Interview with Zarina Zabrisky and Simon Rogghe
Up the Staircase Quarterly: Zarina and Simon, thank you so much for joining me for this interview! I would like to discuss your new collaborative book, Green Lions, which was released last year from Numina Press, but first, tell us a little about your history as a creative collaborative pair. How long have you been collaborating? Why do you feel collaborative work is important for artists? What challenges arise while working together on a project?
Zarina Zabrisky: It is hard for me to think in words like "collaboration", "work", "challenges," and "project" talking about poetry. I might be a creature of chaos with a very small vocabulary. We have been writing together for what feels like a very long time. Sometimes it just happens, it is the way of talking to each other. Like in opera. I don't know why is it is important but it feels liberating and true.
Simon Rogghe: For me, the collaboration organically flowed out of our conversations and mutual sharing of poems and stories. At first, we would correspond around the poems and stories. After a while, we began to correspond in poems. It felt like a natural transition. At some point, when talking about poetry and art, the language inevitably becomes poetry.
UTSQ: What conversations and ideas inspired the creation of Green Lions? Why did you decide to work as a collaborative pairing for this particular book?
ZZ: Green Lions came out of our dreams as one flow of poetry and without any sign it might be a book. But real artistic collaboration has its own mysterious ways and we were heard and got extremely lucky to work our songs into a structured and originally designed book. Our publisher Numina Press and our designer Kathleen Phelps sculpted our ululations into a coherent volume (we hope.)
SR: It wasn’t as much a decision as it was a string of events. Zarina and I had been writing poems to each other for a while, and we decided to perform these poems together. Zarina had already been reading to music, adding costumes and choreography to her performances. Performing together brought a different kind of energy and a poly-symphonic quality to the performance. When our publisher saw our performance, she was inspired to transpose the synergy we create onstage onto the page. So she proposed to create a book with our poems.
UTSQ: In Green Lions, I had a particular interest in your duets. These poems were a cohesive conversation between two voices, with one voice presented in plain text and the “opposing” voice in italics. The change in font is the only signal given to the reader to note that the voice has changed. We do not know which voice is Rogghe’s and which is Zabrisky’s. How were these poems written? What was your process? What was the significance of leaving the voices without label/name?
ZZ: Well, this is where the reader is coming into the picture, and actively. It is up to our reader to decide if he or she knows whose voice is talking to them at the moment. In fact, there is a clue in the book--and I am not going to give it away. I also feel that it might be yet another way to connect to the surrealists... Magritte's window--you know? You have to decide whether you are looking at the landscape out of the window or the easel with the canvas with the view of the window and then you realize that you are looking at the canvas with the view of the window...
SR: Since our writing also is performative, we like to involve our reader. We don't want the reader as a spectator, watching from the sidelines, eyes following the stanzas from left to right and right to left as if it were a tennis ball. As poets, we like to think of ourselves as crossing a threshold into a kind of desert landscape where the optical (or grammatical, or gravitational) laws don't apply. We construct a new universe by linking up different objects and distances, following the invisible energy currents that connect them. Our ideal is to bring this act of writing -- a creative act -- as close to the process of reading as possible -- to transmit the aliveness and the spark that were at the origin of the poem. In order to do that, we decided to apply less labeling and placed more emphasis on the visual situation of the stanzas on the page.
Zarina Zabrisky: It is hard for me to think in words like "collaboration", "work", "challenges," and "project" talking about poetry. I might be a creature of chaos with a very small vocabulary. We have been writing together for what feels like a very long time. Sometimes it just happens, it is the way of talking to each other. Like in opera. I don't know why is it is important but it feels liberating and true.
Simon Rogghe: For me, the collaboration organically flowed out of our conversations and mutual sharing of poems and stories. At first, we would correspond around the poems and stories. After a while, we began to correspond in poems. It felt like a natural transition. At some point, when talking about poetry and art, the language inevitably becomes poetry.
UTSQ: What conversations and ideas inspired the creation of Green Lions? Why did you decide to work as a collaborative pairing for this particular book?
ZZ: Green Lions came out of our dreams as one flow of poetry and without any sign it might be a book. But real artistic collaboration has its own mysterious ways and we were heard and got extremely lucky to work our songs into a structured and originally designed book. Our publisher Numina Press and our designer Kathleen Phelps sculpted our ululations into a coherent volume (we hope.)
SR: It wasn’t as much a decision as it was a string of events. Zarina and I had been writing poems to each other for a while, and we decided to perform these poems together. Zarina had already been reading to music, adding costumes and choreography to her performances. Performing together brought a different kind of energy and a poly-symphonic quality to the performance. When our publisher saw our performance, she was inspired to transpose the synergy we create onstage onto the page. So she proposed to create a book with our poems.
