Paul Peterson, a Montauk resident, could have won a million dollars in a Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes in the early 1980s, but he threw away the envelope without opening it. Like most of the garbage thrown out in those days, it was buried in one of the East Hampton Town landfills, presumably forever.

It resurfaced last fall, though, intact. Mr. Peterson, now a payloader operator, uncovered it himself during an archeological-type dig at the landfills.

The Town Board hired the company he works for, Grimes Contracting, to dig test pits in the landfills, two off Springs-Fireplace Road in East Hampton and one off Montauk Point State Boulevard. The pits would help determine whether it would make sense, financially and environmentally, to mine out the recyclable materials buried there since the early 1960s.

Mining Or Capping

The alternative is to build permanent caps over the mounds and monitor them in perpetuity for methane and groundwater contamination.

Either capping or mining is mandatory, but it is not known yet which would be cheaper. Engineers say a cap would be guaranteed to fail within 20 years, requiring costly repairs.

Mining the recyclables, trucking the remaining trash to an incinerator, and using the soil and gravel found in the dumps to reclaim the land would eliminate the monitoring costs and environmental scars that landfills present.

New Perspective

Mr. Peterson's payloader scooped up his discarded sweepstakes ticket with a load of sand and trash. Debbie Grimes, who periodically checked on the digging, screening, and separating operation for her family's company, happened to be there the day it was spotted on a screening machine.

"It was amazing to me that when the bags were ripped open, the garbage looked exactly the same as when it was thrown in. It gave me a whole new perspective on garbage," she said.

No Papers

At the deepest core of one pit the diggers found a perfectly preserved copy of Newsday from 1963. Newspapers, in various degrees of decomposition, were found layered throughout all three cells. Mysteriously, though, there were almost none in the Montauk landfill in layers thought to date from the late 1960s.

Clearly, Montauk residents weren't throwing newspapers out with the trash in those days, though the engineers analyzing the contents of the test pits aren't sure why, John Wingate of Fanning, Phillips, and Molnar told the Town Board on Jan. 3, when the Ronkonkoma-based firm presented its first round of findings.

Perhaps the papers were being burned in fireplaces and wood stoves, he told the board, or maybe the fishing was good and wrappers were needed, he joked later on.

In any case, the landfills revealed themselves to be truly rural and fairly benign in character - small-town dumps containing small-town garbage - which would certainly influence what happens to them in the future, Mr. Wingate said.

Like all landfills, though, they are not going to disappear on their own, no matter how much decomposable material they contain.

Plastic garbage bags, which appeared on the market sometime in the early 1970s, do not decompose. The diggers easily spotted the first layer of bags - garbage was land-filled in layers, separated by a covering of sand and soil - hanging down the sides of the pits like shabby garlands.

Mostly Sand And Soil

The engineers' breakdown show ed 64 percent of the two East Hampton cells and 75 percent of the Montauk cell was composed of sand and soil, which could be reused at little or no cost. The State Department of Environmental Conservation, concerned about contaminants, would most likely limit the reuse to one site or to another landfill.

"It looks like a nice topsoil. You could probably sell it, if the D.E.C. allowed you to," Kevin Phillips, a partner in the engineering firm, said. Supervisor Cathy Lester suggested it could be run through the nearby composting plant "and sterilized."

Various forms of metal, the only other material that could be recycled easily and cheaply, were estimated to represent less than 2 percent of the cells' contents.

The rest of the trash would most likely have to be trucked to an incinerator, the engineers advised, including the plastic bags and other forms of plastic, which were figured at about 3 percent of the mounds off Springs-Fireplace Road and about 4 percent of the Montauk cell.

Clear Of Toxins

Altogether, at each landfill, Grimes Contracting dug eight 20-foot-deep test pits and removed 2,400 cubic yards of material. All of it was put through a series of screens and conveyor belts that separated the sand and soil from heavier gravel.

Samples of the mined materials were sent to an independent lab, and tested clear of toxins, which could otherwise have called an abrupt halt to the mining idea and may have pointed to capping as the safest solution.

Odor, a lesser standard in the test, was "pretty strong" when the top third of the pits was being processed, but disappeared farther down, where moisture and subsequent putrefaction had ceased to exist.

The diggers got only one complaint, said Mr. Wingate, and that was from an Accabonac Highway resident whose house was in the path of "a steady northwest wind" for a couple of days straight.

D.E.C. Will Decide

While the Town Board must decide for itself whether mining is financially worth the trouble, the D.E.C. will have the final say.

The D.E.C. approved the mining study several years ago, but a lawsuit between the town and the agency over the permanent shutdown of the landfills delayed its start.

The State Energy Research Development Agency has given a $58,000 grant to the cause. The town borrowed the rest of the roughly $265,000 expense.

The D.E.C. recognized mining as a possible alternative to capping about nine years ago, and several feasibility studies like the one here have been done since then. Generally, the findings in other towns have been promising.

