In Search of Lorca's Grave
An interview with Rick "Klaus" Theis
(versión en español)
If turning 40 for John Lennon was "(just like) starting over," for poet Rick Theis it must have been just like taking off. Since reaching that milestone three years ago, the Ohio native has published his first two volumes of poetry and has a third nearing completion. In 1997, Theis catapulted into the global spotlight for his involvement in the polemic CNN International Town Hall Meeting. The event was criticized as a government pep rally designed to raise public support for military strikes against Iraq.
Theis was born and grew up in Warren, Ohio, the same hometown as poet Kenneth Patchen. He earned a degree in Social Sciences from Ohio State University, and after a two-year stint in law school, worked at various jobs before creating his own video production company, with which he supplements his work as a freelance writer.
Robert Lavigna:I’d like to talk a bit about your most recent publication, Lorca’s Grave. How did that come about?
Rick "Klaus" Theis:In May 1997, I had an opportunity to go and read some poetry over music. We got together in a recording studio—just a home studio—and we improvised the music. The musicians were the three members of V3 (now split up), which was a fairly well-known underground rock band, plus two other friends. I played bass on four cuts and did some other things, and other people switched instruments now and then. Once we’d recorded five or six songs, we’d listen to them, and I’d pull out a poem I thought would fit. I’d read some biographies of Federico García Lorca and read his poetry... and I’d written some poems about him and his situation during the Civil War. We ended up recording twenty-some songs, and it seemed to hold together
as a whole album, so I called it Lorca’s Grave, named after one of the cuts. [Later] I decided I might as well put a book out called Lorca’s Grave, too, because I wanted to put out the poems that are on the CD.
RL:What was it that got you interested in Lorca in the first place?
Theis:I had read a biography, something called Lorca: Poet of the People. I thought of it in terms of what poetry means to society. We’ve got poets out there, the conscience of society, talking about the most important issues... about what we need to do, but they’re not talking about it from an egotistical standpoint or being paid off to say something in convoluted language. They get to the heart of the matter. They’re philosophers. Maybe they’re high priests, too. I think poets are an important part of society, but they’re not valued as such all the time. Lorca is a case in point. He tried to bring culture to the common people, tried to write poetry that was accessible to them, plays that [...] they could relate to. From my understanding, he wasn’t politically involved in any party, but he was definitely a poet of the people, and interested in the common people, so he was pegged as a left-winger. And he did have some friends who were left-wing intellectuals. So when the right-wing forces got a hold of him at the beginning of the Civil War, I guess they decided that he had to die... Something touched a chord in me: I write a lot of political poetry, and I’ve been involved in political actions and organizing for a long time, so I related to Lorca. Fortunately, I haven’t been executed; that’s nice. I live in a little different time and place. I mean, this country is very free in certain ways. We have rights. But I could see fascism taking hold in a lot of countries, including the United States. I don’t see our Constitution as an inoculation against it, or our history. It could happen anywhere.
RL: So the title actually came from one of the poems, "Lorca’s Grave."
Theis: Right. That’s because the biography I read said that the actual location of Lorca’s grave was unknown. And that made me think, "Where is Lorca’s grave? Where is Lorca’s grave, in a metaphysical sense, or physical sense?" We don’t know where it is, and that got my imagination rolling. The poems about Lorca seemed to just come right out. I didn’t plan them, but that’s my favorite kind of poetry. [...] I don’t know whether there is some force beyond us. A lot of people feel they’re just channels for energy. I feel that too, but I don’t know what that energy is. I don’t know whether there is a God or a Great Spirit, or whether we’re all cells of one Being, which is God, or cells of the universe, which is God, but I do know that there is a power beyond me that I feel coming through me sometimes. I think that’s the purest expression,
when you can tap into that and let it out. Because otherwise, the ego sort of twists things—"I want to use this big word here or I want to sound cool, so I’m going to say it this way." But if you can just let it flow through you, that’s pure artistic expression. Spiritual expression.
RL:I wanted to get into your role as a social and political activist. When did that begin?
