Editor's Introduction As poetry readings grow and proliferate, it is important to consider the role that they play in the literary community and in the language at large, to ask how poetry readings alternately emulate and defy other forms of performance, and to question why (ironically in the age of "the death of the author") we still crowd into bars and auditoriums to hear the veritable voice of the poet. This Spring, Crossroads invited the organizers of five Reading Series across the country to respond to a survey on the evolution and aesthetics of the poetry reading. The readings series that were chosen represent only a small proportion of the vast array of ground-breaking series currently in existence, including Beyond Baroque in Los Angeles; the Kelly Writers House Reading Series in Philadelphia; The University of Arizona Poetry Center Reading Series in Tucson; The Boston Poetry Slam in Boston; and DIA Readings in Contemporary Poetry, Women Poets at Barnard, Makor Poetry Series, the Nuyorican Poets Café and St. Mark's Poetry Project in New York City. The survey questions were not theoretical, but hands-on and experiential, and while some of the participants chose to respond to the survey in its entirety, others elected to write a single comprehensive statement. Together the responses form an intimate introduction to the spoken word. KGB Bar Poetry Reading Series David Lehman, Co-founder BACKGROUND STATEMENT Star Black and I started the KGB Bar Poetry Reading Series in February 1997. We did 14 or 15 evenings that first season, each on a Monday night, in the "red room" up a flight of rickety steps near the corner of Fourth Street and Second Avenue in New York City. The bar was once a Communist front (and before that a Lucky Luciano speakeasy). The walls are painted red, with heavy red drapes hanging over the windows. Hammer-and-sickle flags, posters, photographs and other examples of defunct Soviet iconography create a pre-Russian Revolutionary atmosphere. No one—not the readers, not the organizers and hosts—was paid. No one has ever been paid. Yet more than one hundred Monday night readings later the series is still going strong. The KGB Bar Book of Poems, featuring the poets who read in our first three seasons, was published in April 2000 by HarperCollins. It contained Star's photographs (from those and subsequent seasons) as well as anecdotes from the poets on the best or worst thing ever to happen to them at a poetry reading. Among the poets who have read at the KGB Bar in the last couple of years are John Ashbery, Charles Bernstein, Mark Bibbins, Robert Bly, Cathy Bowman, Lucie Brock-Broido, Billy Collins, Tom Disch, Chris Edgar, Deborah Garrison, Marilyn Hacker, Donald Hall, Bob Holman, Richard Howard, Vincent Katz, Carolyn Kizer, Katy Lederer, Jackson MacLow, Harry Mathews, Maggie Nelson, Alice Notley, Sharon Olds, Ron Padgett, Molly Peacock, Bob Perelman, Claudia Rankine, Liam Rector, Prageeta Sharma, Brenda Shaughnessy, Gerald Stern, James Tate, Natasha Trethewey, C. K. Williams, C. D. Wright and Kevin Young. In Spring 2001, we have Elizabeth Alexander, Linda Gregg, Bob Hicok, Janet Holmes, Susan Howe, Claudia Keelan, Jacqueline Osherow, Lloyd Schwartz and others, an amazing proportion of whom are coming from far away (Holmes from Idaho, Keelan from Nevada, Osherow from Utah, Hicok from Michigan). RESPONSE TO THE SURVEY 1. What are the elements of a great poetry reading? Great poetry. Good audiences. The right locale. 2. Have you identified any trends in the way that poets read their work? Are these trends concurrent with stylistic trends in the writing itself? Poetry slams have had their effect. Some poets emphasize the performative element of their work, acting out their poems as an actor might deliver a soliloquy or a comedian a monologue. In general, some poets are natural crowd pleasers, terrific at meeting the audience half-way, witty, charming, bold, seductive, while others read too fast or in too low a voice, with too few comments between the poems or with too many, consulting their watches frequently or forgetting about the time constraints altogether—and we love 'em anyway. In each case it seems the manner of presentation adds a dimension to our understanding of the work. 3. What role do poetry readings play in the literary community? Do readings play different roles in different communities? The main function is to span the imaginative gap separating poets from the readers we know are out there, from whom we might sometimes feel as removed as Kafka's land surveyor from the castle to which he has been summoned. 4. What effect does location have on the experience of a poetry reading? What kind of atmosphere do you try to cultivate? A bar is a great place for a reading, ashtrays and martini glasses are great props, and downtown in the East Village (where the KGB Bar is located) there seems to be less mental distance between the place of composition and the place of reception. 5. What do audience members expect from poetry readings? Or, to put it differently, what do you believe that audience members should expect—of themselves as listeners and of the individual poets as readers? A good audience is attentive without fawning, articulate without gushing, spontaneous without being disruptive or intrusive, and is rewarded with the feeling of being in on a secret just before it begins to spread. 