Reviews
Still Motion: Poems and Photo-graphs. By Jianqing Zheng & Leo Touchet. Photo Circle Press, 2025. Pp. 62, $15, paperback)
John Berger opens Ways of Seeing by asserting
that “Seeing comes before words.” Explaining his
claim, he writes, “The child looks and recognizes
before it can speak.” Continuing his influential
collection of exploratory essays on sight, recep-
tion, and visual art, Berger identifies “another
sense in which seeing comes before words,” stat-
ing that “it is seeing which establishes our place
in the surrounding world; we explain that world
with words, but words can never undo the fact
that we are surrounded by it. The relation be-
tween what we see and what we know is never
settled.”
Written with clarity, strength, and direction,
throughout its fifty-plus years in print, Ways o f
Seeing has remained relevent for changing au-
diences, over time. For example, Berger cites
René Magritte’s painting The Key of Dreams to il-
lustrate what he describes as the “always-present
gap between words and seeing.” To establish the
foundations of his volume’s argument at the end
of chapter one, he declares, “our vision is contin-
ually moving, continually holding things in a cir-
cle around itself, constituting what is present to
us as we are” (www.ways-of- seeing.com/ch1).
In Still Motion Jianqing Zheng and Leo
Touchet assemble ekphrastic poetry and photo-
graphic images that speak back to the dialogue
that emerges from Ways of Seeing. With the inter-
play between Zheng’s poems and Touchet’s pho-
tographs bridging the “gap between words and
seeing,” this collaborative, interdisciplinary vol-
ume arrives as a contemporary conversational
partner for Berger’s celebrated study, delivering
a collection of stark images and stunning imag-
ery.
At the outset of Still Motion, Zheng provides
a description of the poetic project his contrib-
utions to the collection pursue by writing, “I was
fascinated with Leo’s black-and-white dune pho-
tographs when I received Duet, a collection of
photos and poems by Leo and his wife Liz.” Con-
tinuing, the poet praises Touchet’s work with
sand dunes in Chasing Shadows. He explains that
the images in this collection have not only
shaped Still Motion but informed his own sense
of how ekphrasis works. Zheng writes “ekphratic
writing is not a retelling of what we see in art-
work,” before suggesting that, instead, “it con-
cerns an interaction of the senses,” and arrives as
“a creation from the original art.” Outlining
these perspectives, Zheng explores the writing
process he pursues in the twenty-five poems that
he’s prepared for the volume.
Observing that the “beautiful shapes” in
Touchet’s photographs are “made effective by
light and shadow,” the poet states that they “in-
spire” his verse in the collection. Zheng explains
that the connection between his “ekphrastic po-
etry” and Touchet’s images in the volume repre-
sent “experiments with imagination, language
and synesthesia.” Touchet extends the scope of
these claims in the introduction/project state-
ment that he contributes to Still Motion. Aware
of the appreciation that the poet has for his im-
ages, the photographer writes, “Jianqing was fas-
cinated with my photos of sand dunes and later
reviewed my book Chasing Shadows. He later trav-
eled West to see the dunes himself.” Touchet rec-
ognizes that by going to the dunes, Zheng gained
insight about their ceaseless reconfiguration and
never-ending engagement with light and shadow.
The photographer remarks that, in this way, the
poet came to discover, just as he had, that “the
only time that you can photograph the dunes is
during the first and last half hours of the day
when the sun is low and causing shadows.”
The sensibility arising from this dialogue in-
forms the distinct interplay between the poetry
and photographs in Still Motion. Connecting
both artists’ work, sky and wind shape their
words and images, as the volume delivers its ad-
dress to light and land. Offering their observa-
tions of the delicate, incremental study in
structure and process that are the dunes, Zheng
and Touchet establish the terms of their conver-
sation about space, time, and motion. With their
work conveying this rarified, nearly precious qual-
ity, speaking to sand whispers and shadow si-
lence, poet and photographer capture both
emergence and closure, as the raw and the re-
fined converge in sifting images. The poems and
photographs in Still Motion turn and shift, undu-
late and interface, moving along and across the
page, capturing possibilities for exchange be-
tween line and word, black and white, presence
and absence.
In this way, Still Motion explores intersections
where sight constructs meaning and appearance
assembles perception in the two artists’ work.
The titles of Zheng’s poems—“A Way of Seeing,”
“Questions from Seeing,” “Juxtaposition,” “See-
ing Shadows,” and “Sight to Sight,” among
others—respond to Touchet’s images of the Mes-
quite Flats Sand Dunes and Eureka Valley Dunes
of the Death Valley National Park in California
as well as the Monahas Sand Hills State Park of
Texas. For example, in “The Visual Chord,”
Zheng bends line and sound into a multi-dimen-
sional, ekphrastic reflection. Observing, collect-
ing, and re-assembling elements of a Touchet
Mesquite Flats Dunes photograph, the poem
renders a complex, layered, mirror of the photo-
grapher’s sun-and-shadow emulsion.