UTSQ: In Green Lions, I had a particular interest in your duets. These poems were a cohesive conversation between two voices, with one voice presented in plain text and the “opposing” voice in italics. The change in font is the only signal given to the reader to note that the voice has changed. We do not know which voice is Rogghe’s and which is Zabrisky’s. How were these poems written? What was your process? What was the significance of leaving the voices without label/name?
ZZ: Well, this is where the reader is coming into the picture, and actively. It is up to our reader to decide if he or she knows whose voice is talking to them at the moment. In fact, there is a clue in the book--and I am not going to give it away. I also feel that it might be yet another way to connect to the surrealists... Magritte's window--you know? You have to decide whether you are looking at the landscape out of the window or the easel with the canvas with the view of the window and then you realize that you are looking at the canvas with the view of the window...
SR: Since our writing also is performative, we like to involve our reader. We don't want the reader as a spectator, watching from the sidelines, eyes following the stanzas from left to right and right to left as if it were a tennis ball. As poets, we like to think of ourselves as crossing a threshold into a kind of desert landscape where the optical (or grammatical, or gravitational) laws don't apply. We construct a new universe by linking up different objects and distances, following the invisible energy currents that connect them. Our ideal is to bring this act of writing -- a creative act -- as close to the process of reading as possible -- to transmit the aliveness and the spark that were at the origin of the poem. In order to do that, we decided to apply less labeling and placed more emphasis on the visual situation of the stanzas on the page.
UTSQ: You have been giving collaborative readings for some time now. What do you feel are the key distinctions between the written word and performance poetry? Compare and contrast Green Lions as a book versus Green Lions as a spoken word performance.
ZZ: Just as our poems became songs and dances and those turned into the book, the book then (see Magritte's painting) decided to turn into songs and dances--or, a theater show. We launched Green Lions with a blend of theater, music, dance, artwork and choreography on the stage of the charismatic Great Star Theater in Chinatown, San Francisco. At this point the mystic ways of collaboration was really working--we got a theater cast of more than a dozen actors, musicians and dancers who brought the poems to life on stage.
Learn more about the Green Lions Féerie perfomance (which includes video) HERE.
SR: As I mentioned earlier, the concept that sparked this book was the transposition of the performance onto the page. The book should reflect the synergy of two voices and two individuals whose words and presence interlace. For this purpose, we worked with a designer (Kathleen Phelps) who did an amazing job in creating the page layout, different typefaces and all of the other typographical elements in the book. The drawings add movement, the visual quality that you normally don’t get when you hold a book – but then so does the page layout. Our performances were born out of the act of writing to and with one another, and the book was born out of the way we translated this original act into our performances, so the link between the book and the performance is very strong for us.
UTSQ: Many poems and artwork depicted in Green Lions discuss or symbolize the “blending” of two people, an intimate relationship. In “All My Cranes,” Zabrisky writes:
or, are those your beautiful slender fingers
and your lips that I feel on the insides of my elbows,
on the nape of my neck, on my shoulders and ankles,
everywhere?
it is hard to tell
all is mixed
I am carrying you with me
Rogghe’s “My Bird For You Is A Swan” completes the diptych with, “a naked eye / A naked soul: we are the same.” I would like for you to elaborate on the concepts behind these lines, and pardon my Tina Turner quote, but what does love got to do with it?
ZZ: Tina Turner had great legs. And voice. I never really listened to the lyrics... I think it is all in the poems. I am shy in person. And private. (But you can read the book.) Thank you.
SR: The surrealists saw Love as central to their work, both in the Freudian sense of libido, but also elevated as the alchemical flame that is the catalyst for the Great Work (i.e. obtaining the philosopher’s stone). In alchemy, the Green Lion stands for the dissolution of boundaries, the submersion of the ego into the unconscious and its encounter with psychic forces greater than itself. In writing together, we also open ourselves not only to each other, but to a collective pool of words, sounds and images that blend alchemically in our distinct, yet interlaced, voices. We are only half joking when we say that “a third mind was created” when we started writing poems to each other. Chemistry and alchemy have a lot in common.
ZZ: Just as our poems became songs and dances and those turned into the book, the book then (see Magritte's painting) decided to turn into songs and dances--or, a theater show. We launched Green Lions with a blend of theater, music, dance, artwork and choreography on the stage of the charismatic Great Star Theater in Chinatown, San Francisco. At this point the mystic ways of collaboration was really working--we got a theater cast of more than a dozen actors, musicians and dancers who brought the poems to life on stage.
Learn more about the Green Lions Féerie perfomance (which includes video) HERE.
