Kinsale Drake — Put on that KTNN

Mon Dec 02 2024

In Kinsale Drake’s poem “Put on that KTNN,” she writes about driving to a hometown as a familiar station crackles to life on the car radio. From this corner of America, she creates her own country music — of Navajo voices alongside Johnny Cash and Loretta Lynn, of drumbeats and guitar licks, of things wrought by nature and things made by humans, all of them rooted in the desert sand.

Summary

Podcast Summary: Poetry Unbound – Episode: Kinsale Drake — Put on that KTNN

Podcast Information

Title: Poetry Unbound
Host: Pádraig Ó Tuama
Produced by: On Being Studios
Episode Title: Kinsale Drake — Put on that KTNN
Release Date: December 2, 2024

Introduction

In this evocative episode of Poetry Unbound, host Pádraig Ó Tuama delves deep into Kinsale Drake's poignant poem, "Put on that KTNN." Through a meticulous exploration, Ó Tuama uncovers the layers of meaning woven into Drake's work, examining themes of place, memory, and the unifying power of music.

Context of the Poem

"Put on that KTNN" is set against the backdrop of Navajo land, intertwining the cultural heritage of the Navajo Nation with the universal language of music. The poem references KTNN, a Navajo-language radio station, symbolizing a conduit of tradition, community, and evolving identity.

Themes Explored

1. Place and Memory

At its core, the poem is a meditation on place and memory, capturing the essence of returning home and the intricate ties between land and identity. Ó Tuama articulates:

"Place is return home. Here it is also sound. Place is also landscape and place is memory..."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [06:30]

This highlights how physical locations serve as repositories of personal and collective memories, shaping one's sense of belonging.

2. Music as a Unifying Force

Music emerges as a central motif, representing the thread that binds generations and cultures. The poem navigates through various musical influences, from Patsy Cline and Hank Williams to contemporary Navajo sounds:

"Even today I know I am nearing home when the pop music crackles into KTNN..."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [04:50]

This fusion underscores the dynamic evolution of cultural expressions, blending traditional and modern elements to reflect changing times.

3. Contradictions and Multiple Identities

Drake's poem deftly balances contradictions, embodying the coexistence of different identities and influences. Ó Tuama observes:

"All contradictions find a home in the body."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [07:15]

This line encapsulates the harmony achieved when disparate elements merge, fostering a richer, more nuanced identity.

Detailed Analysis of the Poem

Imagery and Metaphor

Drake employs vivid imagery to paint a sensory landscape:

"Gas station banjo and hot rocket guitar. A strong woman that sings the seasons over a hand drum."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [05:20]

Such descriptions create a tapestry of sounds and scenes, illustrating the vibrant interplay between nature, culture, and personal history.

The Symbolism of KTNN

KTNN isn't merely a radio station in the poem; it symbolizes a cultural anchor for the Navajo community. Ó Tuama explains:

"The title of the poem put on that KTNN is a reference to a Navajo language radio station... defines a particular community..."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [08:45]

Through KTNN, Drake captures the essence of a community's resilience and adaptability, maintaining cultural continuity amidst change.

The Role of Ancestry and Legacy

Ancestral references enrich the poem's depth, connecting past and present:

"Grand ocean, sun, plankton, Pearl, blood ancestor cloud, radio rainbows..."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [10:10]

These elements evoke a sense of timelessness, emphasizing the enduring legacy of those who came before.

Insights and Conclusions

Pádraig Ó Tuama concludes that "Put on that KTNN" is a generous tribute to the convergence of place, memory, and music. The poem serves as a bridge between generations, cultures, and personal histories, illustrating how art captures and preserves the multifaceted nature of human experience.

"This is a land of monuments, not a wasteland... a generous poem about looking at a particular place..."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [13:50]

The recurring motif of music in the poem underscores its role as a universal language that transcends boundaries, fostering a sense of unity and continuity.

