The KGBar is a communist-themed bar up a flight of stairs from the townhouse-and pub-cluttered 4th Street. At the top of the stairs I round a dimly lit corner and find myself in a high ceilinged pub room packed with people conversing before the show. The crowd seems very informal, various ages sporting different fashion senses, engulfed in the smoky and whispering ambience. On the wall hangs pictures of Lenin, Russian generals and communist propaganda, along with the salient symbol of the red army, Trotsky’s face superimposed on Saint George as he fights against the dragon, which is draped behind the bar. At the far corner of the room, near the giant, thick red curtains, is a short podium with a desk lamp, where the poets will read.
The first poet is introduced by Laura Cronk, co-host of the reading series. She first says that she hopes that the “Language Gods smile here tonight” and then segues into Michael Gizzi’s introduction. She describes his work as “grounded in the traditions of poetry without being ‘tight-assed’.” Gizzi, an ageing slender man with silver wavy hair, reads from his book “New Depths of Deadpan.” With an enunciated and measured tone, that both sets a rhythm and impedes a deeper and more profound performance, Gizzi wades through scientific phenomena and literary references, creating a space inhabited by his characters and breaking them with general statements, switching from exclamations towards an other to indentifying with a culpable self. The poems are well crafted, but he seems distanced from his work. The rubbing of colloquialisms with elite diction also creates an ironic feel, and coupled with his turns of phrase, slowly seduces me towards enjoying his work, even though I had issues with his performance at the beginning.
Next, Keith Waldrop, a professor at Brown who has translated many French Symbolist poets, including Baudelaire, is introduced to the podium. Waldrop is an old, wide-framed man with straight, long white hair and a thick, long beard. As he introduces his book, “Shipwreck in Haven” in a Midwestern drawl tinged with high resonant and nasal tones, a siren can be heard out the window. Waldrop goes into great detail about the poems, how they were published and what to expect. Then he launches into his reading. Focusing on each word and exercising control over lacunae, Waldrop crafts an imagistic and symbolic plane. The intricate and vast patchwork of images and words both submerge and enchant me at the same time. His work is symbolic, yet surrealistic. It would be impossible to relate what his poems were about, since they are all abstract yet so nuanced. I sit there, transfixed, attempting to enshrine every single fleeting word. After he finishes, the audience applauds and then goes to the bar for more drinks. I rise from my seat and introduce myself to the two hosts. To my surprise, both of them are affiliated with the New School and that many of the audience were affiliated too. I enjoyed attending this reading and experiencing the colorful dynamics of this venue and its featured poets.
