Harry Northup: California Poets Part 4, Four Poems

Harry Northup (photo by Alexis Rhone Fancher)

December 29th, 2021

California Poets: Part IV

Harry Northup

Four Poems

Boat Nearby If I were to tell a simple story It would be light, love, forgetfulness Light a place to find love A place where forgetfulness reigns Where new friends are made daily Where meanness, competition, gossip Fall by the wayside A light in love for travelers An actual caring for the other If I were to tell a complex story It would include death, superiority Among those walking slowly Would be speedsters, lost ones If I were to be moonlight on a river Grace, quietude, stillness would reign To cross the river would be a bridge With no doors, no arms to hold For each reason has an allowance Each light has a location Each light asks not for recognition If I were to tell a simple story Let the love be light near a bridge A place to live in harmony with water 11 26 17

the ache my wife is my love still & ever after meeting her 22 years ago at papa bach after calling her on the phone & saying "you are lovely" after taking her, with my son, a dozen red roses trembling to touch her under the eucalyptus trees her body white as emotion we made love on russell avenue, in a second story room with a breeze running through the palm trees, the open window, the beaded curtain we made love in denver, grand rapids, east & west hollywood, in a cabin in big sur we married 9 years ago her breasts are water by the river until it all dissolves in her 10 2 99

last day in july a statue of buddha, with yellow flowers in a vase, in front -- white l.a. dodgers cap -- blue l.a. dodgers cap -- white panama hat -- photo of holly & me on our wedding day, cat buddha, photo of mother & daddy, the big picture: 250 l.a. poets in front of beyond baroque photo by l.a. times photographer mark savage, front page "metro" section: holly & i standing in front row -- brown couch, love seat, 2 rocking chairs, 40 biographies -- photo of holly's grandmother, mirror harry's notebook, holly's journal -- l.a. home (east hollywood) -- brown curtains -- 150 watt light bulbs -- large male cat sleeps on other end of couch -- l.a. where holly & i, both from nebraska, met in the poetry world, went together, fell in love, married, grew old; l.a. where i made a living as an actor; where holly taught high school, now teaches in our home; l.a. where we formed with 4 fellow poets, cahuenga press, 20 years ago; l.a. where our friends: actors, poets, teachers, li- brarians, film & tv directors, live; l.a. where my son dylan was born; la. where we eat chinese food at hop li, steak at taylor's, buy fresh fish at farmers market; l.a. where we see the dodgers play at chavez ravine, where i watch the lakers play every game on tv; where holly & i have been active in the poetry community for 40 years; l.a: observatory, skylight books, griffith park, fountain avenue, silver spoon, t'ai chi, camaraderie of actors; bless our home our city, our origin in nebraska, our love & residence in l.a.

THE JOHN FORD CHAPEL

No roses on bushes outside chapel

A simple, almost New

England place

Three stained glass windows

floor to ceiling

Ten wooden pews with long,

Beige pillows tied at one end

Blue carpet, a place to pray

I pray for continuity,

breath, line, devotion

I pray for understanding

to learn to forgive those hungry,

ambitious souls who see not others

I pray for the health of my neighbors

I give thanks for their generous spirits

I pray to be a good person

& not offend others

I pray to departed love

& the chapel bells startle me

eleven times

I ask to recognize times

to see others in a more human array

I pray for forgiveness

for my limited vision

I pray to see the white wings

in sunshine which hold both death & love

Harry E. Northup

Interview II

May 7th, 2024

California Poets Interview Series:

Harry Northup, Actor and Poet

interviewed by David Garyan

DG: Let’s begin with Harry’s Poetry Hour (HPH), which will soon have its 200th show this May. How did it all start?

HN: When Covid hit in March of 2020, all gatherings and activities at MPTF (Motion Picture and Television Fund), in Woodland Hills, California, were cancelled. Jennifer Clymer, Director MPTF Studios, encouraged me to do a poetry show every week on Zoom. It would also be streamed live on an on-campus TV channel to the residents and staff's TV screens. I said, "I will do the best I can. Most of our books were destroyed in an electrical fire that displaced us. I don't have many poetry books, but I will see what I can do." The first poetry show was on Tuesday, March 31, 2020, 1-2 PM PST. Brett Hadley, actor and MPTF resident and I read from the Complete Poems of Robert Frost.

DG: Apart from the illustrious guests who’ve read their own work, the show is also devoted to reading poems by Robert Frost, Anna Akhmatova, Horace, Lao Tzu, and others. Is there an additional element of discovery when you read verse out loud, live, and to what extent does this influence your own writing?

HN: In times of sorrow and upheaval, I have gone to poetry for wisdom and companionship. These days I am reading Wordsworth's The Prelude ... a 220-page long poem, out loud. The cadence and the content give me comfort. I usually read for 15-20 minutes out loud. When you read poetry that way, you focus on each word, you slow down. It hits the ear. You hear the music. It strengthens your own narrative. Poetry is where I go for wisdom, learning, sanity, harmony.