A pilot study in upstate Edinburg indicated its landfill was half soil, and presumably could be reduced by at least half. Hague, also upstate, had similar findings, and has begun a full-scale reclamation as a result.

But Carol Hanson, an owner of East Hampton Landscaping on Springs-Fireplace Road, asked the engineers Friday how, when Edinburg found it cost-prohibitive to mine the deepest part of its landfill, East Hampton could make it work.

Dr. Phillips said the cost analysis was coming, and Supervisor Lester said that, like Edinburg, the town could decide to mine just part of the landfills.

Nowhere To Go

Capping, the other alternative, has been estimated to cost more than $25 million, plus a considerable, though as yet unknown, amount per year to monitor the mounds for methane and groundwater contamination.

Mr. Wingate said his office was still at work on those figures.

Mining, he said, would take about five years, while capping could be completed in about two.

The pair of mountains in East Hampton measure about 2.5 million cubic yards altogether and the one in Montauk about 820,000 cubic yards, said Mr. Wingate.

They began as trenches that were eventually filled, leaving sanitation workers nowhere to go but up.

More than half of East Hampton's year-round residents - 57 percent - have no insurance and are not eligible for Medicaid, according to Edna Steck, the town's director of human services. They need affordable medical care that only the County Health Department can provide through its clinics.

Mrs. Steck appealed last week for the former East Hampton Day Care facility on Cedar Street, soon to be vacant, to be converted to a medical clinic. The land belongs to the East Hampton School District, and the day care center has said it would donate the buildings.

On hand to support Mrs. Steck's plea to the East Hampton School Board were East Hampton Town Supervisor Cathy Lester, Dr. John J. Ferry, Jr., president of Southampton Hospital, Dr. Donald F. Bruhn, medical director of the county's Riverhead and Southampton clinics, Diane Mercieca of the South Fork Community Health Initiative, and Matthew Grady, executive director of the East End AIDS Wellness Project, who said the AIDS clinic off Route 114 will need to move within weeks, as its building has been sold to the Ross School.

Mr. Grady suggested the Cedar Street facility be renovated and shared by the county, the AIDS center, and Planned Parenthood, which rents part of a limited county clinic on Montauk Highway in Amagansett. Ms. Lester reported it would take just $40,000 to make the three portable buildings usable, according to town engineers.

The Amagansett clinic is "overloaded," Dianne Astorr, the nurse at East Hampton High School, told the School Board, and the Cedar Street location would be "good for those 12 years old and up."

But Robert Peters, a neighbor, said traffic "would be a nightmare. I'm surprised that the Supervisor would be so calloused as to put this in the middle of a [residential] neighborhood."

The new East Hampton Children's Museum has also asked to use the property. Both groups may be disappointed, however. Noel McStay, the District Superintendent, has said he may recommend razing the buildings and keeping the land for future district use.

After almost a quarter-century of providing prenatal care to low-income East End women and delivering their babies at Southampton Hospital, the physicians at Hamptons Gynecology and Obstetrics in Southampton have refused to renew their contract with the Suffolk County satellite clinic next door.

Some 150 pregnant patients have been told they will have to travel to Brookhaven Memorial Hospital in Patchogue instead, where the doctors who now provide the clinic's prenatal care are on staff.

One of those women, who requested anonymity, lives in East Hampton Town.

"This is my first public health experience," she said, explaining that she had recently fallen on hard times. Six months pregnant with her third child, she said that when labor pains start, it could take her more than an hour to reach Brookhaven Hospital.

"Not In That Place"

The Southampton obstetricians stopped working at the clinic as of Dec. 31, according to one of them, Dr. Allen Ott, because the facility is "not a professional space."

The East Hampton woman said the clinic was "disgusting" and "filthy." Paper diapers are "stuffed into cracks in the windows," she said. She said the facility offered no privacy - and added that she knew "half a dozen names of people who have TB on the East End," whose cases she claimed to have overheard being discussed.

Brookhaven is "pretty far" from the East End, Dr. Ott acknowledged.

"We'd be happy to consider providing the county with our services," he said, "just not in that place. It's like stepping back into the 1940s." He said he had been talking with county officials for "several years" about moving.

Muddy Waters

Dr. Mary E. Hibberd, Suffolk Commissioner of Health since 1991, also wants clinic patients treated in a more suitable space. She escorted a reporter around the facility this week, where 50-year-old floor tiles were pulling up from examining-room subfloors, and where, because room partitions do not reach the ceilings, a resounding sneeze elicited a "Bless you!" from several rooms away.

Water stains were visible in the ceilings throughout the 3,500-square-foot space, and in many rooms, rags were stuffed in the walls to block drafts around air-conditioning units.

The floors were muddy. In one bathroom, Carol Lunt, a nurse-practitioner, leaned down to pick up papers and wipe the floor tiles to demonstrate how they are cleaned most days. A cleaning woman, Ms. Lunt noted, comes once a week.

