Kenward Elmslie, 1929-2022 --- Poet, Lyricist, Publisher

What I want to know is:
When I'm dead and gone.
Who'll prop me up in the dawn? -- Kenward Elmslie

Born on April 27, 1929, in New York City into a distinguished family—his grandfather was Joseph Pulitzer—Kenward Gray Elmslie grew up in Colorado Springs, CO, attended St. Mark’s preparatory school, and then Harvard, receiving a BA in English in 1950.

In 1952 his passion for musical theater led to a romantic relationship with Broadway librettist John Latouche, who wrote “Taking a Chance on Love,” “Lazy Afternoon,” and a number of Broadway shows and operas. Latouche's vibrant New York City artistic salon was frequented by Truman Capote, Lena Horne, Jack Kerouac, Gore Vidal, Marlene Dietrich, Frank O’Hara, Lotte Lenya, and Duke Ellington.

Shortly after arriving in New York, Elmslie wrote a song (“Love-wise”) that Nat King Cole recorded.. Over the years Elmslie wrote librettos for musicals and operas with composers Ned Rorem, Jack Beeson, Thomas Pasatieri, Steven Taylor, and Claibe Richardson, which were performed by the NYC Opera, Houston Grand Opera, Seattle Opera, Glimmerglass, York Theatre Co., on PBS, and at Broadway’s Martin Beck Theatre. 

In 1953 Elmslie and Latouche bought an 1840s farmhouse and surrounding property in Calais, VT. The two divided their time between New York City and Calais until Latouche’s death in 1956. Elmslie retained the property, spending increasing amounts of time there and finally becoming a resident of Vermont. Although for many years Elmslie maintained a low profile in the community, he opened his home to his many writer, actor, and artist friends, such as John Ashbery, Alex Katz, Richard Thomas, Ruth Ford, Harry Mathews, and Joe Brainard. In 1963 Brainard and Elmslie became not only romantic partners but also artistic collaborators. Brainard spent months every year with Elmslie in Calais, painting and writing. It was there that he wrote his classic, I Remember, while Elmslie and Richardson worked on what has become a cult favorite Broadway show, The Grass Harp.

It was also in Vermont that Elmslie founded Z Press, a nonprofit literary publishing company whose authors included Ashbery, James Schuyler, Edwin Denby, and others associated with the New York School of Poetry. When the Calais post office was in danger of being closed due to a low cash flow, Elmslie rescued it by funneling all Z Press business through it. Elmslie also organized a series of local poetry, film, and musical events. Early on in Calais he had become friends with culinary expert and writer Louise Andrews Kent, perhaps better known as Mrs. Appleyard, but he was also very close to local people who worked for him, notably the loyal handymen Ralph Weeks and Harold Clough, who in turn found him to be a remarkably cordial, entertaining, and slightly eccentric fellow. In the 1970s, the Town of Calais surprised him by renaming the dirt road he lived on: Elmslie Road.

Elmslie published ten books of poetry, including Motor Disturbance (Frank O’Hara Award, Columbia University Press) and Routine Disruptions: Selected Poems and Lyrics 1960-1998, and gave numerous poetry readings and performances around the country. Those who saw his funny and moving performance—he had a very fine singing voice—at the St. Johnsbury Atheneaum have never forgotten it. He also published a novel, The Orchid Stories (Doubleday/Paris Review) and saw his play City Junket performed by New York’s Eye and Ear Theatre, with sets by Red Grooms. Two of Elmslie's most memorable lyrics are "They" and "Change Your Name to Woolworth," which he performed for an admiring audience at Hamilton College in Fall 1978.

As a Pulitzer heir, Elmslie was able to make many charitable gifts to needy writers, poetry organizations, and civil rights groups, as well as to the Town of Calais and the Vermont Land Trust. In doing so, he always maintained a strict anonymity. He was a shy man. He owned a house in Greenwich Village and thre great parties there in the 1970s and 80s.

In his later years Elmslie’s health declined, due to dementia, and on June 29, 2022, he died peacefully of natural causes. He is survived by his half-sister Alexandra Whitelock of Calais, VT, nephew William Weir of Marathon, FL, nephew Gordon Weir of Cambridge MA, and niece Vivien Russe, of South Portland, ME. His ashes will be scattered in Vermont, as he wished.

Adapted from VTDigger . See, too, W. C. Bamberger's moving obituary in Rain Taxi. From gunslinger Neil Genzlinger's obit in the New York Times:

<<< In New York in the 1950s and ’60s, [Elmslioe] mixed easily with an artsy crowd. A 1965 article in The Times about a trendy party in the Bowery had him among the guests, with [Andy] Warhol, the photographers Diane Arbus and Richard Avedon, the pioneering electronic composer Karlheinz Stockhausen and others, all gathered to hear a reading by William S. Burroughs.

The year before that party, Warhol had given Mr. Elmslie one of his Heinz ketchup box sculptures, a classic example of Warholian Pop Art. More than four decades later, in 2009, the work was stolen, along with other valuable items and several million dollars. “Pulitzer kin hit in pop art scam,” the headline in The Daily News read.

In 2010, James Biear, who had been Mr. Elmslie’s chauffeur and caretaker, was indicted in the thefts. News accounts at the time said he took advantage of Mr. Elmslie’s dementia, which was already in its early stages. In 2012 Mr. Biear was sentenced to 10 years in prison.

In 1963 Mr. Elmslie began a long relationship with Joe Brainard, an artist and writer with whom he also collaborated on various projects. Mr. Brainard died in 1994. Mr. Elmslie is survived by a half sister, Alexandra Whitelock. >>>

Comments

[Terence Winch]

Kenward was indeed a generous person. I believe he was also the man behind "The Fund for Poetry," which sent out checks, anonymously, to many writers, myself among them.

[Rick Winston]

In 1972, two years after moving to Calais, VT, I got a call that began, "You don't know me but my name is Kenward Elmslie..." I couldn't believe my ears. When I was a student at Columbia a few years previously, my friends on the Columbia Review were great admirers of Kenward, Joe Brainard, Ron Padgett et al. Now I found out that Kenward, Joe, and Ron all spent their summers just miles down the road. The reason Kenward called me was that he was presenting a local reading and was looking for someone to play the piano to accompany his poetry. I think it was Satie and Gershwin that I played. This was my introduction to this warm, witty, generous, unique man. I feel blessed to have the opportunity to have known him over the years.