These impulses become fully evident in the
opening stanza of “The Visual Chord.” Situating
himself in relation to an evocative photo of sand,
shadow, and light taken by Touchet in Death Val-
ley National Park, the poet proclaims,
The beguiling light and shade form variant
images out of dunes to allure you to grab pic-
tures and exclaim delightful surprises. When
light slides away and you are on your way to
the tent, shade expands inch by inch into an
oblong image unexpected and awesome
again to the eye. (p. 17)
Zheng, thereby, brings his poet and his readers
into the photograph, conducting an image-driven
translation project through his verse in Still Mo-
tion. Transposing the “perception of an image”
into “poetic imagery,” the poet brings his readers
into the extended conversation he conducts with
Basho over the course of the volume. Zheng en-
gages the Japanese master’s hybrid, haibun form
in “The Visual Chord,” moving the poem to its
conclusion with a traditional, three-line haiku
that reads,
stranded on a beach
a humpback whale
in desperate silence. (p. 17)
In this way, throughout Still Motion, the poet
speaks both to and from Touchet’s photographic
imagery. Zheng’s variations on haiku, renga, and
haibun progressions serve as the medium for
sight and sound, along with word and image, to
mirror each other. Within their volume, Zheng
and Touchet excavate and enter the lived mo-
ment. Their collaborative exchange brings au-
diences into a deep, full, and immediate contact
with the possibility and promise that arrive in
their imagistic encounters with place and percep-
tion. As the poems and photographs in the vol-
ume span these spaces, they bridge what Berger
describes in Ways of Seeing as the “always present
gap between words and seeing.” Throughout Still
Motion, Zheng and Touchet open eyes, effectively
illustrating Berger’s contention that “our vision
is continually moving,” changing and illustrating
its capacities, “constituting what is present to us
as we are.”
--Michael A. Antonucci
Mississippi Hippie, A Life in 49
Pieces
. By Willy Bearden. (Deep
Delta Publishing, 2024. Pp. 286,
$34.95, hardcover)
In the rural South, boys named “William”
at birth are normally called “Billy” shortly there-
after. A few of them, later on, become labeled
“Willie/Willy.” By high school, almost all of
these people have outgrown “Billy/Willy” and
have become “just plain Bill.” Not many adults
remain “Willy.” Of course, there is the obvious
exception of the famous Willie Nelson . . . and
our author here.
This memoir is by a well-known Memphis
personality who has proven himself quite success-
ful in his chosen enterprises. He has focused
mostly on historical Memphis, in his publica-
tions and photographs, in several heavily-viewed
documentary films, in organizing the University
of Memphis symposia on the Delta, and general
public relations.
His accomplishments might be surprising
given the life he describes in 49 non-chronologi-
cal vignettes.
He grew up in Rolling Fork, a village in the
lower part of the so-called “Mississippi Delta.”
The portrait he paints of the place, and his life
there, is not pretty, but perhaps insightful of
small town life in the American South, and espe-
cially the Mississippi Delta, during the last half
of the twentieth century.
His father participated in the local “society
of alcoholism,” (“a beautiful pack of alcoholics”),
his mother toiled hours daily “on her feet” in a
beauty shop, he was a poor student who learned
to read late and who, embarrassingly, had to re-
peat the seventh grade. At a young age, around
the pool hall, roadhouses, and juke joints he
learned all of the raw, crude clichés of Southern
dialect. Growing up, his victories were few, but
he did manage to tackle Archie Manning in a
high school football game.
Bearden especially likes storytelling and
Mississippi Hippie is his story, “his truth,” that he
hopes might enlighten and inspire others. His
prose shines when he talks about some of the
“characters” in Rolling Fork. These include his
uncle “Doc,” Sheriff Tarleton, and the longtime
jailer.
Following his mother’s guidance to become
literate, the author’s life
took on new meaning.
He became an avid
reader and eventually,
he becomes a devotee of
“Mr. Billy” Faulkner.
That didn’t mean his life
was always smooth there-
after. His early love of
music led to time in
local bands, to a Hippie
sub-culture of “sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll,” then
on to serious long-distance hitchhiking, and just
“hanging out” with a few friends.
Along the way, Willy found that he could
not accept the stereotypical attitudes of his town
folk. On race: Probably because of his early
friendships with black kids, he wasn’t racist. On
war: The anti-Vietnam protester of the 1970s
finds that “I am more anti-war now than I was in
my 20s.” On religion: By his fourteenth year,
Willy had shed his Episcopal/Baptist upbring-
ings and found that he “had little use for
church.” His philosophical summation is simple:
“be nice, or leave.”
Like many from the Delta, after high school
he made his way to Memphis. He saw in Rolling
Fork, as in other Delta towns, “the slow and pain-
ful death that has lasted more than fifty years”
and realized that he had to leave. At the end of
his senior year in high school he drove to the
mental institution outside of Jackson to see his
father and left Rolling Fork. He tried a junior
college and Ole Miss for less than a semester, be-
fore returning to Memphis and a few odd jobs:
wholesale liquor deliveries, sold old tires (at least
tried to), became an ordained “minister,” and
eventually got a job with Motion Picture Labo-
ratory where he, after years, learned the film-mak-
ing trade.
One clear intent of this collection of recol-
lections is to thank all the people who played a
role in his life. In his first chapter, “The Book of
the Dead,” he writes that since his eleventh birth-
day he “kept a list of everyone I knew who had
died.” In his last chapter (“Memorial Day”), he
explains that “a person doesn’t die, for the sec-
ond and final time, until their name is last said.”
Then follows a radically-innovative ending to a
book: he writes the names of 370 deceased
people who he remembers. He wants dearly to
credit others for his successes. But while I do not
know the author, I see it differently. I am more
inclined to believe that he is one of those few
who succeed on their own, from their own inner
strength.
Bearden reeks of “tha Delta,” and loves the
notion of that “place.” Fifty years after high
school, he returned to buy a house in Rolling
Fork where he penned this memoir. Perhaps he
still wants to be called “Willy” because it keeps
him attached to his Delta deep roots.
For those interested in “Delta studies” this
book is a valuable contribution—to understand
life at both personal and community scales.
--William V. (Bill) Davidson