I’ve been living in Cambridge for nearly ten years now (come July) and – much as I rail at its many structural inequities, and the inaccessibility of many of the wonderful things it does, there are some major things (and people!) I properly love. Among all the art, history, culture, and technology (and things which span all of these categories!), there’s an attitude of proper liberalism and a truly international spirit here. The first time I visited with a view to “we’re going to live here shortly” I heard about five languages spoken on the streets in the first hour or so, and it immediately felt more home-like than Milton Keynes, where I was living at the time.
Without Milton Keynes I may never have been pushed to write poetry (take that as you like!), but I grew up in Cardiff, a massively multicultural place, raised by polyglottal people who considered themselves Europeans, and raised me and my brother to think likewise. The idea that I can no longer call myself European is... painful to me. The idea that wonderful people (some of whom I work and make art and memories with) in this city I now call home would feel unwelcome here after the end of March is abhorrent.
So while I’m applying for an Irish passport (born in Belfast in the 70s, I’m entitled to one), and resolving to learn and use more languages, and signing any petition that comes my way, none of that feels like a celebration of what we are and can be together, culturally, artistically, and linguistically.
This morning, it finally, finally hit home for me how close Brexit is, and that I really wanted to do something to commemorate how amazingly international Cambridge (and the UK in general) is. Within about 90 seconds, the following Crazy Project blossomed in my brain: I’d like to put together an Allographic anthology of creativity in all sorts of languages by the end of the month.
It would be in the mould of the long-overdue-for-resurrection publication “Small Words” – small (A6), environmentally sourced, physically pleasant to hold, short run, and a mix of poetry, stories, photography, artwork, (and I think essays this time too, given the subject matter). We’d launch at the next Allographic open mic (Sunday 31st March).
From concept to Proper Project in a couple of hours – this is how I do. So, if you would like to submit poetry, short fiction, essays, artwork, or photography to the Allographic Small Words Brexit Special celebrating multiculturalism and international cooperation in Cambridge and the UK, go here: http://bit.ly/smallwordsbrexit. The deadline is Thu 21-Mar-19 8pm GMT.
Pieces should reflect the themes (however loosely) of multiculturalism, international cooperation, Cambridge(shire)/ Britain and its international links, and the power of peaceful protest.
There’s no money to be offered for your work (this will be a short run, aimed at breaking even), but no entry fee either, and you will receive a free copy of the anthology. We especially encourage multilingual pieces (i.e. those incorporating more than one language), though monolingual pieces in any language are also welcome.
The anthology will be published in hard form (A6, recycled materials), and electronically.
Please feel free to share this wherever you think it would be welcome. ☺
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label politics. Show all posts
Monday, 4 March 2019
Thursday, 9 February 2017
The commercial debate rumbles on...
So, it seems that people on the spoken word scene are still upset about the Nationwide adverts, and the Jeep advert, and presumably the jeans advert and the cheese adverts and the MacDonalds adverts all using poetry/ spoken word to sell product. This seems to be this season’s visit to Buckingham Palace*.
Just now pitching in: Luke Wright with a poem-to-camera in his car on the subject.
There appear to be two viewpoints contending for people’s hearts and minds here.
On the one hand: the notion that using art to promote commercialism is anathema and offensively soulless. The strong feeling that doing this diminishes the form and not only the individual artists involved but all practitioners of the artform.
On the other: the notion that most advertising (and ALL TV advertising) uses art in some way or other (from the music to the animations to the cinematography to the acting to the you-name-it). That art is intrinsically bound up in the commercial, because we live in a capitalist society and people need food to eat, clothe themselves, enjoy permanent shelter. Some selling-out or other is inevitable. There is always compromise.
So where do you draw the line? And that’s a genuine question, artists and non-artists alike: where should we be drawing the line to retain enough dignity (if that’s the word I want) and still pay the bills? Because there’s always someone paying for the art you produce, whether it’s you, your partner(s), your parent(s), your school, your workplace, direct individual customers, or the taxpayers whose money goes into national arts funding, or commercial organisations giving a fee.
Every time I write a poem for #PoetryToGo, I compromise my taste and vision for the requirements of the person holding the fiver (or whatever), whether it’s to rhyme, talk about fluffy bunnies, or turn it around in the timescale they’ve requested. On the other hand, I’d never write a poem for BP, or the Tories. About, yes; on their behalf, no.