I have recited and listened to the magnificent MPTF actors read the poetry of Frost, Horace, Akhmatova: Frost writes in his "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening": "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, / But I have promises to keep, / And miles to go before I sleep / And miles to go before I sleep." Horace ends "To Maecenas," "But if you say I am truly among the poets, // Then my exalted head will knock against the stars." Anna Akhmatova wrote in "Death of a Poet": "And all the flowers that grow only in this world / Came into bloom to meet his death." Each poet supplies different music and subject matter, but when you read poetry out loud, you slow down, get into the syntax, pick up the narrative, and this way the words grow deeper into your psyche—you feel the emotions and remember the lines and poems more. Obviously, when you read great poetry, it gives you wisdom and pleasure. Before I sit down to write, I always fare better reading poetry instead of prose. Also, on HPH, listening to the poets and actors read, you really pay attention to the work—you hear it and it becomes a communal thing. Poetry reveals the humanity in each of us. Our hearts and minds are raised, refreshed. We are all together, listening, hearing the varied, beautiful voices bringing their own interpretations of the poems.

DG: It seems the art of listening has become a lost art. People are eager to speak, to perform, to move, but few have the time to remain still and listen. Rarely do poets get to experience the craft in such an intimate way as you have on HPH. Has this had a big or small impact on the way you’ve perceived rhythm, word placement, and the poetic line general?

HN: One of the main things in acting is listening; the same is true in poetry; it's speaking and listening to one another. To me, the subject of HPH is the poetry. There's something sacred about the words. We concentrate on each other’s work. We create harmony, communion, time out of time, living right there in the present—the here and now. All of it has its own value. Listening to others' poetry has benefited me, nourished me, lifted me. HPH is an exhilarating experience. Often, I'm so full of energy, I walk for a mile after the show. Every great poem has affected me with its language, meaning, rhythm, use of space and time. It's the simple, human action of giving into the words, all as they slow down the instant. We do really listen to one another.

Kay Weissman, actor, MPTF resident, who has read poetry many times on the show said, "It's taken me a long time to understand that it's the poets' words that are important, not the performance."  

DG: What’s the most rewarding aspect of organizing the show and what’s the most challenging?

HN: To have a poetry show in the Motion Picture Country Home is truly amazing. I will always be grateful to Jennifer Clymer and Bob Beitcher CEO/President, MPTF, for their love and support of the show, and their participation in it. Bob, erudite in poetry, has initiated and appeared on many of the shows. Jennifer has read the poetry of others and also one of her own poems; in addition, she has sung on the program. I love her singing. As a director, she's brilliant and protective. The rewarding part is having actors—some in their mid-90s—and singers, who are MPTF residents: Corinne Conley, Helen Richman, Kay Weissman, Ruthie Elliott, John Towey, Guerin Barry, participate. They immerse themselves in the poems and bring them to life. Lawrence Turman, producer of over 40 films, including "The Graduate," who lived here, said to me once about HPH (he appeared on it three times and gave a fabulous reading of Poe's "Anabelle Lee," on a Valentine's Day reading in 2023): "You are not the most famous person here, you are not the most successful, but you have the best attitude, you are doing what you love and you are getting people in the community involved."

The poets from outside who have appeared on the show, D.A. Powell, Ellen Bass, Phoebe McAdams, Jack Hirschman, Ed Friedman, Beth Ruscio, Bill Mohr, James Cushing, S.A. Griffin, Gail Wronsky, Paul Vangelisti, Pam Ward, Ellen Karina Byrne, Maurya Simon, Pam Ward, Susan Hayden, Marsha De la O, Jim Daniels, Michael Lally, Sarah Maclay, Jeanette Clough, Michael C Ford, among others, are some of the best poets in America. They teach me. I learn. They broaden and deepen my understanding of poetry and enlarge my spirituality. They honor and delight us with their illuminating poems. One time Bobbi Roberts, an MPTF resident who made her living as a make-up artist in movies and TV, walked up to me and said: "I never knew much, or cared about poetry, until I saw your show. I have learned to appreciate poetry more. A year later she said: "I love the Poetry Hour."

I love handling the curatorial details, doing the research, dealing with the ones on camera and behind it. But really the simple act of doing the show is its own reward. The poets, readers, directors, crew—we are all co-creators of it. I want to thank the following who give HPH its outstanding production values: Director and Executive Producer Jennifer Clymer and MPTF Studios' Creative Chaos Crew and staff: Jennifer Biederman, Jennifer Esquivel, Michael Caiozzo, Kak Lee, Allegra Leedom, Jeff Mercer, Maryjane Miller, Marcus Murrietta, Jody Schoffner, Joe Schroeder, and Paige Thompson. One of my favorite lines in The Bhagavad Gita are: "I am not stained by actions— / I do not yearn for their fruit." I find an inherent goodness in doing the show.

The challenging thing is that I have learned the tradition and know that there is so much more poetry that I do not know, and I feel ignorant. But, I study, do research, learn. I have always loved learning.

Another thing that relates to poetry and HPH is that at age 83, I wake up at 4 AM every day after going to bed at 9 PM. Many times I want to stay in bed, nice and warm, but words and images come to me; intros, research, along with other work always needs to be done and I get up.

(A recent picture of Harry)

Poetry is an inner calling, but also an outer pursuit. It spurs me, wakes me, delights me. I find warmth and solace in it. I am grateful for the art and for the opportunity to do the one-hour, weekly show.