Notable Quotes with Timestamps

Introduction of Musical Influences:

"My mother was raised on Patsy Cline and Hank Williams country that bounced in on her father's radio."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [03:45]
Exploration of Contradictions:

"All contradictions find a home in the body."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [07:15]
Depiction of Place and Memory:

"Place is return home. Here it is also sound."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [06:30]
Symbolism of KTNN:

"K is the opening letter of American radio stations west of the Mississippi and TNN stands for the Navajo Nation."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [09:00]
Concluding Reflection:

"Easy and easy and blue."
— Pádraig Ó Tuama [13:55]

Conclusion

This episode of Poetry Unbound masterfully dissects Kinsale Drake's "Put on that KTNN," highlighting its intricate layers of meaning and emotional resonance. Through thoughtful analysis, Pádraig Ó Tuama invites listeners to reflect on their own connections to place, memory, and the enduring power of music.

For more insights and discussions, listeners are encouraged to explore the accompanying Poetry Unbound website and join the vibrant conversations on the Substack newsletter.

Transcript

Padraig O Tuama (0:00)

Hi friends, I've got some news for you. I've got two books coming out in early 2025. 44 poems on being with each Other is a poetry unbound collection with 44 poems and 44 essays. There's poems from Jericho Brown and Mary Oliver and Lucille Clifton in there. And I have a collection of my own poems coming out too. It's called Kitchen Hymns. You can pre order these wherever you get your books. Online bookshops or even better your local bookshop. There's more info@poetryunbound.org thanks friends. My name is Padraig O Tuama and last summer I was back in Belfast and it was during Belfast Traditional Music Week. It was a great festival and one night I was in this small pub that was crowded and this great music was being played mostly by young people under 20, but there was a whole load of them too as I heard them talk, who'd moved to Ireland and happened to like traditional music and so brought their own interests from afar and they were expanding the music through their brilliance and through through their own far reaching and walking home. Later on the night I found myself thinking about what is it that music can do that evokes memory and evokes place and evokes belonging, but also it tracks change as well, because I'm not listening to those songs as if I was five again. I'm listening to them in my late 40s. And Ireland has changed and I've changed and the music too has changed. To wrap all of that in its particular sonics, put on that KTNN by Consaledrake My mother was raised on Patsy Cline and Hank Williams country that bounced in on her father's radio. Even today I know I am nearing home when the pop music crackles into ktnn, licks of fluent Navajo flitting between Loretta Lynn and Johnny Cash. They are interludes too, for drumbeats and throaty covers of well loved tunes put on by some local boys. Gas station banjo and hot rocket guitar, a strong woman that sings the seasons over a hand drum. Then it is back to more Loretta Lynn all contradictions find a home in the body, the insect skin of the car sluicing the Arizona desert as the cicadas pick up grand instruments. How else to know you enter a land of monuments, not a wasteland loved by radio waves and peach trees and silly dogs that bridge the distance between a chapter house and the nearest sonics In a city the moon rocks darken into pine, pine into slick rock, and the whole world remembers what it once was grand ocean, sun, plankton Pearl, blood ancestor cloud, radio rainbows, the most violent parts of the land thrashed by thunderstorms and sea as the rattles pick up their backing track and Hank Williams rolls in all over again, easy and easy. And this poem put on that KTNN by Kinsale Drake. It has a setting in Navajo land and in a place where a particular radio station reaches in a certain sense the the FM and then maybe even broader the am, which goes very very far, defines a particular community who are interested in what it is that's going to be communicated over this radio station, ktnn. Consel Drake is Janae and grew up in Los Angeles Navajo Mountain, which is on the Utah Arizona border where her maternal grandmother lived. And so place is return home. Here it is also sound. Place is also landscape and place is memory, the memory of having been and grown up and knowing what is familiar in passing. The particular sounds, the recognizability about what's coming on the radio, the particular pastiche and tone and archive of song and language in Navajo and in English, these bring us all into a particular experience of place. But places here also as a signpost back blood ancestor, cloud, sun, plankton Pearl, the memory of all it is that the land knows it was and all it is that you bring to the land yourself. Now, whether with contemporary music, Patsy Cline or Hank Williams or Loretta Lynn, or listening a strong woman that sings the seasons over a hand room in multiple languages, places brought to mind, brought to memory and brought to experience as well. The title of the poem put on that KTNN is a reference to a Navajo language radio station. K is the opening letter of American radio stations west of the Mississippi and TNN stands for the Navajo Nation. I tuned into