Poetry in the Park

Since its heyday during the Beat Generation and the Psychedelic Sixties, poetry reading has dropped out of sight into a few scattered coffee-houses around the Boston are. As part of their continuing efforts to revive interest in the artform of the spoken word, the "Sidewalk Poets" held their second annual "Poetry in the Park" series of readings in the Boston Common last weekend.

As Master of Ceremonies "Sidewalk Sam" Guillemin explained, "The spoken word has a living quality, particularly in the middle of the park, in the middle of the day." Instead of hearing poetry in the public parks, "we often hear harangues in those areas that should be the arenas for the noblest expression." "Poetry in the Park" is one attempt by the Sidewalk poets to set this trend aright.

Explaining what was meant by "harangues," one of the Sidewalk Poets, Jack Powers, mentioned that most public speakers, selling "religion, politics or a product," are a "turnoff to the spoken word."

Ironically, religion and politics were outselling poetry even as he spoke. A nearby born-again Christian band drew crowds that sometimes equaled the 100 or so people present at the reading. Just a few a steps past further away, 1000 people gathered to protest the American military presence in El Salvador. While young academics and older artists gathered about the poets for the pure enjoyment of art, the various shades of baby-boomers flocked to the competing events searching, one imagines, for "self."

This dramatic split between poetry and social causes was reinforced by the readers' selections of poems. One would have hoped that the "Big Chill" generation's perspective on poetry might have produced meatier selections than the "Midnight Ride of Paul Revere." But, designed to appeal to an audience new to poetry readings, the selections often instead resembled what WBCN's Charles Laquidara called "that stuff I hated in high school."

Even among contemporary works, there was a distinct lack of poems with a message. Springteen's social ballads were passed over for his purely imagistic "Blinded by the Light," and Ginsberg's bittersweet critiques of American mores were superseded by some of Kerouac's blood imagery work.

Older audience members seemed content with the purely sensual poetry, but students in the audience had various criticisms to offer on the format. While Vivian Wong of the Harvard Advocate thought its was a generally good idea to get poetry out into the public spaces, she felt" the program could use a little more structure"--some unifying theme. Sheila Melvin was more direct in her criticism. Referring to the almost condescending nature of the selections, she said that "poets shouldn't come to the people, people should come to the poets."

While agreeing with Wong that the event was a worthwhile idea, Melvin also criticised the general quality of the readings as "poor." Many of the readers assumed a drawing room tone, which might have sufficed in a library but which could not keep the attention of listeners under a glaring mid-afternoon sun. The few instances of enthusiasm and creative eccentricity on the part of the reader elicited warm response from an otherwise listless audience.

In one case in point, Brother Blue spoke with his usual eloquence as he stood on one of the Hyde-Park style soapboxes scattered near the Statehouse. He thought the event was a great way to "touch the hearts" of the people, and put forth his signature soulful enthusiasm to prove the point.

Sidewalk Sam also demonstrated an energy in reading that justified the amount of work he put into the event. And one reader succeeded in drawing a crowd by tumbling on the ground and foaming at the mouth.

For many in the audience, the big draw of the event was the appearance of Garrison Keillor. And his performance did not fall short. Keillor read naturally, repeated sections as he saw fit, and, without being condescending, made sure the audience followed along. Ironically enough, however, it was a "product," Keillor's celebrity status and his new book, not pure appreciation of the spoken word that had to be "sold" to attract people to the event.

Despite Keillor's presence, Boston-area college students were notably lacking at the event. Guillemin who, with the help of several other poets, spent 150 hours telephoning various college organizations, explained the difficulty of contacting students who are rarely in one place long enough to receive a call.

But the under-attendance of this year's reading should ignite concern among area literati to make next year's event poetry in the park more meaningful. Clearly, in the midst of apathy and a lack of unifying message, college students should take up the slack and begin to make the public artistic statement for this generation. Such a statement would not only present powerful images, but would also present powerful ideas. And, at least, college students could bring youthful energy to an art form that is in danger of being forgotten.