What I’m saying, if I’m saying anything, is that there are financial realities and status frailties that drive people (some with more inner conflict than others) to produce art for corporate entities, but them doing so does not - in my opinion - diminish that artform’s ability to enlighten, transform, communicate, be an extraordinary mirror for the human condition. And it does not automatically diminish their previous work or the work they may choose to do in the future.
Luke has said that he hasn’t seen “much of a discussion around this on the live poetry scene” and that he wants to “spark a debate”. By contrast, this is something people seem to be talking about a LOT, in my experience - spoken word artists and their enablers alike. Let’s keep this going - is there a solution, a way of resolving this conflict at the heart of the scene, or are we always going to be divided on this (or merely strung out along the spectrum of NEVER to OF COURSE with a bunch of us in between, and most of us longing for the opportunity to at least be asked, because that might well mean we’ve “made it”)?
_______________
* A few years ago, a bunch of spoken word artists were invited to visit Buckingham Palace to visit the Queen. Most who were asked went, as far as I know. Some refused. EVERYONE - invited or otherwise - had an opinion.
Just now pitching in: Luke Wright with a poem-to-camera in his car on the subject.
There appear to be two viewpoints contending for people’s hearts and minds here.
On the one hand: the notion that using art to promote commercialism is anathema and offensively soulless. The strong feeling that doing this diminishes the form and not only the individual artists involved but all practitioners of the artform.
On the other: the notion that most advertising (and ALL TV advertising) uses art in some way or other (from the music to the animations to the cinematography to the acting to the you-name-it). That art is intrinsically bound up in the commercial, because we live in a capitalist society and people need food to eat, clothe themselves, enjoy permanent shelter. Some selling-out or other is inevitable. There is always compromise.
So where do you draw the line? And that’s a genuine question, artists and non-artists alike: where should we be drawing the line to retain enough dignity (if that’s the word I want) and still pay the bills? Because there’s always someone paying for the art you produce, whether it’s you, your partner(s), your parent(s), your school, your workplace, direct individual customers, or the taxpayers whose money goes into national arts funding, or commercial organisations giving a fee.
Every time I write a poem for #PoetryToGo, I compromise my taste and vision for the requirements of the person holding the fiver (or whatever), whether it’s to rhyme, talk about fluffy bunnies, or turn it around in the timescale they’ve requested. On the other hand, I’d never write a poem for BP, or the Tories. About, yes; on their behalf, no.
What I’m saying, if I’m saying anything, is that there are financial realities and status frailties that drive people (some with more inner conflict than others) to produce art for corporate entities, but them doing so does not - in my opinion - diminish that artform’s ability to enlighten, transform, communicate, be an extraordinary mirror for the human condition. And it does not automatically diminish their previous work or the work they may choose to do in the future.
Luke has said that he hasn’t seen “much of a discussion around this on the live poetry scene” and that he wants to “spark a debate”. By contrast, this is something people seem to be talking about a LOT, in my experience - spoken word artists and their enablers alike. Let’s keep this going - is there a solution, a way of resolving this conflict at the heart of the scene, or are we always going to be divided on this (or merely strung out along the spectrum of NEVER to OF COURSE with a bunch of us in between, and most of us longing for the opportunity to at least be asked, because that might well mean we’ve “made it”)?
_______________
* A few years ago, a bunch of spoken word artists were invited to visit Buckingham Palace to visit the Queen. Most who were asked went, as far as I know. Some refused. EVERYONE - invited or otherwise - had an opinion.
Thursday, 13 October 2016
Poetry Sells…?
So, someone opened the debate again today about performance poets “doing” adverts for large organisations. I suspect that this is what they were talking about: http://www.campaignlive.co.uk/article/nationwide-strips-back-ads-authentic-connection/1408827# At the time when the adverts in question came out, I was very ill, so let a whole bunch of people fulminating about artists “selling out” slide past my eyes without saying anything. But now I’m feeling better...
I have an opinion about this (of course I do). It goes something like this:
Poetry, as an artform, especially performance poetry, is one that is still low-profile and with a real lack of opportunities to make a career in, full-time. Have talent, work hard, get to the stage where people are willing to pay you, promote you, and tell everyone else that you’re excellent, and you’re faced with dilemmas at several turns. These dilemmas apply, I suspect, to pretty much every artform.
