Expat Valery Oisteanu and his wife Ruth: A Couple of Poet/Artists Share a Roadmap for Creative Perseverance

By: Leah Kogen Elimeliah


Since the late 70s, artists Valery and Ruth Oisteanu have been vital threads in the tapestry of the Lower East Side art and literary scene. Their lives, woven together through poetry, collaging, painting, and teaching, embody the essence of a profound creative partnership. Our paths crossed during an event I organized, Artists and Writers Stand in Solidarity Against Antisemitism, in February 2024 at Cafe Aronne on the Upper East Side. The world had witnessed a surge in Jew hate, a dark tide that spared not even the vibrant streets of NYC. Valery’s poetry that evening struck a chord deep within me. I sensed that his words, a fervent cascade of passion and truth, resonated  with the audience’s collective unease and hope. This encounter led me to discover the rich practices of both Valery and Ruth, each a master in their respective medium, each exploring the pressing issues of our time with unwavering honesty. Valery’s story is one of exile and rebirth, a refugee from communist Russia and Romania, cast out not only for his political stance but for his identity as a Jew. Decades later, he faces a familiar menace, this time in the “Land of the Free.”

What insights do poets, artists, and expats offer about the current political climate in the United States, about the role of art amidst rising tides of hate and propaganda? In our conversation, Ruth and Valery shared a roadmap for creative perseverance. They spoke of art as a sanctuary, a weapon, and a beacon. Their stories are a testament to the enduring power of the creative spirit, urging poets, writers, and artists to continue their craft in the face of adversity. Through their eyes, I saw a vision of how art can illuminate the darkest corners of our world, fostering resilience and unity in turbulent times. 

LKE: As a Soviet born Jewish, Romanian-American writer and multimedia artist can you tell me a bit about your personal and creative journey?
VO: My journey started a little over fifty years ago, in 1972, when I escaped from Communist Romania via Italy. There I applied for Aliyah. I went to Israel where I spent about six months working for Kol Israel, for the Romanian and Russian Diaspora. After I moved to Europe, where I studied art and architecture in Beaux-Arts de Paris. I was about twenty nine years old then. By coincidence and chance I met my wife, Ruth first in Jerusalem, then in Berlin and then in Paris. I didn't speak any English at that time, so it was difficult for us to communicate. But we exchanged letters and sometimes phone calls. I finally followed Ruth to New York after she invited me. The rest is history. 

I studied English as a second language at Columbia University as well as creative writing. Several years later I began writing poetry and have been publishing ever since. I am on my nineteenth poetry collection. I spend most of my time writing about art for different magazines, NY Arts, Brooklyn Rail, ArtNet.com, High Time Magazine. All the essays I have written for the Brooklyn Rail were about Surrealism, about 150 essays. I specifically choose the artists who I love and who have influenced me. I am also an artist, mostly focusing on collages. However, lately, I have been working with watercolors and acrylics.

I speak and read Romanian but I don't write poetry in Romanian. I leave that to the translators. Five of my poetry books have been translated to Romanian. My last book, In the Blink of a Third Eye, a contemporary collection, mostly about my travels, was published last year. A couple of days ago I heard it was sold out, so I am waiting for the second edition. 

Every year we travel to exotic places like Morocco, Japan, Thailand, or Mexico and while we travel I paint, write poetry, work on collages. The travels sort of create notebooks of memories and when I get back to New York, I recreate them into a poetry or a drawing book or a collage book. This time, I collaborated with my wife, she did the illustration and I added the poetry. 

We traveled to Mexico and Romania, went down to the Danube River and the Danube Delta and were witness to the climate change that has been happening in the area. The Russian-Ukrainian war is very close, on one side is Ukraine, on the other side is Romania. A lot of spillover from the war is going into the river, polluting it. You can see huge barrels of chemicals discarded, and a rusted fleet of dredging vessels that are abandoned in Danube. Since my childhood, I see the depletion of the flora and fauna, animals and birds. 


