Cave Canem fellow Cedric Tillman extricates beauty from the banality of daily life and crafts it into works of art

By Tamryn Spruill

“Sometimes I go through lengthy dry spells and wonder if I’m still a poet,” said Cedric Tillman. ” I think a lot of times a poet doesn’t know if he or she is a poet between poems. Every time you write a new poem, you feel like you get to call yourself a poet again for a few more days.”

Photo by Makia TillmanLife between poems for Cave Canem fellow Cedric Tillman is comprised of roles both mundane and appealing. A husband, a father, a professional editor and a college sports fiend, Tillman is half-everyman, half-eccentric poet. Relying on life – in all its sorrow, glee, banality and excitement – to feed his aspiration, he uses verse to name the specific, but in a way that seems universal.

The muse was awakened in Tillman during his hormonally-charged teen years. In high school, he knew he wanted to put words together like the “dead old white men” of the Romantic era or the British poets of the 17^th century. “I envied (and still envy) them,” Tillman said. “And I beat myself up a lot for being unable to convey meaning within the strictures of forms they used.” It was Wordsworth’s “Tintern Abbey” that made Tillman want to be a poet, but his first love inspired his first poem.

Claiming to have written poems about modified versions of 20 or 30 different women in his life, Cedric Tillman calls God his muse, not the fairer sex. “My muse is the need I believe he gave me to write,” Tillman explained. “Life is my muse and women are muses, of course. They’ve been the subject of a disproportionate amount of my work since I started writing.”

Cedric Tillman rode his muse to an English degree from the University of North Carolina at Charlotte in 1999 and an MFA in Creative Writing from American University in 2004. During his graduate school years, Tillman transformed from a roving-eyed bachelor into a married man and, eventually, into a father. Today, Tillman’s work focuses less on the angst of love and more on daughter, Charis, who is now three. With the angst of girl troubles behind him, Tillman has been able to switch gears and turn his attention to projects that focus on other themes, like his early years living in rural North Carolina.

Oh, yeah. Cedric Tillman is African-American. And he seems to resent being labeled an “African-American poet” instead of “poet” or “American poet”. In fact, he seems to have little respect for labels in general. Gratefully, it would be nearly impossible to classify poetry by African-Americans as anything homogenous. From slam poetry and the vernacular of Paul Lawrence Dunbar to the disparate talents of Audre Lorde and Cornelius Eady, the poetic landscape of our brown-skinned brothers and sisters is dotted with all of the elements of the seasons, the mountains and the valleys, desert lands and lush greenery.

When forced to identify a quality common to black poets, Tillman mentions the theme of loss. Of black poetry, Tillman said, “It’s frequently aspirational about the future and angry about the past, haunted... by what its creators think we might have been had history been kinder to us... mournful of lost potential and then, [often] within the same poem, reveling in the idea that we’re still here through it all.”

With that said, Cedric Tillman is emphatic about his refusal to categorize himself. While he respects the acknowledgement of the shared past of African-Americans, in his own work he appreciates that it often doesn’t go there, but appeals to “any and all”, regardless of race, gender, nationality or political ideology. “So there are times when I want to just be a male and an American, without the hyphenated prefix,” Tillman said.

”And there are times when I’m moved to remind myself and potential readers that no prefix clashes [more] with ‘American’ like ‘African’, because the marriage of the two was so forcibly arranged.” Yet, Tillman is quick to acknowledge the unspoken pressure he feels to use his work to address issues of the world today as well as the past.

And this is where chains get broken.

The Cave Canem logo portrays the image of a growling dog on a chain. If you look carefully, you notice the chain is broken. The Cave Canem website reports its mission as “to protect the poets and, by breaking the chain... unleash these vital new voices into the literary world.” Cedric Tillman attended the Cave Canem retreat in 2008 at the University of Pittsburgh at Greensburg under the tutelage of guest writer Ntozake Shange of for colored girls who have committed suicide/when the rainbow is enuf fame.

“At Cave Canem, I felt empowered to take risks I don’t think I might have in the MFA program I attended,” Tillman said.“I brought poems to the Cave Canem workshops with slang and colloquialisms and uses of idiom that I would’ve been more tentative to share with a different audience.”Amongst peers, Tillman felt comfortable engaging in frank discussions about issues related to vernacular and the delivery of black speech without compromising the universality of the work.