Do any job other than your artform and you’re at risk of being accused (even if only tacitly/ in your own head) of not being a “proper” artist, of diluting, of compromising. So how do you follow your creative path, and make enough money to feed, house, clothe, and transport yourself and your dependents, let alone develop yourself as a human?
If someone is willing to offer decent money for your work in a way that will raise your profile and that of your artform, where you’re not asked to compromise yourself by directly advertising the product at hand, I think that’s a good thing, personally. (It’s also worth bearing in mind: Nationwide are not Barclays, or HSBC, or Lloyds (or Monsanto, or Proctor & Gamble, or Nestlé, etc.). They’re not even a bank. On the Evil Corporations Scale, they’re pretty darned low...)
And, as someone who is still not in a position to leave the dayjob (while simultaneously wondering whether not leaving the day job is the thing that is holding me back from just saying “the fuck with it - let’s just go, commit, be awesome!”), and as someone active in promoting the artform more generally, above and beyond my own practice, I’m pleased to see performance poetry given a mainstream platform in a positive way (how many cheesy stereotypes of shit, pretentious performance poetry have we seen portrayed in mainstream media...?), with an admirable diversity of artists, considering they only picked three.
I remember the artsy, talking-heads Barclays adverts made at the turn of the Century, featuring actors who people accused of “selling out” their indie cred, their otherwise edgy images. One of them was Gary Oldman, who openly discussed how he was willing to make the compromise because the money was going to pay for his outreach programme getting children off the street and into community theatre.
Nationwide were going to make money and produce advertising. I’m glad that they decided to produce sensitive, non-exploitative showcases of artists who are ambassadors for my artform. I’m glad they promoted this notion of performance poets as bard, as voices for the nation. I don’t know the other two artists, but one of them is someone whose work (and work ethic, and politics) I admire and support, and I very much hope she got paid well.
Poets used to make their living from patrons, unless they were independently wealthy. Over the years poets have made their living by writing things other than poetry for other people, teaching, or doing other jobs to keep body and awen together. Arts grants are on the decline, commissions aren’t that easy to find, and not everyone has the time, training, or temperament for teaching. I choose to use my non-creative skills to muster a part-time day job to muster stability for the platform under my creative endeavours. I’m still not sure if I want to make 100% of my income from the creative arts, but I won’t denigrate those who sell their poetry to those with the money to pay for it, especially when these modern-day patrons aren’t particularly evil.
What are your thoughts?
I have an opinion about this (of course I do). It goes something like this:
Poetry, as an artform, especially performance poetry, is one that is still low-profile and with a real lack of opportunities to make a career in, full-time. Have talent, work hard, get to the stage where people are willing to pay you, promote you, and tell everyone else that you’re excellent, and you’re faced with dilemmas at several turns. These dilemmas apply, I suspect, to pretty much every artform.
Do any job other than your artform and you’re at risk of being accused (even if only tacitly/ in your own head) of not being a “proper” artist, of diluting, of compromising. So how do you follow your creative path, and make enough money to feed, house, clothe, and transport yourself and your dependents, let alone develop yourself as a human?
If someone is willing to offer decent money for your work in a way that will raise your profile and that of your artform, where you’re not asked to compromise yourself by directly advertising the product at hand, I think that’s a good thing, personally. (It’s also worth bearing in mind: Nationwide are not Barclays, or HSBC, or Lloyds (or Monsanto, or Proctor & Gamble, or Nestlé, etc.). They’re not even a bank. On the Evil Corporations Scale, they’re pretty darned low...)
And, as someone who is still not in a position to leave the dayjob (while simultaneously wondering whether not leaving the day job is the thing that is holding me back from just saying “the fuck with it - let’s just go, commit, be awesome!”), and as someone active in promoting the artform more generally, above and beyond my own practice, I’m pleased to see performance poetry given a mainstream platform in a positive way (how many cheesy stereotypes of shit, pretentious performance poetry have we seen portrayed in mainstream media...?), with an admirable diversity of artists, considering they only picked three.
