Poetry Slams
 

Launching a topic for discussion: poetry slams.

Who's been to one? Any regular attendees at them? What do you make of them? Useful takeaways? Any "but for the free association clause of the First Amendment. . . " outcry against them?

What do you all think?

Daniel

I spent some time at slams in the early 2000s. I guess my comment on slams as an art form would be this scene from This Is Spinal Tap:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOO5S4vxi0o

Cheers,
John

Yep, yep, yep. I get it.

(more discussion to come, I hope.)

Thanks for this, John. I needed the laugh.

D

Due to my auditory processing issues, I strongly prefer poetry on the page.

Whether in a slam or in a more traditional poetry reading, the performers tend to speak way too fast for me to understand the words on any level, let alone appreciate the multiple levels of wordplay.

Yes, I know that there are many here who enjoy poetry in performance, and who feel that that hearing it, rather than seeing it, is the best way to appreciate this art form.

You go right ahead and enjoy it that way. I can't.

Here's a link to an anti-slam essay:

http://www.umbrellajournal.com/fall2...y/DonKunz.html

And here's a link to the poem I wrote in response:

http://www.bigcitylit.com/spring2011...rroll#defender

I haven't attended many slams, and haven't been impressed by most of the slam poems I've heard. Also, I've seen plenty of Poetry and New Yorker poems that I regarded as a complete waste of ink and paper. But good stuff rears its head from time to time.

Awesome!
 

Hey, Chris!

Your "To a Defender of Poetic Tradition" made me laugh, hiss and call "burn!" again and again.

The poem itself indicts "page poets" for one of my most frequent "criminal" complaints: the fucking absence of humor. (I should say "many," or "so many," are humorless-- your poem's bitch-slap against over-generalization is a note I need to take, too.)

I haven't read the anti-slam article yet. I'll come back for it. (I have to brace myself for an attack of helpless acrimony.)

Thanks for adding to this thread. My two cents for the day:

What I cleave to about my hometown slam (shout-out, Maxwell Mitchell and Mr. Spreadlove https://www.facebook.com/events/3392...54719038447526) is likely true of all slams: the poets' clear concern for audience, for ears and the in-built audience response. Silence means two very different things at a slam as opposed to a "literary" reading, or open mic sponsored by the Poetry Cartel.

And oh yeah: effing racism / boojie classism. Those repugnant creatures lurk in every "broad brush" dismissal of slams and slam poetry / spoken word I've ever heard.

Thanks again, man. The poem we've talked about made my day. I really appreciate the laughs, and the thoughts. (I can easily imagine future conversations in which I could just say, 'Read this,' hand off this poem. So thanks for the breath and diastolic BP points saved, too.) I'll return for the other poem and I'll visit your site.

Hope to see you around the 'Sphere, too.

Best regards,
Daniel

I haven't been to a poetry slam (yet), but I've seen enough critiques of them that I can safely say that my attitude toward the latter exactly matches Chris'.

Well, I made a broad brush dismissal of slams upthread, so let me just say: there's nothing wrong with going to eleven. And yes, every successful slam poet I ever heard was more aware of audience than most page poets I've heard reading. But in my time at slams, which was not short, I don't remember ever hearing a quiet poem win.
Also, the Kunz piece has the exact faults you might anticipate.

Cheers,
John

The bigger problem with a great deal of slam in the U.S. is that it popped up in the mainstream at the same time as Third Way Dems and other such ne'erdowells were pushing identitarian neoliberalism, with the result that the genre can frequently resemble a nasty Twitter pile-on informed by what seems to be a Cliff's Notes version of a cultural studies handbook transcribed via a game of telephone.

Big "yep" from me, Quincy.

I believe a lot of currents braid into every part of "culture."

A fat, strong strand in this area: a couple of generations (at least) of "page poets" who have monetized not poetry, not their poetry (via book sales) but Being a Poet-- via workshops, mini-conferences, kind of like the "Learn to Paint While Drinking Wine" events that have proliferated in recent years, at least around my town. Not to mention creative writing as a course and a major, needless to say.

Outside the academy, if you've published a chapbook, that's license enough to be a guru of others' "voices," apparently. I've seen many such side-hustles in the gig economy.

One sells a lot more tickets to the ride if the "you must be this tall"-sign is only waist-high.

As it is the second week of the month, I get to do the interesting toggle between the slam I'll attend tonight, and the monthly sponsored reading (with preceding open mic) this Friday. They are as different as a pop-up barbecue joint and a Michelin 2-star bistro, at least in their attitudes. Another glaring contrast: at one of the events, I never have to ask myself, "What the fuck was that poem about?

Daniel