Arts Blog

Pulling Back the Burka: A Glimpse of Afghan Life Through Poetry

Mary Jo Brooks — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 16:02:12 -0500

Journalist and poet Eliza Griswold set out to document Afghan life through the prism of oral folk poems shared mostly among Pashtun women. Seamus Murphy, the London-based photographer and filmmaker who worked with Griswold on the landay project, has been covering events in Afghanistan for 20 years. He narrates a slideshow of some of his favorite images.

For 10 years, journalist Eliza Griswold reported from Afghanistan and Pakistan for publications like The New York Times and The New Yorker. But she was frustrated that in pursuit of the headlines, some of her most interesting stories were left on the cutting room floor. Too often, she felt, she wasn't able to convey the humanity and humor of the Afghan people who were living with the daily realities of war.

Last year, she embarked on a project to tell those stories by collecting oral folk poems shared mostly among Pashtun women.

I dream I am the president.
When I awake, I am the beggar of the world.

The poems are called landays. Just two lines long with 22 syllables, they carry a bite. (One meaning of the word landay is short, poisonous snake.)

"This is rural folk poetry. This is poetry that's meant to be oral. It's passed mouth to mouth. Ear to ear. And the women have recited these poems for centuries," said Griswold.

A poet herself, Griswold collaborated with photographer Seamus Murphy to document Afghan life through the prism of these landays. Poetry Magazine is devoting its entire June issue to their work.

As with poetry everywhere, many of the themes deal with love and lust.

Slide your hand inside my bra
Stroke a red and ripening pomegranate of Kandahar

"Pull the burka back and she will talk to you about the size of her husband's manhood. She will go right for it: sex, raunch, kissing, rage. She will talk about the rage of what it is to be cast in this role of subservient, in a way that is really startling," says Griswold.

The landays are a way to subvert the social code in which women are prohibited from speaking freely. Since the poems are collective and anonymous "women can claim they just overhead the poems in the marketplace," says Griswold, "not that they authored them."

You sold me to an old man, father.
May God destroy your home, I was your daughter.

Over the past decade, many of the landays have also expressed anger about the U.S.-led war in Afghanistan:

May God destroy the White House and kill the man
who sent U.S. cruise missiles to burn my homeland.

Others are filled with sorrow:

In battle, there should be two brothers:
One to be martyred, one to wind the shroud of the other.

Collecting the poems wasn't easy. Griswold had to essentially go "under cover," wearing a burka and meeting women in secret locations. And photographer Murphy was never able to accompany her. "It was impossible for him as a man to witness women or singing the landay. The women would be killed if they were found out," says Griswold.

Mother, come to the jailhouse windows.
Talk to me before I go to the gallows.

Although the tradition of landay poetry goes back centuries, they are kept very up-to-date with modern references. While the river was typically the place where men could interact with women who were gathering water, this landay mentions the way men and women now meet (at least in other countries).

Daughter, in America the river isn't wet.
Young girls learn to fill their jugs on the internet.

Griswold had worried that these modern terms would mean the death of the landay, but was assured by one of Afghanistan's leading novelists that just the opposite was happening.

"They are being traded and changed and remixed like rap music. People love them," said Griswold. "The landay is supposed to communicate, in the most natural language, the truth of Afghan life. So I found my assumptions about the death of the landay being absolutely confounded by what Afghans said themselves."

How much simpler can love be?
Let's get engaged now. Text me.

Weekly Poem: 'From the Grandiloquent Dictionary'

Mike Melia — Mon, 17 Jun 2013 14:45:20 -0500

By Hailey Leithauser

Judder

When Junk gives a shudder, like a tractor
more quaint than intact, like lapsed reactors,
pipes worn and contorted, a Toyota
that's done for, or outdated aorta.

Katzenjammer

Think of the yowl of three senile felines.
Think of a buzz saw's black, sauerkraut whine.
Imagine ten screeched, unleashed violins.
Imagine the dawn that follows the gin.

Metrophobia

I, too dislike it, or at least I find
too much of it bromidic and unrhymed,
muffled in a fog of cottony prose,
frightened of shadows or stepping on toes.