I remember the artsy, talking-heads Barclays adverts made at the turn of the Century, featuring actors who people accused of “selling out” their indie cred, their otherwise edgy images. One of them was Gary Oldman, who openly discussed how he was willing to make the compromise because the money was going to pay for his outreach programme getting children off the street and into community theatre.
Nationwide were going to make money and produce advertising. I’m glad that they decided to produce sensitive, non-exploitative showcases of artists who are ambassadors for my artform. I’m glad they promoted this notion of performance poets as bard, as voices for the nation. I don’t know the other two artists, but one of them is someone whose work (and work ethic, and politics) I admire and support, and I very much hope she got paid well.
Poets used to make their living from patrons, unless they were independently wealthy. Over the years poets have made their living by writing things other than poetry for other people, teaching, or doing other jobs to keep body and awen together. Arts grants are on the decline, commissions aren’t that easy to find, and not everyone has the time, training, or temperament for teaching. I choose to use my non-creative skills to muster a part-time day job to muster stability for the platform under my creative endeavours. I’m still not sure if I want to make 100% of my income from the creative arts, but I won’t denigrate those who sell their poetry to those with the money to pay for it, especially when these modern-day patrons aren’t particularly evil.
What are your thoughts?
Monday, 23 May 2016
Got Angry, Wrote a Poem
It all started so innocently. I was scrolling through my Facebook feed, when this popped up, courtesy of Hannah Elwick, who ripped it a new one, displaying maximum sarcasm.
“This” (in case you can’t see it via the link above) was a glurgy piece of nostalgia porn misogyny masquerading as poetry. My emotions shifted through ennui to rage to disgust (and not just because of the font used) pretty quickly, briefly eased by Hannah’s magnificent rant against it.
But this is me, and it was lunchtime, so: riposte poem time:
Text version:
The beautiful picture of Ruby Rose in the Westinghouse style was created by the ridiculously talented Eddie Holly.
Feel free to share if you like. A surprising number of people already have, which both weirds me out and gratifies me (yay! imposter syndrome!), and the original Facebook version is here.
UPDATE: Bloody hell - there's a longer version. Turns out the ... bit in the one to which I responded is to indicate where there were more lines, but the perpetrator pinched them out in order to be able to fit the meat of the “poem” on a single side of A4.
“This” (in case you can’t see it via the link above) was a glurgy piece of nostalgia porn misogyny masquerading as poetry. My emotions shifted through ennui to rage to disgust (and not just because of the font used) pretty quickly, briefly eased by Hannah’s magnificent rant against it.
But this is me, and it was lunchtime, so: riposte poem time:
Text version:
A Poem To Which I Can Relate
I remember the corned beef of my Childhood,
And the bread that we cut with a knife,
When the Children helped with the housework,
And the men went to work not the wife.
The cheese never needed a fridge,
And the bread was so crusty and hot,
The Children were seldom unhappy,
And the Wife was content with her lot.
I remember the milk from the bottle,
With the yummy cream on the top,
Our dinner came hot from the oven,
And not from a freezer; or shop.
The kids were a lot more contented,
They didn’t need money for kicks,
Just a game with their friends in the road,
And sometimes the Saturday flicks.
…
I remember the slap on my backside,
And the taste of soap if I swore
Anorexia and diets weren’t heard of
And we hadn’t much choice what we wore.
Do you think that bruised our ego?
Or our initiative was destroyed?
We ate what was put on the table
And I think life was better enjoyed.
Author
Unknown
|
A
Poem To Which WE Can Relate
The
silence that cut like a knife
Where
Children were seen and not heard
And
blows clamped down marital strife
The
Wife could not claim her possessions,
Worked
for nothing in kitchen and bed;
The
Children were gifted this vision:
That’s
your future until you are dead.
We remember
the Childhood diseases
That
took all but lucky or strong
Darwinianism
in action
And
no-one to challenge our wrongs.
We
gazed at the chasm dividing
The
have-nots from those haves who strode
Over
huge tracts of land that were paid for
By
theft, tax, and History’s goad.
Those
who were beaten learned nothing
Except
how to govern by fear
Girls
were pressed into corsets and wasted away
You
won’t learn if you don’t try to hear
The
privileged never do question
From
whence comes their food and their board
You
whine incognito as we change the world
With
your death rattle justly ignored.
