueñas de la generación del 80 (España, 2006).Además, algunos de sus poemas aparecen en la antología Más allá de las fronteras (Ediciones Nuevo Espacio, New Jersey, 2004), y fue publicada en la colección Carpetas de Luz después de ganar el certamen Voces Selectas 2000 de Luz Bilingual Publishing. Johanny ha sido publicada en las revistas: VOCES Journal (Univ. of California), El Centro Journal of the Center for Puerto Rican Studies (Hunter College, N.Y.), Beyond Borders (De Paul Univ.) y Yagrumal (Puerto Rico), entre otras. Actualmente es profesora de español en Harold Washington College en Chicago, IL. Aside from the obvious descriptors in her bio, Johanny Vázquez Paz is quite simply a force of nature. She's warm like earth, clear and bracing as running water, and bright as the canopy of morning sky. She's also a Chicago literary fixture, and it's been our very good luck indeed that she's been the host of Palabra Pura since its inception. It's Johanny's voice you hear each month at California Clipper welcoming you, teasing you, coaxing you to relax and enjoy. With her inimitable presence, the bar becomes nuestra joint, an opportunity to savor. And the experience is made richer by her sharing her own poetry, setting out the first course in that feast of words that is a Palabra Pura reading.There is so much to appreciate. She is also a poet of what I like to consider working class sensibilities -- direct, honest, but full of deep feeling, true feeling. In the 2007, the release of Streetwise Poems/Poemas Callejeros, Johanny shows us how deeply the streets run in her veins, the public and private ways her heart holds the love of family and their stories. No matter how much her work is anchored in an urban base, she is tethered always to la isla, to Puerto Rico and its sorrow and strength, always writing from a deep place of female dignity. Take a moment and read for yourself.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Daughter of the CityI feel the streets in my veins avenues highways alleyways boulevards roads without stop signs or lights or signals live within me circling the bewildering labyrinths of my being, noises echo loudly at every corner, each step banging like a hand on a drum, horns demanding that others move out of the way, shots crying farewell to their reasons for hate, screams hiding by the anger of a barking dog. Daughter of the city citizen of hell resident of purgatory. I am a skyscraper inhabited by urgency, a map of nameless streets, only the suicidal wind dares to speed past the danger signs of my curves. Hours merge without boundaries into dawn; my anxieties open for business twenty-four hours a day without ever finding peace and quiet inside the insistent beating of my sleepwalking heart. Letter to My Mother from Chicago Don’t worry about me, madrecita, everything seems fine in the northlands and I perfect myself before your eyes. No problem disturbs me more than ten hours a day my health is excellent without doctors or healthy diets and there is no one to interrupt my eternal solitude. But, don’t be worried, mami, it’s not as bad as you think. There are millions of jobs here that don’t pay well there is a lot of money in other people’s accounts new buildings go up every week with people trapped behind each door. If I sound sad maybe it’s because I miss my homeland, my family and everything, because the weather chills my bones more each year, because of the things-to-buy list that grows like a well fed child, because of the problems that visit me daily without an invitation. I’m fine, I survive day by day taking care of things myself, don’t feel sad, viejita, life is perfect here. Reasons of Worth because I sin in secrecy and silence keeping before the world a record of impeccable morality because I have withstood deserved insults in the dark corner of rancor and hate because I could have taken advantage of many men but I chose solitude over lies and convenience because I did not prostitute my ideals under the assault of those whose only ideal is profit because I was born woman and I bleed and I am impregnated and I give birth and I raise and nurture and clean and organize and I stop