"Antediluvian"

As long ago as 1993, said Dr. Hibberd, she brought County Executive Robert E. Gaffney to the clinic, housed in the Schenck building in the Southampton Hospital parking lot, to see the less than acceptable conditions. It is owned and maintained by Southampton Hospital.

Calling it "antediluvian - a historical anachronism not appropriate for renovation," Dr. John J. Ferry Jr., the hospital president, said, "If I had my druthers, I'd take it down and add new parking."

The clinic contains an expansive waiting area with examining rooms surrounding it. It "is not anybody's idea of luxury," Dr. Ferry said, "but, frankly, I've seen a lot worse."

Two-thirds of the space is occupied by the clinic and the remainder by the hospital's human resources department, which, by contrast, was repainted, recarpeted, and refurnished in September. The basement is used for hospital storage.

Spanish-Speaking Clientele

In his three years as hospital president, Dr. Ferry said, he has "heard that the county was going to move the clinic," and decided therefore that renovating it was "not a priority."

"A month or two ago," he asserted, he asked for a list of "things that need to be done," but has heard nothing.

Ms. Lunt, the nurse-practitioner, said that of the 175 pregnant women for whom the clinic provided prenatal care last year, more than half came from Bridgehampton and points east. More than 40 percent are Hispanic.

"A good percentage" of those women do not speak English, said Ms. Lunt, who speaks Spanish and is often called upon to interpret for the obstetricians.

Satisfied Patients?

Dr. Hibberd maintained that while the clinic's physical conditions were unsatisfactory, the "O.B. services are excellent."

She said the low-birth-weight rate at the clinic last year was .7 percent, down from 2 percent the year before. The countywide average is 7 percent, she said.

The patients are "satisfied" with the care they receive, she added.

Among the sites the county is considering for the clinic, according to Dr. Ott, are the Flying Point office building on Flying Point Road in Southampton and one of the physicians' office complexes near the hospital.

Space Costs

Dr. Ott estimated the cost of medical space in Southampton at between $20 and $25 a square foot, but thought the county was willing to spend only about half that. The county pays about $2,000 a month to Southampton Hospital.

Jeffrey Martell, an architect in the county's Public Works Department who finds privately owned space for county agencies to lease, declined to be held to a price, saying "everything is negotiable," and there were a lot of variables, such as who renovates the space.

Mr. Martell did say negotiations were under way with owners of at least two buildings, and that he expected to make a presentation "by February" for review by the County Health Department, the County Executive, and the County Legislature.

Making Arrangements

Meanwhile, the Southampton obstetricians have offered East End mothers-to-be the option of being treated in their private offices and arranging with Southampton Hospital to have their babies delivered there. Both the obstetricians and the hospital accept Medicaid, the insurance for low-income families.

In special instances, Dr. Ferry said delivery arrangements could be made through programs such as Hill Burton, which helps low-income patients in small communities obtain free or low-cost medical care.

County officials were reluctant to say why it has taken so long to find suitable space for the clinic. Paul O'Brien, the county's director of health administrative services, said he hoped to move it to a new building "later this year," but that approval for a new lease and any renovations will need the approval of the Suffolk Legislature.

'Space And Staff'

Rick Belyea, a spokesman for Mr. Gaffney, acknowledged that "it has been a long time. This is a very tedious - and that's polite - process." Mr. Belyea said the problem was "a space matter and a staff matter" that he called "crucial now."

In a Dec. 19, 1996, letter to Dr. John E. Hunt Jr. of Hampton Gynecology and Obstetrics, County Executive Gaffney appeared to reiterate Suffolk's commitment to a better clinic.

"My office is committed to finding and leasing new, more suitable, space . . . to improve both the work environment for staff and the clinical accommodations for patients," he wrote.

"Our staffing is not the issue," said Dr. Ott, whose office is expected to bring in an additional physician on July 1. "The patients will be inconvenienced, and we did not want that to happen."

Ferry: It Won't Close

Dr. Donald Bruhn, the clinic's director, himself an obstetrician, declined to comment.

Southampton Hospital's board of directors "would consider" helping the clinic with some funds, Dr. Ferry said, while noting that it was under no obligation to do so.

He dismissed any idea that the county would close the clinic, as was suggested in a Long Island Regional Planning Board report last year that advocated consolidating county clinics such as the Southampton facility, which is a satellite of the Riverhead Health Clinic, to save money.

The Southampton clinic counted 6,200 patient visits last year, including pediatric and adult patients, besides obstetrics. Hamptons Gynecology and Obstetrics received a $21,000 management fee to provide the prenatal and obstetrical care, and about $900 per delivery.

The Answer

Kew Gardens

January 10, 1997

Dear Helen:

Looks like I'm numero uno once again! I have taken up the Alec Baldwin challenge (letters, East Hampton Star, Jan. 9) and daftly (sic) unscrambled the identity of "Bric Upstult." Yes, good readers, the answer is "Pubic Rust"! (Oops, sorry, Alec, must've mislaid an "l" and a "t" somewhere along the boat ride on the bay.)

