a journalist’s p.o.v. from the syracuse show
Cafe con Leche highlights Latino arts
if ya like the article, let em know & let em know who sent ya
love ya like the comics section…
a journalist’s p.o.v. from the syracuse show
Cafe con Leche highlights Latino arts
if ya like the article, let em know & let em know who sent ya
love ya like the comics section…
mucho thanks to ms caitlin johnson for putting together this story…
In the borough that gave birth to hip hop, poetry has been steeling the limelight these days. But this is not Samuel Coleridge’s poetry, or even Langston Hughes’s. This poetry comes from the Bronx and it was made for the people who live there.
"It’s a great time to be an artist in the Bronx," said one of the borough’s rising stars, Oscar Bermeo. "(We’re) keeping a lot of poetry in the Bronx, and displaying pride in where we live. Art will always flourish on Fifth Ave. It is more of a challenge, more rewarding to keep it where you grew up."
The foundation for Bermeo’s generation of poets was laid more than forty years ago by the creators of hip-hop and the Nuyorican poets. Young Bronx poets blend these traditions with their original styles. The result is a kind of poetry where theatrics and presentation is an important in conveying the message.
"It’s coming out of hip-hop," said Claude Grant, a poet and director of administration at Bronx Community College. "There are things that each generation does with culture that allows them to own it. Nowadays it is more important for a poet to be able to read their poem."
Hip-hop began in the Bronx in the 70’s when black and Latino teenagers discovered how to scratch records, break dance and rap. Several years earlier, many Bronx poets of Puerto Rican descent like Americo Casiano and Jose Angel Figueroa of were instrumental in starting the Nuyorican poetry movement. They wrote about social injustice, racism and poverty as well as their culture and universal human experiences, Figueroa said.
Bermeo, a leader of the newest vanguard, recently won the BRIO (Bronx Recognizes Its Own) award for his work as a teaching artist and poet. Bermeo is a member of LouderARTS, a nonprofit group that encourages poetry within the community. The 6-year-old group offers open mic nights at Manhattan venues like Bar 13.
Now, every second and fourth Tuesday of the month, the group gathers at famed poetry bar Blue Ox, at 139th St. in the Bronx, for "Acentos," a Latino poetry night.
"We’d like to be thought of as the rebirth of poetry in the Bronx," said Rich Villar, 26, who travels from Rockland County to collaborate with Bermeo and other artists. "I’d like to be thought of as a reversal of the trend of a large vast wasteland of ghetto town."
Because of things like open mic nights sponsored by the Bronx Museum of Art and a writer’s center at the Bronx Council on the Arts, poetry has spread from Hunts point to Highbridge.
Today’s poets act out their poems and intone their emotions, drawing the audience in. At an open mic night at the Bronx museum last month, they snapped their fingers and played the bongos.
David Roberts, or D-Black’s voice boomed through the room that mid September night. "No more songs about fight the power and talking about revolution. Not it’s all about the Benjamins Baby and crack sale distribution," he said. His gestures mirrored the anger in his frustration in his voice as he lamented the commercialization of hip-hop.
Bermeo’s poems drift back and forth between English and Spanish and he writes about food, love, language and community. In Bermeo’s poem Sorta-Rican, after he explains to Juan, the friendly bodega owner that he is not from "la isla," Puerto Rico. In response, Juan asks, "Then tell me, how is Mexico this time of year?"
Bermeo’s poems are always about his experience—either as an Ecuadorian feeling outnumbered in a land of Puerto Ricans or as a Latino male growing up in a borough ravaged by drugs and crime. Like the Nuyoricans, he constantly searches for a way to make his experience universal by embracing his community’s way of life.
His poem The New York Times Finally Go It Right When They Took the 'R' Out of My "A'ight" succinctly describes why he and his contemporaries use slang in their work. "Iambic pentameter does not lend itself to fire escapes," is its only line.
The new style is vibrant, edgy and accessible and appeals to young people, like the 16-year-old Bronx poet Jasmine Morales. When she recites her piece Black Borriqua, a poem about her African-American and Puerto Rican heritage, she sounds suspiciously like a rapper.
"Got the Spanish eyes with the nappy black hair," she said while gesturing sassily to the snappy rhythm.
No longer does poetry belong to distant white men like T.S. Elliot and Walt Whitman, and it helps spark an interest in all things literary, Casiano said.