LKE: What subjects linger in your poetry and art and continuously reemerge? 
VO: I always mention my mentors and those who have inspired me throughout the years. By writing about them, I am keeping them alive. Almost every book that I have published there’s a section called In Memoriam. There, I included writers like Charles Henri Ford, a well known American writer and publisher. I consider him my American mentor, particularly in surrealism. I would also mention Ted Jones, a Black Beat poet, Ray Johnson, another mentor of mine. John Evans, an East Village artist who created collages every single day. When he died they found over forty thousand collages in his home. And of course my French and Romanian friends, Gellu Naum, top Romanian surrealist and Gherasim Luca, a French surrealist. I want to preserve their memory and also teach future generations about these great artists and poets. 


LKE: Ruth, can you tell us a bit about yourself?
RO: I was born after the war in a displaced person’s camp in Germany, outside of Munich, where my parents were waiting for their visas so they could leave for the United States, which came eight months after I was born. I was raised and have lived in Brooklyn, Queens and Manhattan. I had been a public school teacher for many years and retired in 2003. This gave me more time to pursue my art and concentrate on my personal interests. 

I started getting more serious about collage about ten years ago. Valery has been teaching me. Of course during Covid it was more rewarding. I was getting more sophisticated with my work and the collages became more thematic. I’ve had a couple of shows in NYC and in Woodstock. We had a show in Tompkins Square Library and another at the Jefferson Library with our collages and paintings. I have been published in various magazines. We work together a lot, a collaboration between my collages and his poetry, Here, There and Nowhere. I always worked with Valery on his writing as well, editing his poetry and nonfiction writing. 


LKE: What are your thoughts about the current political and social climate?

VO: When Trump was the President of this country, it was the worst time that we lived through. Back in Romania, my whole family, my brother and cousins, my niece, they were all against Nicolae Ceausescu. What was very different in this generation from the one before them, the past generation was more inclined towards communism. Back then, I did not agree with that so they black listed me as a writer. I could not publish. I could not hold my weekly column, because I wrote too positively about artists from other countries which collided with communist propaganda. I fought as much as I could. 

I had a radio show about jazz as a form of music that was anti-imperialist, against exploitation, but nevertheless, the Romanian Communist government kept me on the black list for most of my career. I only published one book back in Romania called “Prosthesis,” which was a poetry collection on my position of brainwashing people through propagandist and communist driven education. I didn't do it overtly of course, I expressed myself through poetry, but it didn't work. They still shut it down, even though it was well received. They tried to burn my books, to ask critics to write against me, tried to keep my books out of bookstores, and attempted to repress my free speech. The moment I escaped Romania, they started propaganda against me by accusing me of speaking badly about Romania. I had given one interview to Voice of America where I was very careful about attacking the Romanian government, because my family was still there and I was worried for their safety. And even though I repressed a lot of my anger, they still considered me a traitor. 

Important thing is that I continued to write about other repressed writers in Romania who didn't have freedom or rights and who were black listed as well or worse, they were put in jail. I continued to do this until 1989, which was in the midst of a revolution. 

After I became a citizen of the United States, I began to focus more on American politics. I also delved into the art scene here in New York, exchanging ideas, and being a part of American society. I thought art and politics can meet around philosophy, a movement towards coexistence. 

When I mention the Trump era, I am talking about what that election brought on, something I haven't seen before since I am living in America, the schism, the differences in our society. I wasn't aware of it. I wasn’t aware of the anti-semitism that is still around until October 7 happened. Since then, my approach to Judaism has changed a lot. In Romania we were excluded from anything Jewish, synagogues, the Jewish community, from our language. My family was not involved because they were strictly communist so that automatically forced us to denounce our Jewish traditions and observances. 

The first time I felt more free as a Jew was in New York. My wife and I attend a synagogue, she lights candles on Shabbat, we observe the holidays. I feel very connected, especially because Ruth is interested in Yiddishkeit and Yiddish culture and theater, she supports the Yiddish Center. The main purpose for the Nazis was to eliminate the Jewish people, their language, their culture and art. They did the same thing in Russia under Tzar, under communism, they eliminated our beautiful language and our beautiful culture. This is a crime against humanity, to take a developed language and community of art and literature and to completely eliminate it. This current anti-semitic movement that sprung on us now from all over the world and universities, I had never expected that in the United States and Europe.