Fay Roberts
|
The beautiful picture of Ruby Rose in the Westinghouse style was created by the ridiculously talented Eddie Holly.
Feel free to share if you like. A surprising number of people already have, which both weirds me out and gratifies me (yay! imposter syndrome!), and the original Facebook version is here.
UPDATE: Bloody hell - there's a longer version. Turns out the ... bit in the one to which I responded is to indicate where there were more lines, but the perpetrator pinched them out in order to be able to fit the meat of the “poem” on a single side of A4.
Tuesday, 9 December 2014
SLAM!
So, people have been getting stuck into debate about this article. In “Slam Poetry Does Not Exist: How a movement has been misconstrued as a genre”, the author contends that people have misconstrued a poetical movement into a poetical genre. He contends this for the best part of 2,000 words, and is talking from the perspective of the North American slam scene, but much of what he says can be applied to the British slam scene, though more in some places than others (yay cultural diversity).
And other poets have been getting stuck into this, so I thought I’d give my personal take on it.
I love slams.
I hate slams.
Look...
Slamming got my poetry out from notebooks and onto a stage, where I’ve always felt more comfortable (I was a singer, now I’m a poet, this happens; also - poetry was wickedly badly-taught in my school). I started running a slam in Milton Keynes, which moved onto a mixed-slam-and-open-mic because people wanted to perform but not everyone likes to slam. Getting involved with (and now running) Hammer & Tongue in Cambridge got me exposed to more people, and upped my hosting game immensely. Competing in (and then judging) the BBC Slam again linked me to performers and promoters I wouldn’t otherwise have met. I have friends I’d never have even met if it wasn’t for slam. I’ve witnessed poets I might never have experienced if it wasn’t for slam. Seeing people get poetry for the first time because they were drawn in by the more universally-understood hook of competition and having them come up afterwards and say “OH MY GOD! POETRY! I NEVER KNEW! WHERE CAN I GET MORE?!” and then running off to read All Of The Internet (Poetry Section) that very night - that’s exciting and humbling in one breath.
I can’t slam myself. It’s too much. I shake and freeze and the explicit judgement (and anticipation of the same) is like physical pain. I don’t care that I’ve done well in them in the past; I only remember the humiliation of doing badly, and the bored/ pitying looks of those who were expecting funny, or political, or just louder, please, louder, we can’t hear you... And there’s a style that’s creeping into (especially big city) slam that’s becoming a bit homogenous - a tickbox, cut-out-theatrical, three minute emotional blackmail personal story with artful gasps to break the flow into lines. It takes inspiration from some of the most beautiful artists out there and clumsily apes it, and it makes me bored, and angry that I’m bored.
We see people performing poems they clearly wrote in order to win slams, not as good performance pieces that fit the timeframe, and that annoys me. But then, hell, page poetry has its forms where people compress thoughts into a set number of lines, and rhymes, and syllables, and enter those into the relevant competitions. We have people setting out to deliberately fling a string of vague-but-beautiful metaphysical bon-mots at their readers/ listeners. We have people who take easy political potshots for empty applause. EVERY form of poetry... hell, every form of ART has its hackneyed pretenders, and its cynical manipulators.
Recently I’ve seen a series of poets storm slams with brave, meaty, relevant, excellent, vital, original poetry, and the people who won did so with difficult, challenging, viscerally true pieces. Few of them, once you get to a certain level, are “slam”-style poems, and I think for good reason: because people enjoy showmanship, but you need that and the truth to win a poetry crowd. It’s also important to note that - like X-Factor or whatever - it’s not the winning that necessarily gets you gigs, if that’s your aim: a promoter in a crowd may dig your stuff and book you, no matter what the judges say.
In short, in my opinion: slam poetry can be a genre/ style, but it is ultimately self-limiting. Slams are bringing people to excellent and exciting art in a way they can understand, and then they can choose whether and how they want to explore performance poetry (we see plenty of people who go from our slams to our open mics and decide to stick with the gentler nights; we also see plenty others “graduate” from trying it out on the open mics to competing the high-octane buzz of slam; and then there are those who like both...!). And I’m starting to lose count of those artists I seen for whom slam has been the platform for them to go on and do great work outside of the slam arena.
