Slamming your Brain; a poetry slam.
Rating: 3
KConsciousness SLAM
KC Fringe Festival
KConsciousness at Crosstown Station was a calm and rather understated poetry slam. Given that the main topics of poetry slams are politics, religion, gender issues, and lifestyle of people who continue to fail as human beings, it is easy to understand why it always comes off as angry and with an air of "I know more than you." And of course, they do. They know more words, more rhymes, and more statistics than the average person, and that is part of the reason why being preached at for nearly an hour and a half turned out to be quite entertaining.
Technically, the night was a bit of a misfire. The desperate search the lighting operator went on every time a poet decided he or she wanted to perform on the floor instead of the stage so as to give a different feel to his or her piece was, to say the least, annoying and a little bit comical. It is hard enough to keep up with the quick words and rhymes without seeing random lights throughout the room go off and on in the lighting guy's conquest to light the poet. Eventually, he noticed he was just being a distraction, and he let a couple poets perform in the dark. But on stage, we had problems as well. There is a small difference between finding your light and just plain avoiding it. A couple poets decided to scoot over just enough to wind up in the 10 inches of darkness onstage. Maybe that's how poets like it? Eh, that's neither here nor there, but it was incredibly distracting to this audience member.
Another technical issue was the use of the microphone - or the lack thereof. Certain artists were very hard to hear without the microphone in the big open room at Crosstown Station, and it's a shame, too, because from what I could hear of those artists, the whole of the poem would have been very thought-provoking.
The audience caught some of the some-odd 10-15 poets' names at the end through a quick, informal introduction, but this reviewer was not quick enough with her scribbling to catch all of them. But are poets really no more than their words at a poetry slam anyway? If that is true, there exists not one inch of guilt talking about the ones whose words stood out using their own words as their introduction in this review.
"The food is too fast to bless..." This man was the first to be introduced at the end, so scribbling "Robert" was simple enough. Robert found the right speed, the right words, and the right feel every time he stepped in front of the mic. (And thank heavens he DID step in front of the mic). This man made some excellent points, and was one of the only poets to actually make the other poets verbally and excitedly express themselves during his pieces. He was more than his words, though. He was a strong performer, and seeing his eyes (in the light!) was like being in a trance - he kept the audience more than just interested in what he was saying. Best of luck to anyone who sees them and then wants to, for any reason, leave during his poem.
"F*ck the State of the Union." Someone should have told this man to grab the mic and take it with him while he darted across the stage in rapper-like form for his first piece. He was one of the ones who surely had a good poem coming out of his mouth, but for lack of hearing him, he was lost to most of the audience. For his second piece, though, he stood, nervous as a 1st grader on show-and-tell day, right in front of the microphone and became one of the better "actors" of the night while using his nervous and introverted stance and speech to contrast so miraculously from his first piece.
"I should have called myself Sojourner Lies." This lady started out the piece telling us that she was being possessed by ancient spirits. It did not take long, however, for the audience to stop wanting to run out of the room for fear of a crazy person pulling a gun on them to realize that this was only the premise of her piece. And a great piece it was. She used 2 mics to signify her changing personalities. What a great idea. However, it would have been a stronger execution had she chosen to do some sort of character for each person for whom she was speaking. Instead, she used her own voice and her own body, and what could have been a great 5 or 6 minutes turned out to be just okay. The audience definitely kept her alive, though, by whooping and offering its usual poetry interjections "Ookaay!" and "That's right!" throughout her piece. The words were very entertaining.
"What's your ism?" The fact that this golf-hat-wearing, knee-sock-sporting awesome white boy always had his poems written down in front of him did not detract at all from his performance. It is odd to say that having his poems in hard-copy may have even helped his cause because he came off as a nerd in every sense of the word. (oooh, that rhymed.) Just thinking about this poet makes me want to watch the Hardy Boys. He was funny, to the point, and charming. He often chose to stand with his legs wide open and bent (I'm guessing that had something to do with his "being rooted in realism"). The room may not have been feeling him after his 3rd installment of "What's your ism?" but this reviewer certainly was. Maybe he got into a dictionary and wrote down every word that ended in "ism." However he came up with all those words, any word cono surs in the audience stayed enthralled whenever this boy took the stage.
"Nucular" I did not catch any Bush references in his piece, so this artist said it this way all on his own. It is sad that this is why I remember him.
"Strumming my pain with his finger." This girl sat at the back of the stage for what seemed like an eternity; even the question of whether she was performing at all started to emerge. And then she gets up and gives one of the most heart-felt performances the audience has heard all night. Though she did have trouble, soft voice that she had, being heard even WITH a microphone, the audience was on pins and needles as she sang those famous Fugees' lyrics and gave them a different meaning than has ever been given before. It was expected that, at some point, someone would sing something just like in high school forensics where the winner was always someone who sang at the end of their 8-minute piece. This reviewer cringed at the thought. But connecting those words with domestic abuse... she gave that whole room a slice of magic. That being said, however, the singing should have stopped after "finger." That was enough and stronger than doing the whole chorus (even though her vo!
ice could not have sounded more like Lauryn's).
"2 parts rubber, one part glue" This soulful, at-ease, and beautiful woman sounded the way a coffee shop poet sounds. Any insomniac could peacefully fall asleep to the sound and tone of "Princess's" voice. This is not to say her poems weren't well worth the attention they received. Her preview on Sunday was, afterall, the reason this reviewer even came to see the show! By saying that we all need to be more parts glue, she opened a lot of ears. And is that not the point of slam poetry?
Ultimately, if you don't mind being preached at outside of church, KConsciousness at Crosstown Station won't be that bad for you. But if you are entertained at the thought of being preached at from strictly opposing sides, KConsciousness is definitely the place for you. Two girls, one without a "God" and the other one with a "God," sat next to each other the whole night long and listened to each other. Both got applauded. Both got the spotlight. And neither one ended up persecuted. That was the most pleasing thought of the night, and it was not offered by a poet. It was sitting there in front of everyone's faces while they clapped and drank beer.
read the review at KC Stage
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