Hailey Leithauser's poetry has appeared in the Gettysburg Review, Poetry and in the Best American Poetry and Best New Poets anthologies. Her first book, "Swoop," won the Poetry Foundation's Emily Dickinson First Book Award. That collection will be published in October.

Thursday on the NewsHour: Novelist Walter Mosley

Jeffrey Brown — Thu, 13 Jun 2013 18:50:20 -0500

When last seen, Ezekiel "Easy" Rawlins was driving over a cliff, apparently to his death. Rawlins is the fictional private eye who, in the course of a dozen books, has become one of the best-known, longest-running characters in American literature. His latest adventure is told in the new mystery novel, "Little Green."

Author Walter Mosley has written more than 40 books in a variety of genres and received numerous honors including Pen America's lifetime achievement award.

Thursday on the NewsHour, Jeffrey Brown talks to Rawlins about reviving his most famous character.

For now, watch their extended conversation and hear author Walter Mosley read an excerpt from 'Little Green:

Around the Nation

Arts Desk — Wed, 12 Jun 2013 13:09:00 -0500

Here are five arts and culture videos from PBS and public media partners around the nation.

This song is my song, this song is your song, so why don't you record your own cover? American Masters has paired with PBS and Woody 100 for an interactive documentary about folk singer Woody Guthrie called the This Is Your Land Project. Download sheet music and record yourself singing the iconic But hurry: June 15 is the deadline. For now, enjoy this submission from Zeke Leonard:

The late children's book author Maurice Sendak -- the nation's foremost expert on the charming beastliness of children -- was interviewed in 2009 about his own childhood, and what impressed him about the resiliency of kids. PBS Digital Studios, together with Newsweek and Blank on Blank, offers an animated version of that interview.

"Homegoings," an upcoming documentary on POV that explores the tradition and grace of funerals in an African-American community, inspired a work of contemporary dance by performers from the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company. The documentary debuts on PBS on June 24.

Watch Homegoings: A Dance on PBS. See more from POV.

From Austin, Texas, KLRU's Arts In Context offers short documentaries about artistic creation and process. In a recent episode, they follow young composers competing to have their original works performed by the Austin Symphony Orchestra.

Watch Young Composers on PBS. See more from KLRU.

Some really like the hot fashions made famous by Marilyn Monroe. On a stop in Palm Springs, Calif., Antiques Roadshow appraises the original little black dress worn by the screen siren in one of her most famous roles.

Watch Appraisal: Marilyn Monroe Dress from "Some Like it Hot" on PBS. See more from Antiques Roadshow.

A Bone to Pick With Genocide? Try a Million

Simone Pathe — Tue, 11 Jun 2013 13:49:00 -0500

An installation of handmade bones was laid out on the National Mall to protest genocide. The effort was organized by One Million Bones. Photo by Simone Pathe.

For 48 hours, the grass on the National Mall disappeared underneath a sea of white and grey "bones," a symbolic mass grave on the footsteps of the U.S. Capitol. The One Million Bones project is a public art installation created to protest genocide and raise awareness of ongoing violence in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Sudan, South Sudan, Burma and Somalia.

Installation artist and activist Naomi Natale conceived of the project in 2009 while the violence in Sudan was unfolding. She was reading Philip Gourevitch's well-known recounting of the 1994 Rwandan genocide, "We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families."

"I felt moved to make the reality of what was being described [in the book into] something we in the United States could see," Natale told the PBS NewsHour. One Million Bones embodies what Natale called "the art of the uncomfortable and the inconvenient."

Partnering with poet Susan McAllister in her hometown of Albuquerque, N.M., Natale founded Art of Revolution, a nonprofit dedicated to using art for social change, and began organizing One Million Bones locally. From there, they branched out to New Orleans and began coordinating with 2,000 schools around the country, encouraging teachers to incorporate education about genocide and bone-making workshops into their curriculum.

"Art allows for a connection on an emotional level," says Natale.

Made of clay, plaster, paper and other materials, bones were handmade by people from all 50 states and over 30 countries. Some biodegradable bones were crafted in honor of supporters who donated to One Million Bone's activist partners, including the Enough Project and CARE.

One Million Bones has held smaller installations: 50,000 bones covered a downtown block of Albuquerque in August 2011, and blanketed New Orleans' Congo Square in April 2012.