Theis:It’s a long and sordid tale. My dad was a steelworker. My mom was a housewife and later became a real estate agent when we all started school. Warren is a steel town, and northeastern Ohio is very liberal. The rest of Ohio is very conservative. Well, my parents started out voting for Kennedy in ’60. In ’68 I think they both voted for Wallace, third-party, far-right candidate, because they were watching the 60’s and getting freaked out—"There’s a rev-olution going on, we need to stamp this out!"—so they went as far right as they could. As for myself, in ’68, I was 12 years old. With-in a year or two, I turned to the most radical Democrat possible, because I’d started learning about civics and history. I watched the news. I knew what was happening. I saw Vietnam. I became a dedicated anti-war activist—as much as a kid could be...
So, my consciousness had been raised in this way. I was told about what America should be. I learned about what our Constitution guarantees, and how America is supposed to be supporting freedom around the world. I bought into that because my parents bought into it. But then I looked at the reality; the reality is totally different. We’re supposed to be for freedom, but we’re invading other countries, putting down freedom movements. There are so many ways we’re exploiting people. Maybe because I was young, I was open to seeing that contradiction. There were two ways I could have gone: I could have either closed my eyes to the reality and lived in a La-La Land of "America is doing everything right all the time," like my parents, or seen the contradictory reality and acted to change it.
A lot of times in America or anywhere people assume that when there is silence, there is approval. And they may also think, "Well, I’m not sure that this is right," but they may want to go along with the majority... So as long as you can give them an outlet and show that there is some opposition to a policy you believe is wrong, you’ll get a lot of people who will immediately change their opinion, because that’s where they were leaning, but they didn’t have any company. And they don’t want to do it alone. Very few people want to stick their necks out.
RL:The CNN International Town Hall Meeting: Was it a failure? The Clinton Administration claimed it was a fine example of democracy in action.
Theis:(laughs) Well... It was a success for democracy, but I don’t think it was because of the Clinton Administration. It wasn’t set up to be an open meeting. It wasn’t set up democratically. People in the community didn’t know it was going to happen until a couple days before. [The organizers of the event] had come to a place where Clinton expected support. They set it up so only certain people could get into the meeting. They had tickets printed for admission, but almost all these tickets were for bleacher seats which had no microphone access, no chance to ask a question. Floor seats were limited to certain groups such as student organizations, political science classes, the League of Women Voters, so they knew who was going to be in that part of the audience that could ask questions. It’s not like they went into the poorer neighborhoods of Columbus or contacted left-wing organizations and gave them tickets so that all points of view would be represented. Instead, microphone access was set up for people who had a stake in keeping society the way it is.
Then you look at the actual event. Coverage was only open to one network, CNN. You had these authority figures from Washington—they were the ones who had the stage. No one with a different point of view was sharing the stage with them. They made opening statements, which was just them spouting information at the audience. Then, instead of anyone being able to get in a contrary opinion—even the people in the audience who were already pre-selected to be relatively conservative weren’t allowed to make a statement—they were only allowed to ask questions, which means the information was flowing only one way.
So what happens is you’ve got Columbus, Ohio, which is a relatively conservative community, but people who had political beliefs that were against what was going on made a concerted effort to show up in force. They did a good job organizing with two days’ notice. They tried to get as many tickets as they could to get inside. Some of them smuggled signs in. They decided, "Okay, basically this is not an open meeting. We’re not going to get our point of view heard, and the only way we’re going to do it is by using tactics that are maybe not acceptable..." They weren’t polite tactics. They started chanting. When these people started chanting, I joined in. The moderators, of course, didn’t want to hear this, because it was disrupting the program, and they were trying to stop the people from chanting. So I took it upon myself to explain. I stood up (I was onthe floor; I had gotten a ticket sur-reptitiously) and said, "The reason these people are shouting is they don’t believe their point of view will be heard. Will we get a chance to ask a question or make a statement?" I was told by Madeleine Albright, "You’ll get your chance." That’s exactly what she said: "You’ll get your chance." And Bernard Shaw said, "Yeah, you’ll get a chance." So then the people quieted down.
Well, they finished their opening statements, and then it was time to ask questions. I was the first person in line at the microphones—there were three microphones for questioners on the floor. The woman who was stationed at the microphone with me, a CNN representative, said, "What’s your question?" and I said, "I don’t have to tell you my question. This is America. Last time I checked, I could ask whatever I want, right? There’s free speech." She contacted the director on her little headset and said, "You’re not going to be allowed to speak unless you tell us your question." So I said, "I’m going to talk about why this CNN meeting is set up in an anti-democratic way, not allowing the free exchange of ideas." She got back on her headset. "Oh no, you’re not going to ask that; go sit down." And I said, "I’m not going to sit down."
