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Show Across the great city of salt, people search for ways to spend their precious free time. Some shiver in line outside Cineplex Odeon awaiting their turn to purchase tickets for another uninspired Hollywood vehicle. Others sip and slip into intoxication in downtown clubs before local rock heroes take the stage, vocal chords struggling air. Although these in smoke-riddeexamples are viable options, sometimes it pays to entertain unexpected alternatives. In the corner a long table supports an array of lemon bars, punch and fancy plastic mugs of scaldincoffee. Upon first glance, this g-hot does not seem to be the makings of a wild weekend. Still, a need for something different compels you to stay. You grab some pastries and settle in, maintaining a skeptical eye on the stage. A striking Chilean steps up, and apologizes for his strong accent. This is not the first time local poet Hector Ahumada has stood before a crowd of strangers and exposed his soul. Ahumada, who also lends his talents to the visual arts, has come to revel in the encouraging atmosphere. "I am not in search of talent and I am not here to judge," Ahumada says. His first poem, "Ode to the Hot Dog," brings the singular voices of individual attendees together in appreciative laughter. Everyone shares in the glorious absurdity of witty observation. Ahumada has succeeded in bridging the gap between performer and audience. It is typical of an achievement that Slam poets strive to obtain, one that speaks to the question, "How do you get people to care about poetry?" n cloth-covere- d don't want to bastardize art." Jaguar Duffy sits in the back of Cup of Joe nursing a quad latte and musing "I on his involvement in Salt Lake City's literary scene. An imposing man, his eyes betray initial impressions of a gruff demeanor. Smile lines fall below each brow and around a perpetually open mouth. Duffy, who spent most of his adult life along the Northern California coastline, relocated to Utah on a lark. "The company I worked for was shut down in Monterey and they promised me a signing bonus if I made the move," he says. "I swore I'd leave once my employment with them ceased." Five separate jobs later, Duffy maintains residency in Salt Lake City. Now, in addition to teaching homeless youth in a program sponsored by the Challenge America Grant, Duffy hosts an informal slam at Cup of Joe. "Originally we were doing it every third Saturday of the month," he says. "However, people seemed to be confused by the dates, so now we're doing it weekly." Attendance has increased, but numbers tend to fluctuate without reason. Obviously the popularity of such events depends upon adequate publicity. Spreading the word is easier when poets have an organization behind them. Fortunately, there's a revived force in town that's ready to fulfill such a need. Duffy was hosting a poetry night at another cafe when he first became involved with a relatively new spoken-wor- d movement. Thanks in large part to the efforts of local writer Melissa Bond, slam poetry had taken root in Utah and Duffy was invited to participate in its rise. Slam Utah features five board members including Duffy, Jean Howard, Phread Thaller, Gheeta Smith and Michele Lehmann. "We have yet to formalize a mission statement," says Duffy. "However, I'd like to see us become the support system for various venues across the state." Through their efforts the organization hopes to accomplish a number of goals, namely the formation of a group of poets to compete are also tentative There nationally. for of an educationthe creation plans al outreach to high schools and junior high schools, specifically geared around performance. Slam Utah follows in the footsteps of a few instrumental pioneers; artists who envisioned a world entranced by spoken word. high-calib- v er Salt Lake City native Jean Howard was one of the original members of the Chicago movement. A former director for the National Poetry Video Festival Howard in Chicago, the recalls initial struggles to entice an audience. ' Our goal was to divert people's attention," Howard says. However, getting that man at the bar to turn away from his beloved Cubs game required some techniques. "We were competing with TV and film," Howard says. "We needed to be more theatrical." Current trends continue to point away from poetry as a popular source for entertainment. Thankfully, there exists a small faction devoted to improving the status of spoken word. multi-talente- d non-tradition- al z o ac O S z Art, Music and Poetry" featured Alex "EITHER MOVE 01 BE MOWED" Ezra Pound When Jason Stewart came up with the idea to put local authors on display at the Orbit Cafe, he had no idea it would be met with such enthusiasm. Along with Orbit's Marc Huntington, Stewart's plans went better than expected. "Our first show attracted around 400 people," Stewart said. The eatery's "Night of popular west-sid- e Caldiero and Trent Harris along with members of Street Legal Theater, a performance art troupe. Success inspired Stewart to put together another event. The Dec. 12, 2002, "Night of Art, Music, and Literature," provided an opportunity to hear prosaic selections from local writers Jeff Metcalf and David Kranes. The result was decidedly more mellow and than the inaugural show. didn't see as high of a turn-out,- " said Stewart, but the warm response given by those in attendance encouraged Stewart to put on a third event. low-profi- le "We On Thursday, Jan. 16, Orbit Cafe will poet David Stevens studies up to make sure he can deliver an excellent piece and wow his audience. Slam three-minute-or-le- ss host, "A Night of Art, Music and Poetry." The evening will feature a verbal battle between two spoken word performance teams. U Professor Jeff Metcalf will play referee while celebrity judges critique each round. "Orbit is not Full-Conta- ct 10-rou- five-memb- see poetry, page RED Magazine R12 January 16, 2003 Rj |
