“April is the cruelest month,” is the famous first line of T.S. Eliot’s 434-line poem The Wasteland. Poetry hasn’t been the same since it first appeared in print in 1922. Thirty years ago, in 1996, the Academy of American Poets used Eliot’s line as part of their justification for seeking and receiving official recognition for April as National Poetry Month. There are sure to be a surfeit of poetry month events.
These days, downtown Manhattan has more people walking around claiming to be poets than the cumulative number of individuals posterity has recognized as poets since the time of Chaucer. Thanks to a proliferation of MFA writing programs pumping out would-be bards at a rate nearly equal to factories that produce trophies for grade-school soccer teams, where everyone who plays gets a trophy, the world is inundated with exaggerated, and sometimes obscene, journal entries being passed off as free verse. Poetasters unite!
The whole idea of “months” – poetry or otherwise – might be called cultural ghettoization. March is Women’s History Month. February is Black History Month. In 1996 April was declared National Poetry month, and in 2021 Arab American History was added.
As a poet, I’m happy at least to celebrate the muse.
Please let me mention two American poets whose reputations have fallen into oblivion under the diktat of the free verse academics. Edna St. Vincent Millay was a brilliant purveyor of rhymes while Eliot and company were rising to prominence. Her poetry is a delight to read.
It’s worth noting here that while Eliot is considered the “father” of Modernist poetry, he sometimes employed both meter and verse in his work.
My second nomination for reconsideration is Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. At a time when poets were the rock stars of American letters, Longfellow was the top of the heap for quite a stretch. Mine may have been the last generation of Americans exposed to the idea of memorization of Longfellow’s verse. I recently finished re-reading his translation of Dante Alligheri’s Divine Comedy and, while it takes an effort to switch linguistic gears, I find it far superior to any of the “modernization” efforts promulgated by various publishers.
There is, of course, no “bohemian month.” That idea could not withstand the use of capital letters, for one thing. The Kingdom of Bohemia (1198 – 1918 AD) might be associated with such a calendar designation, and that would make no sense, to me anyway. Besides, what bohemian worth her or his weight in bock beer wants to be further ghettoized?
We don’t need to recognize each other in special months. We should recognize our common humanity all the time.
All that said, there are always interesting things happening in Manhattan. Here are a few:
April 1 – 9 is Passover for Jewish people. It commemorates Jews in the time of Moses being freed from slavery to the Egyptians. If you celebrate, have a blessed Pasach.
April 1 – 5 is Holy Week, culminating with the Easter Sunday celebration of the miracle of Jesus Christ’s Resurrection from the dead. Easter is the most holy day of the Christian calendar. It occurs the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox. If you celebrate, sing Hallelujah!
April 9 – 12 The 49th Annual Artexpo NY will again take place at Pier 36 in Manhattan. Though I’m not particularly fond of art fairs, this one is the granddaddy of them all. Artists come from around the planet to exhibit and, ideally, to find new patrons and reconnect with past collectors.
Now that the art market in general is in free fall worse than Bitcoin, as far as “investment opportunity” goes, perhaps people will start buying what they like, not what will supposedly increase in value. Artexpo NY’s Elliot Stares always makes sure the word gets out so that the artists and their works are exposed to as wide an audience as possible. I’m happy to give them a plug.
April 10 The biannual Poe Room events at 245 Sullivan Street are always worthwhile. I go to all of them, if I’m in town. Lois Rackoff is the curator and community coordinator of these presentations. She always manages to find something new and scintillating and all Poe. The Poe Room, as such, is otherwise known as Furman Hall, part of NYU.
The Poe Room events – which happen every Spring and Autumn – are part of the university’s mea culpa for ignoring the historical landmark significance of the house where the quintessential American poet and writer Edgar Allan Poe lived and wrote. The original Poe House was torn down and replaced by the red brick edifice now there.
Roger McCormack, who runs Poe Cottage – a national landmark in the Bronx where Poe also lived, with his wife and mother-in-law – will be this Spring’s presenter. McCormack is considered one of the nation’s foremost experts on Poe and his undeniable influence on American letters.
Poe Room events include a catered buffet and a wine and beer bar. It’s all free, thanks to Ms. Rackoff’s efforts. 6 – 8 pm. A reservation is essential. Phone 212-998-2400 or email [email protected].
Edgar Allan Poe, who in addition to penning classic American verse like The Raven and Annabel Lee, is credited with inventing the modern detective story (yes, predating Sherlock Holmes).
Detective fiction is one of my now-not-so-secret pleasures. Which brings me to the next item for April 10.
About a year ago I discovered the John Kite detective novels by Stuart Doughty. The same day Poe is celebrated this Spring, novel #11 in the e-book series will be released. John Kite is a British art detective, and the most delightful character to come along in quite some time. I’ve read all 10 of the books published to date. I particularly enjoy the occasional art history reference that Doughty includes as part of his storytelling. I often find myself enlightened by a new-to-me art history tidbit.