Their end goal was always to bring a "visible petition" to the National Mall, where volunteers, dressed in white, laid out the bones in 16 sections early Saturday morning.

"We don't know if the bones are male, female, Jew[ish] or Tutsi," said Congolese activist Neema Namadamu, speaking to assembled volunteers and the normal Mall traffic -- joggers and tourists whose curiosity made them pause.

Despite the symbolism and scale of the installation, volunteers were upbeat, hoping their activism would help spur the international community and the U.S. to live up to the mantra "never again."

Former UN envoy to Sudan Dr. Mukesh Kapila reflected on genocide as a crime all humans are capable of committing in his keynote address on Saturday. Despite all the optimism, "there will be more bones," he said.

"This great nation was started by genocide," he reminded the dwindling crowd as the setting sun cast a warm glow on the white of the lawn and the Capitol dome.

As organizers collect the bones and lawmakers return to work, will the installation have had an effect? Natale thinks so. After a day of educational seminars on the Mall, volunteers prepared to "take a bone to Congress" on Monday, having scheduled more than 70 meetings on Capitol Hill.

Hit the Road, Poet Laureate: Trethewey Partners With NewsHour for Second Term

Arts Desk — Mon, 10 Jun 2013 14:48:47 -0500

The Library of Congress reappointed U.S. Poet Laureate Natasha Trethewey to a second term on Monday. Trethewey, 47, is concurrently the Poet Laureate of Mississippi and the author of four collections of poetry, including 2006's "Native Guard," for which she won a Pulitzer Prize. She will begin her new term in September.

Though she is not the first in her position to receive the honor of an extended post, the announcement does have special meaning for us at the PBS NewsHour and our Poetry series in particular.

In search of how poetry lives in communities across the United States, Trethewey will join our own Jeffrey Brown in a series of on-location broadcast reports for the NewsHour. Drawing on the poet's own life experiences, they'll explore, through the framework of poetry, issues that matter to Americans.

In her role as poet laureate, Trethewey spent part of her first year holding "Office Hours" in the Library's poetry room in Washington, being available to the public for conversation. She intends to continue this practice with "Office Hours on the Road."

Trethewey is the Robert W. Woodruff Professor of English and Creative Writing and director of the Creative Writing Program at Emory University. The multi-year laureate has made several appearances on the PBS NewsHour, beginning in 2006 with a trip to her home state of Mississippi to witness the destruction wrought by Hurricane Katrina.

In a 2012 conversation with Jeffrey Brown about her then-new post, Trethewey said she hoped she could "bring a lot of service to the role, rather than simply ceremonial or honorific as it certainly is."

Watch Natasha Trethewey discuss her role as poet laureate:

Find more of our coverage on Natasha Trethewey:

Weekly Poem: Charles Hood Reads 'Skype'

Tom LeGro — Mon, 10 Jun 2013 12:25:16 -0500

By Charles Hood

We are arguing about if there are pets
in Heaven and my partner in the miracle
that is marriage assures me that more people
at any moment on earth are dreaming
than are talking, cooking, making love,
or riding bikes. Than are beating dogs,
doing an ollie off a railing, skutching flax,
tightening a wing nut, fixing the photocopier
with a paperclip, or sailing to Byzantium
with SparkNotes and a highlighter. Than
are blowing on tinder to start a fire. More
are dreaming than tying their shoes after
gym. More people right now are dreaming
than are flying, than are driving their cars,
than are pulling all of the triggers on all
the guns in all of the world. Pulses of joy
and pomegranates fill more dreams than all
the water in all of the Niles rushing over
all the glossy lips to purl into white mist.
There are more dreams than snowflakes,
more dreams than wind, more dreams
than the planets waiting above us for
their turn to come to bed and ravish
the night by kissing the mad circus
horse riders and the drunken pilots
and the dead polar explorers on the
tops of their heads, on their hands,
kissing them right on their wide
mummified sepia mouths.

Charles Hood is the author of "South x South" , winner of the 2012 Hollis Summers Poetry Prize. His previous books include "Bombing Ploesti" and "Rio de Dios" (Red Hen Press). He has been the recipient of a Fulbright fellowship, an Artist in Residency with the Center for Land Use Interpretation and an Artists and Writers grant from the National Science Foundation. He teaches photography and writing at Antelope Valley College, Calif.

