Think “performance poetry” and what comes to mind? Avant garde smoky cafes late at night with beret wearing, goateed youths with black turtlenecks spouting random inchoate messages while throwing about seemingly unrelated objects? Or perhaps you imagine the “slam,” a group of fast talking, finger popping, coffee guzzling competitions where the contestants throw words at each other in a series of poorly written one-upmanship rhymes? Or maybe you imagine an insecure whispering geek who is unable to do more than stare at his feet while he mumbles his way through work that would be a lot more powerful if you could concentrate on anything other than his bad skin and shy execution? Well think again. Although the term may conjure up images which are relatively modern, the performance of poetry is about as old as language itself. Think Euripides, Aeschylus and Homer, with its strophe and antistrophe, its grand characters like Medea, Odysseus, Oedipus and Elektra. Poetry, with its emphasis on the perfectly chosen word; the instant hit of meaning, works well in the grand performance theatre. A well spoken poet can set the pace, the emphasis, and often can bring to life poetry in a way which will reach audiences with the shortest attention spans.
There are many definitions of performance poetry, and there are those who didactically argue that there is a serious difference between “performance poetry” and the performance of poetry. It really doesn’t matter. If it is performed, virtually or live, it is performance poetry - whether props or visuals are involved or not. There are poems which work best on the page and poems which only come to life when read out loud. There are poets who can take a seemingly simple and perhaps trite poem and turn it into something extraordinary in their readings, and others who can take a wonderful moving poem and turn it into something utterly mundane by throwing in too many gimmicks or reading it in monotone, without effective emphasis. Mixing live readings with imagery and even music can change a poem, reach new audiences, intensify and heighten the power of a poem. When done properly it is a piece of art in itself which removes the borders between the arts, especially in collaborative efforts with a range of very talented artists. When done poorly, as it often is (relying on a variety of talents not often found in a single person), it can render all the arts involved trivial, as the poet attempts to work in a visual or rhetorical medium to which he or she is unaccustomed to.
I have to admit that much of what I’ve heard out loud has been poorly done and even silly, lacking the power for me that a good poem has on the page. On the other hand, I have heard a few poets reading their work in a way that turns the poem into something sublime - a heady and moving experience which combines the best of theatre with the most extraordinary verbal expression. Above all, performance poetry is a theatrical event, and the poet must also be an actor. It isn’t enough to play with props or rely on the natural rhythm and poetic text. Nor is it enough to be a good actor. Without the intensity of a powerful poem, the work has nothing to develop.
There is nothing new in the performance of poetry, but there are many new technologies that have changed the way in which it can be displayed to an audience. The poet may not even have to be present. With a PC, and products like CoolEdit2000 (a cheap virtual recording studio), a good microphone, decent Flash skills and artistic ability can take a poem and turn it into a video clip, a film or even something which defies description. These types of works may or may not be superior to a standalone poem (and purists would probably say that the ‘gimmicky’ nature of such work would diminish the effectiveness of the original poem, which should stand alone), but the potential is extraordinary, and the audience involved may well change depending on the nature of the piece. In some ways, it could be said that performance poetry has a strong element of egalitarianism. Take the poetry to the people, remove the “university” taint, and provide it in a quickly accessible form which has even young hip hopsters queuing at the door. The key is of course, talent, and authenticity. Add a few snakes to your hair and your Medusa piece won’t be any more powerful, but open your eyes wide, and read your work in the character of Medusa - feeling the pain and the pleasure of your calling in ways that make the audience shiver, and you will be joining the greatest of actors, forcing an audience to feel your work in exactly the way you intended.
Personally, I find that there is nothing quite as wonderful as coming across a perfectly written poem, which speaks to me intimately, in that quiet space where reader is transported and reaches a sympatico which goes well beyond death. On the other hand, the excitement of a live reading, or a multimedia performance of a work offers the kind of tension and faster pace theatrics which are no longer a quiet, personal experience, but rather a rush of adrenalin - something different altogether. As long as there is talent involved, there is indeed room for both in our world where ecstatic pulsations of any kind are rare and valuable.
Magdalena Ball runs The Compulsive Reader http://www.compulsivereader.com/html Her stories, poetry, reviews and articles have appeared in many printed anthologies and journals, and have won several awards. She is the author of The Art of Assessment, and Quark Soup. Her debut novel Sleep Before Evening ( http://tinyurl.com/3crnk5 ) was published by BeWrite Books in July 2007.
Tags: literary, literature, performance, Poetry, reading, writing
