Word: patchen
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...tremolos in the strings punctuated by over-orchestrated fortissimo chords, one gathers that Mr. Cutler's concept of death is merely a scary mood, not unlike the effect of the most terrifying sections of a horror movie. The pseudo-meaningful verses by that overrated American poet, Kenneth Patchen, do not help the listener in his attempt to grasp the unprofound programmatic idea that Mr. Cutler seems to have had in mind. Yet, in spite of this immature approach to the subject that Mr. Cutler chose to pursue, the last two sections show that he has a fine control...
...these "Limericks," Patchen writes of little men with wooden hair, playful street-cars, forgetful commuters, and a man two inches shorter than himself--all of them good, very good...
...undergraduate's Chino criticism might suggest, however, that Patchen shows us why much of the poetry written by the "Beat" boys of North Beach isn't so very successful. It's very hard to say America stinks more than once; maybe, if you're good at stringing words together, you can say it twice. But if you want to fill a volume of poetry you have to start thinking about why America stinks. The humor of Patchen indicates a great deal of talent; one could wish he'd forget his sophomoric, tragically bombastic approach to America and look around...
...best characteristics of written Patchen is his vitality, one of the worst features of spoken Patchen is his boredom. It's surprising because before hearing him read you'd think he was jumping all over the place while writing his stuff. The choice of poems on the record is a good one, largely because he leans on the chuckle-chuckle side and forgets this country's inevitable American woe. All of the "Limericks" are included, and they sound just as good, and maybe better, than they read...
...Patchen backed by jazz is something else. The jazzmen, led by Allyn Ferguson (who wrote the note on the jacket and was considerate enough to quote himself at one point), seem competent enough, but the effect of the two working on each other destroys more than it gives. Words blot out the music, and, as they say, vice versa. Patchen claims to have thought up jazz and poetry, love and marriage. Kenneth Rexroth, across the street and down the hill, claims the same thing. They both would do well to forget the unhappy, er, nuptuals...