In the meantime, they’d gone to the first two questioners, skipped me and went back to microphone one, went back to microphone two, skipped me again, and then went to a caller. At this point it was obvious that I was not going to be allowed to speak. They were freezing me out. So I interrupted the meeting and just started yelling that I was not being allowed to speak, it was my turn to speak. Judy Woodruff, one of the moderators, was contacted by the program director through her earpiece and said, "What, we have another caller? Oh, we’re going to a commercial." So they knew what was going on. As soon as they went to a commercial, Bernard Shaw, the other moderator, came over to me and said, "Why are you disrupting the meeting? You’re going to get your chance to speak." I said, "No, I’m not going to get my chance to speak. They told me they’re not going to let me speak."
Then some people grabbed me about five guys and dragged me out into the hall. This was later shown on the local TV networks and some of the national networks, but it was not broadcast on CNN or shown live because it happened during the commercial break. When I got to the hallway, I said, "Am I under arrest?" They said, "No," so I said, "Then I’m going back in." A representative of the university said, "Would you wait just a moment? We want you to talk to a CNN producer. We may have a way that you can get on and speak." He came out, asked me what the problem was, I explained it, and he said he would let me speak. He wanted to know if I would wait a little until it calmed down again, and I said okay.
So they let me back into the arena, but they had a There was a guy in front of me and I asked, "Hey, do you mind if I get in front of you, because I’m afraid I won’t have a chance to ask a question. And he said, "Oh no, I’m going to ask my question!" I thought, "Okay, whatever." I wasn’t going to get in a fight with him. So I waited. At this time they announced, "No more questions. We’re now going into final statements," so this guy sat down.
So there I am again. I’d been lied to by CNN. I decided, "Okay, I’m going to interrupt the meeting again. What can I do? It’s the only way." It’s just like I said: People who were in the stands felt the only way their opinion would be expressed would be to be a bit impolite. Well, I had to be a bit impolite. So I started yelling, "I was told I’d be allowed to ask a question." Apparently, they couldn’t go to another commercial, or I’m not sure why, but they agreed to let me speak. I immediately started walking up to the podium. I wanted to speak from the stage, because why should only their side be presented from the stage? They said, "Oh, no, go back to your microphone." I figured I didn’t want to press my luck too much, because there were people in the audience booing me—as well as some cheering me—and I said [to myself], "I’d just better make my statement."
I made my statement, and basically talked about why this setup was unfair, why it wasn’t democratic. It was a bogus town meeting, not a real one where there is equal input from all sides—or any input from the other side, really. And then I talked about why we shouldn’t bomb Iraq. Clinton had admitted that the only reason we were going to bomb was to send a message. We weren’t going to eliminate Saddam; we weren’t going to eliminate all of his weapons of mass destruction. That was impossible with our bombing attack—it was just to send a message to him. I said, "We, the people of Columbus, Ohio, central Ohio and all over America will not send messages written in the blood of Iraqi men, women and children. If we want to deal with Saddam, we deal with Saddam, not the Iraqi people."
At that point, I went and sat down. I was pretty exhausted after fighting to get there. I felt like a salmon swimming upstream. Afterwards, I had a lot of press features and media talking to me. I got into Time magazine, some Japanese newspapers, French TV and front pages all over America. I tried to use all of that post-event coverage to get an anti-war message across.
It was not an open meeting. It wasn’t a great exercise of democracy. In fact, people excused what happened by telling me, "If this were another country, you might have gotten dragged out and shot." And I’m thinking, "That’s supposed to be a great endorsement of the American system: ‘I wasn’t shot, just dragged out?!’" That doesn’t seem like that’s democracy, you know? If you’re having a town meeting, if somebody wants to make a statement, just let them make their statement. Why were they so afraid of what I had to say? It’s just ideas. That my idea might be better—that’s why they were afraid. They felt the need to censor it. That’s why I’m totally against censorship. Ideas must be free to compete. The Clinton Administration calling this debacle an exercise in democracy was just trying to put the best possible spin on the situation. They knew they had screwed up. Their policy was exposed for what it was: a bankrupt policy that wasn’t morally right or politically intelligent.
RL:Do you think there’s a feeling that this "Pax Americana" is slowly working its talons around the globe for its own economic interests?