“For me, the broken chain represents the absence of self-censorship a black poet might experience in the average MFA program or workshop setting,” Tillman explained. “[And] the chain [itself] is sometimes just feeling or knowing that the likelihood is low that someone who shares your life experiences will be on the receiving end of the work you submit.” But Cave Canem helped him to simply break free from the constraints of daily life which prevent him from writing and exploring ideas – a conundrum faced by most creative types unlucky enough to still be holding down day jobs. Yet, to be viewed as a poet, unencumbered by the burdens of gender or skin color, perhaps would be the ultimate evidence of a shackle broken.

But Cave Canem would provide another kind of stimulus to Cedric Tillman, too. The intensity of the workshop, in the company of 50 other “super-talented, multifaceted and extraordinary African-American artists” prodded Tillman to step up his game to become more assiduous about the process of writing new material and editing, or rehabbing, older works that have potential. Enveloped in a camaraderie that only could be found in such a communally creative environment, Tillman walked away from Cave Canem not only with the feeling of belonging to a new artistic family, but with a restored sense of competition. The work habits of his fellows, along with their rich talents, urged him into becoming a better craftsman of poems. “To not work, to not produce, is like being the weak link in the chain,” Tillman said. “And there’s such a strong sense of family amongst the attendees. Many of us remarked to one another how alone in the world you feel sometimes until you come to this space, where you make friends with kindred spirits from Detroit and LA and Atlanta and Mount Airy, NC and DC and New York and all over.”

Back home in Charlotte, North Carolina, the creative high of being in the company of Cave Canem fellows and receiving guidance from modern day poetry masters waned and gave way to ordinary life. Cedric Tillman returned to a 40-minute daily commute to work and the responsibilities of caring for a family. Before he could fully process the glory of the summer, his mind was filled yet again with the demands of daily living. The quest for just the right word or turn of phrase was relegated to late nights in front of the computer after the house had fallen asleep. And in the breath of his sleeping child, the smile of his devoted wife or the knowing eyes of a grandparent, Tillman finds the muse.

But what’s it all for? Poetry sections are among the smallest in bookstores, so where does the vast portfolio that Tillman is amassing lead? “Hopefully some of the judges of the contests I’m interested in will take an interest in my work,” he said. “Like most writers, I’m looking for an excuse to have more time to write. Very few poets sell enough books to create the space to write that we fantasize about, [but] I believe my poetry is accessible and approachable enough to do better than average sales.”

Cedric Tillman is doing something right. For the third time in four years, he has had a poem selected for publication in Kakalak: Anthology of Carolina Poets. His poem "ram in the bush: Mr. Sturdivant's story" was recently accepted into Kakalak 2009 for publication later in the year. But with poetry readership at dismal lows in the U.S. and overall challenges plaguing the publishing industry, Tillman remains pragmatic on the topic of having his dream career as a paid poet. The dearth of African-American males in the U.S. education system compels him to want to teach one day.

But for the time being, he continues to write. And for a poet who questions the accuracy of the label, Cedric Tillman rises to the occasion.

By Cedric Tillman

The sun makes the evening hot and thick

but he barely sweats.

On cool summer nights

he might burn the gas wall heater on low.

Most days, one of his girls

or the grands from over the river

come to check on him

but they never spend the night.

Momma says they argued

as long as she could remember.

And Grandma yapped back

like the best of ‘em.

When she was 78,

he pushed her down the four steps

that led up to the front door

and put her in the hospital.

When she got out she came to Bible study

and Ms. Johnnie said

if you want I got something

that’ll bark over here and bite over yonder

but Grandma was nothing like that.

It’s hard to tell what hurts him more

The fact that she’s gone

or that she was more fragile,

hard to say

if he truly misses her or simply

finds life inconvenient

without her

Maybe his memories explain

this constant look of pain and frustration

as if he’s trying to revise his life,

trying to save over something

that won’t erase.

Mademoiselle Jewelry and the pursuit of wearable art

By Tamryn Spruill

Hairpin. Hatpin. Broche.

Crucifix. Star of David. Rosary. Mala.

Earring. Nose ring. Neck ring. Lip disc.

Wedding ring.

Celebrity bling.

