Meet the Board of Trustees
UNH Museum of Art - Haiku Project
Oct. 29 - Dec. 12, 2011
Statement from John-Michael Albert, Portsmouth Poet Laureate:
The current show at the UNH Museum of Art is a dual exhibition, paintings
upstairs and photographs
downstairs. They're unified by Japanese subject matter. Visitors to the museum
are invited to create haiku on post-its as a response to specific photos or
paintings and affix them beside the appropriate work of art. I've
agreed to respond to each of them from the Poet Laureate's perspective.
Exhibits:
Felice Beato: Photographer in 19th Century Japan
John Wissemann: Postmodern Constructs, Japanese-Style
In each haiku pair, the
first is written by a viewer at the museum and the second is the response from
John-Michael Albert
I saw a big bear / Wanted to give me a scare. / He did not scare me!
Terror is pointless. / Hiding in the dark, a waste. / Open to wonder!
Japan calls / Colors bright / Long Ago
Picture on the wall: / riot of colors, shapes, forms. / Outside, fall’s deep
song.
Even the brightest / Star must face its own demise. / Explosion-black hole.
Mutability: / to grow, everything must change. / Stars bud, bloom and blow.
The invasive plant / Kills off all my native loves / My heart cries for space
Who’s invading what? / On this blue marble, it’s all / the square dance of life.
The old, far away, / And curiously colored / Breathe in fresh again.
Reflect on the past / or envision the future. / Both are in the “now.”
Forms and color / Spatial Awareness / Co-Created Divinely.
Artists are makers. / They make from what they’re given. / Praise to the givers.
Snow in the autumn / Now it is winter, alas / Breathe deep the cold air.
How long must you live / before change is the rule and / not the exception?
We love calculus. / Anti-differentiate: / It means integrate.
Small stone in my shoe, / calculus to a new path. / “Thank you, little stone.”
Flourescent lake / The trout don’t have / Any gills.
The water shudders. / Trout leaps for hovering mayfly. / Memories don’t need
gills.
Clear basin of ice / With bright blood spilt over it— / had hoped it was wine
Life’s disappointments: / sour grapes and green apples. / Something new to
learn?
Looking through / The temple gate— / A gate!
Each experience / opens me to another: / matrioshka dolls!
Mango tree in bloom— / like eggs breaking out / From the black soil.
Northern Catalpa: / among the dense, heart-shaped leaves, / luscious long green
beans.
Eighteen inches rain / Wow—that’s a lot of fish now / Swimming in the street.
Walking home at night: / puddles shimmer with neon, / traffic lights and stars.
Together conspiring / in a whirl of fishtails / Sea of Japan
Jostling in the net, / chaos of ten thousand fish: / city streets at noon.
Your attention please. / An important announcement. / Do not ignore me.
So anonymous, / the voice on the loud speaker. / Does she speak to me?
Birds in the sky / They flutter / Then they die
Three short essays on / the transience of beauty: / A bloom. A bug. Me.
Angels in the trees— / They spark flutter disappear— / Gone till next evening
I’ve never seen one / but I’m certain that they’re there: / chorus of peepers.
Lights // Fingertips are burnt / But at least Beato glows / In the autumn night
“Out, out brief candle!” / Love signals me in the dark: / expectant breathing.
A haiku achoo / Ku ku kachoo, my nose I / Blew in Kalamazoo
Let’s laud our fixed forms / (sestinas prefer Venus, / villanelles paint
aquarelles, / clerihews wear worn out shoes) / but treasure our norms.
Beato’s Studio // Actors and geishas / Pantomime; gestures of Edo / Exotic echos
The world of gestures: / this means this and that means that. / Love? Means none
of them.
Samurai // Swords drawn grimacing / Whirling armored acrobats / Typhoon winds
howl.
Yes, he looks so fierce; / but under it all, a babe / blushing, embarrassed.
Geisha Wave // Contrasting colors fly / Blue crashing waves / Revelation eyes
A storm in her heart / mirrored in the sky, the clothes: / her joy in chaos.
Shaki // Eastern Worlds / Battle to make love / Direct or vague.
A battle with love / is a fight she wants to lose: / O happy captive.