Slam can be exciting, and entertaining, and infuriating, and educational, and self-important, and inspirational, and nepotistic, and awe-inspiring, and dull, and connecting, and divisive. Like life. So I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lucky, really, as tomorrow I'll be running a slam: go to http://htcdecember14.eventbrite.co.uk for more details.
And other poets have been getting stuck into this, so I thought I’d give my personal take on it.
I love slams.
I hate slams.
Look...
Slamming got my poetry out from notebooks and onto a stage, where I’ve always felt more comfortable (I was a singer, now I’m a poet, this happens; also - poetry was wickedly badly-taught in my school). I started running a slam in Milton Keynes, which moved onto a mixed-slam-and-open-mic because people wanted to perform but not everyone likes to slam. Getting involved with (and now running) Hammer & Tongue in Cambridge got me exposed to more people, and upped my hosting game immensely. Competing in (and then judging) the BBC Slam again linked me to performers and promoters I wouldn’t otherwise have met. I have friends I’d never have even met if it wasn’t for slam. I’ve witnessed poets I might never have experienced if it wasn’t for slam. Seeing people get poetry for the first time because they were drawn in by the more universally-understood hook of competition and having them come up afterwards and say “OH MY GOD! POETRY! I NEVER KNEW! WHERE CAN I GET MORE?!” and then running off to read All Of The Internet (Poetry Section) that very night - that’s exciting and humbling in one breath.
I can’t slam myself. It’s too much. I shake and freeze and the explicit judgement (and anticipation of the same) is like physical pain. I don’t care that I’ve done well in them in the past; I only remember the humiliation of doing badly, and the bored/ pitying looks of those who were expecting funny, or political, or just louder, please, louder, we can’t hear you... And there’s a style that’s creeping into (especially big city) slam that’s becoming a bit homogenous - a tickbox, cut-out-theatrical, three minute emotional blackmail personal story with artful gasps to break the flow into lines. It takes inspiration from some of the most beautiful artists out there and clumsily apes it, and it makes me bored, and angry that I’m bored.
We see people performing poems they clearly wrote in order to win slams, not as good performance pieces that fit the timeframe, and that annoys me. But then, hell, page poetry has its forms where people compress thoughts into a set number of lines, and rhymes, and syllables, and enter those into the relevant competitions. We have people setting out to deliberately fling a string of vague-but-beautiful metaphysical bon-mots at their readers/ listeners. We have people who take easy political potshots for empty applause. EVERY form of poetry... hell, every form of ART has its hackneyed pretenders, and its cynical manipulators.
Recently I’ve seen a series of poets storm slams with brave, meaty, relevant, excellent, vital, original poetry, and the people who won did so with difficult, challenging, viscerally true pieces. Few of them, once you get to a certain level, are “slam”-style poems, and I think for good reason: because people enjoy showmanship, but you need that and the truth to win a poetry crowd. It’s also important to note that - like X-Factor or whatever - it’s not the winning that necessarily gets you gigs, if that’s your aim: a promoter in a crowd may dig your stuff and book you, no matter what the judges say.
In short, in my opinion: slam poetry can be a genre/ style, but it is ultimately self-limiting. Slams are bringing people to excellent and exciting art in a way they can understand, and then they can choose whether and how they want to explore performance poetry (we see plenty of people who go from our slams to our open mics and decide to stick with the gentler nights; we also see plenty others “graduate” from trying it out on the open mics to competing the high-octane buzz of slam; and then there are those who like both...!). And I’m starting to lose count of those artists I seen for whom slam has been the platform for them to go on and do great work outside of the slam arena.
Slam can be exciting, and entertaining, and infuriating, and educational, and self-important, and inspirational, and nepotistic, and awe-inspiring, and dull, and connecting, and divisive. Like life. So I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lucky, really, as tomorrow I'll be running a slam: go to http://htcdecember14.eventbrite.co.uk for more details.
Friday, 6 September 2013
Political Correction
So, it would appear that I’ve been ranting about the lack of diversity on the spoken word scene. Again.
Why?
Well, let’s get some groundwork down, some initial assumptions out of the way:
- Diversity is important and A Good Thing™. Shh. I’ll get onto that later. Just bear in mind that it is, that I’m right, and that those groups who vociferously oppose this notion are wrong, ‘kay?