6. Can you characterize the relationship between the poet and the audience? Is the relationship comparable to other forms of performance? In a place like the KGB Bar the audience and the poet are in the sort of near proximity that is possible only in a bastion of non-celebrity culture, which poetry resolutely remains. 7. Do you believe that poetry readings have begun to have an effect on the way that poetry is being written? Yes. An enthusiastic listener said of a poet that "she could have read the yellow pages and it would have been worth listening to." He meant it as a compliment, but it seems a left-handed one, implying that the text was nothing, the performance everything. There's an obvious danger there. The Blacksmith House Reading Series Gail Mazur, Founder BACKGROUND STATEMENT When I began the Blacksmith House readings, near Harvard Square, in 1973, the room was a café, housed in the village smithy of Longfellow's famous poem (of course, it hadn't been a smithy for years, wasn't one when my grandfather, a blacksmith, came to Boston from Russia toward the end of the 19th century). The audience sat at tables for four, usually people unknown to each other, becoming acquainted as the evening zigzagged along. Poetry and coffee created an intimate, opinionated community. Looking at old photographs now, I think of how informal and exhilarating these occasions were, and how raffish—the sixties not quite over. (I'd just moved back from New York, where the readings held at Dr. Generosity's and Broadway Central were my favorites). In the early 1970s, Alice James Books, Ploughshares, The Boston Review and The Blacksmith House series all started with no budgets, no standing on dignity about doing the chores that kept these enterprises going—and still do. (I set up chairs and passed a basket for donations every Monday night for 15 years; now we sell tickets.) Some of us were infused with a Garland-Rooney let's-put-on-a-show enthusiasm. Most readings at that time were presented in academic settings, which could be inhospitable to civilians, attended by students, and, rarely, faculty. Our place was a storefront, almost on the street, wide open. In 1979, my space was reconstructed as a small auditorium, seating about 75 people, making the drama only slightly less intimate— I miss the tables and the sense of a field of characters. Among the writers who've read are poets living in Boston who were beginning when I was: Frank Bidart, Robert Pinsky, Joyce Peseroff, Lloyd Schwartz, William Corbett, Martha Collins, Sam Cornish, and the next generation: Marie Howe, Stuart Dischell, Rosanna Warren, Steven Cramer, Tom Sleigh, Robin Becker, David Rivard. Over the years, Seamus Heaney, Louise Glück, Yusef Komunyakaa, Eavan Boland, Joseph Brodsky, Sherman Alexie, Marilyn Nelson, Robert Hass, Mark Strand, Maxine Kumin, Carl Phillips, Jorie Graham, John Skoyles, Mark Doty. New poets like Michael Ladd, Erin Belieu, Nick Flynn and Natasha Trethewey. But 28 years, over 700 readings, I can only begin to list them all! Many writers have read from their first collections, a particular pleasure for everyone, celebratory, congratulatory. And sometimes, in the audience, these same poets were listening—or Robert Lowell, Octavio Paz or Elizabeth Bishop—raising the energy by their very presences. RESPONSE TO THE SURVEY What makes a great reading? There are always two possibilities—no, there are an infinite number. Sometimes, it's the work of a new poet, or a poet new to the listener, that works, to paraphrase Kafka, as an axe to chop the frozen sea within us. The sine qua non must be energy. The intense connection, the attention, the poets brings to the work. Not razzle-dazzle performance, but energy that an exciting poet reading well, or even well enough, brings to an audience, energy the audience breathes in, and then breathes out. A spirited sense of "occasion." Sometimes, the Blacksmith House audience is utterly quiet (I think of Stanley Kunitz's masterful reading two years ago—everyone in the hall stunned by the occasion, the music and wisdom of Kunitz and his work; or of Alan Dugan's gruff, workman-like delivery of poems); at other times, there's a rumbling, almost call-and-response dynamic. When an admired poet reads new work that is exciting, when people who have come to hear rush home champing to write, what could be better? When the poems you've read to yourself are brought to another level by the poet's voice reading the work as she or he hears it, or as close as the particular combination of stage-fear, passion, and reading-skill allow; when that voice is in your mind's ear when you read the poem days or weeks later—that's a great reading. The audience in Boston and Cambridge, while heterogeneous, is a more literary audience than some, an enthusiastic, tough crowd, usually ready for a post-mortem at the bar around the corner, the Casablanca. Different audiences have different expectations, and expectations differ with individual poets. I am always happy when someone comes up to me after a reading to say, "This was my first poetry reading!"