A few years ago while writing my former National African-American Cultural Arts column for AXS Entertainment, certain bloggers in Hong Kong started referring me to as a writer of conscience and commitment. They saw in my work strong parallels between the mission French authors––like Simone De Beauvoir, Jean Paul Sartre, and Albert Camus-- who emerged during and after World War II, had assigned themselves, and that which I had adopted in a relatively more peaceful time.
The defining elements in each case were uncontrollable currents of history. They convinced us in our separate eras and geographical regions, and in our determination to secure democracy and advocate struggles against tyranny, that apathy was not an acceptable option. That sentiment is a principle driver behind what many now refer to as the resistance movement in the United States.
The Hong Kong bloggers seemed to also like the fact that I was committed not only to the pursuit of social justice but to creating poems with a more expansive #creative or #spiritual concerns. Some were moved enough to translate some of my haiku verse, like Angel of Earth Days and Seasons, into Hans Chinese.
Then along came 2017 and the current debate over what to do or what not to do about Confederate Monuments in America’s public spaces. Amazingly enough, I knew nothing about the one in Forsyth Park in my hometown of Savannah, Georgia (USA), while growing up in the city. An informed awareness of what it represents came only after becoming a veteran of a kind myself.
Invitation to a Different Perspective
I first began giving serious thought to the implications of its gargantuan presence in such a public space after author George Dawes Green made reference to it in the inscription he included when autographing for me a copy of his novel, The Caveman’s Valentine. Later, when writing about reinterpretations of urban slavery in Savannah for Connect Savannah, the weekly entertainment news magazine, I delved more deeply into the subject. And then of course went to a completely different level while working on the Civil War Savannah Book Series project.
Consequently: the outlook and proposals expressed in my article, “Re-envisioning the Confederate Monument as a Portrait of Diversity”, is very different from what many are voicing about the subject. But I invite you to check it out along with the comments that follow by CLICKING RIGHT HERE.
Aberjhani's most-recently completed work is a book nonfiction on the cultural arts, race relations, and history in Savannah, Georgia (USA). He is currently at work on a play about how history and social movements such as the effort to rename the Eugene Talmadge Memorial Bridge intersect with family dynamics.
NOTE: If you missed part 1 of this special tribute to the jazz singer and songwriter Al Jarreau please check it out here. Part 2 begins now.
For the past few years, I have been particularly grateful for the technological advances that allowed me to catch online streaming of Al Jarreau's International Jazz Day performances from around the world: Washington D.C, Istanbul, Paris, etc. When news of his death came on February 12, 2017, the only thing I could really focus on was the astonishingly beautiful gift that was his presence in this world.
The first song by him I was able to access to commemorate his triumphant artistry was an MP3 file of the 1993 live version of "Summertime" from George Gershwin's and DuBose Heyward’s classic folk opera Porgy and Bess. The second was a 3-song set with the equally-amazing singer Randy Crawford on their 1982 Casino Lights CD recorded live in Montreux, Switzerland. Once again, like all those years before in Berkeley, I found myself compelled to sing along. This time, employing a style utilized for the Songs of the Angelic Gaze series published in The River of Winged Dreams, my participation took the form of a haiku jazz poem:
Jarreau Jazz-riff Earth-tunes for
Contemporary award-winning author of classically-styled works in history, poetry, creative nonfiction, speculative fiction, and journalism.