SR: As I mentioned earlier, the concept that sparked this book was the transposition of the performance onto the page. The book should reflect the synergy of two voices and two individuals whose words and presence interlace. For this purpose, we worked with a designer (Kathleen Phelps) who did an amazing job in creating the page layout, different typefaces and all of the other typographical elements in the book. The drawings add movement, the visual quality that you normally don’t get when you hold a book – but then so does the page layout. Our performances were born out of the act of writing to and with one another, and the book was born out of the way we translated this original act into our performances, so the link between the book and the performance is very strong for us.
UTSQ: Many poems and artwork depicted in Green Lions discuss or symbolize the “blending” of two people, an intimate relationship. In “All My Cranes,” Zabrisky writes:
or, are those your beautiful slender fingers
and your lips that I feel on the insides of my elbows,
on the nape of my neck, on my shoulders and ankles,
everywhere?
it is hard to tell
all is mixed
I am carrying you with me
Rogghe’s “My Bird For You Is A Swan” completes the diptych with, “a naked eye / A naked soul: we are the same.” I would like for you to elaborate on the concepts behind these lines, and pardon my Tina Turner quote, but what does love got to do with it?
ZZ: Tina Turner had great legs. And voice. I never really listened to the lyrics... I think it is all in the poems. I am shy in person. And private. (But you can read the book.) Thank you.
SR: The surrealists saw Love as central to their work, both in the Freudian sense of libido, but also elevated as the alchemical flame that is the catalyst for the Great Work (i.e. obtaining the philosopher’s stone). In alchemy, the Green Lion stands for the dissolution of boundaries, the submersion of the ego into the unconscious and its encounter with psychic forces greater than itself. In writing together, we also open ourselves not only to each other, but to a collective pool of words, sounds and images that blend alchemically in our distinct, yet interlaced, voices. We are only half joking when we say that “a third mind was created” when we started writing poems to each other. Chemistry and alchemy have a lot in common.
UTSQ: Next, I would like to hear about Zarina’s artwork in Green Lions. Zarina, were these your first illustrations? Tell us a little about your drawing process. Your drawings seem to mirror the poems found in the book. What came first, the drawings or the poems?
Simon, what do you take away from Zarina’s artwork in Green Lions? What do Zarina’s images convey to you personally, and what do you hope they will convey to the reader?
ZZ: We both are very visual. Simon paints with oil--mostly, his dreams, but his dreams are also his poems, and so are his paintings. Surrealist to the bone. As for me, I used to study drawing when I wanted to become an artist. Your hand always remembers--even if you head doesn't. Some layers just came out as we have stirred things so deeply. But for me writing comes more natural and from deeper places. Drawings are illustrations; they are secondary.
SR: To me, the drawings and the poems are very much interlaced, to the point where I cannot think the poem apart from the drawing and vice versa. I believe there was an inner necessity that called for these drawings, as if the words (Echo) called out for the image (Narcissus). In a sense, the relationship between the poems and the drawings feels like a fated love story – but quite happily so. I hope these drawings “break the mind,” ease the grip of rational thought on the reader and act as doors or channels that might make the reader more receptive to the flow of words (and sounds) passing through the eye and taking shape in the soul, perhaps even in the body. Then, I believe, we will really have accomplished our Work.
UTSQ: What were you reading, listening to, and/or watching while creating Green Lions? Who are your overall influences? Who do you love to read?
ZZ: I do remember watching Diva, a black-and-white French movie. We later used the piano music for the Underwater Duet. Anais Nin's The New Novel. Overall influence--I am omnivorous and lack system. Can I send the photo of my bookshelf please? Seriously, in poetry Pushkin, Blake, Jim Morrison. Prose: Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Gogol, Bulgakov, Lewis Carrol, Fitzgerald, Salinger, Kundera. Honestly, I can go on for a long time, and it depends on a given day.
SR: If I recall correctly, I was complaining about having to read an imposed reading list for my Master’s exam in French Literature while we were writing the poems in Green Lions. Perhaps the sense of freedom I now experience in rereading these poems are linked with the desire I had to break free from mental and structural constraints. I think Zarina sparked a different voice in me. It feels more akin to the surrealist Paul Eluard than to my denser Baudelairean side.
UTSQ: And finally, Zarina and Simon, if you could have a meal with anyone, dead or alive, real or imaginary, whom would it be, what would you talk about, and what on earth would the two of you eat?
ZZ: I would have a big dinner with my grandmothers, grandfathers, mother, and father. I miss them all and I have a lot of questions for them. Can I have all of them, please? We would have pirozhki with cabbage, and apples, and drink lindenberry juice and talk, talk, talk.
