For the doves
Ron Padgett flies home for an evening of poetry and prose
Ron Padgett // Photo by John Sarsgard
Poets of the so-called “New York School” of the 50s and 60s are giants. No question. John Ashbery, Frank O’Hara, Kenneth Koch. Legends, all.
But have you heard of the Tulsa wing of the New York School? That’s what Ashberry coined the quartet that included Joe Brainard, Dick Gallup, Ted Berrigan (not a true Tulsan, but a TU grad), and Ron Padgett.
The group first gained notice through “The White Dove Review,” its DIY literary journal created and produced while its members attended Central High School in downtown Tulsa. The journal published works by icons of the era, including Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg.
The group soon fled to The Big Apple, where Padgett attended Columbia, which led to Paris on a Fulbright. Then Padgett moved back to NYC, settling in the East Village. In the half century since, Padgett not only emerged as the most prolific and enduring of the group that published “White Dove,” but, through sheer survival and gift for recollection, he also has preserved the journey through his touching memoirs, “Ted” and “Joe,” about his friends Ted Berrigan and Joe Brainard. Both died tragically young, the former at 49 (cirrhosis of the liver), the latter at 52 (AIDS-related pneumonia).
But it’s through his work as a poet and more than 20 collections that Ron Padgett has made his biggest impact, not just on his readers through the decades, but on the countless students lucky enough to have had him for a mentor during his stints at the likes of Columbia University and Brooklyn College. He also served as Director of the Poetry Project at Saint Mark’s Church.
Padgett has written often about Oklahoma, especially this city: what it means, what we sound like, the way we live. Even when describing the mundane, Padgett gives wings to the ordinary.
One of Padgett’s regionally popular works is his 2003 memoir, “Oklahoma Tough,” about his bootlegging father, Wayne. His look into the group known as the “Dixie Mafia” is worth the read, but his exploration into the relationship between fathers and sons is timeless. This book, stunted a bit because it was published by a university press (University of Oklahoma), should have been a bestseller. It should also be a film. Better yet, let’s call HBO. A drama series sounds like a better treatment than a mere 90 minutes worth of film. There’s a lot to cover.
The prestigious Coffee House Press, Padgett’s longtime publisher, recently released “Collected Poems,” a nearly 1,000-page, career-spanning omnibus. It’s essential. Oklahoma has a Poet Laureate, a position that changes hands every two years. Tulsa has Ron Padgett. And like a Supreme Court Justice, his term is for life. The work itself is immortal.
On Tuesday, April 1 (no fooling), at the Hardesty Arts Center downtown, through my ongoing endeavor known as Booksmart Tulsa, Ron Padgett returns to Tulsa to celebrate this new collection, to read and to take questions, and more. It’s presented in partnership with the Arts & Humanities Council of Tulsa’s “Louder Than A Bomb” poetry program, profiled in the Feb. 19, 2014, edition of this publication. Start time is 7 p.m.; admission is free and open to all.
PADGETT AT A GLANCE
Ron Padgett fell into Andy Warhol’s circle, sitting for one of Warhol’s famous screen tests in 1964. Brainard also did a screen test.
Ron Padgett, like Bob Dylan, was one of the lucky souls to get to know Woody Guthrie before his death. Imagine those conversations.
Aside from his lifelong friend Joe Brainard, now equally regarded in the literary and visual arts, Padgett has collaborated with many other Pop artists, including Jim Dine and Alex Katz.
In 2009, Yale University acquired the Ron Padgett Archive. It is described there as: “Ninety linear feet. Correspondence (over 20,000 pages), manuscripts (over 50,000 pages), “bokes” (about 1,000 pages), notebooks, diaries, journals, White Dove Review (complete file), Full Court Press (complete file), and miscellaneous.”