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Showing posts with label William Howard Cohen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Howard Cohen. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 27, 2024

Search For Relatives of William Howard Cohen


 Dr. William Howard Cohen, Ph. D. 

Because of two previous blog posts (first post) I had published about Dr. William Howard Cohen, a former professor at Alice Lloyd College in Pippa Passes, Kentucky, I was recently contacted by a cousin of his, Dr. Paul Newman, Ph.D. chair emeritus of the Linguistics Department at Indiana University.  Dr. Newman would very much like to make contact with a niece and nephew of Dr. Cohen who had previously commented on the two earlier blog posts (second post) I had published about him and his influence on me.  If these relatives of Dr. Newman see this post and contact me at rchicks@mrtc.com and I will give them Dr. Newman's contact information.  Thanks!

Roger D. Hicks

Sunday, May 30, 2021

"Sacramental Spaces: The Salvaged World of Raymond Barnhart" by William Howard Cohen

The photo above is an official Alice Lloyd College yearbook photo of William Howard Cohen.  

William Howard Cohen was a college professor, poet, and mentor to many young, aspiring writers wherever he lived and worked, Kentucky, Florida, Illinois.  I have written about Bill Cohen and his poetry more than once on this blog and was very pleasantly surprised to see others who had been mentored by Bill Cohen respond very favorably to his writing and his encouragement and criticism of their writing.  William Howard Cohen was an internationally recognized expert on Haiku and served as the American Cultural Delegate in the area of poetry at the Mexico City Olympics in 1968. Cohen was also an outspoken and highly effective environmental advocate who fought bravely and well against strip mining in Appalachia.  If you read the comments section at the end of this blog post about William Howard Cohen, you will see that this man was not just a writer who spent his time sitting in a cloister somewhere writing.  He also spent a great deal of that time teaching, training, mentoring and encouraging young writers whom he met as a result of his books, teaching, poetry readings, and attendance at other events. 


 The photo above is William Howard Cohen and his wife, Delores Cohen, at Alice Lloyd College about 1968 or so.  

William Howard Cohen also made a conscious effort to constantly improve his knowledge of art in all its form and frequently attended exhibitions of painting and sculpture wherever he might be traveling.  The book we are discussing here, "Sacramental Spaces: The Salvaged World of Raymond Barnhart", contains twenty-one poems which Cohen produced and published after attending an exhibition somewhere of the work of Barnhart.  It is a very difficult piece of Cohen's work to locate on used book websites and was apparently issued as a small, self-published book, perhaps printed by Pippa Valley Printing in Knott County Kentucky  where Cohen was teaching at Alice Lloyd College at the time.  Amazingly, the one copy of the book which I have been able to locate is autographed by Raymond Barnhart himself and I found it at a used books and collectible store in California which sells items through one of the large used book clearinghouses online.  According to the blog "Litterata": 

 "In his youth, Raymond Barnhart worked as a riverboat deck-hand, carpenter, fruitpacker, and window designer before becoming an artist. A painter during the first half of his life, Barnhart received his MFA from Ohio State University, and he was an instructor at the University of Kentucky for 32 years before leaving and moving to California in 1958."  (Litterata Blog, available May 30, 2021, at 7:15am) 

That blog post, if you read it, will show you that the blogger was highly impressed by the assemblage sculptures which Barnhart produced as were many others including William Howard Cohen who most likely  saw and exhibition of Barhhart's work at the University of Kentucky where he he taught for several years before leaving for California where he died in 1996 at the age of 93.  My recent acquisition of William Howard Cohen's little book of poetry and the creation of this blog post are both quite timely since there is an ongoing exhibition of collage and assemblage which contains at least some pieces of the work of Raymond Barnhart at the University of Kentucky Art Museum at 405 Rose Street on the UK campus. I will attend that exhibition since it runs until July 10, 2021.  The museum website does state that they are operating under Covid 19 restrictions and do require hourly reservations for visitors.  But, admission is free.  I will be attending that exhibition and so should you, IF YOU ARE FULLY VACCINATED!  


The phot above is William Howard Cohen, far right with beard, Kenneth Baldridge, and four unknown Alice Lloyd College students. 