SR: I would have lobster, and oysters, and champagne. It’s very difficult to pick a person, dead or alive, as I don’t really feel I am missing out on anything due to the interesting and creative people I am lucky to be surrounded by. But I think I might like to have dinner with Carl Jung. (Herr Jung, if you can hear me, my address is…)
Green Lions is available on Amazon.com
Simon, what do you take away from Zarina’s artwork in Green Lions? What do Zarina’s images convey to you personally, and what do you hope they will convey to the reader?
ZZ: We both are very visual. Simon paints with oil--mostly, his dreams, but his dreams are also his poems, and so are his paintings. Surrealist to the bone. As for me, I used to study drawing when I wanted to become an artist. Your hand always remembers--even if you head doesn't. Some layers just came out as we have stirred things so deeply. But for me writing comes more natural and from deeper places. Drawings are illustrations; they are secondary.
SR: To me, the drawings and the poems are very much interlaced, to the point where I cannot think the poem apart from the drawing and vice versa. I believe there was an inner necessity that called for these drawings, as if the words (Echo) called out for the image (Narcissus). In a sense, the relationship between the poems and the drawings feels like a fated love story – but quite happily so. I hope these drawings “break the mind,” ease the grip of rational thought on the reader and act as doors or channels that might make the reader more receptive to the flow of words (and sounds) passing through the eye and taking shape in the soul, perhaps even in the body. Then, I believe, we will really have accomplished our Work.
UTSQ: What were you reading, listening to, and/or watching while creating Green Lions? Who are your overall influences? Who do you love to read?
ZZ: I do remember watching Diva, a black-and-white French movie. We later used the piano music for the Underwater Duet. Anais Nin's The New Novel. Overall influence--I am omnivorous and lack system. Can I send the photo of my bookshelf please? Seriously, in poetry Pushkin, Blake, Jim Morrison. Prose: Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Gogol, Bulgakov, Lewis Carrol, Fitzgerald, Salinger, Kundera. Honestly, I can go on for a long time, and it depends on a given day.
SR: If I recall correctly, I was complaining about having to read an imposed reading list for my Master’s exam in French Literature while we were writing the poems in Green Lions. Perhaps the sense of freedom I now experience in rereading these poems are linked with the desire I had to break free from mental and structural constraints. I think Zarina sparked a different voice in me. It feels more akin to the surrealist Paul Eluard than to my denser Baudelairean side.
UTSQ: And finally, Zarina and Simon, if you could have a meal with anyone, dead or alive, real or imaginary, whom would it be, what would you talk about, and what on earth would the two of you eat?
ZZ: I would have a big dinner with my grandmothers, grandfathers, mother, and father. I miss them all and I have a lot of questions for them. Can I have all of them, please? We would have pirozhki with cabbage, and apples, and drink lindenberry juice and talk, talk, talk.
SR: I would have lobster, and oysters, and champagne. It’s very difficult to pick a person, dead or alive, as I don’t really feel I am missing out on anything due to the interesting and creative people I am lucky to be surrounded by. But I think I might like to have dinner with Carl Jung. (Herr Jung, if you can hear me, my address is…)
Green Lions is available on Amazon.com
Simon Rogghe and Zarina Zabrisky are poetic orphan gypsies of cosmopolitan origin. When they began to write poems to each other, a “third mind” was created. Duets, diptychs, amalgams, their poems dissolve the boundaries between their separate identities. Together, they also perform their writing to music, driving and dancing around the United States. Their book of collaborative poetry, Green Lions, debuted as a theater show blending art, music, poetry and dance (http://ballettothepeople.com/2014/11/13/green-lions-and-word-performances-spark-at-great-star-theater/).
Zarina Zabrisky is the author of the short story collections IRON and A CUTE TOMBSTONE (Epic Rites Press), and a novel WE, MONSTERS (Numina Press). Her work was published in six countries. She is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee and a recipient of a 2013 Acker Award.
Simon Rogghe is a poet, fiction writer and translator of French surrealism and contemporary fiction, currently earning his Ph.D. in French literature at UC Berkeley. His work has appeared in over twenty literary journals, including 3:AM Magazine, Gone Lawn and Paris Lit Up.
Radical surrealists, they believe that literature is larger than its authors, that art is bigger than an artist.
Zarina Zabrisky is the author of the short story collections IRON and A CUTE TOMBSTONE (Epic Rites Press), and a novel WE, MONSTERS (Numina Press). Her work was published in six countries. She is a three-time Pushcart Prize nominee and a recipient of a 2013 Acker Award.
Simon Rogghe is a poet, fiction writer and translator of French surrealism and contemporary fiction, currently earning his Ph.D. in French literature at UC Berkeley. His work has appeared in over twenty literary journals, including 3:AM Magazine, Gone Lawn and Paris Lit Up.
Radical surrealists, they believe that literature is larger than its authors, that art is bigger than an artist.