Cheers and sokolom,

DONALD MARKS

Power, Profit, Greed

Sag Harbor

January 10, 1997

To The Editor,

Former President Ronald Reagan said it and really meant it: "Let's run government like big business. It would become more efficient."

Now, big business runs government and our lives, too. Corporate heads sit down with our Representatives and help legislate whatever they need or desire on our behalf. How ludicrous and how profitable.

In 1996, campaign spending reached a record high: $600 million. Lobbyists had a free-for-all. Favors of every stripe. For ordinary people we call it bribery and send them to prison. Inside the Beltway, it's known as immunity, immunity from prosecution. On the Presidential level, anything goes. And we have the gall to call people on welfare cheaters. How ludicrous! "The policies of the powerful, the scourge of the helpless."

Why are we so shocked and surprised? This is capitalism at its very best, a system of economics based on power, profit, and greed. Once considered our sacred cow, now exposed as nothing more than idolatry - the god of money - its very symbol ($) the dollar sign. Now we pay the price.

LARRY DARCEY

Please address correspondence to [email protected]

I think of myself as a reasonably modern woman, so why, I wonder, do I continue to be shocked at anything at all? However, just last week I happened to mention M.F.K. Fisher to a woman in publishing who had never even heard of our greatest gastronomic writer in American literature.

It wasn't as if I'd mentioned some of our finest food writers who have fallen into almost complete oblivion, like Joseph Wechsberg, Samuel Chamberlain, Alice B. Toklas, Clementine Paddleford, A. J. Liebling, or even the great Waverly Root - a sorry state of affairs to be sure.

But where in the name of Sweet Jesus can literacy in America be headed when a great writer not three years dead is already forgotten!

Or, worse yet, never been heard of.

This of course sent me straight to my Mary Frances Kennedy Fisher collection to refresh my soul and try to atone for those who view that monumental fraud "The Frugal Gourmet" for cookery advice which ranges from trite to bad.

For those who do not wish to cook or can't read, there are the lavish picture books which at least improve the table settings for catered or take-out food.

M.F.K. Fisher - now there's a food writer who charms you right into the kitchen with her skillful anecdotes, poetry quotations, playful musings, or thoughts on such things as "Love and Death Among the Molluscs."

It was just at this point that my copy of "The Art of Eating," her collected works, opened. I had tucked a letter from her (I had the good fortune to be among her friends), dated March 1977, at that spot.

The "Molluscs" chapter begins: "An oyster leads a dreadful but exciting life."

Oyster stew is a quintessentially American specialty, from Maine to the tidewaters of Georgia.

"Indeed, his chance to live at all is slim, and if he should survive the arrows of his own outrageous fortune and in the two weeks of his carefree youth find a clean smooth place to fix on, the years afterwards are full of stress, passion, and danger. . . . Those two weeks are his one taste of vagabondage, of devil-may-care free roaming. And even they are not quite free, for during all his youth he is busy growing a strong foot and a large supply of sticky cement-like stuff. If he thought, he might wonder why. . . . Our spat has been lucky, and in great good spirits he clamps himself firmly to his home, probably forever. He is by now about one-seventy-fifth of an inch long, whatever that may be . . . and he is an oyster."

He Becomes A She

"If he is a Chincoteague, or a Lynhaven maybe, he has found a pleasant, moderately salty bottom, where the tides wash regularly and there is no filth to pollute him and no sand to choke him."

Mrs. Fisher once or twice summered in Sag Harbor and sometimes visited her ex-husband's widow, Eleanor Friede, who lived in Bridgehampton, so, though she was a Californian, she knew the Atlantic Coast oysters.

"For about a year, this oyster - our oyster - is a male, fertilizing a few hundred thousand eggs as best he can without ever knowing whether they swim by or not. Then one day, maternal longings surge between his two valves in his cold guts and gills and all his crinkly fringes. Necessity, that well-known mother, makes him one. He is a she."

Oyster-Opening

"From then on she, with occasional vacations of being masculine just to keep her hand in, bears her millions yearly. She is in the full bloom of womanhood when she is about seven."

Now when you consider the oyster, as M.F. did so movingly, are you not impelled to do something about all the effort this little spat has put into becoming the delicious mollusc he-or-she could be on your dinner plate or floating voluptuously in your creamy bowl of stew?

From time to time I re-learn how to open oysters - just so that I can have some at my disposal when a midnight attack of oyster-craving comes on. (It's in my DNA - my father was a midnight oyster stew man.)

Don't Feel Bad

Unfortunately, my resolve to keep some on hand falters all too often and, being oysterless, I lose my facility. It's the same with clam-shucking - or omelet-making, for that matter. There are some skills that definitely are not like riding a bicycle.