"The methodology they use is a little different," said Casiano, a featured poet in Russell Simmons Def Jam Poetry anthology. "They want to manifest it and they want to do it their way. Whatever helps the word helps me."
a few weeks back i saw a bad play that made the arrogant lil mofo in
me think that i could actually write a good play or, better yet said,
another one-man play that poets always seem to have in them. i still
may have that little seed in mah dome but last night i got to see a
legitimately wonderful production down at the Public Theater, John
Patrick Shanley’s “Sailor’s Song”
it started a lil heavy handed but then quickly burst into some insane
moments that includes a medium, a deceased Punjabi life insurance
salesman, a rendition of “Santa Lucia,” an unseen black man that only
arrives with the rain, some wonderful poetic moments that mimic real
life as opposed to a laborious soliloquy and a couple of genuine life
lessons
best part, of course, was getting the tickets for free but then they
also turned out to be GOOD free tickets as i arrive at the production
all late and still get front row seats.
off to 13 in a bit and will try out a new “almost” memorized piece
that isn’t really that new but i have yet to really perform it
love ya like the new hotness
by thanksgiving, i will have the chapbook ready
not as good as some pavo y pasteles
but close enough
For the crew I run with, few things are better than scoring a good payday for your poetry. Most of the folks I know wouldn’t charge a dime to read their work for the right cause and what better cause than a brand new audience that isn’t judging you for any past reps or sheet like that. Throw in some loot and a few extras like complimentary lodging and airfare and you hit the jackpot! This is exactly what happened this Friday as I visited Syracuse U for La L.U.C.H.A.’s annual Cafe con Leche celebration.
I head to JFK, hop on board a plane and an hour later I am in the New York state highlands. How high? The locals were unanimous in their support for Bush… That’s how high!
They ask me to do a half hour set and while in the hotel room (Which was slammin’!) I have a near panic attack putting together the set list but pull it together in the end and get together a nice set that includes some new hotness in the mix.
Being pretty new to doing college readings, I first expected massive auditoriums of folks and then have settled for just a nice small room of listeners, which basically means, I don’t show up with any expectations any more. If I seem a little more spoiled in the future, blame Syracuse. These folks did it right- professional sound people, a real stage, catering a la jibaro with pernil, arroz con gandules, chicharon de pollo, empanada de pollo, empanada de res, maduros and the all time favorite, red Kool Aid! WEPA!! Add an awesome soundtrack (Thanks to co-feature, Shaggy Flores) and some of the best-dressed minorities in the highlands and for a minute, I thought I was at the Copa.
That’s the good news, with the bad news being that I am first up to bat. More jitters as the emcees announce me while Shaggy throws on Babe Ruth’s “The Mexican†and I am off to the races.
THE (un)USUAL SUSPECTS
-Mercy on the Battlefield
-Sorta-Rican
–Capicu
-Getting Ronald Reagan to Visit the South Bronx (an intro into the short poem portion of our evening)
-Poem for the Hispanics Who Insist on Mispronouncing the Menu Items at the Chino-Latino Restaurant
-The New York Times Finally Got It Right When They Took the ‘R’ Out of My “Aight!”
-Martin Espada’s “Rebellion is the Circle of a Lover’s Hands”
-Where’s the New Shit, O?
-Poem for Dia de los Muertos (new.hotness)
-Killing all the Stars (new.hotness)
–Oda Para Leticia
–Ceviche
In the “Reversal of Fortune” department, the poetry went over pretty well while my banter was wearing thin. I may be over exaggerating on how well the poetry went over cuz I could feel the crowd slipping from me towards the end of the set. I could blame it on “Leticia†but I actually hit some new highs reading that bad boy even though it was off the page. Ditto with the page version of “New Shit.†It was also cool finding the nerve to bust out some new.hotness at a feature though in actuality I needed it in the set maybe more to keep me on my toes than the audience. I front loaded this list with the golden oldies towards the front but I think I mixed in enough tonal shifts (TM Mara.Wherethehelldidmybloggo.Jebsen). The honest thing to say is that I may not have been the SLAM.riffic poet that a college (re: Friday Nuyo) audience wants to hear. Final grade would probably be a B+ but I know I gave these folks their money’s worth.
In preparation for last week’s louderTRIBUTE show, I memorized Yousef Komuyaaka’s “Blue Light Lounge Sutra for the Performance Poets at Harold Park Hotel” which now ranks as my all time fave how.to.dis.wack.ass.mofos.on.the.mic poem. There are some serious truths in this poem and it’s all done in a way that goes past being petty but still leaves a mark, ya know?
Let me end this tangent now before this turns into a novella. And end it with this lil ditty- I was at the Syracuse airport by 5 in the am so that I could make sure to be at work by 9am and as of this writing I have only enjoyed two bouts of one hour sleep in the last 40 hours. Poet rock star? Not yet. Not even close.
Love ya like freqent flyer miles!