(If they didn't like it, wouldn't they slink silently away?). They come back, and person by person, the listening/reading audience for poetry grows. To be transported, or only distracted, to learn, to encourage, to listen as if to music, to be with other people who want to be with poetry, to be inspired. Or entertained. Any chair in the house could hold a listener who comes for one or all of these gifts. On a great night, the gifts are delivered. The Poetry Center of Chicago Kenneth Clarke, Executive Director BACKGROUND STATEMENT The Poetry Center of Chicago, a not-for-profit organization, was founded in 1974 by Chicago poets who saw the need for a literary center that would nurture and expand the Chicago audience for great poetry. Since then, the Poetry Center has featured over 200 of the best literary artists of our time. Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs gave The Center's first reading, filling the basement space of the old Museum of Contemporary Art to capacity. Later events were moved to The Art Institute of Chicago, and our programs now have a home in the Ballroom of The School of the Art Institute. In 1996, the Center forged a partnership with the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and The Poetry Center is in residence at the School. The Poetry Center has featured Nobel Prize winners Joseph Brodsky, Derek Walcott and Czeslaw Milosz, and other prominent writers including Gwendolyn Brooks, W.S. Merwin and John Ashbery. The Loft has also presented readings by Mei-mei Berssenbrugge, Ana Castillo, Robert Creeley, Mark Doty, Carolyn Forché, Louise Glück, Thom Gunn, Paul Hoover, Ted Hughes, Denis Johnson, Heather McHugh, Paul Muldoon, Stephen Spender, William Stafford, Ellen Bryant Voigt, John Yau and Adam Zagajewski. RESPONSE TO THE SURVEY 1. What are the elements of a great poetry reading? A great poetry reading needs, first of all, a great poet. Not a "great" poet necessarily, in the graybeard sense (though this certainly doesn't hurt), but someone whose work and reading style can transmit into the audience a sense of wonder and electricity, a sense that passing time has been captured and celebrated in a way that everyday life and even the other arts cannot match. The test of a great poetry reading is if, following the event, you do not wish to get back into your car, and would rather go walking. Other elements may include a nice space, a good sound system, a large and/or educated crowd. These things can help, but they are secondary. Homer didn't have them. A reading is bad when the reader fails to connect. Period. No fancy sound system or wealth of comfortable chairs can make up for this. 2. Have you identified any trends in the way that poets read their work? Are these trends concurrent with stylistic trends in the writing itself? The short answer to this question is No. The longer answer is we have many different kinds of poets with different styles and influences, and none of them is really better than the other. In the right hands, any style can be good. The honest answer is that I personally prefer poets who inhabit their lines so deeply and fully that their poems seem almost like private remarks, not "lines of art." Kenneth Koch is like this; so are Dean Young and James Tate. 3. What role do poetry readings play in the literary community? Do readings play different roles in different communities? Certain communities value readings differently. I've heard Frank O'Hara hated reading his work, but for Allen Ginsberg, readings were politically charged, sometimes religious events. I once saw Maya Angelou sing; we recently had Robert Creeley, who whispered. Beyond all of this, I am reluctant to generalize about the role readings play in different communities. 4. What effect does location have on the experience of a poetry reading? What kind of atmosphere do you try to cultivate? Personally, I hate readings in bars, because of the many competing noises: clanging bottles, ringing phones, barfing patrons, etcetera. That I have been moved to tears at bar readings only barely mitigates these feelings. Readings in auditoriums are more august and easier to control, as an administrator I prefer them, but a lousy reader in a fancy theater can only be a drag, seem stuffy and make enemies for poetry. 5. What do audience members expect from poetry readings? Or, to put it differently, what do you believe that audiences should expect—of themselves as listeners and of the individual poets as readers? The audience expects either to be transported in the unique manner of great readings or to fall asleep. As our customers, they have every right to expect this, even if it sets the bar a bit high for most readers. 6. Do you find that poetry audiences are growing more skilled at listening, or do you find that they are still predominantly text-bound in their reception? We are born knowing how be transported; it need not be taught, only introduced. Reading is probably harder to teach than listening, as it is less passive and requires more work, though you can also read your favorite poem any time without having it mangled by a reader who doesn't understand it the way you do. I say again: no one approach is better than any other. How well the approach is implemented is what matters. 