Throughout history, jewelry has played prominent and varied roles in human societies. Bones, animal teeth and shells were worn by Cro-Magnon man; citizens of ancient civilizations covered themselves with amulets that they believed would protect them from evil spirits; and people of religions the world over have worn and continue to wear religious symbols. Nowadays, with jewelry used primarily to accessorize fashion, it often serves no other purpose but to adorn the body and express the personality of the wearer. Sure, matching a pair of earrings to a dress pattern may sound modest compared to thwarting an evil spirit with an amulet, but jewelry’s modern societal function is pretty amazing in its own right; it is essentially an everyday form of artistic expression – of both jewelry maker and wearer—on a massive scale.

In an age of jewelry for every woman or man, anything goes, and no one understands that better than Michelle Samson, president of Mademoiselle Jewelry. Based in New York City, Mademoiselle Jewelry was founded on the principle that jewelry is art and, therefore, “uniquely you.”

“The whole point of starting ‘MJ’ was to hand-select the type of jewelry that you aren’t likely to find in your average retail store,” Samson explains. “We really try to stick to our slogan – ‘jewelry that is uniquely you.’”

Michelle Samson, president of Mademoiselle JewelryMichelle Samson first grew fond of the hypnotic lure of unique jewelry as a child, sneaking into her grandmother’s collection of antique pieces, and coveting them until she was caught. The first seeds of love for fashion and accessories shaped her into a fashionista who understands the value of painting a complete fashion picture, with jewelry functioning as the instrumental fine lines. She created Mademoiselle Jewelry as a reaction to what she found to be a largely homogenous jewelry selection in New York City , a fashion capital, where retailers tend to mimic the same trends across the economic spectrum.

“Right now we import jewelry from Brazil, Canada, China, Japan, Korea, India, Indonesia, Israel and Thailand,” Samson says. “I really love interacting with my international designers and vendors... I learned really fast that you have to be very clear and concise with instructions and [that you have to] follow-up frequently to make sure there is no miscommunication due to language barriers. In the end, it is always worthwhile because the jewelry is handmade and absolutely beautiful.”

Currently, Mademoiselle Jewelry operates largely as an online retailer, supplementing Samson’s activities with New York City street fairs, which can be quite lucrative for vendors. At the “Madison Avenue Summer Fair” and the “Brazilian Day Festival” in Times Square this summer, Samson received impromptu press coverage from international news programs. “Veniufuklar,” a Turkish production, and “NY Life: Tapesh TV,” a Persian television show that airs via satellite, both took a keen interest in the diverse, international offerings of MJ. But Samson didn’t let the coverage go to her head.

“Both times I was having a hard time not cracking up on camera,” she grinned.

Indeed, bucking trends, having fun – and most importantly building an inventory that satisfies differing tastes and budgets – are important to the way Mademoiselle Jewelry does business.

Mademoiselle Jewelry Fall 2008“We like to have a very good mix as far as price point and materials are concerned,” Samson says. “Although yellow gold is very big right now in the fashion world, we have over 200 pieces of sterling silver jewelry. We also recently added a fashion jewelry section for the more price sensitive consumer.”

But keeping the focus on art and creativity is foremost in Michelle Samson’s mind and her company firmly embraces new designers who create innovative works of wearable art.

“There are so many phenomenal designers out there that just don’t get the exposure they deserve,” Samson said. “Shortly after the company’s inception, we created a special section of the website dedicated to up-and-coming designers. We will be adding a new designer within the next month, so that is also something to keep an eye out for. “

And, to continue to offer the variety of jewelry she would like to see at retailers herself, Samson recently hired a creative director who she describes as a “fashion authority.”

Whatever MJ is doing, it’s working. The Fall 2008 collection is lining up to be one of her strongest so far.

“We are adding some really original and fun pieces that will feature deeper, richer colors like amethyst, lapis, malachite and onyx,” Samson says. “You will see different materials used also.” Copper, tri-tone metals and oxidized silver, which gives sterling silver a vintage look, will also be an addition to the fall line.

“One of our funkier designers, Foxy Originals, just came out with a brand new line called ‘Enchanted Forest’, which is really worth checking out,” Samson added.

For Michelle Samson, jewelry holds special vitality, which is reflected in Mademoiselle Jewelry’s philosophy and inventory. Creating an outlet for distinctive and affordable accessories is a mission MJ has accomplished in high style, to the delight of established fashionistas, wannabes and everyone in between.

For more information, please visit http://www.mademoisellejewelry.com or contact Michelle Samson directly at michelle@mademoisellejewelry.com.

Fear not the editor’s red pen!