Here's a recent poem of mine written about HPH, on 4-9-24:

For the Poetry Hour

I am deeply grateful to do

The Poetry Hour every Tuesday

It's a sacred place where we

Read our own & others' poetry

Where we listen to each other

Where we create harmony

Where I try to give each participant

Equal time & space

A place of quietness, eloquence

A place of kindness, affirmation

Emotional, yes

A blessing, indeed

A gift, yes

Cooperation, yes

Gratefulness & hard work

Grace, courage, study, execution

The wind blew a leaf off the sidewalk

On this sunny, blue sky day

A day I rise for poetry

DG: Let’s move to your latest project, Love Poem To MPTF. In our last interview, you mentioned that if you could only write one book, this would be it. To what extent did the writing process for this collection differ from the other books you’ve written?

HN: Love Poem To MPTF (Cahuenga Press, 2020), takes place over a 2-year period from July 20, 2017 to June 14, 2019, from being displaced by an electrical fire to living in a motel on Sunset Boulevard, just west of Western Avenue—all this for 22 nights; from there it goes to living in a large room in our friends' home (Phoebe MacAdams and Ron Ozuna) for 45 days, and finally to MPTF. It has an ending I never thought I would write. I love all of my 12 books of poetry. Enough the Great Running Chapel (Momentum Press, 1982), may be my best book, but Love Poem To MPTF is right up there with it, also Where Bodies Again Recline (Cahuenga Press, 201), a visionary collection that was supported by the Muse—each and every way—is also right up there. Though I believe in personal writing, I feel that in both Chapel and Love Poem there is a transcendence of the personal. 

To be helped by friends, poets, family, actors, writers, director, artists is what I mean; to be given a home in the Motion Picture Country Home where the staff are loving, helpful, and caring, are acts of grace and generosity—at a time when we needed it most. The book is a collection of gratefulness, a love of helping my wife, Holly, and a love for MPTF, for their legacy of giving that has lasted more than 103 years. Mary Pickford, one of its founders, wrote: "We see a need and we fill it." MPTF has helped thousands and thousands of people in need—both those who’ve worked in front of the camera and also behind it. I am a recipient, as my late wife was, of MPTF's help. Below is a short video that celebrates MPTF's 100-year anniversary.

And here are some of my poems from Love Poem To MPTF: 

Room with Two Poets

We are in Room 101 at the Dunes Inn -- Sunset

Holly's walker & cane are to the right of the door

Then three pairs of my shoes

Two Dodgers caps on one pair

A new pair of Holly's navy pants on another pair

Tomorrow, I'll take her pants to be hemmed

I will take clothes of mine that reek

Of smoke from the fire to the cleaners

This is our second night here

Early this morning I walked east

On Sunset to get us coffee from Starbucks

A crescent moon above

A homeless Hispanic crossed Sunset

Heading back with our coffee

I passed a sleeping man in a nook

He was covered with a mint green blanket

An American Red Cross white blanket covers me

7  20  17

With Saintliness

With sainted water

With faraway canoe

With tremulous care

With sainted oars

With sainted light

With joy saintliness

With focused centre

With sainted arrows

With sainted circle

With sainted closing

With joining light

With saving hand

With sainted blemish

With circumference blue

With climbing saintliness

With joy eliminated

With saintliness diffused

With sainted hope

With closing hand

With sainted mouth

With joining hearts

With shining road

With long gone cascade

With sainted sound With sainted search

With saintly doom

With connected light

With sainted substance

With light flowing down

8  17  17

Night Light

What is a life but a home & a wife?

What is a home but a son & a book?

What is a book but a poem & a picture?

What is a friend but one who helps?

What is a friend but a window & a door?

What door looks within?

What window takes one away from looking within?

What is a wife but a window within?

What is a night but a place to write?

What is a writer but one who looks within?

What is within but a place to be alone?

To be alone with words with little light.

To be in little light & still see words.

Words are a home.

Words create a home.

A home has light within.

A light that does not gossip.

A word within light bestows home.

What is a home without light?

What is light without words?

What words within bring peace?

What is home but light & love?