7. Can you characterize the relationship between the poet and the audience? Is the relationship comparable to other forms of performance? The poet gives to the audience, but the audience also gives to the poet. (I sound like a fortune cookie). This relationship has some similarities to other types of performance, but poetry is quieter than, say rock music is, and so in poetry there's less, like dancing. Small Press Traffic Literary Arts Center Elizabeth Treadwell Jackson, Executive Director BACKGROUND STATEMENT Since 1974, Small Press Traffic Literary Arts Center has been putting our money on contemporary writers of all age, ethnic, and socioeconomic and cultural groups. We believe that the most innovative, radical, and important writing is often found in the work of authors not represented in mainstream media. In particular, we promote and support those writers who push the limits of traditional literature and how we speak and think about the world; as well as those whose work is informed by and part of "other" traditions. This writing needs to be heard, and our mission is to identify such work, nurture it and bring it to new and loyal audiences. Eileen Myles has described our readings series as "the most important on the West Coast." Founded by local San Francisco writers, SPT was an important birthplace for both the New Narrative and the Language Poetry "schools" and continues to be central to the lives of practicing writers and readers of many sorts and thus to the development of new literatures. Some of the poets who have read in our series include Michael Amnasan, Charles Bernstein, Norma Cole, Wanda Coleman, Beverly Dahlen, Rob Fitterman, Renee Gladman, Carla Harryman, Lyn Hejinian, Erica Hunt, Myung Mi Kim, Dorothy Trujillo Lusk, Harryette Mullen, Hoa Nguyen, Michael Palmer, Leslie Scalapino, Lorenzo Thomas, Rodrigo Toscano, Hung Q. Tu, Rosmarie Waldrop, Keith Waldrop, Barrett Watten—the list is long. We host approximately 60 readers per year. RESPONSE TO THE SURVEY I believe poetry readings—or more simply (completely), oral storytelling, singing, recitation—have always played a huge role in the way we as individuals and cultures render and experience our lives and surroundings. I think it is very important to keep the oral aspect of poetry alive—in fact it seems to me impossible not to—no matter how interesting and thrilling the textual experience can be for both reader and writer. So in answer to your question, I would have to say that poetry readings have always had an effect on the way that poetry is written, and vice versa. In some ways it's too easy to separate the two; on a deep level the difference between reading and listening is not that great, although they do take different kinds of concentration and do provide different kinds of satisfaction. According to an article I read recently in Poetry New York, poetry is the sixth most sought after topic on the Internet. Perhaps amazingly, the audience is there, many times more willing to enter the discipline of reading poetry than the mainstream media can imagine. The Loft Literary Center Jerod Santek, Director of Programs for Writers BACKGROUND STATEMENT In 1974, a group of poets began to meet in the loft of Marly Rusoff's bookstore near the University of Minnesota. They came together out of a need to share work with other poets, receive feedback, get advice on publishing and, most importantly, listen to one another. This simple meeting of like-minds evolved into the Loft Literary Center, the nation's most comprehensive literary center. Among the poets who have appeared at the Loft are Philip Levine, Marge Piercy, Galway Kinnell, Mona Van Duyn, Howard Nemerov, Audre Lorde, Michael Ondaatje, David Ignatow, Gerald Stern, June Jordan, Lisel Mueller, Yehuda Amichai, Allen Ginsberg, Nikki Giovanni, C.K. Williams, Linda Gregg, Stanley Kunitz, Sharon Olds, Maxine Kumin, Derek Walcott, Tess Gallagher, Denise Levertov, Alberto Rios, Rita Dove, Joy Harjo, Jorie Graham, Wanda Coleman, Edwin Torres, Claribel Alegria, Marilyn Hacker, Sonia Sanchez, Elaine Equi, Li-Young Lee, Yusef Komunyakaa, Marilyn Chin, Michael Collier, Ai, Agha Shahid Ali, Cathy Song, Lucille Clifton, Yvegeny Yevtushenko and Gwendolyn Brooks. RESPONSE TO THE SURVEY 1. What are the elements of a great poetry reading? There are three key elements to a great poetry reading: a great reader, a great coordinator and a great audience. A reader is great in terms of presentation, enthusiasm and interaction with the audience. Nothing is worse for an audience than a poet who stands page-to-face and rattles through ten poems, providing only the title as a break in between them. A few lines of introduction to many (but not all) of the poems helps the audience not only by placing the poem in some sort of context, but by providing them a chance to rest from the poem they just heard. Like comedy, timing is everything. I love hearing poets whose joy about their work is obvious. Nothing is worse than a poet who assumes the audience would prefer to be somewhere else. I cringe every time I hear a poet (or any reader) say "I'm sure you have better things to do and appreciate you coming out tonight" or "I only have three more poems to