By Tamryn Spruill

Face facts: Entrepreneurial spirit is alive and well; and so is competition. Today, more than ever, success depends upon your ability to distinguish your company from its competitors. Globalization and the Internet have leveled the playing field, and both veteran industry leaders and savvy startups have honed their online presence to stay ahead of the game. In an age when online consumers average around five seconds before deciding to stay on a site or surf away, your website and promotional materials must not only surpass your competitors, but also keep your prospect engaged. Whether you designed your company’s website or hired a professional to do it for you, content and presentation are crucial. Words matter. And if you think otherwise, you’re wrong.

Recently, I found myself in the position of looking for a virtual assistant to manage my administrative duties. I trolled the Internet and found countless websites for virtual assistance companies with enough spelling, grammar and syntax errors to give an editor a stroke. Not only did those companies not win my business, they scared me off before I could get past their home pages.

Repulsion to hastily written copy is hardly unique to those of us in the editorial profession. A few months ago, one of my clients (not an editorial professional) fired her marketing consultant for producing work that was plagued by sloppy errors that could’ve been prevented by simply running spell check or proofreading. If you’re not convinced that a poorly written website and sloppy promotional materials could be costing you clients or forcing prospects to ex out of your homepage—and revenue stream—forever, then go ahead and surf away. But if you’re committed to taking a single simple step to eradicate those mistakes for good, then please read on.

I proudly confess that I submit my writing to the red pen of an editor, especially when I am short on time and unable to proofread content to my level of comfort. My editor also subjects his writing to the red pen of an editor… and so on and so forth. Professional editors, writers and proofreaders hire other editorial professionals to ensure that their written words are clear, concise and error-free. Hiring an editorial professional does not indicate a shortcoming on your part; it demonstrates your commitment to professionalism and quality. If the pros use professionals to perfect their copy, maybe it’s time for you to reevaluate the quality of all the content that represents your business – online and on paper.

So, is hiring an editor worth your hard-earned dollar? You will benefit from the services of an editor, writer or proofreader if:

• Spelling, grammar and sentence construction are not your forte;
• You are an excellent writer, but you want to make sure that all of your “t’s” are crossed and all of your “i’s” are dotted;
• You don’t have the time to meet your writing, editing or proofreading demands;
• You are looking for a new “voice” or a fresh pair of eyes; or
• You don’t like writing!

A good editorial professional does not take haughty pleasure in blasting you with stinging criticism or pointing out what you did wrong. Instead, a good editor, writer or proofreader is dedicated to producing copy that:

• Effectively communicates your company’s mission, products and services;
• Is clear, concise and error-free; and
• Is easily readable and highly engaging.

So, fear not the editor’s red pen! Hiring a second set of eyes to review your copy and make changes before it goes public is an investment in your company that will produce long returns.

Disclaimer: This article was subjected to the red pen of my editor.

As seen on Resource Nation!

Investigating the imaginary schism between “inside” and “outside” creative music

By Peter Breslin

For the past two years, I’ve produced and hosted a radio show on a small, community-supported, public radio station in Santa Fe, New Mexico. The show, called “Inside Out,” was part of the station’s 24 hours of jazz programming a week, an unusual format not widely adopted in the US radio market, public or commercial. What’s more unusual, the program was scheduled during an afternoon time slot, from 1-3 pm. Heightening even further the unusual situation: I had complete freedom in programming decisions and often featured recordings by so-called avant garde musicians and composers: the dreaded “free jazz.”

Inside Out was based on a very simple musicological premise: creative composed and improvised music is a vast continuum, not a schizoid “us versus them” art form. There’s no need to draw battle lines between so-called “inside jazz,” traditional and mainstream, and “outside jazz,” revolutionary and obscure. Programming decisions were intended to highlight the creative risks in the best of the entire spectrum of the music, from Fletcher Henderson to Anthony Braxton. Several artists provided ample crossover credentials, swinging just as easily and just as hard across categories. Just a few of these artists include Duke Ellington, Sonny Rollins, Miles Davis, Max Roach, Charles Mingus, Don Cherry, Elvin Jones, Eric Dolphy, Andrew Hill, David Murray, The World Saxophone Quartet, The Art Ensemble of Chicago and John Coltrane.

