CHILDREN OF AN EXPRESSIVE GOD Preview by Karl Young The Roman alphabet you're now reading evolved over a period of some four thousand years. Though it began as a form of picture writing, its main line of development has been toward phonetic notation, eliminating all pictorial content and intrinsic significance. The result is a set of flexible symbols, capable of recording any sequence of words simply, clearly, transparently. It can be seen as one of humanity's greatest marvels. That is , if you can hear and hence understand its phonetic base. If you can't hear, it may seem diabolical: a system of communication that presupposes intuitive knowledge of a dimension of reality completely outside your experience, one that might just as well depend on your ability to perceive X-ray frequencies. Though deaf people can master this seemingly arbitrary set of symbols it remains a foreign language and reading is not the same sensible activity it is for those who can hear. Given the absence of sound and the foreignness of alphabetic writing, it might seem that poetry is an area of experience from which the deaf are excluded. As a matter of fact, ASL (American Sign Language) does not as yet include a sign meaning "poetry." But poetry is more than linguistic frameworks, and there are deaf poets. Some have reached out toward a hearing audience. A good example of this is The Flying Words Project, made up of deaf poet Peter Cook and his speaking partner Kenny Lerner. They will be performing at Woodland Pattern on Saturday, April 1, at 8 p.m. The center of Cook's poetry is ASL, a means of communication through hand gestures. This flows into a larger mode of expression, including gestures that employ the whole body, facial expressions, and mime. Cook has adapted techniques from the movies into his poetry, including close-ups, angled shots, zooms, and panning shots. Anyone who has seen a skilled signer communicate knows how graceful and expressive these gestures can be. Add to this the skills in other forms of nonverbal communication, and it's not hard to see how deaf poetry can be beautiful, and not completely alien to those who don't understand ASL. It is an intensely physical art, and hence demands empathy. Cook's work ranges from the comic to the deadly serious. He presents clear, high-impact images, sometimes in surrealistic sequence. The audience may find itself riding in a Space Shuttle along with Cook, exploring several new worlds at once; or Cook can lead them apprehensively through a booby trapped tunnel in Viet Nam. What's it like to be trapped inside a bottle of beer? Cook has a rendition of that experience. Kenny Lerner translates Cook's signs into spoken English enhanced by a wide range of mimetic and abstract sounds. He originated the minimalistic approach to vocalization which has greatly influenced deaf performing arts and aided the interaction of deaf poets and hearing audiences. Lerner and Cook have been working together for four years, chalking up a fair share of awards and generating interest in deaf poetry and theater. In the days of Imperial Rome, poetry readings were popular -- and poets were well aware of the need for physical gesture in poetry. It was common for poets with poor declaiming voices to hire orators to do the actual reading. But it was absolutely necessary for the poet to stand next to the speaker and supply the appropriate gestures. Maybe those of us who hear have lost something since that time. If we look for what is essential in poetry outside of sound, we can see rhythm, balance, and surprise as basic elements. These can be achieved without sound. Cook can even approximate some of the traditional repertoire of spoken poetry. A series of parallel rhythms can suggest lines, and Cook often employs handshape rhymes. But more important is communication of basic human feelings. Cook and Lerner may appeal particularly to people for whom the words of contemporary poetry get in the way. Lerner entered the field of deaf education in 1980 after seeing a production of "Children of a Lesser God." His inspiration came from both the human drama of the play and the beauty and expressiveness of signing. The movie version of that play ends with the line "do you think we can find a place where we can meet -- not in silence . . . and not in sound . . ." Perhaps Cook and Lerner are in the process of finding a collective door to such a place.