8  26  17

The Great Trees

First, he learned pear tree, magnolia, jacaranda

Then sycamore, tecoma, pistachio & oak

The sky changed often behind the trees

Often, it was blue, lately brooding

He picked their leaves, fruit

Twirled them, took them home, photographed them

The oak was old, needed supports to hold it up

The flowers were few, the trees many

He wanted to learn the names of the trees

Before he, too, was pruned

3  14  18

Holiness That Never Exists

To be in a holiness that never exists

Except in prayer, asking for help,

Giving thanks, feeling broken

To be in a holiness that never exists

Except in touching my wife's body,

Greeting my neighbors, loving my son

To be in a holiness that never exists

Except in smelling a freshly cut rose,

Seeing a rabbit sit still, a squirrel, lizard

To be in a holiness that never exists

Except in speaking an epic's words out

Loud, seeing a circle, a square, a door

To be in a holiness that never exists

Except in being rescued by a friend,

Given a home in the Motion Picture &

Television Fund

To be in a holiness that never exists

Except in admitting betrayal, vulnerability,

Grace, desire, hurt, hands, grief, home

4  28  18

Breath & Grace

For whomsoever has breath has deity

For whomsoever has deity has goodness

For whomsoever has goodness has worth

For worth has belief

For goodness balances badness

For goodness is personal

For whomsoever writes has breath

For all breath is grace

For grace is given & giving

For belief behests benevolence

For benevolence benefits belief

For whomsoever lives has grace

For grace is not kingly nor queenly

For grace itself is not mystery

Its origin is mystery though

For priests, presidents cannot give breath

For line of poetry being breath

Breath, grace, divine common thing

5  1  18

Each Night Trees Talk To Me

Each night the trees talk to me

They come to me with graves

Heralding laughter, sorrow,

Longevity, briefness, care, love

They walk the shades, sheltering

Squirrels, flowers, fences, tables,

Chairs for the film editors, actors,

Publicists, directors, sound editors

Trees talk to me of durability,

Heat & shadow, resilient beauty

Trees talk to me not of new cars,

Cosmetics, hedonism, egoists

Trees talk dance, shadows, shelter,

Strength, girth, irregular shapes,

Branches cut off, branches ever

Which way, leaves, bareness

Trees talk position, growth upward,

Downward; trees talk longevity

5  5  18

My wife's socks

Two pairs are laid on two up raised

pillows, with white pillow cases

One pair is light pink with white toes,

heels & tops

The other medium pink

They are somehow a prayer

& a symbol of warmth through out

the night

which makes them not symbolic

but a vessel of carrying,

keeping out the cold

which in a way is a prayer

My wife loves socks

Where I sleep naked

she sleeps bundled up

We live in The Villa in

the Motion Picture and Television Fund

Before she goes to bed

she takes off the socks she's wearing

puts on the two pairs of socks

from the pillow

When she's done that

she gets into bed & I lift

the sheets & blankets

pull them up to her  chin

We kiss, "I love you," I say

"I love you with all my heart," she replies

She goes to sleep

10  30  18

Love Poem To MPTF

Sitting in The Roddy McDowall Rose

Garden, I see a bubbling pool

Sunlight on benches

Tree with red leaves

Circles, statues, plaques,

Roses of many colors surround me

If there is a place more peaceful

On earth, I don't know it

More cooperative, helpful,

Harmonious, I am unaware

Greenery, lit paths, hands like

Waterfalls reach out to help

Hands like pillows protect a fall

Within white roses a found home

11  25  18

I Will Find You

I will find you behind a tree

I will find you in a bouquet of flowers

I will find you in a cup of coffee

In a book of pastoral poetry

In an absent love

In a sorrowful friend

In a narcissistic friend

I will find you in an evening sunset

In a shady nook where I practiced cornet

In a friend with a terminal illness

In a home without a wife

In a wife who's coming home

I will find you in a leafless sycamore

In a rabbit, squirrel, hawk, egret

I will find you in a journey home

In a friend's compassion

At a table with a poetry book

I will find you in a photo, an email reply

In a forgiving heart

In a gracious, generous act

I will find you within

3  4  19

2:35 A.M.

Between the night & the dawn

Are words of gratitude, praise,

Thankfulness to friends, residents,

Staff, at MPTF, for their care & support

Between the morning & night

Are hellos, nice day, good to see you

Kindness in hallways, dining room

A willingness to help ever present

Safety, love -- may I call it love

When bad memory disposes names

Within seconds, returns to personal history;

Mixes casts' names with film titles

When the doom of dementia, a fall,

Alzheimer's, death, is ever present

One out, one in, the saying goes

Oasis, the last stop, cocoon

Call it what you like

A safe, quiet beautiful home among nature

Small miracles brought us here

My wife says

She sleeps peacefully

4  1  19

1:22 A.M.

I heard her breathe

I watched her breathe

She breathed Allen Ginsberg's "Sunflower Sutra"

She breathed Wallace Stevens Collected Poems

She breathed top deck Dodgers Stadium behind home plate

She breathed recipe for yeast

She breathed farm wives baking loaves of bread

She breathed writing in her journal

She breathed Echo Park hills

I heard her breathe prose poems

I heard her breathe asymmetrical rhythms

I saw her breathe her last breath

I hear it now

6  14  19

DG: What are you reading and working on at the moment?

HN: Here's a poem, written on 9-14-23, from a new manuscript, An Answer, that I just completed:

An Answer (For Ruth Elliott)

A woman, who lives in a cottage

has taken me from sorrow & grief

to love & joy

She has stayed with me nights

Her hands, body, spirit, have awakened

my body, my spirit, to feel her within,

without, even when she's gone home

A mother of seven, a receiver of visions

We eat together, walk, go to movies

Laughter ever present, she's

a marvelous story-teller, a body

clean & white & smooth

In my ninth decade, I've been given

love in a bounteous way

She has told me of her children

& I have met one

A woman who loves me, whom I love

Grace, divinity, a gift never expected

She's not only the answer to a prayer

but a prayer, indeed, a woman love

Interview

October 3rd, 2021

California Poets Interview Series:

Harry Northup, Actor and Poet

interviewed by David Garyan

DG: Not many can say they’ve had the privilege of finding renown in two different artistic fields—for you that has been acting and poetry. Usually, we conceive of the former as bringing the voices of others to life, while the latter is seen as a quest to find your own voice, and then express it. Is the matter really that simple, however? In other words, how has poetry informed not only your work as an actor and vice versa, but also, how are they, generally, closer than we may initially think?

HN: In poetry you learn how to make good use of time and space. Films are very expensive and they go down fast, so you have to be prepared, know what you are going to do in that frame. Poetry gives you confidence—the making of a poem, the focus of craft, finding value in the craft. It’s not really a matter of informing but the doing. Writing poetry, to me, is like breathing, walking; I just do it all the time and have been for over fifty years.

