Dan's Papers - November 23, 2007

Siv Cedering, a prolific writer and artist, died at her home in Sagaponack on Saturday. She was 68 years old.

To say that Siv Cedering was prolific is to state the obvious. After all, hadn't she authored 18 books, illustrated four children's books, composed music, written lyrics and screenplays? In Siv's case, however, the word "prolific" goes well beyond its ordinary meaning. It also connotes the creation of varied art forms: fiction, poetry, musical composition, and illustration. But most importantly, "prolific" means more than quantity and diversity. It signifies extraordinary insight about human nature, the world. Life. And the generosity of spirit to share that insight with family, friends and colleagues. The world.

The fact that Siv could incorporate her many art forms, insights and passions into a body of work showed that for her, perhaps, everything was part of everything else. For example, a random sampling of her poems in Letters From an Observatory: New and Selected poems 1973-1998 often used motifs inspired by music (in "Two Stanzas" and "Turning"), theatre and literature (in "Turning").

Siv's attachment to her family was another passion, notably in her poetry, novels and a particular short story, "Family Album." Her family memories are not ordinary by any stretch of the imagination, however, as she celebrates her Swedish heritage and traditions over the course of several generations. Even though she left her native Sweden for San Francisco at age 14, each family experience is savored, cherished, blessed by the life lessons it imparts.

And although it may sound like a cliché, there's universality to Siv's family memories. Her Tora and Uncle Karl and Aunt Edith were mine as well: they were my Auntie Lil and Uncle Martin and Tanta Riffkah. Simply put, Siv made us feel a part of her own family.

So did her novel The Oxen, which was made into a movie directed by Ingmar Bergman's brilliant cinematographer, Sven Nykvist. I will never forget the stunning details of time and place that the film conveyed.

While The Oxen was nominated for an Academy Award in 1992, Siv has garnered other important prizes from the Poetry Society of America and Pushcart Publications. Ultimately, however, Siv leaves her own memories, especially her feelings about life and death. From her poetry book Letters From An Observatory, she writes, "so that when your arms unloosen their lock at midnight and I begin to drift off, I startle awake for a moment in the midwinter room and mumble, 'Do you smell it? Spring.'"

Siv Cedering is survived by her husband, sculptor Hans Van de Bovenkamp, her three children and two stepchildren, and her nine grandchildren. A memorial service will be held on Friday, November 23 at Yardley and Pino in East Hampton at 2 p.m.