- The actual spoken word scene is diverse - in the open mics and collectives and organisations and workshops there are LOADS of people whose story and perspective is not that of the white, cis-gendered, straight, able-bodied male (WCGSABM).
- What I’m talking about here is the visible spoken word scene - the headliners, the A-listers, the Names, the ones who even people who aren’t on the scene, even those who otherwise confess despising poetry have heard of. The people who reliably sell out gigs, who tend to get interviewed, and reviewed, and paid attention to.
Okay? Okay, then I’ll begin. My (increasingly detailed) essay will be broken down into a series of headings:
The Importance of Diversity
Making The Scene More Diverse
With some sub-headings in between...
(If I use a term I’m not sure that y’all will know, you’ll see it underlined with a dotted line (this is how Blogger does it, apparently) and you’ll know that you can hover over it with your mouse and it’ll tell you a definition of that term. Yes, you may argue with the definition if you like. I may even change it... :) )So, why is diversity important, then?
Okay, fair enough, I said I’d get onto that, didn’t I? Here are my thoughts on this:
It’s just more fair...; it’s proportionally representative; and it’s aspirational and more artistically (and politically) viable.
It’s just more fair...
Okay, this is just my initial, gut reaction - it’s not fair that some people seem to get to play and others don’t, regardless of merit, talent, innovation, hard work. Quite apart from the fact that I’m in a couple of the under-represented groups, the whole “but why can’t everyone have a go?!” thing is something that’s been part of my mental makeup for a very long time.
In case you weren’t aware, yes - performance poetry is subject to the same kind of tokenism and disproportionate representation as, say, comedy. You know those panel shows where it looks like a row of white, cis-gendered, straight, able-bodied men with - if we’re lucky - someone stuck on the end who’s of colour, or female, or maybe out as queer . Hey, sometimes you get a female comedian of colour, or a lesbian. For a while we had Eddie Izzard as the Token TV but, well, he stopped dressing up in public and is all focused on his acting career so we don’t see him performing that role these days. Anyway, in comedy when you’ve wiggled a woman into the line-up it’s apparently called “token tits". Charming. I hate to think what the equivalent is for people of colour or non-heteronormative “lifestyle”.
Excuse me for a moment - I just freely used the words “heteronormative” and “lifestyle” and feel a little queasy... Okay, that’s better...
I have been asked, in the past, to perform in shows because “otherwise it’s going to be a bit of a sausage-fest.” Seriously? I mean, maybe your heart was in the right place, but I really wish you’d told me it was because I’m a good poet, or that my style or delivery or content made for a more varied line-up, because one woman in a five-poet line-up is not balanced in terms of gender... that’s maths, right there. (Yes, I still took the gigs.)
It’s proportionally representative
While the performance poetry community may indeed be small, you’d expect opportunities and talent to fall in a demographic Bell-curve - i.e. roughly equal numbers of male and female performers, and proportions of other factors that roughly mirror the UK community at large. When we’re talking about the visible big names, these proportions are WAY out of whack.
Name ten famous (living, performative) poets - go on, now, and without thinking about it consciously. How many of them are female? How many of them are of colour? How many of them are out queer? Add your own “minority” group status of choice and check your list for that. Is it in proportion to society’s general figures?
If they’re actually more represented in performance poetry’s higher echelons than in society, let me know - I’m intrigued!
(It should also be pointed out that my scientific research on this is, well, scanty - where are the lists of performance poets? Well, there’s one in Wikipedia, and after that it’s all lists of other individual’s opinions - find me stuff!
It’s aspirational and more artistically (and politically) viable
If spoken word is to be taken seriously, it’s got to, between us, represent the feelings and lives and experiences and concerns of everyone, so they can relate to it. And if spoken word is to help unite society, it needs to tell the stories of the people who aren’t being heard to the people who have the power to make things happen - one of the reasons for art is to jink past people’s defences and show them what the world looks like from someone else’s perspective. And if spoken word is to be effective for change, it needs to show the dispossessed that all kinds of people can take power through art.
And if spoken word is already taken seriously, then it needs to be demonstrating role models that represent everyone.
I can strive to be as intersectionally-aware as the next liberal white cis-gendered person who has no visible disabilities, but I can only assume that my difficulties growing up a genderqueer bisexual woman in an atmosphere of no visible (positive, proactive) role models are echoed by my trans* or disabled contemporaries, or those of colour, during their growing up.
