Lunation – Clara Hsu

Farewell, Bill

lunation5 — After a reading at Santa Clara University, with Bill Mercer and David Wong. Bill’s paintings on the back.

Maybe he is Buddha. But for seven years Bill Mercer was in flesh and blood. It couldn’t have been a dream. We read poetry and accompanied each other with musical instruments for as long as we’ve known each other. Tonight I heard he left his apartment keys to another friend and took off in his van to Louisiana, where he came from.

Without a goodbye Bill disappears into the mist. Seven years ago he appeared at my shop, picked up one of the shakuhachis on display and filled the room with breathy and unharnessed sound. Bill became a regular customer at my world music concert series and we bumped into each other at Sacred Grounds’ poetry reading.

A constant friend and poetry partner, we read all over the Bay Area as Lunation. Bill cared for my cats while I was away. Up to two weeks ago he was helping me to take care of my aging father.

His brush paintings hang on my walls, somehow I know Bill won’t been back for a long time. Steve Mackin called him “Buddha of the Bayou”. There is something mystical about the number 7.

Two Tongues of Gaia

B&B — Clara & Bill at Bird and Beckett Books

As the last tone on the singing bowl fades away, we know we’re ready. Bill looks at me with a smile on his face and I smile back. Next Wednesday (July 27) will be the premier at the Sacred Grounds. Our new set of poetry, Two Tongues of Gaia, includes the usual instruments of Bill’s shakuhachi and my drum. But we have added some vocals and the Native American style flute.

Whether we rehearse at my house or Bill’s studio, the ritual always begin with a cup of tea. Conversation ensues on the state of the world, friends and community, with Bill warming up his shakuhachi in between. We like to run the set through, pausing in between to discuss the issues that come up—the rhythms on the drum, the tempo in the recitation, the balance between voice and instrument, etc. Sometimes things work out smoothly. Other times we struggle through, tolerating each other’s point of view, but ultimately a decision is made.

We sit back, feeling good about what we’ve done, and drink some more tea. The gestation part has been rewarding. We look forward to bringing the child into the world.

Photo by Richard Beban

The Shakuhachi Man

My poetry partner Bill Mercer and I have a duo called “Lunation”. Aside from being a poet, Bill plays the shakuhachi, a Japanese bamboo flute. When I first heard him play I was still running Clarion Music Center. I was struck by his sound–free–was the only word I could use to describe it. You can’t plot his notes because there is no scale. You can’t define them because there is no meter. You can’t confine them because there is no rhythm. He plays by how his great body and mind feel. His music is like the cosmos, infinite and mysterious.

We practice regularly before a performance. The challenge for me is to harness his freedom so that my verse and his music may come together and not be entangled. After five years we are beginning to tap into each other’s psyche. He understands my needs if I can verbalize them. There are moments in our practices and performances that are exquisite and heavenly but they will never be repeated. Only a memory remains, but indescribable.