How can we, as a developed society, still have not resolved many of the conflicts that are still going on today: conflict in Ukraine, racism, calling a Jewish Prime Minister a Nazi. Russia has supporting regimes like Syria, North Korea, and China. And in the U.S. we have our problems. The writers and artists of today must find common ground through dialogue and coexistence. I stand with Israel, but I also stand with American Jewry who are persecuted and bullied by pro-Palestinian thugs, kept in fear on college campuses, in the corporate world and the art world. This is not what America is all about.

LKE: Where do you think art is going?

VO: I consciously participate and curate shows in which we open doors to a diverse group of people from all backgrounds. I believe this is the only way to resolve anything, by having a dialogue even if people are of different opinions, we must learn how to listen to others. 

I understand those who are against the war, I am also against the war. But we also have to be pro-Israel and see that certain fights are fights for existence. In Israel it's a fight for existence. There have been continuous wars because Israel is surrounded by countries who are against them, that don't  recognize them and want to annihilate them. 

It’s not enough to teach about the Holocaust, we have to also teach about today and it’s all done through education, literature, art. To be a Jew in a country that doesn't like Jews is not going to work. We need to find mutual language for both democrats and republicans since we are a democratic society.



LKE: What are you currently reading and what exhibition or show have you recently visited?

RO: A play called The Ally, by Itamar Moses, which was in the theater before October 7th but had so much of the same themes. It was about a college professor who was approached by his students to sign a manifesto, which he agreed to sign, until he reads the document further and realized it's also speaking against Israel. This forces him to question what he really believes, his identity and faith. 


VO: I am not reading too much these days because I am always busy with my own writing. I am currently working on my memoir and I just launched my poetry book. Nevertheless, I always enjoy Israeli writers such as Amos Oz or Yehuda Amichai, they are great representatives of Israeli culture. Unfortunately, there isn't enough cultural space for Israeli artists and writers, especially now. Last year when I visited Romania I was quite surprised to find more Israeli writers and artists represented there than here in the U.S., which is quite telling of the social climate we are currently facing. This must be remedied. And we must all do this together.

Poems from: Here, There & Nowhere

(Spuyten Duyvil,NYC-2024)

  

Italy Mon Amour

Milan by Night

Valery Oisteanu

Dark streets full of cars that never stop
Moving at a brisk pace hissing through intersections
The bus arrives on time electronically displayed
Service workers, drunkards and occasional tourists
Slump over their phones with tired expressions
Bars are jammed with fashionistas, Campari in hand
Smoking outside bonds the young high-heeled vapers
A long line for pizza after a noisy soccer night
It's raining, and umbrella vendors are everywhere
Milano does not sleep much, radios blasting out of cars
Car-alarms awaken and never stop honking
It’s hard to be a bohemian poet in a room
Crammed with books and poisoned spiders
Confused, walking past the church of San Marco
Taxi drivers try to seduce me,
Predicting the future with high confidence
As ghosts of medieval kings watch from high towers.

On the Romanian Road

The Danube's Last Hurrah

Valery Oisteanu

In the morning my bed is a dried-out marsh
I wake up to get ready for the Danube Delta
The highway to Tulcea is jammed with holiday freaks
Rushing feverishly under a serene sky to the Black Seaside
Fields of red poppies sprout on both sides of the road
Every gas station is a pretext to stop for coffee
I can't stop talking, retelling my life story in Romanian
For my new young friends: Mihai and Ana
Memories keep crushing through my chest
Ana speeds down the road, marked by old Slavic churches
Chiming every hour by an invisible bell master
A symphony of my travels without legal papers
An expired passport, a displaced-person lesser-passé
Lucky for me no one is checking at the India-Nepal border
My wife Ruth corrects my story at each turn
The slowness of the past, our love story starts in Israel
But first let's park the car and jump into a small boat
No time to kill, we are on the Sulina Canal of the Danube Delta
The sunset breaks over huge tankers crisscrossing the waters
The waves mess up fisherman’s roads, the fish are not biting
The birds are hiding in the reeds, jackals are up and howling
My story has just began, flowing until late night under the sway of summer
Under a sky full of piercing stars, time and wine hold us together

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