So how can we make sure that the opportunities and the talents represented on the scene are properly diverse?
Gah. Good question. Okay, there are several strands to this, as I see it (not necessarily in a linear order of priority or chronology, but potentially in a wash, rinse, repeat series of widening cycles):
1. Demonstrating the value of under-heard stories to those who have the power to raise their profile
2. Normalising the “other” by raising the profile of “minority” performers
3. Raising the aspirations of traditionally marginalised voices by providing diverse role models
Again, let's take these in order:
Demonstrating the value of under-heard stories to those who have the power to raise their profile
This thought makes me feel a bit squirmy. It is because I have trouble with the notion that the power sits in the hands of the privileged and that we need to wait for them to “get it”. Having said that, I’m pragmatic enough to know that this is important. So this step involves finding ways to show promoters the importance of voices they're not considering.
I don’t just mean the big festivals, the big venues, the people with funding, the people you’ve heard of. I mean everyone who puts shows on and publishes work (written or performed) anywhere ever. At all. From the tiniest open-mic-with-features all the way up to, I dunno, stadia events promoters.
It’s everyone’s responsibility. All the time. It’s not like it isn’t happening already, but more needs to be done. e.g. Glastonbury and Apples & Snakes are pretty good at proportional opportunities for poets of colour, female poets, and queer poets, but they’ve arguably some way to go on disabled and trans* poets, and poets over the age of 30…
The other reason I feel a bit squirmy about this notion is that it runs the risk of ghettoising “minority” performers - of making a “special case” for something that should be second nature. But I guess that kind of conscious thought is going to have to suffice until... oh, here’s my next sub-heading:
Normalising the “other” by raising the profile of “minority” performers
How do I put this? I, personally, don't want to have to do this. I don't want diversity to be something I have to think about because I want to live in a society where it's not an issue, and where people are given opportunities based on merit – hard work and talent – not on societal appearance. But the only way this is going to happen is if “visibility” of those not currently being heard is ubiquitous.
Mainstream media still seems to think that the experiences and opinions of WCGSABMs is the norm. We need to break them of the notion that anything other is “exotic”. e.g. media such as new-generation Doctor Who and other associated titles have put in sterling work on this with regard to sexuality – continuous images of not only fully-integrated, healthy, functional non-heterosexual beings, but the acceptance of such by those around them.
I also want to make something else clear here – I have nothing against the stories of WCGSABMs, I just want to hear more of what everyone else has to say...
Increasing normalisation hopefully then creates demand and subtle pressure on other media and promoters to showcase “other” stories, which leads us reasonably neatly onto:
Raising the aspirations of traditionally marginalised voices by providing diverse role models
Is it possible that part of the reason that we don’t see as many female, (openly) queer, trans*, disabled poets, or those of colour, is that they do not consider performance poetry “their” sphere? Or is it that they are conditioned against ambition because some message or other has taken hold that they are not worthy to share their words or thoughts or opinions or feelings, not worthy to take applause and adulation and congratulation? After all, speaking from my own conditioning and training - nice girls aren’t supposed to put themselves forward, raise their voices, get in the spotlight on their own. Sing in choirs, for sure, sing someone else’s words in aid of something, but not, you know, just for the sheer glory and adrenalin-spiking fear-joy of shining alone. Tut, etc.
The notion I’m driving at with this sub-heading is, in case you hadn’t grasped it, that we need to tell them that they can be poets, and that they can perform, and that they can still be true to themselves and do these things well. That talent and hard work should be the only barriers to doing this. And that this may mean raising flagpoles of people visibly representing the marginalised voices and saying: “these people are awesome... oh, and they happen to be [insert non-WCGSABM category/ies here], and that story is just as important.
I want to have this conversation, out loud and in public, and I want to know if I’m wrong and that the visible spoken word world is representatively diverse, or if you have an exceptionally compelling argument for why diversity isn’t important on the spoken word scene.
Dependent on the comments people add to this, the text of this “article” may change. If you have a go at me for being a middle-class, liberal, well-educated white person who hasn’t checked her privilege/ is being patronising, you may have a tougher go of changing my mind, but do try, if you think it’s important...
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