Now that we know who Raymond Barnhart is, let's actually address the primary reason for this blog post, the poetry of William Howard Cohen which is contained in his ode to Raymond Barnhart.  This collection contains 21 poems all of which were inspired by the art of Raymond Barnhart.  Each of the poems appears to have been motivated by a single work by Barnhart although it is possible one or two could have been inspired by an overall exhibition of the artists work.  Barnhart created his assemblage pieces by using found objects and, if we refer once again to the "Litterata" blog piece about him we learn that: 

"While teaching a design and wood sculpture class in Mill Valley, and from his contacts with the Bauhaus novement, Barnhart found his true medium: assemblage. His assemblage work is classical in the sense of composition, aesthetics, and design. From the Conceptualists, he incorporated the use of found objects. And he made a just marriage of it.  But whereas Conceptualists diverged, exploring man's alienation in society, Barnhart's work is full of hope and compassion: it reflects the linear sentiments of art, beauty, balance, harmony; it transmorgifies limitation as set in stone by various art movements: it remains unswerving in its devotion to the aesthetics of art.  Wind-blasted, sun-bleached, and burnt materials juxtaposed against man-made rusted and tarnished discards become the poetry of deserted places. Fellow Sonoma County artist John Kessel said, "Raymond Barnhart assembles diverse, objects to create visual poems that evoke either man's place in nature—or man in contemplation before nature. Some pieces tell a story, and all are poems which convey an impact. This is an art of redemption and reconciliation." Litterata Blog, Available May 30, 2021, at 7:15am)

Both William Barnhart and William Howard Cohen believed that nothing should be wasted.  In the 1960's when I knew Bill Cohen, he was already involved in the very early effort to save the earth, the natural environment, and wasted nothing of value.  Barnhart created his art from the things others had thrown away.  It was no surprise that William Howard Cohen would have been inspired by the works of Barnhart and would have written a little book of poetry to commemorate that work.  These 21 poems are all short and, as a person who has read and studied much, if not most, of the work of William Howard Cohen, this little book contains some of the best of his short poems.  As an internationally respected expert on Haiku, William Howard Cohen practiced economy of language.  He wasted few words in his poetry and this poetry is a fine example of that economy of language.  One of my favorite poems is called 

      "Monument" 

The burnt pylons of time

Rise Heavenward-

The skeletal heart

Rides the air midway

      Suspended

Between the finite

     and the infinite. (William Howard Cohen, "Sacramental Spaces...")

That poem paints a myriad of pictures in our minds as we read it.  We see images left by old fires rising into the air. are they burnt timbers or are they really old highway pylons used in a Barnhart assemblage?  This brief poem, only seven lines, twenty-one words, a minimal amount of utterances on the keys of typewriter are what economy of language is all about.  There are only four more words in that poem than in a traditional Haiku and, while the poem is not Haiku, it is reminiscent of some of the best of Haiku.  It is William Howard Cohen at his best.   

Another of my favorite poems from the book is "World Of Raymond Barnhart" which contains only sixteen words, one less than in a traditional Haiku: 

"World Of Raymond Barnhart"

From the broken shards of time

Rainbows of eternity; 

From the charred shells of earth

Universes.  (William Howard Cohen, "Sacramental Spaces...")

It is always a pleasure to read the work of William Howard Cohen and this little book is an especial pleasure since it has also led me to learn about the work of a man artist whom my old friend and mentor, Bill Cohen, admired.  I hope you can locate a copy of "Sacramental Spaces: The Salvaged World Of Raymond Barnhart".  You will enjoy it.  If you cannot locate a copy of this apparently small edition collection, then consider finding and reading the two books by William Howard Cohen which are more easily located, "The Hill Way Home" and "A House In The Country: Poems From Southern Illinois".  They are both well worth reading.  

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Addendum: August 27, 2024

I have recently been contacted by first cousin of William Howard Cohen, also a former university professor in Indiana who had read my blog posts about Dr. Cohen and seen that a niece and nephew of Doctor Cohen had left comments on these posts.  This cousin, Dr. Paul Newman, P.H.D, is the retired chair of the linguistics department at Indiana University and would like to be able to locate these mutual relatives of his and Dr. Cohen's.  They can contact me at rchicks@mrtc.com and I will provide them with Dr. Newman's contact information.  Thanks!   