it while I was preparing for this and it's got music but also announcements, chapter news as well as livestock and regional and international news as well as then as is mentioned in the poem, country and Native American music. Music holds so much of this together. So the opening line references Patsy Cline and then there's Hank Williams country that bounces in on the father's radio. And then pop music crackles into KTN and then licks of fluent Navajo. There's gorgeous employment of verbs the whole way throughout this flitting and then there's interludes and drum beats and throaty culvers of well loved tunes. Some local boys, gas station banjo and hot rocket guitar. Music comes in other ways too. The whole way throughout the poem, cicadas pick up their grand instruments. It says that the silly dogs Bridge. The distance between a chapter house and the nearest sonics in a city. There's so many ways in which you can look at that word bridge. There's a line break after that. Of course, bridge is a musical term as well. And sonics a fast food place as well as a way to talk about what it is that you hear and pine into slick rock. And the whole world remembers what it once was. In a way, it feels to me like Kinsale Drake is linking the music of the radio and the music of family into some kind of demonstration of the music of creation, the music of remembrance, the music of the land that knows its own sound and knows its own history. The most violent parts of the land thrashed by thunderstorms and sea. As the rattles pick up their backing track. We're caught into some moment of cataclysmic creation. And then right at the end of the poem. And Hank Williams rolls in all over again. Easy and easy and blue music keeps on repeating from something enormous and strong and powerful to the way that it ends with repetition. Easy and easy. And it's beautiful choice to say two words and to say each of those two words twice. Easy and easy and. And the final word. Blue. Blue for what? Blue for the sky. Blue for a mood. Blue for a memory. Blue for a fl. About halfway through the poem, Consale Drake makes this statement. All contradictions find a home in the body. And then it continues to talk about the insect skin of the car sluicing the Arizona desert. And then the cicadas. I found myself wondering the first time I read this, what are the contradictions? In many ways, the contradictions become apparent as you read the whole poem. And these are contradictions about being from multiple places, being fluent in multiple languages, and being fluent in the musical language of Loretta Lynn and Patsy Cline, as well as then the seasons being sung by a strong woman on the radio over a hand drum. It's worthwhile paying attention to a word that's very early on in the poem but is ultimately an enormous theme throughout the poem. My mother was raised on Pasigline in Hank Williams country that bounced in on her father's radio. But to look at the word country, Kinsale Drake is dine. And so to speak, about country. Ultimately, in a poem, you're hoping that every word can mean multiple things. Hank Williams country is the country of Dene, is the country of Navajo. So country music, of course, is a genre, but the word itself is pointing beyond a genre of music and pointing to land and who has lived on the land and what has grown on the land and the memory that the land has of itself that's a political and artistic and geographic and mystical to kind of memory that's present in that word country. What we find, I think is that there's a great calling together the whole way throughout this poem. It is a poem that imagines some kind of gathering, the word and occurs so many times in the last five five and a half stanzas and peach trees and silly dogs and the nearest sonics in a city and the whole world remembers thunderstorms and sea easy and easy and blue. This is a generous poem about looking at a particular place and saying that this is a land of monuments, not a wasteland. And then looking at all of the layers of memory, of community, of family, of sound and of the ancient place that is this planet we live on that has given us life. The and and and of abundance is everywhere and reaches something like some kind of orchestral crescendo as the poem completes itself. Put on that KTN by Kinsale Drake. My mother was raised on Patsy Cline and Hank Williams country that bounced in on her father's radio. Even today I know I am nearing home when the pop music crackles into ktnn licks of fluent Navajo flitting between Loretta Lynn and Johnny Cash. They are interludes too for drumbeats and throaty covers of well loved tunes put on by some local boys. Gas banjo and hot rocket guitar. A strong woman that sings the seasons over a hand drum. Then it is back to more Loretta Lynn. All contradictions find a home in the body. The insect skin of the car sluicing the Arizona desert as the cicadas pick up their grand instruments. How else to know you enter a land of monuments, not a wasteland. Loved by radio waves and peach trees and silly dogs that bridge the distance between a chapter house and the nearest sonics in a city. The moon rocks darken into pine, pine into slick rock and the whole world remembers what it once was. Grand ocean, sun, plankton, pearl blood, ancestor cloud, radio rainbows. The most violent parts of the land thrashed by thunderstorms and sea as the rattles pick up their backing track and Hank Williams rolls in all over again. Easy and easy and blue.