Get your oyster knife into the front hinge-end of the oyster and pry up, holding the wide end down with a heavy glove.

Don't feel too bad about it. Were it not you, prying it out at the peak of perfection, a relentless starfish or screw-borer or some other of the poor oyster's many predators would slowly suck the life out of it.

Oyster Stew

Most Europeans consider cooking an oyster - any oyster of any size - a desecration. But I doubt oysters were as plentiful there, at least for the last couple of centuries, as they were in those pristine waters the Pilgrims landed in and continued to feed from for generations.

Oyster stew is a quintessentially American, specifically Atlantic, specialty, from Maine to the tidewaters of Georgia. Big fat wild oysters from Three Mile Harbor, Blue Point, or Robins Island - if you can resist eating them long enough to get them into this stew - make a splendiferous supper for two on a cold winter night.

Eat it with thick slices of hot buttered toast.

20 large, fat, fresh oysters, just opened

The liquor from the oysters

3 cups whole milk

1 Tbsp. fresh chopped parsley

2 Tbsp. unsalted butter, cut in cubes

1/2 tsp. fresh Hungarian paprika

Salt to taste

Splash of dry sherry

Open the oysters over a bowl to catch their liquor and reserve both separately. In a heavy saucepan bring the milk and oyster liquor almost to the simmer, drop in the parsley and oysters, then swirl in the butter and paprika. When the oysters' edges begin to ruffle - this happens almost instantly - taste, add salt, and dish up in hot bowls. Splash a bit of sherry into each serving.

Fried Oysters

While this may sound like a contradiction in terms, it is not only possible, but one of the most delicious oyster dishes I've ever had. The idea for it came to me at a tempura bar, where the oysters were served, crisp and hot but juicy, in a paper boat. This is an intimate dish, for it must be prepared so quickly it's almost a solitary pleasure. It can be managed for two, however.

2 cups creamed spinach (recipe to follow):

1 pkg. frozen spinach, thawed and chopped

3 Tbsp. butter

2 tsp. onion, finely chopped

2 Tbsp. flour

1/8 tsp. mace or nutmeg

1/8 tsp. coarsely ground pepper

Salt

1 Tbsp. Pernod

1 cup hot milk

1 dozen large, fresh oysters in their shells

1 cup dry cracker crumbs

1 quart clean fresh vegetable oil

Lemon wedges

Make the creamed spinach: Melt the butter in a small, heavy saucepan and gently saute the onions until transparent. Stir in the flour and cook briefly. Stir in the spices and salt to taste, add hot milk, and cook until smooth. Squeeze the spinach fairly dry and stir that and the Pernod into the sauce. Set aside.

Open the oysters, reserving the liquor. On the deep bottom shell, heated in the oven, put a spoonful of hot creamed spinach. Roll the oysters in cracker crumbs, fry them about one minute, and place one lightly on top of each filled shell. Serve at once with a few thin wedges of lemon.

The Hamptons International Film Festival has scheduled another free screening of "Not in Our Town," a film detailing how the community of Billings, Mont., banded together to oppose racist hate groups that had moved into their town.

Jacqui Lofaro, president of the League of Women Voters of the Hamptons, will lead a panel discussion following the film. The third in a series of screenings designed to help spread the film's anti-hate message, it will take place in the Southampton High School auditorium on Sunday beginning at 3 p.m.

The film shows how, after swastikas were painted on a Jewish resident's house, a local painters union set to work; how, when a group of skinheads began attending an African American church in an act of intimidation, groups of residents of all races began attending as well; how, when houses with Chanukah menorahs in their windows were targeted by rock-throwers, the candelabras went up in the windows of many neighboring houses in an act of solidarity.

A discussion of racism in East Hampton, which was characterized as both overt and insidious, followed a Guild Hall screening of the film last month. East Hampton residents, members of the clergy and the East Hampton Town Disabilities Advisory Board, Audrey Gaines, the town director of youth services, and East Hampton High School students all spoke at that forum.

A double-barreled, twin-gifted, cross-creative artist is as unique as a talking horse or, for that matter, a bimaculate Dalmatian.

Yes, Michelangelo was a poet as well as an artist, and Blake the reverse. But such dual talents are rare, and often rarefied. (As the devoted Mrs. Blake put it, "I have very little of Mr. Blake's company; he is always in Paradise.")

Star Black (named for her mother's first love, who died in World War II) is a photographer and poet who lives in Sag Harbor and New York City, and one of the few contemporary artists with parallel visual and verbal avocations. There was Zero Mostel, the actor and painter, but he has died; not many others come to mind.

Word-Dazzling

There seemed, at first, to be nothing rarefied about Ms. Black. On a recent rainy day she greeted a visitor with a hearty handshake and a mug of coffee, a fire blazing on her cozy hearth.

A practitioner in one of the helping professions, one might have guessed: the warm welcome and the booming laugh.