In Method acting you learn how to evoke memories with sense memories, emotional memories—your body is your “instrument.” You learn to use your experiences, your memories to evoke emotions, to create belief in the role, belief in yourself; you’re the character.

Acting and poetry are two disparate fields. In acting you can explore, let your emotions go; in poetry you have to learn the tradition, know the craft by practicing it daily, being receptive. Holly once said that the actors are extroverts and the poets are introverts.

In Method acting, you chose an emotion—or it chooses you—or a situation that you have experienced and concentrate on an emotional memory that is similar or close to the character’s emotion, what’s going on in the scene: objective correlative. That’s a similarity. Method acting, using my real experiences, is my foundation not only for acting but poetry. Not an external but an internal thing.

In film, there’s the actor, director, editor, writer. In poetry, you have to do it all. Even taking your books to the bookstore and the publicity.

DG: You’ve appeared in over thirty movies and worked with some of the biggest names in Hollywood. What project do you look back on with the fondest memories, and did that particular period also coincide with a strong literary output, or did acting take up every minute?

HN: Over the Edge (1979). Jonathan Kaplan, the director, came up to me at my first audition, in the outer office, kneeled down beside me and said, “I want you for Sgt. Doberman. You have to go in there with four balls, look at the producer, make him like you, show warmth to him.” I did five auditions. On the last one I had five scenes memorized and plenty of improvisation material ready to use.

George Litto, the producer, gave me a six-week contract to play Sgt. Doberman, the best part I ever had. On location, in Greeley, Colorado, at lunch time, about a week into the picture, George said, “I’m giving you top billing.” That was the only time I ever got top billing in a film. Over the Edge was the first or second film Orion did when it was at Warner Brothers. It became a cult film. It was Matt Dillon’s first picture. My character, Sgt. Doberman, shot and killed Richie (Matt Dillon).

I loved working with Jonathan Kaplan. He’s got great depth, a large emotional range, a strong narrative sense, and strength as a filmmaker. He hired me as an actor 12 times in movies, TV shows, MTV video (“Wild Night,” John Cougar Mellencamp). I still stay in touch with Jonathan.

The cast was great, Dillon, Vincent Spano, Michael Kramer, Pam Ludwig, Andy Romano. Litto liked me. He, Andy, Associate Producer Joe Kapp, and I would eat out together most nights.

My future wife Holly Prado came to Denver and stayed with me for ten days. She said that was the best vacation she ever had. That was early in our relationship. She helped me a lot with dialogue.

I grew up in Sidney, Nebraska, 165 miles from Denver, so shooting in the Denver area was like I was home. I was 37, 38, so I was in good physical shape for the role.

I always have a notebook with me and I wrote some poems—2 are in my book, the images we possess kill the capturing. I always write poetry, but oftentimes films go down so fast that I channel that creative energy on my character, including sometimes contributing new dialogue.

Harry E. Northup (Sgt. Doberman) in Over the Edge

DG: Starting out, did you sometimes share your writing with those you worked with on set, or did you prefer to keep that aspect of your life separate and private?

HN: When you shoot a movie, it goes down fast, so you have to focus on your part. Also, most people in the movie and TV fields are not into poetry. They don’t know the tradition of poetry, the innovations. There are a few people who are into it. Martin Scorsese came to a publication reading for my second book at The Bridge, on Kenmore, above Hollywood Blvd, in late 1973, or early 1974. After I had read, he said some nice things about my poetry and told me he had a part for me in his next film, Alice Doesn’t Love Here Anymore, which I did. Jonathan Demme liked my poetry and our press, Cahuenga Press. He sent C.P. a check one time for 5 grand. Jonathan Kaplan, also, liked my poetry. Hector Elizondo, who was in my acting class, knows poetry. But, I never worked with him in a film. Later in my life, I met two splendid actors who are also wonderful poets, Michael Lally and S.A. Griffin. They are both erudite about poetry and acting. I never worked as an actor with them, but I have learned about poetry and acting from both of them and value them deeply.

Left to right: Matt Dillon (Richie White), Harry E. Northup (Sgt. Doberman) & Michael Kramer (Carl Willat) in Over the Edge

DG: The poetry you write reflects the raw, gritty material of everyday life and it draws heavily upon blue-collar experiences. Although you did study literature and writing at university, the aspects which make your work unique aren’t often encouraged by professors who teach writing. Why do you feel it’s important for literature to speak on behalf of the so-called “common man,” and what can college instructors do to promote writing which is not only art-affirming, but also life-affirming?

HN: I studied Verse and Structural Grammar with Ann Stanford, at CSUN, where I received my BA in English. She is one of the best poets to come out of LA. She would go down to her studio and write every day. She always liked my poems. Poetry is one person talking to another person. It has nothing to do with status. Obviously, you have to learn the tradition, which I have done, and you have to read and write poetry. Some professors do not hold poetry primary. Poetry and acting are primary with me. It has been said that poetry is praise and affirmation of life.

DG: Do you believe acting and writing can actually be taught, or merely encouraged?

