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Professor Jenne' Rodey Andrews, M.F.A., is a highly regarded American poet, critic and memoirist. Recent work has appeared in former Autumn House Publisher Michael Simms' Vox Populi (over fifteen poems) The Passionate Transitory, Belletrist Coterie, The Adirondack Review and elsewhere.

Andrews' current ms of poetry Beautiful Dust was a finalist for the 2014 Autumn House and she recently withdrew the work from Salmon Ltd, Ireland to protest unmoderated bashing of American writers by Irish writers on the press's social media pages.

Her most recent collection, Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, lauded by Robert Bly and endorsed by poets Jim Moore, Dawn Potter and Patricia Kirkpatrick, appeared from Finishing Line Press 2013. A booklength collection Beautiful Dust was 2014 finalist for the Autumn House Press Poetry Prize and solicited by Salmon Press, Ireland. Turning on work set in the West and her native Southwest the collection is under submission to 2019 publication prizes.

Andrews is currently hard at work on two new memoirs: The Shame Garden: A Woman Writes of Isolation, Despair and Self-Redemption, which in intensely wrought and imagistic prose poetry chronicles the anatomy of shame; it is the poet's late-in-life tour d'force, sending the reader through Dante's circles of hell, the sewers of Paris ala Les Mis, mano a mano confrontations with the Alien mater familias, fusing literary and vintage cinematic works in an elliptical dance with human history and experience of being Other. The poet has no idea of what will become of this work but hopes it finds a home as memoir with a small press.

A four part interview with Andrews went live at poet Maureen Doallas's blog Writing without Paper in 2010.

Other collections include the full-length Reunion, Lynx House Press, The Dark Animal of Liberty, Leaping Mountain Press, and In Pursuit of the Family, edited and published by Robert Bly and the Minnesota Writers Publishing House.

Her work has been anthologized in Heartland II, Northern Illinois University Press, 25 Minnesota Vols. I and II, Wingbone: An Anthology of Colorado Poetry, Women Poets of the Twin Cities, Oil and Water and Other Things that Don't Mix, and elsewhere.

Essays have appeared in MPR's Magazine, The Colorado Review, The Twin Falls Times News, and miscellaneous journals.

IIt is Prof. Andrews' belief that one's collection of poetry must be judged on the quality of its craft, voice, and language, not its themes.


With Mr. Bly the memoirist Patricia Hampl wrote a forward to her first collection and is considered the "mother" of the modern American memoir although she arguably shares this title with Mary Karr for Karr's The Liar's Club. Andrews mentored Karr in Minneapolis when the former was circa 19.

Professor Andrews has had an illustrious teaching career at Colorado State University and the University of Colorado where she taught prelaw students in the making of argument and the issues-oriented seminar The American West. She was the highest rated instructor in the University Writing program during her tenure at Boulder.

Currently Professor Andrews writes daily at age 70, having been rendered housebound in 2007 in a fall from a horse, at home with her lover and companion of thirty years the fiction writer Jack Brooks, ten new poems a month, and is working on an additional memoir about her pioneer roots, "Territory Fever: The Story of an Albuquerque Family," posted as chapters are finished to Loquaciously Yours where the poet has produced over 450 essays in the past decade on a variety of topics as well as book reviews. Upcoming: a review of Ethna McKiernan's new Salmon Collection.

Ms. Andrews is also a Civil Rights Advocate advocating in 2019 for the civil rights of the poet Ping Wang who recently won the AWP Award for Memoir.

In 2015, after a long battle, Andrews extracted her MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Colorado State University, begun and finished in the 80's, self-advocating under the Americans with Disabilities Act. In fact Andrews was instrumental in the Colorado Commission on Higher Education's approval of the MFA at CSU.

She is a literary fellow of the National Endowment for the Arts, the Minnesota Arts Board Fellowship, was short-listed for a Bush Foundation Fellowship, and was full-time Poet in Residence for the St. Paul Schools from '74-78.

She lived in St. Paul from 1971-78 during the first wave of the Twin Cities literary renaissance, one of the first poets to inaugurate The Loft Literary Center, co-founding Women Poets of the Twin Cities which as noted boosted the careers of Mary Karr, Ethna McKiernan and others, and spent the summer of 1973 in Reggio Calabria, Italy which gave rise to the "voluptuous prose-poetry" memoir Nightfall in Verona posted in entirety here, designated by arts maven and former friend Caroline Marshall of NPR The Writer Reads as "fabulous."

Circa 2010 Andrews also founded a poetry group on She Writes which included Dawn Potter, Katha Pollock and other noteworthy writers, and supported the work of Meg Waite Clayton, fiction writer in addition to mentoring a number of other up and coming writers.

