 |  |  |  |  |
The spoken word open mic at the Wilma Theater in Philadelphia
May 20th, 2004, which I hosted, was a complete success. Due to
time restrictions laid down by the Wilma, it was the most
exciting poetry reading I've witnessed.
The task was to squeeze as many of Philadelphia's best poets as
possible into one hour, at three minutes apiece. In my
introductory remarks I asked readers to skip any epigraphs or
explanations and get right to the art. The result was explosive;
a kaleidoscope of talent, spoken word performers following one
after another, compressing their strong voices into three minute
bursts. Every poet was different; because of the difference each
one a surprise. There were no flat spots. Without the usual
stalling, the room, and the audience, never lost its intense
interest, the air filled with electricity. I worked to aid this
with quick intros of each performer, done in over-the-top,
boxing-ring style, keeping the energy at a high level.
An example of the excitement was when Sean Berk, one of the K215
poets (a Northeast Philly neighborhood group making their first
appearance in Center City) gave a dynamic performance. I told
Daniel G. Bolger, an unknown arrival eager to go on, that here
was his chance; he had a tough act to follow and I hoped he'd be
up to it. He bounded forward. His voice was every bit as strong;
his reading manic, his words hitting everyone with clarity and
power-- possibly the best reader of all.
The open mic reading was a prelude to the opening of Wilma's
play, "Jesus Hopped the A Train," which was scheduled to begin
shortly after. (Why we were limited to one hour.) We read in the
spacious and elegant lobby, surrounded by large photos on the
walls of the Wilma's past productions. A microphone boomed our
voices. The audience sat around an array of classy round tables,
a row of chairs added in back when more people came in as we
began. Ten minutes into the event, I noticed a dozen people
standing behind these chairs, the large lobby overflowing.
Though I've been part of other events in this town, and have
staged readings in other cities, this was, curiously enough, the
first real show I've promoted in Philadelphia. (The recent
Conclave doesn't count.) Philadelphia is an ideal city for
promoting events, it turns out, because it's more compact than
Chicago or Detroit, its center area more densely populated, and
has more of a small-town feel than New York. An hour before the
event, Frank Walsh and I passed out flyers at Rittenhouse
Square, an urban park four blocks from the Wilma. I later saw
people in the audience holding these flyers in their hands. (It
was a free event.)
The power of the show built. When Bonnie MacAllister started it
off, many people were still taking their seats, settling in,
unsure what to expect, maybe thinking this would be like any
other reading. Bonnie read a few short pieces, starting slowly
but ending on a high note to strong applause. Frank Walsh
following did a crazed cracked "Reagan's Brain" sequel in a faux
Southern accent pulling out all stops pushing every aesthetic
sensibility envelope, staring out warily as he finished as if
risking condemnation. To his surprise, the applause was
thunderous. From hereon the surprises, as I said, followed one
after another.
Among the highlights: Monica Pace, who read third-- recently
returned to performing after a many-year break-- was the best
I've heard her, her excellent poetry now backed by a voice
strong and resonant. The K215 troupe astonished everyone, the
Wilma people shaking their heads at how good they were. K215
leader Shawn Simmons sounded like he was speaking in tongues, a
fast lunatic crescendo of words that kept people stunned. Monica
and Shawn inhabit different and unique poetic universes-- each
great at their own style. The conjunction of such difference,
layered closely together, is what made this reading fun.
We also had the best high school poets in the city, part of the
Art Sanctuary after-school program. Mere teenagers, all four of
them wowed the crowd, none more than city high school Poet
Laureate Myra Allen.
Zulma Gonzalez; Natalie Felix; Shawn Terreri; Poet X; others--
twenty readers crammed into one hour-- if there were any weak
spots, I didn't notice. The format didn't allow for weakness. In
such a supercharged environment, each poet jumped into the flow
and did his or her best.
What's my conclusion? This event, in the heart of a major city's
artistic district, proved that spoken word, if done right, can
be extremely exciting, and draw a crowd. It proved that despite
the cliques that exist, most of the best poets in a city will
come together for a special event. And it proved that if
established venues like the Wilma want or need excitement at a
high level they can best find it in the literary underground.
-King Wenclas