HN: Acting and poetry can be taught, have been taught, and are taught. I am not a teacher. My late wife Holly Prado was a beloved teacher. She had the ability to see the authentic self in the other. Ann Stanford would point out what was good in a poem. The work of Stanislavski at the Moscow Art Theatre, the Group Theatre and the Actors Studio in America are part of the best acting tradition in the 20th century. In Frank Corsaro’s class, the one I was in from 1963-1968, some of my fellow students, and I, all made their living in acting: Harvey Keitel, Hector Elizondo, Salome Jens, Richard Bradford, Christopher Jones, Ralph Waite, Lane Smith, Billy Bush. I love Frank Corsaro. He taught me how to relax, concentrate, how to behave realistically in front of the camera. I think the best American actors studied acting. Studying poetry with Ann Stanford deepened and broadened my understanding of poetry. We had to write the different forms: sestina, villanelle, Petrarchan sonnet, Shakespearean sonnet, ode, syllabics, and so on. 2 poems a week of a particular form for the semester. In college, I was fortunate to have two great, inspiring teachers, one in poetry: Ann Stanford, and one in theatre: Wes Jensby.

DG: If you only had the chance to write one poem in your entire life, which one would that be and why?

HN: My latest book Love Poem To MPTF is one poem. I was the primary caregiver to my wife Holly for many years and LPTM shows my devotion and love for her and hers for me. Plus we both loved, and I love, living at MPTF, which celebrates its 100th Anniversary in 2021. MPTF received the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in 2021. It's the first time that prestigious award was given to an organization. MPTF has a legacy of giving. I believe that poetry is grace & grace is giving. Writing that work—it covers two years from July 18, 2017, when we were displaced by an electrical fire—the first poem begins with us living in a motel. It ends on June 14, 2019, in the ICU room at West Hills Hospital where Holly died. After living in the Dunes Motel on Sunset Blvd just west of Western Avenue for 22 nights, Holly and I lived in a room in Phoebe’s and Ron Ozuna’s home in Pasadena for 45 days. On September 25, 2017, we moved into The Villa at the Motion Picture and Television Fund in Woodland Hills, Ca. I was grateful to take care of Holly; it was a privilege. Somehow I feel there is a transcendence in this work—a transcendence of the personal. I like the language in the book. It’s about the last two years of Holly’s life. I just feel blessed to have been with her. Many family members, friends helped us get here and I will always be grateful to them, and to MPTF for inviting us to live here, and to its caring and helpful staff. MPTF is a magnificent place.

DG: Let’s talk about inspiration. Whitman and William Carlos Williams are two names that naturally come to mind, as both are known for their direct, uncompromising style, and the decisiveness with which they portray life as we live it. Indeed, both are great role models, but your biggest inspiration must have been your wife, Holly Prado, whose debut collection, Feasts, the CSULB scholar and poet, Bill Mohr, described as “an experimental book of prose poetry far more audacious and memorable than contemporaneous texts such as Lyn Hejinian’s My Life.” Along with a discussion of both her work and life, can you talk about the ways in which her aesthetic ended up influencing your own?

HN: In a 4-part, 3 hour and 45 minutes documentary that Channel 22 filmed of Holly and me, she said “I love to write. It’s the deepest pleasure I know.” I fell in love with Holly’s poetical, autobiographical, fiction, Feasts, in 1977. After reading it, I called her, took her—with my son Dylan—a dozen red roses. Holly and I met for lunch, took a walk in a park and began going together. I fell in love with her. We talked poetry morning to night.

Holly wrote. That’s what she did. She did not talk bad about other writers. She quit teaching so she could write. She wanted to write full-time, work part-time. She taught in her home, and later, our home for decades. Holly was my love, an inspiration. I would read her poetry that I had written the night before and she was always loving and supportive, nonjudgmental. She was in my poems. Holly put the body in the poem. She had a healthy, sexual vitality in her poetry. She was experimental. She would start a poem with an image. Her rhythms were asymmetrical. Our love was a miracle. I miss her every minute of the day. Once I thanked her for helping me. She said, “You help me more than I help you.” “We help each other,” I said. Another time I told her, “I’m glad you chose me.” Holly loved American poetry, especially Wallace Stevens. She loved the writers she worked with. She loved Cahuenga Press. She loved my son Dylan.

DG: Over the years, you and your wife worked hard to bring poetry to the forefront of people lives—a formidable challenge everywhere, but perhaps even more so in LA, a city whose poetry she felt “the entire world is blind to,” due to its iconic association “with film, television and music industries,” a fact, that, according to her, forced poets to work in “a kind of vacuum.” It would be interesting to hear about some of the projects, events, and readings you organized together for the sake of poetry.

HN: In 1979, I had a ten-week contract to play Carmine in Used Cars, directed by Robert Zemeckis, in Phoenix, Arizona. During the time I wrote and sent Holly 40 Picture Postcards from Phoenix. On one of them I wrote, “Someday we should do a small press.” In late summer of 1989 I brought the subject of creating a small press up again to Holly. She said yes. I said let’s ask two poets who have had poetry books published and two who haven’t, and let’s have an equal amount of women as men. We decided on Bill Mohr and Phoebe MacAdams, who had books out, Cecilia Woloch, who had not published any books, and James Cushing—I believe Jim had published a chapbook. We loved and respected them and their poetry. We asked if they would like to be founding members of a small press poetry publishing cooperative. They all said yes. We had our first meeting on September 16, 1989, at Phoebe’s home, on Rowena, in the Los Feliz area. Our first book was Holly’s Specific Mysteries, which got good reviews and sold out. Holly gave the money she received for sales of the book to Cahuenga Press, which set a precedent. From that moment on, all the money from book sales went into the CP treasury, which helped pay for the next book. To this day, no poet makes any money from book sales.