There is no way to estimate the influence on the lives and work of the some 12,000 students k-12 she met and encouraged in the seventies, but the poet James Tolan has attributed his career to her work as it was anthologized in Heartland II, Lucien Stryk, Editor. Professor Stryk read the title poem of In Pursuit of the Family on NPR.

As noted the poet lives in northern Colorado's Poudre River Valley with her husband, fiction writer Jack Brooks; the couple's daily life is centered around writing and enjoying their beautiful imported Golden Retrievers;-- see the Ardorgold website for details. Contact: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com.

Signed copies of the Blackbirds Dance collection, endorsed by James Moore, Patricia Kirkpatrick and Dawn Potter, are available from the poet. She posts new work below and is available for mentorship and virtual readings via Skype.

She is happy to critique ms. of poetry, fiction and memoir for a small fee.

Showing posts with label Dame Joan Sutherland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dame Joan Sutherland. Show all posts

Sunday, March 6, 2011

A Poem for One Shoot Sunday...




Poem for One-Shoot Sunday, a photo prompt hosted by One Stop Poetry.  Here is the prompt, a photograph by Jacob Lucas , followed by my “take.”


On Touring an Abandoned Opera House in Bavaria

This is how the set looked after 
Standing ovations brought the house down
And the roof melted in the rain.

Here then is where an angel sang
In a pearl-bright gown at the apron
Like a refugee from paradise

And I would close my eyes, trembling. 
I stood in line for a ticket in the weather
Sat in the gods, highest tier

Her voice would pierce me there;
I would walk rapture’s tightrope
When she distilled longing into light.

I am the one who threw roses
From the balcony’s darkest corner
I was there in Cologne the night

She sang Alcina, thawing all of Bavaria.
I have feasted on her bel canto like bread
And when I see the darkened proscenium

The scrim of the heather asunder
I conjure striking night after hours
When the ghost crew comes in drunk

To deal death blows to the set
But cannot quench the arboreal fire she left
For Traviata’s chandelier.

I walk along a bridge over the park
The roving moon defines
For the bereft.

I know that he tucks her in each night
Pressing her like a spent orchid
Between his hands 

Her nearly sepulchral face
Tear-stained, lunar white
In the stilled room’s shadows

Forever, the one true Lucia.
Here a closet diva aches for a reprisal,
Reliving every silver-throated run.



copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011


I

Monday, October 18, 2010

An Elegy for Dame Joan Sutherland.

On the Death of a Coloratura

Ohime, sorge il tremendo fantasma e ne separa!
Qui recovriamo, Edgardo, a pie dell'ara.
Sparsa e di rose!
Un armonia celeste, di, non ascolti?*

Il Dolce Sueno, "Mad Scene" Lucia di Lammermoor
.
For R.B.
.
Someone is weeping
In a churchyard in Geneva
At a beloved’s headstone.
Her song is everywhere
But she, the body of love
Is gone.
He pulls the satin-edged twilight
Over his head--
At the end
Reprising her Covent Garden
Lucia
She touched his face:
Quickly, amore,
There is one with lilies
Of the valley
In her hair, at the gate.
.
After the memorial mass
Bach cascades
From the cathedral
He returns to the chalet;
.
Dusk mutes the patina
Of the mahogany piano.
A belated bouquet
Of blood bright roses leans
From the shadows.
Some phrase of hers
Reaches for him, too faint
To hear:
.
The blind doves of his hands
Flutter through the cupboard
Looking for oolong,
The Limoges teapot,
With its chipped spout-
Even now its replacement
In the freight, swaddled in excelsior
From Paris.
.
It was a beautiful life
He thinks, ‘ne regrette ‘rien—
Working off his wedding band
Wrapping it in a silk handkerchief
Redolent with Madame Rochas
Tucking it in the top drawer
Of a cedar-lined chiffonier
.
The Times rustles
In the dooryard
Yearning to distract him
But is the hour when
After rehearsal
They took the air
In her garden
Where pinching back
Hybrid rhododendron
She tripped and fell.
.
He returns
To the gazebo
Humming
‘Out of the depths
 I call unto thee”
Sipping from a glass
Of Valpolicella:
.
In the grove of firs
Soon to be snow-laden,
Mute with her absence--.
The one he called
Dearest, that they hailed
In Milano
As La Stupenda—
.
She, who sotto voce
Fed him the lover’s bread
Of the prescient body--
He lies down
On the frost-laced earth.

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews, 2010.

*Ah!  A tremendous phantom arises
That will not leave me…
Let us take refuge here, Edgardo,
at the foot of the altar
Strewn with roses
Do you not hear the harmony of heaven?