One Photographer's Experience Documenting Mentally Ill Inmates

Victoria Fleischer — Fri, 07 Jun 2013 12:13:36 -0500

An inmate on max assault status and 23-hour lock down talks to himself in his cell. Max assault status is issued to inmates who have attacked officers or treatment staff. The inmates have been known to throw a mixture of feces and urine, spit, hit, kick, punch or cut. Photos by Jenn Ackerman.

What happens to someone suffering from mental illness after they commit a crime? Are they treated for their illness during their incarceration? Is their treatment sufficient or will they be sent back to the streets without the necessary help to prevent future damage?

With the mass shootings in Newtown, Conn., Aurora, Colo., and countless others before, the treatment of mental illness has become a highly debated national issue. The conversation has largely been about prevention, treating the mentally ill before they commit a crime. But what happens after the crime is committed? What is the prison system like for the mentally ill and the people responsible for managing them?

Minneapolis photographer Jenn Ackerman set out to find out the answers to these questions. For her project Trapped, she spent months in the Correctional Psychiatric Treatment Unit of the Kentucky State Reformatory to learn about the experiences of the mentally ill confined in the prison system.

According to Ackerman, nearly 25 percent of prisoners in Kentucky suffer from schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and other equally serious mental health problems. Larry Chandler, the warden at the Kentucky State Reformatory in La Grange told Ackermann, "We are the surrogate mental hospitals now."

"I saw them cry. I saw them hit themselves so hard in the head that they bled. I saw them throw their feces at the officers. ...For most of these men, they have been outcasts of society and rarely heard. So they had a chance to share their story and have someone listen that actually cared," Ackerman describes in her artist statement.

Art Beat recently spoke with Ackerman about her experience:

Art Beat: What sparked your interest in this project?

Jenn Ackerman: The project really started when I read an article. I don't remember what the article was about honestly, but there was a sentence that mentioned that there was an increase in the mentally ill in prisons, and so of course that led to questions and to weeks of research and then I had to do this project. People need to understand what's going on and people need to see it and feel it. My belief is that when you feel something you can't forget it and so my approach was to make people feel something from these images in order that they can't forget it. So after weeks of research, I put a proposal together and started contacting prisons in the U.S. that were attempting to meet the needs of the mentally ill.

A man on suicide watch lays without a blanket. "Isolation works in our favor sometimes, but more often than not it works against us," says Dr. Stephanie Roby, psychologist in CPTU.

Art Beat: What was your experience in the prison? What are you trying to make the viewers feel?

I felt sorrow, compassion, and that's what I wanted people to feel. It wasn't that I was scared of these men and I didn't want people to walk away scared; I wanted them to walk away saddened by the fact that these men had ended up in prison. It was a really sad experience for me and one where I felt helpless in a way and that emboldened me more. I need to do this even more than I thought originally. I need to help these men, not necessarily the ones in Kentucky, but the people that are ending up in prison with mental illness. I need to help the situation.

Art Beat: You say in your artist statement that "The system designed for security is now trapped with treating mental illness and the mentally ill are often trapped inside the system with nowhere else to go." What do you mean?

Jenn Ackerman: At first, I went into the prisons with the intention of showing what the inmates were dealing with and then I realized that it's actually two-sided. The prison system is designed to keep people secure within the boundaries of a prison. They're not designed to be a hospital and they now have to do both, which means they are not doing either really well. They are not getting as much funding as they would need in order to treat these men and they don't have the capacity to do so. They're correctional officers, not nurses; they are not there to treat the inmates, but that's what they are learning. They have to be trained to help treat people with mental illness.

Correctional officers clean the room of an inmate, searching for possible weapons, after the inmate cut himself with a spork earlier that morning.

On the other side of the equation, a lot of the men that I met received treatment before they ended up in prison. I would say 97-98 percent had already received treatment, which was not very successful at the time. They would be put into a hospital setting, but at the time they would only be able to stay in a psychiatric treatment facility for 72 hours. With someone with mental illness, that is definitely not enough to maintain their meds and get them stabilized, so they often went back on the streets and got off the meds. Some of these men did some pretty heinous things, but often they were just delinquents. They would steal something at a convenience store and then they would be put into jail overnight and they wouldn't understand what was going on and they would hit an officer and that would get them into the system. Once they get into the prison system, it's really hard for them to get out because a lot of them are not aware of what was going on, they don't understand the rules. A lot of these men were not able to follow the rules of society and now to follow the rules of the prison system is really difficult.