Dead Wrong is the new title. If you’re reading this column before April 10, you can pre-order the novel for $2.99 on Amazon, like I did. NOTE: It’s not at all necessary to read the series in order.
April 12 is Easter for Eastern Orthodox Christians. The disparity in dates is due to the difference between the Julian and the Gregorian calendars. In 2025, the celebrations coincided, as happens every few years. Peace be with you all.
April 15 6 – 8 pm the Mae West Room on the 3rd floor of the Jefferson Market Library will be the scene of the monthly meeting of the New York Browning Society. The winner of the annual First Signal Prize for Poetry, and those who were shortlisted, will read their works. The names of the winner and the shortlisted poets are unavailable at this writing. The First Signal Prize is sponsored by the NY Browning Society and Underground Books. James Browning Kepple is the president of the society, and Underground Books’ publisher.
Underground Books publishes a series of chapbooks which I find delightful. There is something thoroughly authentic about these slender volumes. I own several. James Browning Kepple can be found selling his wares in Union Square at a brightly festooned table on sunny farmers market days in Union Square.
Performance poet Jane LeCroy, a member of the board of directors of the NY Browning Society, is expected to be in attendance at the library. Word is Atanasio DiFelice, from the Village Star-Revue’s merry band of contributors, and the Browning Society’s vice-president, might also make an appearance.
The Mae West Room is named after the famous bombshell actress, who was jailed there on April 19, 1927 for her performance in her play Sex. Before it was a library, the building was a courthouse and the women’s jail.
Ongoing The poet William Blake once wrote, in Proverbs of Hell, “When thou seest an Eagle, thou seest a portion of Genius. Lift up thy head!” You may not see an eagle, but if you’re at the corner of Spring and Thompson Streets in Soho, please look at the top of the fence around Vesuvius Playground. You will see several portions of genius.
The Brazilian muralist Kobra and legendary Manhattan photographer Andrew Unangst collaborated on a series based on Unangst’s photographic portraits of Andy Warhol, one of which served as the artwork for this column last month. The series is sponsored by @SixSummitGallery and the NYC Parks Department.
I must exercise my bragging rights here: three years ago, I noticed that the billboard mural by Kobra, above the Chelsea Diner – titled The Mount Rushmore of Art – included a portrait of Andy Warhol that looked identical to the Andrew Unangst photo that graces the cover of The Andy Warhol Diaries. I called Unangst, a friend since the late 1970s, and confirmed. That led to me writing a piece for another, now-defunct Village publication, which was published on April 23, 2023. (April is beginning to feel more cohesive than cruel, as regards this column.)
Art maven Jeanine Tana Zeiss read the article and showed it to art impresario and dealer Leo Feroleto, who contacted Kobra and arranged for the collaboration with Unangst. Feroleto owns Six Summit Gallery and sponsors a variety of art, fashion, and entertainment events in Manhattan and Connecticut. The rest, as they say, is art history.
Ongoing until April 18 the Village Star-Revue’s merry band of contributors includes some true literary lights, not least among them being the estimable Anthony Haden-Guest. At the beginning of his career, Haden-Guest was both a columnist and a cartoonist for London’s Sunday Telegraph. Over the last few years, he has revived his career as a cartoonist, serving as an amiable gadfly to the art scene.
A batch of his cartoons are now on display at Freight & Volume, 39 Lispenard Street in Tribeca. The exhibit is titled Lucky Stiffs and the cartoons for the most part toy with the idea of Death. The show is up until April 18 and there will be closing night party. Inquiries 212-691-7700 or [email protected]
April 23 In addition to being the day on which both the birth and death of William Shakespeare are celebrated, Dana Costantino, another columnist for this paper, will host a panel discussion at Village Works. The subject is the 90s club scene and the photography of Ande Whyland. Should be interesting.
April 30 – May 3 Go ahead and accuse me of saving the best for last. The New York International Antiquarian Book Fair once again will be at the Park Avenue Armory, 643 Park Avenue. It’s been a must-visit event for serious bibliophiles for more than 60 years. My heart palpitates with anticipation. Last year, Patti Smith and her daughter Jesse Paris Smith kicked off the fair with a surprise concert. There’s no promise of that this year. There will be treasure beyond measure.
The armory holds many fond memories for me. In addition to this book fair, the late Colonel Edward Francis Gormley and I used to convene and dine in the officer’s mess at the building, while we swapped war stories. A bomber pilot and one of General William “Wild Bill” Donovan’s cadre during the founding of the OSS (pre-cursor to the CIA) at the end of the second world war, Eddie’s tales were much better than mine. Old soldiers never die. We just stop telling our stories.
As the beauty of Spring infuses the city, please send a prayer or kind thoughts to our troops. The young men and women in uniform don’t choose where they serve. But they go there when they are ordered. God bless America’s warriors.