A perusal of two recent volumes of her verse, "Waterworn" and "Double Time," points down another path, however. Here is a poet of irrepressible intellect and dazzling vocabulary, a passionate woman head-over-heels in love with words and wordplay, and not one to quail at the verbal challenges of the loftiest poetic forms.

Diabolical Doubles

"Waterworn," for example, consists of 91 unrhymed and often slangy sonnets, neither Petrarchan nor Shakespearean but "Americanese," she said with a smile.

And as if the sonnet weren't a sufficiently demanding convention, "Double Time" takes a bravura leap into the double sestina - "the Mount McKinley of poetic forms," the critic Herbert Leibowitz called it - 63 pages of them.

A sestina (who knew?) comprises six six-line stanzas and a three-line envoy, each stanza repeating the end words of the first-stanza lines, but in a different order. The envoy uses the six words again, three in the middle of its lines and three at the end.

Got it?

Not content to tackle this diabolical 17th-century conceit in its original form, Ms. Black has raised the hurdles not only by doubling the number of lines in each stanza, but also by imposing a fixed pentagonal shape on them, an added stricture all her own.

Flying Stanzas

"The form is enjoying a current vogue," Ms. Black said. "Poetry editors are throwing up their hands and crying, 'Oh no! Not another double sestina!' But nobody else has shaped stanzas."

Is this trend toward the embellishment of an already elaborate form tipping poetry over into pedantry, a reader may well ask? And if so, is it "the sort of pedantry up with which [we] will not put," as Churchill famously remarked?

A glance at Ms. Black's work, the nifty flight and bounce of it, will reassure the diffident reader, but only partially. He or she must also agree to go along for the emotional rollercoaster ride.

"Tsunami And So On"

Here are the opening lines of "Tsunami And So On," an hommage to the prize-bedecked John Ashbery, her poetry teacher at Brooklyn College and a continuing mentor. (A tsunami is a huge wave caused by an undersea volcanic eruption, an allusion to Mr. Ashbery's long poem "A Wave.")

Gee willikers, John, here we are in the strumbled dawn

making voices, you the melodious mentor at sea, craned and

careened toward snowcaps, dangerously indefinite and assured,

guaranteed to spot whirlpooled birds and swoop them out of the blue

implosion before the final peep is heard, before foot-falls of a scowling

god liquefy their downy flutterings, and I, derivative as a lonely cloud,

unstrung from desire indefinitely, tuckered out, silent, shy. . . .

Experimental Vigor

"Yes, 'strumbled' is a coinage," Ms. Black said. "I had the option of using an obscure word like 'scrumpled' to describe the dawn, but my editor, Rosanne Wasserman, the publisher of Groundwater Press, said, 'No, keep strumbled, it's you!' So suddenly I had this newfound confidence to go with it, and I did."

This permission to trust what comes out of left field exemplifies the poet David Lehman's theory, published in The Boston Globe, that "an up-to-speed idiom can freshen up a traditional formal structure."

"The experimental methods of composition pioneered by the New York poets have not lost their freshness and vigor," he wrote, "and their conception of what a poem might be and do seems as liberated for poets now as when [Frank] O'Hara wrote the first of his 'I do this I do that' poems."

Professional Photographer

Ms. Black is also a professional photographer whose illustrations for Sharon De Lano and David Rieff's "Texas Boots" (Viking/Penguin) won a National Book Award nomination for photography in 1982.

Her photographs have appeared on the covers of The New York Times Sunday Magazine, News week, and American Poetry Review, and in Alice Gordon and Vincent Virga's coffee-table book "Summer."

A former staff photographer with United Press International, she now earns her living as a freelancer. Through the years her work has also appeared in New York magazine, Vanity Fair, Avenue, and other publications, as well as in The Times - usually spreads about parties, benefits, and galas.

Her photos have also been used in publications issued by the Museum of Modern Art and the Guggenheim and Whitney Museums.

Art Of The Streets

Recently, to dispel a lingering depression, she branched out, taking one camera and one lens - no lights - on walks through the streets of various American cities. Her compelling views of street art - graffiti, posters pasted over posters, sticker art, murals, theater ads, all the city's ephemeral communications - are gathered into two collections: "City Collage" and "Downtown Doors."

The eldest of six children, Ms. Black is an Army brat who was born on a naval base in Coronado, Calif. Her father, a career officer, moved his family first to Paris, where she attended kindergarten, then to Washington, D.C., and Hawaii, where she "ran wild on the beautiful beaches, swimming, surfing, and water-skiing with my boyfriend Hoagy."

Her mother wrote interviews for newspapers, and her grandmother was an English teacher. The house was full of books, and poetry became her daily bread.

About-Face

After graduating with a B.A. in English from Wellesley College, Ms. Black, who had traveled extensively in Asia, got a job teaching English in Thailand.

A love affair with a photographer led to a collaboration on a "Guide to Bali," he doing the pictures and she the text. It was followed by guides to Singapore and Malaysia.