The men in CPTU are a fading memory for many. The mentally ill often get trapped int he system with nowhere else to go. Here, a man stands in the middle of his room for most of the day staring at the 4 walls surrounding him.

Art Beat: What about the correctional officers? Can you speak about their experience?

Jenn Ackerman: It's not an easy job for them. I saw the level of compassion that they needed, the level of trust that they had to have with these men, who are very volatile. They are a very volatile community of inmates and the officers really cared and that really surprised me. The first day that I was there, I saw them do a cell entry, which means they broke down the door, handcuffed an inmate, and strapped him in a chair. I was so taken back and upset by the situation and I was so frustrated with the officers because I was like, "What are you doing? Why are you hurting them?" That afternoon, they explained to me, "Look, Jenn, he was trying to commit suicide. He had been trying to hurt himself all day." I realized at that moment that they have such a tricky position to play because they are not only trying to keep them secure, they are really trying to keep them from hurting themselves. If that means being hit on and spit on, then they are willing to take that. It definitely takes a certain type of individual; not every correctional officer can handle that level of compassion day after day after day. There is a high level of turnover in that unit for that reason alone. It takes a lot of patience and humor to get through that and not every officer comes into a prison expecting to have that kind of job and need those kinds of traits.

An inmate is cuffed and returned to his cell after acting out earlier that day. A spit mask is used to prevent him from spitting at the doctors and correctional officers. "Our priority is security. That mandates that we have certain security measures that cant be breached. But security can't be a stranglehold on progress," says Larry Chandler, warden of Kentucky State Reformatory.

Art Beat: How did you gain the access and trust you needed to tell this story?

Jenn Ackerman: One of the things I really strive for is access and trust in all of my projects, no matter what. I realized that in order for me to be the photographer that I am, I have to have that. That's what I told the warden. He was an amazing component to this. He believed in educating the public and at the time, his prison was really struggling with what to do with this population. When I first approached him, I gave him my spiel and told him I needed that level of access and asked him if he was willing to do that and I just put it out on the table and told him exactly what I needed and what I was planning to do. He believed in the story and he believed that people needed to know about a population that is rarely talked about in prison.

The officers restrained an inmate after he banged his fist and head on his cell door for six hours and threatening to kill himself.

The inmates were skeptical of course of someone coming with a camera. But after days of talking to them and explaining my intention and showing them that I was willing to put down my camera and the questions I was asking them -- I wasn't really asking them about their crime and I think that also helped. I didn't really think it was necessary to the story and I think that showed them that I really did care about their condition in prison and their experience of mental illness. That's pretty much all I asked them, "what are you experiencing, do you hear voices, tell me about what goes on through your mind during the day?" Those kinds of questions. I think that helped to reinforce the story that I was really trying to tell and I think over time, everybody within that prison, including the doctors and the correctional officers, knew that this is a story that no one really talked about and they were really willing to talk to me about it.

To see more of Jenn Ackermann's photographs, view the slideshow below:

The Daily Frame

Tom LeGro — Fri, 07 Jun 2013 11:45:08 -0500

Click to enlarge.

Visitors gather on artist Ryoji Ikeda's "Test Pattern," an installation featuring sound and light components, during the VIVID Sydney festival in Australia. Photo by Saeed Khan/AFP/Getty Images.

Around the Nation

Tom LeGro — Wed, 05 Jun 2013 10:48:19 -0500

Here are four arts and culture videos from public media partners around the nation.

From NPR: "OK Go: A Tiny Desk Concert In 223 Takes":
"We needed to figure out the best possible way to move NPR Music's Tiny Desk from our old headquarters to our new facility just north of the U.S. Capitol. So we had OK Go perform "All Is Not Lost" hundreds of times, as we transported the Tiny Desk from one home to the other."

From the new Alaska Public Media series Indie Alaska: "I Am An Ice Diver":
"Bill Streever is an author, biologist and avid adventurer. He is also a life-long diver. In this edition of INDIE ALASKA we follow the intrepid diver under the ice of Summit Lake, in the heart of the Chugach National Forest, for a view that few Alaskans ever see. INDIE ALASKA is an original video series produced by Alaska Public Media in partnership with PBS Digital Studios."