Bill Mohr and Cecilia Woloch have left the press. We recently asked Jeanette Clough if she would like to be a poet-member of Cahuenga Press and she said yes. We have published 29 poetry books, the last one was my Love Poem to MPTF in late 2020. Tangled Hologram, by James Cushing, will come out next spring. We support each other. We’re all different poets in terms of literary styles. We help each other.

In the LA Times Book Review, on Sunday, April 12, 1987, the Book Editor wrote that the Times would no longer publish reviews of poetry books and would instead publish a poem once in a while. After reading that, which displeased Holly and me, we talked about what we could do. One of us, I believe it was me, came up with the idea of doing a protest in front of the Times building and by Thursday we had called many poets to join us. It seemed like there were about 35 protesters. I had never taken part in a protest before. We made sure we followed the rules. It got a lot of coverage.

In early 1991, as part of the Los Angeles Poetry Festival, I curated an all-day event at Skylight Books, on Vermont Avenue in LA. It was “40 Years of Small Presses in Los Angeles,” that began in the 1950s with “California Quarterly.” It featured 19 small press editors/publishers who talked, from 10 AM to 8 PM on a Saturday, about their own presses: Beyond Baroque’s many manifestations of its literary magazine, Sunset Palms Hotel, Momentum Press, Invisible City, among others. One day about a week before the event I sent a proposal about the event to the Book Editor at the LA Times. Kenneth Turan happened to be sitting in for the Editor and he liked the idea, called me at home—the first time a big city newspaper editor called me at home—and fulfilled my request for the Times coverage by sending a first-rate journalist, Carolyn See, to cover it. “L.A. Poets: The Meter Is Still Running,” by Carolyn See, LA Times, appeared on the front page of the Book Review, on Feb. 24, 1991. It was the first time a review of a poetry event had been published on the Book Review’s front page. This event was tape recorded by Michael C. Ford.

Holly and I did a lot of readings of “long poems” together. The epic and the “long poem” have long been a passion of mine. Paul Vangelisti put together many of these. I put together an all-day reading of Tom McGrath’s 404-page Letter To An Imaginary Friend to celebrate McGrath’s 100th birthday. 40 poets, actors read at Beyond Baroque. At MPTF, I curated a presentation of The Bridge, by Hart Crane, in 2018, and one from Leaves of Grass, by Whitman, in 2019. Both of these were presented to celebrate Poetry Month. One time, Holly and I invited 8 poets over to our home on Mariposa in East Hollywood to read out loud H.D.’s Hermetic Definition. Holly made soup; she put out bread, cheese, drinks. I chose the sections for each reader to read, put the reading together. Holly and I always talked things over when I put together poetry events and readings. All of this would not have been possible without the love and passion for poetry of our fellow poets, including Phoebe MacAdams, James Cushing, S.A. Griffin, Richard Modiano, Michael C. Ford, Laurel Ann Bogen. Holly was the main person in all of the readings I put together. She always helped me. People loved her. She was a magnificent leader in poetry. We would never have been able to do this without the extraordinary poets in LA. I have said before that it’s important to have a community of poets so that each poet could go further.

Cahuenga Press poet-members: Standing: Jeanette Clough, James Cushing; sitting: Phoebe MacAdams and Harry E. Northup (photo credit: Ron Ozuna in 2021)

DG: And also your thoughts on the future of the art as well—aside from poetry theaters which will probably never exist, what else can be done to make verse as relevant and immediate to people’s lives as film?

HN: Film is a popular art form; poetry is a more intimate art form. Poetry is the one thing, along with film and acting, outside of my family, that has meaning to me. I find a sense of warmth in reading and writing poetry. I love to keep learning. Film and acting, and poetry have been my passions ever since I was a young adult. It would be nice if people talked about poetry as much as they do film. I don’t see that happening. I helped Aleida Rodriguez get a reading at Beyond Baroque several years ago, when Richard Modiano was the Director. There were only about 14 of us in attendance. Just a poet standing in back of a podium with a microphone in a black painted room with light on her as she read about her entrance into writing when she was a teenager in LA—Aleida and her mother were emigres from Cuba—was transfixing. Poetry is a quiet, elevated form—one person talking to another person—putting the mind on the page the way you actually think, a blessing. The poetry tradition goes back millennia; film is 125 years old. I love poetry and movies. There’s a debate these days about the future of movie theatres; platforms have changed.

When Covid-19 hit, all gatherings and activities were cancelled at MPTF. Jennifer Clymer, Director of Media at MPTF, began doing ZOOM shows four days a week that are streamed on Channel 1390, an on-campus TV channel for the approximately 227 residents & staff. Jennifer asked me to do a one-hour, weekly, poetry show. Last Tuesday, Sept. 28, 2021, 1-2 PM PST, was the 75th Harry’s Poetry Hour.

DG: What are some places in L.A. where you particularly enjoy reading or listening to others read?