Some readers may be wondering what the big deal is. Jazz, after all, is risky business. The latest record industry stats give it a measly 2% market share, and the bulk of that is represented by the bland, sugary likes of Chris Botti and Candy Dulfer. For many, the music is an historical artifact, an archive of a particular time in American musical history, a movement that briefly gained the world stage and then just as quickly vanished into near total obscurity with the advent of rock ‘n’ roll, way back in the ‘50s.

Part of the big deal has to do also with why I am tempted to employ scare quotes around the word “jazz” itself. The word conjures many different musical forms for different people, everything from ragged New Orleans funeral marches to Louis Armstrong, from swing to slick, saccharine “smooth jazz,” from Ella Fitzgerald to Norah Jones. The problem with the word “jazz:” it rarely evokes the full scope of the vast range of composed and improvised music created between roughly 1960 and right now.

The imaginary schism between “mainstream” and “outside” creative music supposedly happened circa 1959-1965, coinciding with the rise of Ornette Coleman to critical prominence, the quantum changes in the music of Miles Davis and John Coltrane and the emergence of Cecil Taylor. But this is just the contemporary mythology. As early as the ‘40s, trad jazz aficionados were slighting Fletcher Henderson and Duke Ellington for “not playing jazz.” A whole new wave of innovators arose among the Be Bop artists, who in turn were accused of “not playing jazz.” Ironically, in spite of being characterized as cacophonous and anti-social during its own time, be bop is now considered the capstone of the music, with its harmonic and melodic strategies dominating jazz education programs at high schools and universities across the country. Then came “Modern Jazz,” interrogated yet again as “not jazz.” By 1959, in other words, “jazz” had already been through at least 3 major stylistic revolutions, each of which supposedly heralded the end of jazz, and each of which subsequently went on to become firmly established as “the real thing,” or at least welcomed into the commercial and cultural lexicon.

Free jazz, avant garde jazz, outside jazz, whatever you want to call it, caused the same hand-wringing and outrage as earlier innovations, but never went on to be widely accepted as just plain “jazz.” This marked a departure from previous patterns. Instead, the battle lines between “traditional jazz,” (which suddenly could refer to anything from King Oliver to Dizzy Gillespie to Miles Davis’ late ‘50s/early ‘60s recordings), and “free jazz” remained firmly drawn in the US for nearly 20 years, at least until the late ‘70s. In the minds of many traditionalists, such as Stanley Crouch, Albert Murray and Wynton Marsalis, the lines are still drawn, though perhaps softening somewhat.

The mythology posits that a bunch of untutored renegades who couldn’t play their instruments, who didn’t know the history of the music and who didn’t swing invaded the civilized worlds of jazz and attempted a noisy coup, burning the Jazz Palace to the ground and generally frightening the populace. This mythology reinforces “free jazz” as an aberrant form, an anomaly largely made possible by the general foment of the late ‘60s. When everyone in jazz returned to their senses by the late ‘70s, the stage was set for the “neo-traditionalists,” led by Wynton Marsalis and his pride of Young Lions. Their mission: to restore jazz to its rightful place as a respectable, friendly, sensible music, based in the blues and the 32-bar song. This mythology proved so powerful that it still sticks today.

Inside Out was dedicated to exploding the myth, revealing several aesthetic strands that make it an impossible story. One strand is the urgency and inventiveness of earlier forms at their best, often unthinkingly labeled as “traditional,” but actually radical and laden with creative risk. Another strand is the deep reverence for and influence of the entire history of the music connecting all of the many artists in so-called “free jazz.” Yet another strand is the multifaceted scene that was unfolding in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, clearly indicating that jazz needed no saving, no restoring and no rescuing. There are several other perspectives on the music, each of which shows the organic development of so-called “free jazz” out of the roots and branches of previously embraced forms.

I moved from Santa Fe , and for a year recorded Inside Out in my living room. The show was recently canceled, due to the desire of the station to have a live host in the studio, not a canned one. But over its two years, Inside Out may have provided the only opportunity in the US to hear Anthony Braxton on the radio at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, or what’s more, to hear Duke Ellington and company setting fire to the stage at Newport in 1956, followed by The Cecil Taylor Unit tearing up Yugoslavia in 1976, for example. The point was not lost on many listeners, who gained an appreciation for certain forms of music they had previously dismissed as “just too out there.” The music continues to live and breathe, a miracle in the face of commercial neglect and widespread misconceptions. Give a listen and look for connections, not differences. To paraphrase Ornette Coleman, beauty might not be such a rare thing, after all.