Watch I Am An Ice Diver on PBS. See more from Indie Alaska.

A new season of documentaries is coming to POV starting June 24. Here's a preview of one:
"Herman Wallace has spent more than 40 years in a 6' x 9' prison cell. He works with artist Jackie Sumell to imagine his 'dream home,' questioning justice and punishment in America."

Watch Herman's House - Trailer on PBS. See more from POV.

NYC-ARTS visits the New-York Historical Society for a tour of the Audubon Collection. "The museum is the permanent home to all 474 of his watercolors related to artist John James Audubon's work, 'The Birds of America.' The New-York Historical Society will unveil their collection in the continuing exhibition 'Audubon's Aviary: The Complete Flock' through 2015."

Watch Curator's Choice: Audubon Collection on PBS. See more from NYC-ARTS.

The Daily Frame

Tom LeGro — Wed, 05 Jun 2013 09:49:33 -0500

Click to enlarge.

A Turkish art group performs in support of protestors Wednesday at Taksim Square in Istanbul. Protests, which initially began over the fate of Taksim Gezi Park, one of the last significant green spaces in the center of the city, have turned increasingly violent as police began cracking down hard on demonstrators. Photo by Uriel Sinai/Getty Images.

The Tuesday Cutline...a Winner!

Colleen Shalby — Tue, 04 Jun 2013 12:46:13 -0500

It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, isn't it? Before we get to this week's Tuesday Cutline winner, here's the original caption to Attila Kisbenedek's/AFP's/Getty Images's photo:

"A young girl rests in a cage as her dogs stand on top of it, waiting for their competition during the World Dog Show in Hungexpo area of Budapest on May 16, 2013. About 17 000 dogs are designated for the world competition from more than 70 countries."

It was "ruff" choosing a winner this week. Most of you implied that these canines were fed up with authority or in cahoots to take over the world. But our winner asked an unanswered age-old question. Congrats Joan Harris! You'll be winning a mug for your caption:

"Who let the dogs out?"

Who indeed? Thanks for playing along everyone. Join us next week for another Tuesday Cutline!

About the Tuesday Cutline: Every other Tuesday, we post a photo. You compose a witty/ funny/ creative caption, submit it by Friday at 5 p.m. ET in the comments section or on the NewsHour's or Art Beat's pages. The following Tuesday we pick one winner. Everyone celebrates.

The Daily Frame

Tom LeGro — Tue, 04 Jun 2013 09:04:58 -0500

Click to enlarge.

Models pose in a tableaux vivant, or 'living picture," of Frederic S. Remington's "A Dash for the Timber" during the 81st annual Festival of the Arts Pageant of the Masters in Laguna Beach, Calif. The event features works of art recreated by real people through costumes, makeup, lighting, props and backdrops. Photo by Joe Klamar/AFP/Getty Images.

Billy Bragg, the Sherpa of Heartbreak

Ray Suarez — Mon, 03 Jun 2013 15:08:55 -0500

Billy Bragg's latest album, "Tooth & Nail," is heavily influenced by the Americana country sound. "We Brits have always had a huge appreciation for American roots music." Video edited by Joshua Barajas.

For a guy from England, musician Billy Bragg keeps a close and informed eye on America. He follows its politics, its music and, for better or worse, its eating habits, namely its obsession with bacon. He recounted how his tour bus passed a truck stop restaurant in Black River Falls, Wis., and there in the window, a banner offering maple bacon milkshakes. "It seemed to me to sum up America, which imagines that it can have everything if it wants it, whether it's a good idea or not," he said.

We sat on the bus in a hotel parking lot late in his U.s and Canada tour and talked about his latest recording, "Tooth & Nail." He reflected, with relief, on leaving the "record" business to put more emphasis on the "music" business. He produced "Tooth & Nail" and released it himself, a very different proposition from working with a record label, as the fractured and frantic business of recording and selling music struggles to cope with technological change.