She fell in love with a writer next, and in a career about-face and with her new knowledge of cameras became the photographer for "Indonesia: A Voyage Through the Archipelago," and "A Day in the Life of Hawaii."

"Writing was my love, but photography turned out to be my job," Ms. Black said. "It's a lot easier, and the deadline is built in to the event: When it's over, you're done, while the writer struggles on and on."

Ashbery's Workshop

She missed writing, however. After she moved to New York in the early '80s, friendships with the poets Daniel Halpern and Mr. Lehman, and the critic Marjorie Perloff, rekindled her desire to pursue what Wallace Stevens called "the gaudiness of poetry."

But it was especially the National Book Award-winner Paul Monette, her friend and advocate of 30 years, now dead of AIDS, who encouraged her to bite the bullet and apply to Mr. Ashbery's workshop.

"I studied with John for four years," Ms. Black said, "galvanized by this introduction to the New York School and New York art. He didn't say much; he was just there."

"I basked in his magnetic field, and in doing the weird assignments he said you didn't have to do unless you wanted to: Look at de Chirico, write like Raymond Rousseau, translate from a language you don't understand, write an amateurish poem, write an adult poem in a childish mode, look at Max Ernst."

Writers' Grants

She went on to study briefly with Joseph Brodsky, and with Derek Walcott, Galway Kinnell, Alfred Korn, and other poets until, she said, she "had to cut loose." She applied for and won the first of many fellowships, this one to the Ragdale Foundation in Chicago.

"I felt challenged to write on my own, and to write in forms: in pantoums and sonnets and sestinas. At first it felt like following a knitting pattern, but then I suddenly caught on. I got it! I released this whole barrage of language with lines that ended correctly, like weaving a blanket with words."

Since then, Ms. Black has alternated working in New York with stays at writers' colonies and workshops around the country. Her poems have appeared in The American Poetry Review, Ploughshares, and Boulevard, among other magazines.

The World Works

"[Black's] . . . ironic self-consciousness never deserts her, and a breathless sense of romantic possibility charges her lines," Mr. Lehman wrote.

"Poems . . . radically envisioned - where the world is turned around, made wildly clear, and made to work," said the poet Lawrence Joseph.

Of late she has been trying to merge her visual and verbal sensibilities in surreal collages that superimpose faded photographs of architectural relics and snippets of sentences and bodily features - smiles, wedding-ringed fingers - on old maps and dictionary pages.

"This is like the playpen all over again, but it gives me great visual pleasure," she said. "Who knows if it will survive? I just keep going and let it teach me."

She gave one of her broad smiles and booming laughs. "I got up on New Year's Day and went straight to it. I got a big kick and it made me happy. What more can you ask?"

One gets the impression, as Guild Hall skips toward the millennium, that it has swapped its Mary Janes for a pair of Air Jordans.

With public funding for the arts diminished and arts institutions scrambling to replace it, the Hall is happy to report that 1996 was financially its best year ever.

"I've been through three cycles of programming," said Henry Korn, who is embarking on his fourth year as Guild Hall's director, "and there's no doubt, both in terms of audience response and financially, that last year was by far the most successful."

Attendance was up 25 percent - 35 percent for summer programs in the John Drew Theater - and the institution not only balanced its $1.5 million budget, but ended the year with a surplus.

Good Start

Further good news is that the 1997 fund-raising season got off to a good start, he said. The Academy of the Arts Awards dinner grossed $425,000, an increase of $100,000 over last year.

"Clearly the environment for nonprofit institutions has gone through some drastic changes," Mr. Korn said, "and Guild Hall has shown it has the flexibility to respond to this new environment."

Because it is financially secure, a long-term plan is under way to create administrative office space in the building's attics. This would free street-level space for such uses as a small performing facility for experimental theater and a high school theater program. There would also be space for activities for young people.

Grolsch Fallout

Some 4,000 theatergoers attended the popular Grolsch concerts last summer. They were organized by Delsener/Slater Enterprises and, for the most part, were attended by the younger crowd Guild Hall has been after for some time. Mr. Korn said the concerts had a spinoff effect in creating stronger audiences for the rest of the summer.

Ron Delsener, an East Hampton resident, will bring back the Grolsch concerts, Mr. Korn said, along the lines of last summer's offerings. Although there are no names yet, the challenge is to bring big stars here at small prices, he said.

Another challenge that Guild Hall is hoping to meet this summer is the co-production with a New England arts institution of an all-Equity original musical comedy.

A Premiere?

"That's going to be an adventure," said Mr. Korn, adding only that the book was about American political life and that the author and composer were "veterans." The Drew stage also will host a non-Equity performance of a contemporary comedy in the summer.

In the visual arts, "Women and Abstract Expressionism" will be the first major show of the season, curated by Joan Marder of Baruch College. The exhibit will try "to redress the neglect of some of the women artists" of the era. The following one-person shows, which remain to be formalized, also will feature controversial artists, Mr. Korn promised.