bleeding for these and many other reasons of worth I deserve fame right now be it fifteen minutes of praise, be it an ovation of applause and roses, be it my image glowing on television, or my touched-up photo in some important magazine, be it an honorable mention in some contest or a trophy with my name engraved, whatever it may be, but let it be grand... because I deserve fame! I deserve glory!For more of Johanny's writing, please enjoy the following: PUBLICATIONS- Book Poemas Callejeros / Streetwise Poems published by Mayapple Press, Michigan, 2007. Poem published in the anthology The City Visible: Chicago Poetry for the New Century, Cracked Slab Books, Chicago, 2007.Poem: Our Revolution. Poems published in Poetas sin tregua compilation of Puerto Rican poets published in Spain, Ráfagas, 2006.Poems: Sentada en la arena mirando el mar, Anónimo Lo que queda, Un infierno mío, Fuerza de voluntad, En comunión, Jardinera. Poems published in Más allá de las fronteras anthology published in New Jersey, USA, Ediciones Nuevo Espacio, 2004.Poems: Sentada en la arena mirando el mar, Sin debida sepultura. Article "Café con demasiaaaaada leche: I am a Black Woman Trapped in a White Woman's Body" and poem published in Que Ondee Sola, Northeastern Illinois University-Chicago, IL, March 2003.Poem: Anhelo africano. Song lyrics written included in the compact disc Compromiso by Luis Jahn, Chicago, IL, Del Sur Music Publishing, 2003.Poem: Cada familia. Co-edited and published poems in Between the Heart and the Land/Entre el corazón y la tierra; Latina Poets in the Midwest anthology published in Chicago, IL, 2001, MARCH/Abrazo Press.Poems: Liviana / Light Heart (both versions in all indicated), Por un hilo / By a Thread, A la vida / To Life, Morning After. Poems published in VOCES: A Journal of Chicana/Latina Studies, Volume Three, Number One and Two, University of California, Davis, Spring 2001.Poems: Con fe / With Faith (both versions in all indicated), Dedicado a Soledad / Dedicated to Solitude, Veinticuatro Horas / Twenty-four Hours, Liviana / Light Heart, Razones de Peso / Reasons of Worth. Poems published in Centro Journal of the Center for Puerto Rican Studies, in the article "New Rican Voices", Volume XII, Number 1, Hunter College, New York, Fall 2000.Poems: African Yearning, Carta a mi madre. Chapbook El filo de la esquina published in the collection Voces Selectas 2000, Carpeta de Poesía Luz Número 4, Luz Bilingual Publishing, Sherman Oaks, CA, 2000.Poems: Por un hilo, Con fe, Palabras cortas, Juerga de dos, mentira de muchos. Poems published in ¡Sin linderos ni arrabales, hacia el Siglo XXI!, Segunda Parte. Anthology published in Madrid, Spain, 1999, Calíope Press.Poems: Liviana, ¡Qué grande estás! Poems published in El Otro Newspaper, Chicago, IL, December 1999.Poems: Si alguna vez, Razones de peso. Poem and short story published in ¡Sin linderos ni arrabales, hacia el Siglo XXI! anthology published in Madrid, Spain, 1999, Calíope Press.Poem and Short Story: En las mañanas, Con fe. Poems published in Yagrumal literary magazine, 1999 issue, Peñuelas, Puerto Rico.Poems: Callejón, Cada familia, ¡Hay que...!, Con fe, Bailando bolero sola, Resolución de fin de año. Poems published in ¡Y Dios la hizo mujer! anthology published in Madrid, Spain, 1998, Calíope Press.Poem: Razones de peso. Poems and article published in La Raza Newspaper, Chicago, IL, July 1999.Poems: Bailando bolero sola, Callejón. Interview published in Que Ondee Sola, Northeastern Illinois University-Chicago, IL, March 1999. Poem published in Que Ondee Sola, Northeastern Illinois University-Chicago, IL, April 1999.Poem: Our Revolution. Poems published in Beyond Borders: Más all de las fronteras literary magazine, De Paul University, 1997-98 issue.Poem: Cada familia. Poems published in Diminuendo, volume ii, issue 1, Loyola University literary magazine, October 1998. Poem: Alleyway. Poems published in Karacola literary magazine, 1998, Santiago, Chile.Poem: Razones de peso Poems published in Abrapalabra University of Illinois literary magazine, Chicago, IL, 1996Poem: Anuncio. Poems published in Fe de erratas, August and November 1993 issues. Poems: Mujer, Débil.

