Like any Spoken Word Summit worth its spice, Calgary’s began with a four-day festival. Grand Warrior Organizer Sheri-D Wilson welcomed two of the Greatest Living (can spoken word be other than living, eh?), Anne Waldman and Quincy Troupe, to a “Beyond Belief” duo-read on June 21. Anne’s incredible Vow to Poetry (Coffee House) is a MUST, O Poets Searching in the Wilderness for a Curriculum: here’s where the Manifesto becomes the Feminifesto, a grand collection of talks, essays, interviews that calls to mind Ted Berrigan’s On the Level Everyday (Talisman). These are required texts for poet-mind-action, How To Do When There’s Nothing/Everything To Do. Quincy’s newest is a children’s book-length poem called Little Stevie Wonder (Houghton Mifflin): “Isn’t he lovely, / this small blind boy, thinking of his fingertips? / Snapping those fingers before unseeing eyes.” Got a CD, too.
The second day of the Festival was in praise of the Local, and eight poets flew: Moe Clarl, Ryan Fitzpatrick, Jill Hartman, Frances Kruk, Andre Rodrigues, Jordan Scott, Andre Wedderburn, Jonathan Wilcke. No doubt about it: like Chicago in the US, Calgary stakes a claim as Spoken Word Capital of Canada.
Next night, the 15 or so poets from all over Canada with a few honorary Canadians, Jem Rolls on tour from Scotland, Orunamamu from San Francisco, me, performed a Poetry Pub Crawl -– well, it was the audience who crawled, the poets stayed put and performed for whoever came their way. A wild success, and a way to integrate the Local in their own habitats, get local businesses involved, and get that poetry out there. Poets who read: Queen Dub Lillian Allen, video poet Jill Battson, Calgary’s Vivian Hansen, local Fred Hollis, the spirit behind Montreal’s “Les Filles electriques” D. Kim, the wonderful Calgarian clown/poet Kirk Miles, cowboy poet Ken Mitchell, and the thoughtful slammer Andrea Thompson.
The next night all gathered at the simply fabuloso Iron wood Stage and Grill where proprietor Josh Marantz tucked us into his grizzly embrace and the poets proceeded to smash down all manner of walls, stereotypes, and outmodedness in their quest to kick poetry into the heart of the audience of the future, who jammed the joint. Since I was actually at this event (day before spent thumb-twiddling at LaGuardia as weather and union blues kept Jet West grounded), allow me some bites:
First off, Sheri-D had put together a 3-piece back-up group (guitar, stand-up bass, drums/percussion) that was professional, sensitive and rocked. All the poets except the daring Jem Rolls worked with the band, and the results were solid, breathtaking, and relaxed the audience. It ain’t easy, but poets with mad skills like this roster had grow to overflow when given opportunity. HINT: Sheri-D had a sound check that afternoon, so that the musicians and poets had a chance to rehearse their spontaneity. MORE INSTABANDS FOR POETRY READINGS!
Kevin Matthews, who directs SpoCan, the Spoken Word Canada network, opened up with a magnificent Seuss homage… Sheri-D herself followed with a set of political love poems that had the audience simultaneously laughing, dancing, and hitting on each other (Her new book is Re:Zoom, Frontenac Books)… Kateri Akiwenzie-Damm took the local to the land in her Native turns, and spoke of her lover’s ass as if it were a spiritual thing –- and ain’t it? (Try her CD, Standing Ground)… Ian Ferrier, the Springsteen/Waits of Canada, used his guitar as a magic wand in bringing the poem straight to vein… It was my first time seeing/hearing Toronto’s David Bateman -- Astonishing! a solo grand guignol opera, Bateman changes costumes and consciousnesses mid-breath with Betty Rubble of the Flintstones, yes that one!, right there on stage to the pulsating beats (Hey, take a look at Invisible Foreground, also Frontenac)… Jem Rolls has blended poetry and standup so tightly it’s a wrap and roll, he’s some nutty terrier who won’t let loose yr ear. Jem’s touring the Canada Fringe circuit; sure, he’s a theatrical performance artist, too! -– a searingly brilliant parodist who takes Nothing seriously, including his own bad self… Well, I guess I was up next, not too humiliated to perform “Past Mon,” the white reggae artist’s lament for Lillian Allen, a few subject-line poems rescued from Spam, and for the Hip Hop Nation, “(Think the) Other Thought,” this just as Rah Goddess, one of the great voices of US hip hop poetry, decided to appear here in the Canadian plains, the Rockies’ foothills… Leave it to Dwayne Morgan to clean up. Morgan, a new voice to me, is certainly a new kind of star in the spoken word orbit. He’s as smooth-loving for the ladies as Marvin Gaye, but he’s also got a preacher vibe, a humanistic preacher, an Oprah-ready preacher, pointing to the sexualizing of teens as a lost childhood. Very intriguing combo, and a relaxed, engaging performer if ever there was a one. Watch for Dwayne Morgan!