August will bring the big art show of the year and one that promises to be a crowd-puller: "Childe Hassam in East Hampton."

Hassam And Moran

The exhibit was planned partly in response to what Mr. Korn sees as an increasing interest in East Hampton's past, and a need to gather a sense of the history of a place that is changing rapidly. A little further into the future is an exhibit on the artwork of Thomas Moran and members of his family.

The literary front this year "will be as good as last, if not better," promised Mr. Korn, with some national and international writers cutting across the literary disciplines.

There also will be a French film series in August, children's programs, music, cabaret, and, it is hoped, appearances by former Academy of the Arts awards recipients.

Coming Up Soon

The first undertakings of the year will be the student arts festival, which this year will have more emphasis on the performing arts, and the annual members show, both popular community events.

The theater will see the remainder of CTC Theater Live's programming: Sam Shepard's "True West" and Cole Porter's "Anything Goes." The group's production of Irwin Shaw's "Bury the Dead" opens tomorrow for a three-weekend run.

"What a difference a year makes. This time last year the museum was closed as an austerity measure; yesterday the museum was full of children watching the wonderful Catskill Puppets and then pouring out into the galleries to see our Puppet Show," he said.

Mr. Korn hopes that eventually every major museum show will have a "discovery experience" for children. "We'd very much like to offer, especially to the very youngest, a hands-on experience in their own space," he said.

Abolish N.E.A.

Mr. Korn's thoughts then turned to public funding. Expressing concern that an economic downturn could cut off "the private sector support we've worked so hard to obtain," he said he thought the time had come to "give some serious thought to the abolition of the National Endowment for the Arts, since it has been successfully demonized. From my perspective, it would be preferable to begin again."

Mr. Korn had been among a coalition of East End arts leaders who lobbied last year to keep arts funding secure. The battle was ineffective. With the unstoppable momentum of any large bureaucratic institution, the N.E.A. keeps on churning out press releases, but as to its primary function of arts funding "it's become a question of triage. And just how many arms and legs can you cut off and still function effectively?" he asked.

The time had come, he said, for the profession to consider what might replace the N.E.A. as a more effective structure for the support of the arts.

"The leadership in Washington just hasn't got involved in the arts," he said, "but with the N.E.A. out of the way, the White House might become involved in the nation's cultural life again."

January, as all good shoppers know, is one of the year's best months for bargain-hunting, and this January could turn out to be the best of the best, at least for residents of Suffolk and Nassau Counties and of New York City.

To help boost sales during a traditionally slow retail period, the State Legislature, together with the County Legislatures and the New York City Council, has waived sales taxes for one week, starting Saturday, on personal clothing or shoe purchases up to $500. That could translate into instant savings of more than $40 for shoppers who actually need what they buy, and a windfall, it is hoped, for shopkeepers.

This is one government action that nobody would want to oppose. (And a good place to start is right here in The Star, on our "January Sales" pages.)

Even without the Governor's proposals in the last week, the quality of education in the state was very much on the public's mind following the release from the State Department of Education of a crush of paper called school report cards.

According to State Education Commissioner Richard Mills, the purpose of the reports, the first of their kind in New York State, was to raise the public's consciousness about how their districts stand up against comparable districts and to push for higher student achievement.

Filled with Regents rankings and bar graphs and pass-fail rates on standardized elementary-level math and reading tests, among others, the cumbersome documents recap data presented to school boards last summer.

If nothing else, Mary Ann Awad, the project coordinator, said, the reports had prompted more public discussion about student performance than she had heard in 17 years at the department.

While that is desirable, the public's ability to assess the meaning of their districts' report cards was undermined by the very department that went to so much trouble to produce them. The department released the reports to the school districts three weeks before allowing the public to review them. That gave tacit encouragement to school administrators to massage the numbers and present the best spin.

More substantively, the comparison of "similar districts" did not work adequately. It would have been more appropriate, many say, to compare East Hampton, for example, with Southampton, than with districts UpIsland with different populations.

The reports contained some bad news on the issue of subject "mastery." The state says an 85 or better score on Regents tests indicates mastery, a score that so far has proved elusive for the majority of test-takers. In addition, the number of elementary school students testing above the minimum standard, below which remedial help becomes necessary, showed a "disturbing trend," the Commissioner said, although the state is somewhat skeptical of the tests used and is revising them.

Beyond that, the report cards provide a way, in the Commissioner's words, for districts to re-evaluate how they "grow from here" and "what actually works." In East Hampton, there is talk now of mandatory tutoring during the school day. In Amagansett and Montauk, and we hope elsewhere, efforts are already under way to shore up reading skills by adding faculty and training for existing teachers.

Whether the positive results will justify the expense of preparing the report cards is anybody's guess, however. When asked this week how much the project actually cost, Ms. Awad said, "I have no idea."