For Bragg, there's a big difference between the record business and the music business. "The music industry's thriving. People want to go on gigs. Digital music is made, people want you to go out on gigs. The record industry hasn't really come to terms with the digital business model. You know they still try to bring in analog ways of doing things, which don't really make sense anymore," he said.

It's hard to know whether a big label would have ordered up "Tooth & Nail." It's a quiet collection of deeply personal, reflective and heavily country music-infused songs. As Bragg has done since his earliest days bashing out punky rock and roll, his concerns and curiosities range widely from the silence around the kitchen table as a love affair runs out of steam to the biggest questions of exploring space, a warming planet and understanding the secrets of physics. In one song, he wryly tells his wife he'll never be the handyman his own father way, and moments later he laments a world drowning in information that leaves us as confused as ever.

Listening to the album the whole way through for the first time, I was especially struck by Bragg's cover of Woody Guthrie's classic "I Ain't Got No Home." In Guthrie's own rendition, and in many subsequent covers, the lament of a man on the verge of being crushed by the Great Depression is up-tempo, an almost rollicking tune that reassures the listener that despite the lyric, our narrator is down but not out. The new Bragg version was a revelation, if only because the song's concerns seemed so fresh in an age when so many have worked so hard for so long to end up with so little.

"It is so contemporary now. 'I've mined in your mines, I've gathered in your corn, I've been working since the day I was born, now I worry all the time like I never did before.' I mean, for our generation, that's an incredibly stark reality," Bragg said. "We've always believed that we would have a better life than our children, and our children would have a better life than us. It looks like that's not going to come true now. It looks like our children are perhaps going to be poorer than us and not going to have the same outcome as we're going to have."

This year, Bragg turns 56. He still loves the road. Still loves the gigs. He says he can still imagine doing it all, sleeping on the bus, waking up in another city the next morning to play before another audience for a long time to come. But, he says, now he has to pace himself. Bragg remembers the veteran musician Steve Earle telling him back in the '80s that he would die on one of these buses. "I thought to myself, no! But you know, here I am. After 30 years of touring in the United States of America, I finally got me own big ol' bus and trailer, and maybe Steve was right. Maybe we will keep doing this 'til we peg out, which will be great if I could count on doing it because I love doing it," he said.

You could listen to "Tooth & Nail" and include it in a long arc with Bragg's music going back more than 30 years, and watch the evolution of a musician with a passion for politics who also writes a damn good love song. Or maybe you have never laid eyes, or ears, on Bragg until this moment and just listen out of curiosity. Both approaches have their reward.

The North American tour is over and Bragg is back in England, posting on Facebook and sending tweets about the horrifying killing of a British soldier in a London suburb and the anti-Muslim backlash that followed. He never did try the maple bacon milkshake. He chose to simply admire it instead.

Weekly Poem: Charles Hood Reads 'FSA'

Tom LeGro — Mon, 03 Jun 2013 14:56:12 -0500

By Charles Hood

I share a room with an ice climber and somebody
from NASA. Their socks want to be with mine

and I say no, no, and kick them savagely. A woman
from Minneapolis sentences her soot brindle sweater

to solitary confinement inside the dorm dryer, sets it on a cold cycle
for three days. So much for the rest of us. I have brought ten flutters

of Bounce in a quart Ziplock but when NASA pajamas asks,
I say I am out. Until the down-the-hall girls finish, no point

anyway. I hide the Ziplock between the pages of a book.
I am sure they had Wal-Mart and Target in his town

and he always forgets to lock the door.

Ben Shahn the FSA photographer swore it is true because he was there: farmer was being rejected for a Dust Bowl loan. Something out of Grapes of Wrath, and things are grim but not decided yet either way. Farmer pleads. Banker says, here's a sporting offer old timer. If you can guess which one of my eyes is a glass one, you can have your loan. The farmer doesn't hesitate. "The left one." And of course he's right--the banker says, holy Joe, how did you know? Farmer, it's the one that looked the kindest.

Charles Hood is the author of "South x South" , winner of the 2012 Hollis Summers Poetry Prize. His previous books include "Bombing Ploesti" and "Rio de Dios" (Red Hen Press). He has been the recipient of a Fulbright fellowship, an Artist in Residency with the Center for Land Use Interpretation, and an Artists and Writers grant from the National Science Foundation. He teaches photography and writing at Antelope Valley College, Calif.