Interviews

 

 

An Interview with Maya Pindyck
by Kristina Marie Darling

Maya Pindyck grew up in Newton, Massachusetts and Tel-Aviv, Israel. She is the author of Friend Among Stones (New Rivers Press) and the chapbook, Locket, Master (Poetry Society of America). Also a visual artist, she has exhibited her work widely. In 2005, she co-founded Project Voice, a growing compilation of personal stories that aims to deflate the stigma surrounding abortion. Her awards include the Many Voices Project Award, a P.S.A. Chapbook Fellowship, Bellingham Review's 49th Parallel Poetry Award, and a fellowship to attend Squaw Valley's Community of Writers. She holds a B.A. in philosophy and studio art from Connecticut College, an M.F.A. in poetry from Sarah Lawrence College, and an M.A. in education through the New York City Teaching Fellows program. Maya currently lives and teaches in Brooklyn. She was kind enough to answer a few of our questions about writing, teaching, and her first full-length collection of poems.

As a writer who's also a practicing visual artist, do you find that the two disciplines are complimentary? How so?

The two disciplines are complimentary in that what is said is usually the same. It's the "how" that's different. I'm obsessed with certain issues and those issues come out in whichever artistic discipline I choose—writing, visual art, sound, performance, etc. It's just the medium that changes. As a society we're a bit too concerned about disciplines… maybe the focus should be the meaning, purpose, and effect of a work of art, whatever form it takes. A bad painting is just as bad as a bad novel, so who cares if it's a painting or a novel? I find that disciplines are often complimentary beneath their forms and academic categorizations.

When asked about the style of your poems, you've described them as "image-driven." This description is an apt one, as your poems often use visual images to illuminate and complicate one another. In this respect, do you see your artwork influencing the way you approach form and narrative?

Er, yes… I have trouble answering that question, so I usually just say "image-driven!" It's true that many of my poems are driven by images— and sometimes the poems are the drivers of the images. The process of drawing/painting often influences how I string words together. In my visual artwork, I rarely begin a work from a place of narrative. Usually a feeling, energy, or careful observation begins the work. I think the same holds true for my poems. Sometimes a narrative emerges after the work has been created, or in relation to a body of work.

You've studied visual art, but also philosophy, creative writing, and education. Do you feel that such a diverse background is necessary when approaching creative projects?

Absolutely—and it's taken me a while to see that. I used to feel pretty torn about having many interests, and I thought that I had to choose one to avoid being "a jack of trades and a master at none." Now I'm grateful for having such a diverse background, which has certainly informed and enriched my approach to creative projects.

Have your studies in philosophy, art, and education contributed something to your writing that can't be found in a traditional workshop setting?

If done well, I think the traditional workshop setting can set the groundwork for philosophy, art, and education. I've been in excellent workshops where participants were highly present with the work—offering creative insights, deep reflections, and have taught me a great deal. I have also been in ego-driven workshops where the work examined became about the reader's own likes and dislikes, and sometimes even his or her personal story. What is found in the traditional workshop setting depends on the quality of human interaction within that setting. Also, the traditional workshop setting is not exactly field work… it usually occurs within the safe walls of academia. When what is realized from the workshop is applied outside academia, then it becomes action, education, art…

Tell us about your work as an educator. Do you see teaching as an integral part of the artistic process, or something altogether separate?

For the past four years I have been teaching in the New York City public school system at a high school in Brownsville, one of Brooklyn's most disadvantaged neighborhoods. I find that my interactions with students demand what the artistic process demands—reativity, compassion, awareness, and hard work. My students inspire and humble me. I learn from them just as much as I teach them. I do see teaching as an integral artistic process in itself. Ironically, the system of education (especially in New York City) is hardening and deadening to the artistic process of teaching.

As someone with such a wide variety of interests, what brought you to poetry specifically? Does the literary form offer something unique that can't be found in other disciplines?

I've always loved to write, and I filled many journals with terrible poems as a teenager. Still, growing up, I saw myself more as a visual artist than a writer. Later on, while making artist books and stamping text onto my drawings, I arrived at a new sense of poetry. I was drawn to poetry for its ability to communicate visually and sonically using words. I also appreciated the clean, non-messy, non-toxic materiality of words, so I decided to pursue poetry instead of painting for my M.F.A.

Tell us how Friend Among Stones was born. Did you know from the beginning that you were writing a book, or did the manuscript grow out of smaller projects that you were working on? In other words, how did the collection find its present form?

My M.F.A. thesis was a very rough draft of Friend Among Stones. Probably 50% of the poems in that book came out of the thesis. I developed the book over the course of two years… I knew from the beginning that I was writing a book—I just didn't know at the time what kind of book would take shape.

Your new book includes several poems from an earlier chapbook, Locket, Master. Can you tell us more about the process of transforming this shorter project into a longer collection? What advice do you have for chapbook authors hoping to do the same?

I can't say that I intended to turn Locket, Master into a larger collection. Locket, Master was meant to be what it is: a little collection of poems. I put it together while a student at Sarah Lawrence, and at the time, the poems fell together so naturally. I remember sitting on my floor with a bunch of poems, putting them in an order that felt intuitively right, and stuffing them in an envelope to mail to the P.S.A. My advice to future chapbook authors is to see the chapbook as a work in and of itself.

Do you see chapbooks as a stepping stone to a full-length collection, or can they be a literary form in themselves?

No, I don't. The idea of a chapbook as a stepping stone to a full-length book seems strange— kind of like seeing a short poem as a stepping stone to a long poem.

Your book demonstrates great formal range, and takes on subjects ranging from childhood games to aging and feminism. Do you feel that it's important for writers not to identify too strongly with one literary form, or one specific subject? Why or why not?

It seems wise not to identify too strongly with anything!

As a someone who's traveled extensively, and has lived in Newton, Massachusetts, Tel Aviv, Israel, and New York City, do you identify with any particular place or tradition?

A large part of my heart is in Tel Aviv. I am very close with my family there and some my happiest memories are from the years I lived there as a child. I grew up primarily in Newton, Massachusetts, but I don't identify very strongly with the neighborhood—I feel more at home in the urban jungle of New York City. I'd like to grow old in either Italy or Greece.

What are your greatest influences, literary and otherwise?

Marina Abramovic, Helene Cixous, Jean Valentine, Marcel Duchamp, the Marx Brothers…

Any new projects in the works?

I am working on an anthology of abortion stories based on Project Voice, a web-based compilation of personal narratives that I co-founded in 2005. I also want to coordinate a walking meditation through Grand Central Station.

 

 

Kristina Marie Darling is the author of a full-length poetry collection, Night Songs, which is available from Gold Wake Press. Her work has been published in The Gettysburg Review, The Boston Review, Shenandoah, The Colorado Review, New Letters, and other periodicals. Awards include residencies at the Vermont Studio Center, the Ragdale Foundation, and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, as well as scholarships from the Squaw Valley Community of Writers and the Colgate Writers Conference. She currently studies philosophy at the University of Missouri, St. Louis and hopes to pursue a doctorate in English literature.