read so relax, it's almost over." A great reading also relies heavily on a great coordinator. If you are planning a reading series, plan it! Be present at all the readings or have a representative present for you. Have clear communication with the poets beforehand about the program and what is expected of them. Welcome the audience and introduce the writers in an inviting and enthusiastic way. I have been to numerous readings—mostly at bookstores and coffee shops—where the host has said something like "Here's so-and-so who's going to read" and then left the audience. Or worse, where there was no host at all, and the readers were put in the awkward position of introducing themselves. As a readings coordinator, you must have had a good reason for inviting these people to read. Share that with the audience. And show your readers they are appreciated, valued and respected. Audience is also key. No matter the size of the audience, an attentive, enthusiastic audience makes a great experience for the reader and for other audience members. The absolute worst thing I've seen in poetry readings in the past couple of years is people taking cell-phone calls during the reading. Turn the cell-phones and pagers off. 2. Have you identified any trends in the way that poets read their work? Are these trends concurrent with stylistic trends in the writing itself? I do believe there is more awareness of the performance of poetry than was perhaps the case 20 years ago. I think there is more of a return to, and respect for, the oral tradition out of which poetry grew. As a result, I think more poets are putting more into their readings than has been the case. 3. What role do poetry readings play in the literary community? Do poetry readings play different roles in different literary communities? We sponsor a variety of readings at the Loft, which feature nationally—and internationally—known writers, writers known primarily in Minnesota or the Upper Midwest, and emerging writers who are just beginning to build their audiences. Frequently the emerging writers are paired with the nationally known writers. In our Mentor Series, for instance, two poets who have not yet published books read with the visiting poetry mentor. Past participants have said that the opportunity to read with the likes of Li-Young Lee or Rita Dove marked a rite of passage for them. 4. What effect does location have on the experience of a poetry reading? What kind of atmosphere do you try to cultivate? Location, location, location! I think location can have a great effect on readings. When I first started at the Loft seven years ago, we were located in an old elementary school that had been converted into a community center. The Loft had about a quarter of the space and we held our readings in the school gym—frequently just an hour after a basketball game or belly-dancing class. There was something rather sweet about that setting—Mark Doty joked about decking the basketball hoops and light fixtures with paper streamers to give it that high school prom look. Over the years, we've held readings in a variety of settings: churches, concert halls, college lecture rooms, coffee houses, bars, even a bowling alley. There are pros and cons to each of them. The formal and sterile atmosphere of many academic halls can be rather alienating for both readers and audience, but so can be the noise and distractions of a coffee house or bar. We are now housed in Open Book, a literary arts center we share with Milkweed Editions and the Minnesota Center for Book Arts. We have a beautiful performance space—a space that is versatile enough to give a sense of intimacy to an event, whether 20 or 200 people attend. 5. Do you find that poetry audiences are growing more skilled at listening, or do you find that they are still predominantly text-bound in their reception? I believe audiences are less text-bound than was the case 20 years ago. Perhaps it is the proliferation of books-on-tape or Internet sites that provide the opportunity to hear writers read their work. Perhaps it is because there are more reading series today than used to exist. I notice fewer audience members following along the text copy as poets read, something I noticed often during the 1980s. 6. Can you characterize the relationship between the poet and the audience? Is the relationship comparable to other forms of performance? The opportunity for interaction—particularly question and answer—is one of the great things about readings. When we added the Q&A portion to our Mentor Series readings, many of the emerging writers expressed concern that they couldn't do it, that they weren't at a level in their work that anyone would want to ask questions of them. What they discovered, though, was that it led them to think of their work in different ways. I think it's been a great opportunity for both audience and readers. 7. Do you believe that poetry readings have begun to have an effect on the way that poetry is being written? I like to think that the oral tradition of poetry always influenced the way poetry has been written. The sound, rhythm, cadence, music of poetry has always been central to what makes it poetry. So I think readings have always had an effect on the written text.