Book Review: I, Carmelita Tropicana: Performance Between Cultures by Alina Tryano

Lisa Alvarado — Thu, 2 Aug 2007 18:51:22 EDT

Hello people, you know me, I know you.I am Carmelita Tropicana.I say Loisaida is the place to be. It is multicultural, multinational, multigenerational, mucho multi.And like myself , you've got to be multilingual.I am very good with the tongue.Alina Troyano, Cuban-born writer and performance artist, is the recipient of a 1999 Obie award for Sustained Excellence of Performance, and named by el Diario as "una de las mujeres mas destacadas de 1998." She has presented her work nationally and internationally in both English and Spanish.As a writer she has distinguished herself since 1985, when she was selected to participate in Intars musical Theatre Labs under the direction of Graciela Daniele and George Ferrencz. She has received fellowships from the New York Foundation for the Arts for Performance Art, as well as for screenwriting and playwriting. She has received a CINTAS Foundation fellowship for her literary work, as well as a 2001 writing fellowship from The Mark Taper Forum, a 2002 writing fellowship from the Cuban Arts Foundation, and in 2003 the Plumed Warrior writing award from LLEGO, a National Latin Gay Lesbian Bisexual Transgender Organization.In 2000, Beacon Press published I, Carmelita Tropicana: Performing Between Cultures, a Lambda Award nominee for theatre. In the opening quote in this article, Alina is speaking as her Latin-bombshell persona, Carmelita. Troyano has sampled the 'exotic other' archetype of Carmen Miranda, and put a queer, radical aesthetic spin to her. Hardly the palatable fantasy of the easy-conquered, not-too-bright Carmen.This is a book that made me laugh out loud. It is part “diary”, part monologue, part cultural commentary by one Carmelita Tropicana, a.k.a. Alina Troyano. Troyano is a Cuban lesbian performance artist whose work skewers racial, cultural, and sexual stereotypes. Carmelita is my new patron saint.In the preface there is a reference to Troyano's use of 'innuendo, bilingual puns, double entendre, burlesque, parody, political farce, biographical revisionism, and an irreverent appropriation and collaging of popular culture' She draws text from popular movies, past stereotypical icons, and popular music. While the style is irreverent, her themes are hardly light. In placing expropriated material in another context, it becomes reinvented, with layers of new meaning and ultimately a critique of the original manifestation itself.In a piece entitled Your kunst ist your waffen, Carmelita/Alina pokes fun at performance art and sexual stereotyping. In a monologue to the audience, she explains how a “fairy” godmother told her it was her destiny to sing and dance in the tradition of Carmen Miranda. The vaguely sexual title of the piece conjures up images of lesbian sex. In reality, it translates to ”Your art is your weapon.”She goes on, in a fictitious diary, to satirize Castro, boat people, Catholicism, traditional ideas of Latina femininity and family life. In her “diary”, Carmelita/Alina reveals that as as prison entertainer, she saw a group of nuns behind bars singing a rancher song entitled: Prisoneros de Amor/Prisoners of Love. I admired and enjoyed Troyano’s brashness, her satiric wit, and her willingness to take the starch out of some of our (Latin) sacred icons. There is also an inherent political act in lifting, deconstructing and revisioning elements of popular culture in this way.To better illustrate her work and style, I want to close with an excerpt from her performance at New York's New Museum of Contemporary Art.Recipe for Carmelita's Bad Girls Show at the New Museum of Contemporary Art.INGREDIENTS1/3 Pingalito (Carmelita in male drag) recites"Ode to the Cuban Man" from Milk of Amnesia1/3 Carmelita delivers Performance Art Manifesto (which varies based on the audience, how Carmelita feels at any given moment, and the venue.)1/3 The Art Quiz ShowHOW TO MAKE THE ART QUIZ SHOWSprinkle clues for the audience to guess the artworkor artist recreated in live tableaux.Add pinch of art commentary to taste and blend with 1 generous dollop of modern dancer Jennifer Monson (collaborator) whisked rapidly for Duchamp's Nude Descending a Staircase. Set aside.IN A SEPARATE PAN MIX1/2 cup Jennifer as Cupid with piercing arrow and 1/2 cup Carmelita moaning, hanging on museum fire escape.Simmer to Wagner's Tristan und Isolde and stir until both harden into Bernini's sculpture The Agony of St. Theresa.For skewering performance art's often ponderous images and general pomposity, and for giving queer aesthetics a decidedly Latina sabor....Que Viva Camelita!