Theis:Oh, definitely. That’s what’s fueling the entire thing, because the United States government is basically controlled by U.S. corporations. A lot of U.S. corporations are multinational, and the U.S. wants to protect U.S. interests—meaning corporate interests—around the world. It’s all tied together, and on some level people understand that, and that’s why they support it. Basically, Americans are into protecting their lifestyles. They want to drive their big cars with cheap gasoline. They want to have as many technical gizmos as they can to play with. And they know in order to do that, they have to support the military and whatever we need to do around the world.
It’s a sin for America to think it can be the [moral] arbiter of the world. Being the police-men of the world, I can see that. We’ve got more strength than anyone else. But police should only enforce, not also make the laws. I believe that the United States should not think its way is always right. It’s a very insulated country. It doesn’t understand other cultures. Most of our people are not very internationalistic. What we need to do is have some kind of inter-national government that allows all these different cultures and all these different political ideas to come together, and they choose the best ones. The U.N. is a beau-tiful organization, es-pecially in terms of its international human rights code, and we need to enforce that code. We need to use the World Court in a way that allows its opinions to be enforceable, just like we do in the U.S.
I love the United States. I love the Constitution, especially the Bill of Rights. I love the way our government works—I think it works fairly well. But we’ve got some real problems here, and one of them is trying to bully our way around the world and decide what’s right for other people just because it’s the best for us.
RL:That leads us to the goal of the artist. What should their role in society be? Do they create simply to entertain, to capture or represent the beautiful in some way, or should their art carry some sort of message?
Theis:It’s both and I’ll tell you why. If you create beauty, you actually open a person’s eyes to the mystery of life, because beauty is something that’s unde-finable. It’s like knowing you’re alive. It lights up life. As far as politics goes, again, that’s part of the beauty of life: that we can actually make changes that can make people happy, that can minimize pain, and actually help people to live more fully in that mystery. To revel in that mystery.
I think that all of the arts celebrate life, and politics is a celebration of life, too, because it’s actually trying to make things better. It’s trying to make our lives more beautiful, and allow us to celebrate the beauty. Anytime things are wrong politically, the mystery is drained out of life. Anytime people have to go through pain they shouldn’t have to go through for no reason other than someone’s greed or ignorance, it’s a sad state of affairs. Why shouldn’t people be allowed to celebrate the mystery and beauty of life? Many aren’t. [For] some people, every day is a struggle to survive. There is very little or no beauty, and I don’t like seeing that beauty and mystery stolen from them.
RL:Do you think that artists are simply products of the society they are brought up in, or are they unique voices?
Theis:A little of both, because it’s very difficult to escape the culture you were brought up in. I think artists strive toward reaching more of a universal voice. And they should, because for one thing, when you’re stuck within your culture, a lot of times it’s hard to see what’s wrong with your culture. And if you change it, or celebrate what’s good in it, you encourage it to keep growing and be sustained.
An artist has to stretch the limits of what his consciousness is and how it was formed by his society, go beyond it in order to get a different perspective of his society, which can help enlighten people within a society, because he’ll have that perspective that can maybe shed light on something people may not have seen within the culture.
RL:What about spirituality in your art? How does religion influence it, if at all?
Theis:That’s a good question. I was brought up Catholic, [but] I had a falling out with the Catholic Church during the late 60’s. [...] When I got to college, I became exposed to Eastern religion. It really opened my eyes, because it was a totally different philosophy, a different way of looking at life. I started noticing how the East and the West had drastically different views of what life is about, and even the logic was different. I started studying a bit of Taoism and Zen Buddhism; both really attracted me. I liked the idea of Zen because it was immediate. It’s like seeing an immediate en-lightenment. Not necessarily enlightenment like you’re a wise man or a guru, but enlightenment for that one moment, that one thing.
That influenced me because it helped me with my mind. I was stuck in Western thought. I had also had a rough childhood, so I had a lot of problems I was dealing with. Thinking of them in only a Western way limited me, and it was hard for me to escape those problems, but the Eastern way helped me a little bit. For one thing, I identified myself with the entire universe, and I didn’t feel like all the problems I had were stuck inside of me. I feel pretty good when I look at the sky and see that it’s a reflection of me. The trees are, and the streams and the mountains. I feel pretty cool; I feel pretty good. It’s a beautiful thing to be.