Tuesday, November 27, 2018

The Mixed Blessings Of Having Writers As Friends

As I have said on several occasions in this blog, I have known and been mentored by several of the most important writers in Appalachia.  I have had published writers as friends, mentors, professors, and colleagues since I was in my early teens.  I have written about several of those relationships and people on this blog over the last seven years.  I have benefited greatly, in a variety of ways, by having known these people.  I do not say that all of them have been glowing examples of the human race.  One or two I have known have been many of the things most people work diligently to try to never become. A few others have been nearly everything decent, honorable, and caring humans strive to become.  At least one of these relationships extends all the way back to the early 1970's.  Others have only been my friends for a few years.  Yet at least one of those brief friendships is one of my closest today.  For a time I was a member of a group of Appalachian writers, both professors and students, which is thought of by many in the fields of Appalachian Studies and Appalachian Literature as having been one of the more significant groups of writers in Appalachia.  

However, knowing numerous writers  is, in general, a bit like knowing all of the dogs in your neighborhood or the racehorses at your favorite track.  Some of them will bite without provocation.  Some will be your best friend so long as you have food to eat, a warm house, or something to drink or smoke.  Some of them will be winners.  Some will always finish well behind the pack.  Some will only be consistent consumers of favors and influence while others will be consistent producers of both great literature and fond memories.  Over the last few weeks I have had occasion to be reminded of this for several reasons.  I recently acquired a few books from the estate of a lesser known poet and newspaper writer in my area and most of those books had been autographed by their authors and given to the writer  of whose estate I had managed to buy part.  During her lifetime, she had known many of the most influential writers in the state of Kentucky.  During my lifetime, I have done the same with a similar group of writers from both Kentucky and West Virginia.  I also have a similar collection of books written, autographed, and presented to me by writers I have known.  I even bought a wood stove once from one of the most famous Kentucky writers without anything other than home heating having ever been discussed between us.  

Also during this recent period, I acquired four or five books written by two or three of my friends.  One of those friends I have known since about 1995.  The other I met just this past summer.  One is an excellent writer.  The other is not.  I have been in fairly regular contact with both over the time I have known the later.  The recent friend has provided me with warmth, friendship, and respect.  The other, whom I have known much longer has been in contact on superficial levels and been less than forthcoming in many ways.  The new friend, during the course of writing their third published book, sought my input and even included a piece of a great writer's production in that book to make a point.  It was not the point I would have made with the same excerpt but I do know that my friend had never before seen that writer's work until they knew me and chose to use the work mentioned when I made them aware of it. They also listed me in the "Acknowledgements" page of the next book for having critiqued the previous book and for "providing a bottomless well of research material."  The second writer, whom I have known considerably longer also published a couple of books recently which would have been better left in a manila envelope under a bed for some auctioneer, yet unborn, to include in a box lot at an estate sale.  At some point, I offered this second mistakenly ambitious writer some constructive criticism pending their willingness to hear it.  I never even got a response which in some ways did not surprise me.  I refer you once again to my earlier metaphor about dogs and racehorses.  The new friend has produced a well written, respectable book which will not likely ever be famous due primarily to that person's total aversion to seeking or achieving advantages by virtue of doing anything that is not modest and humble. But  their work is likely to be kept in some bookshelves for the foreseeable future.  The other produced a book which would, as I said earlier, have been better placed elsewhere other than in the public market.  At about the same time this series of exchanges was transpiring, a third writer friend who works in several areas has been well reviewed by random strangers over the last several decades asked me to consider providing input on an upcoming book which leads me to believe that my input is not totally worthless.  

To put all this in a neat little package, or at least as neat a package as possible, I will say that despite having been bitten and ravaged by fleas on a few occasions in addition to having been kicked, pawed, and dragged by several horses, I still pet strange dogs, admire and sometimes even bet on new horses, waste my time picking up strays, and have even paid to neuter two stray kittens lately.  I will probably not stop expressing my opinions to writers whom I know and some I have still not met.