HN: Beyond Baroque, Library Girl Reading Series at the Ruskin Theatre, and Harry’s Poetry Hour, Creative Chaos MPTF, on ZOOM.

In late 1968, or early 1969, when Beyond Baroque opened, I began attending its Friday night readings. (I was an original member of the free Wednesday night poetry workshop that began in February 1969. I went for 5, 6 years.) I have seen readings by Leland Hickman, Robert Peters, Jack Hirschman, Jackson Mac Low, Robert Kelly, Eloise Klein Healy, Holly Prado, Wanda Coleman, Martha Ronk, Diane Wakoski, among many others, there. My first featured reading at Beyond Baroque was with Michael C Ford in 1974. Beyond Baroque is the most important poetry center west of St. Mark’s Church in NYC.

Susan Hayden’s creation of her Library Girl Reading Series at the Ruskin Theatre in Santa Monica shows how one person can make a significant difference. She has hosted an astonishing array of brilliant poets, prose writers, playwrights, with grace, erudition and generosity. Her series is right up there with Beyond Baroque. Library Girl Reading Series is a blessing!

My third choice is a very personal one: Harry’s Poetry Hour, Creative Chaos MPTF. My purposes in doing a one-hour poetry show every Tuesday, 1-2 PM PST, for the past year and a half have been: 1. To present excellent poetry, including the poetry of Horace, Whitman, Dickinson, H.D., Anna Akhmatova, Robert Frost, William Carlos Williams, Louise Gluck, Gary Snyder, Allen Ginsberg, Ann Stanford, Holly Prado, The Symbolists, Langston Hughes, Phillis Wheatley, Audre Lorde, read by excellent readers who are MPTF residents, including Corinne Conley, Helen Richman, Brett Hadley, John Towey, Valerie Elson, Kay Weissman, Toni Sawyer, & CEO/President of MPTF, Bob Beitcher, & Jennifer Clymer, Director of Media at MPTF; 2. To invite splendid outside poets, including Carol Muske-Dukes, Sharon Doubiago, Alison Townsend, Paul Vangelisti, Bill Mohr, Jim Moore, Michael Lally, Phoebe MacAdams, James Cushing, Cecilia Woloch, S.A. Griffin, Susan Hayden, Pam Ward, Jack Grapes, Ron Koertge, Jack Hirschman, Michael C, Ford, Mark Rhodes, Jamie O’Halloran, Alexis Rhone Fancher, Jim Daniels, John Feins, Doren Robbins, Aram Saroyan, Gail Wronsky, and Sarah Maclay to read their poetry; 3. To keep the tradition alive and to show innovations in poetry; 4. To celebrate the possibilities of poetry.

To build a community through words. To be devoted to poetry. To keep learning. All in all, I am humbled and grateful to Jennifer Clymer for her kind invitation & for all the superlative work that she & the Creative Chaos Team have done to present Harry’s Poetry Hour in such an outstanding way. At least 43 of the 75 shows have been posted on MPTF Studios Harry’s Poetry Hour Youtube. The content and production values are outstanding. Jennifer Clymer and Bob Beitcher both have a loving support of the Creative. Bob has initiated a number of these poetry shows. They are here to help each one of us residents “extend our creative lives,” as Bob once wrote to me. I am deeply thankful to them, the residents and the poets who have read their poetry on the show.

DG: If you were forced into a situation where lying was the only way to save a person’s life, would you choose an actor or poet as your accomplice, and why?

HN: I believe candor is the way. My dad used to say to me, “You would lie when the truth would serve better.”

Didn’t Plato ban poets, calling them liars? It’s okay to invent in an art form. I believe in candor but breath is necessary to keep living. When I was a young man I wrote I will do anything for my career and I will kill to survive. Being an actor and a poet, the answer is arbitrary.

DG: Are you writing or working on anything at the moment?

HN: I write every day. My main theme is grief since my wife died a little over two years ago. There have been days when I have said I would give up every work I’ve written if she were still alive. She was my love. She was my protection.

I focus on my experiences. I still believe that it’s important to write about what you see, what you perceive through your senses, what inner visions you receive from the Muse, what your mind tells you, what you imagine. Love and loss are themes, as place is. Just to write a good, clean line. To be receptive and grateful to the Muse is my journey. Simplicity, empathy, gratitude.

Holly Prado and Harry E. Northup in front of The Villa, MPTF, in 2018

Author Bio:

Harry Northup has had twelve books of poetry published: Amarillo Born, the jon voight poems, Eros Ash, Enough the Great Running Chapel, the images we possess kill the capturing, The Ragged Vertical, Reunions, Greatest Hits, 1996-2001, Red Snow Fence, Where Bodies Again Recline and East Hollywood: Memorial to Reason, and most recently, Love Poem to MPTF (Cahuenga Press, 2020). He received his B.A. in English from C.S.U.N. where he studied verse with Ann Stanford. New Alliance Records has released his Personal Crime, new and selected poems from 1966-1991, on CD and cassette audio recording, and “Homes” on CD. Northup has made a living as an actor for thirty years, acting in thirty-seven films, including Taxi Driver (1976 Palme d’Or winner at Cannes), and The Silence of the Lambs (1991 Oscar winner for Best Picture). Harry is a member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Lewis MacAdams, in the L.A. Weekly, wrote, “Northup is the poet laureate of East Hollywood.”