Poetry (sort of) Review: Ashes in the Air – Ali Alizadeh

I used to think there was a divide between ‘page’ and ‘performance’ poetry. I was clearly in the later camp and didn’t think I liked much poetry for the page, except perhaps Sylvia Plath. But Ashes in the Air by Ali Alizadeh was part of showing me that it’s just a matter of finding page poetry that you like, understand and can connect with.

I’m not exactly sure how you read a poetry book, let alone review. I suppose everyone is different. I basically read it cover to cover, perhaps like you’d read a prose novel, with a pause after each poem to think and breathe. I stopped at a few poems in particular, either to read them over because I was really moved by them or because a first reading was not sufficient and it took me a few more to gain full understanding, or at least enough to get something out of it. I think perhaps you read poetry books a few times and keep coming back to it. Or that’s how I intend to approach it.

But I think reading poetry collections in general can feel a little foreign, to even spoken word poets like myself. I was force fed a bit of poetry in school, but never really made it a habit, beyond being struck by Sylvia Plath’s ‘Daddy’ and ‘Meatworks by Robert Gray. They are two poems in particular that I remember as moving me. I was introduced to spoken word much later and found it accessible, much more than some of the poetry I read in various literary journals and so my opinion about the page and stage divide began to form in my head.

This is important for readers to see where I’m coming from with this review. I have often felt that page poetry requires an advanced education to gain full understanding, which is very much the opposite of something like slam, but Alizadeh’s collection Ashes in the Air really impressed with me with how accessible it felt to me, even though I had to read a couple a few times over. Is that how you read poetry? Is there a right way?

I bought the book after meeting Ali at the Emerging Writers’ Festival in May. In one of the ‘Embassy sessions,’ one of the issues that came up was about the poet’s persona and whether that was important. I feel like it is, and that meeting the poet in question helped to gain an understanding of his work. It’s just a matter of knowing some basic biographical details, perhaps how he speaks and the issues he’s concerned about outside of poetry that allow for this. Does it allow a poet to get to the heart of creating the imagery and poetics without having to labour over explaining details to put the poems in context?

His poetry deals with issues of travel, migration, coming from Iran and living in Australia. The poems that struck me the most were ‘Shut Up’ about an Iranian asylum seeker in detention (I’m always on the look-out for affecting poetry about refugees and asylum seekers in Australia) as well as ‘The Guns of Northcote’ which talks of gentrification and poverty in Melbourne.

Often the choice of how the lines are placed, and where there are line breaks are not obvious to me, with all page poetry, but in this case, it does not prevent me from that simple level of understanding and from there, the more subtle. The form does not force you to live or die in making sense of it, but it allows you to focus on the content of the poems, and the images, which to me seems the most important part. You can write nice sounding poetry, but if it fails to mean anything then it leaves the reader wanting. Alizadeh does not leave me wanting.

Luka, Alia and Joel launch their spoken word tour with a huge crowd

There is always something impressive, and usually surprising, about arriving to a poetry gig and finding a long line and a large crowd full of new faces, non-poets, all eager to hear poetry and spoken word. Though, it probably shouldn’t be surprising when it is to see Luka Lesson, Alia Gabres or Joel McKerrow. And less so, if it is all three in one night.

Luka LessonTonight, the impressive slam trio launched their national tour, Please Resist Me, on home turf, in Melbourne’s Revolt Artspace in Kensington. It’s an impressive space. Large and looking very underground, DIY etc. perfect for the scene but large enough that it fits the growing audience the three are beginning to command, and hopefully introducing to spoken word in a way that will encourage them to check out the other poets around Melbourne.

Alia GabresWe saw the first glimpse of this last year, during the Overload Poetry Festival, where they brought some impressive slam poets from North America to new Melbourne audiences, as part of the Centre for Poetics and Justice. It is their talent and commitment that allows them to project a powerful and wide spotlight on the scene that shows others that we can find these audiences if we deserve it and work hard enough.

Joel McKerrowTheir words and voices speak for themselves. So is hard to describe them or evaluate them with my own in this post, so I’d recommend you buy their CDs, read their books, YouTube them or even turn up to one of their gigs to see it for yourselves. All three are unique in their own way, but are connected by the level of the art, with rich metaphors, nimble tongues and a passion that is infective. And all three present a commitment to social justice and human rights, which I deeply respect, alongside their personal and creative themes.

Tonight, they pushed it further, adding music and backing vocals to some pieces and polishing the whole lot with a professional performance, hosted by Omar Musa, and accompanied by Meena Shamaly, among others. They move on to Canberra, Wollongong, Sydney and Brisbane, which are shows definitely worth going along to if you’re in the area. More info at cpj.org.au.

Spoken word slams into Melbourne in new ways

Perhaps it was the night, the vibe or the crowd that made me excited, but after tonight’s taste of North American slam superstars, I have a ripple of inspiration and a desire to write. That’s perhaps a pretty self-centred outcome from seeing others tear up the stage but Luka urged it himself and for a writer, this is a top endorsement.

Ken ArkindThe crowd was the first thing I noticed. Poetry gigs especially in Melbourne can be hard to fill up, especially with non-poets, and this year one of the drawbacks of the Overload Poetry festival has been the attendance. So, it was a real surprise to see the Footscray Community Arts Centre full, with people I didn’t know and an energetic crowd. I really hope we can catch onto at least some of those people and perhaps see them at other events all year round. It’s encouraging for the future of Melbourne poetry and the kind of culture that Luka and the Centre of Poetics and Justice are breathing into the scene.

Tell It Like It Is, the slam at Footscray that Luka and Alia Gabres curate, pulled out the big guns on tonight, warming us with the finest of Melbourne’s spoken word artists including Luka and Alia themselves, Joel McKerrow and Mel Hughes. And after seeing the international guests, I could see the direction in style our local poets were coming from. There really is something different about ‘slam’ poetry and it’s not competition, it’s not because it’s like hip-hop either.

The three guests, Ken Arkind, Jive Poetic and Shane Koyczan are really nothing like I’ve seen before, especially in the level of talent. Impassioned, delicate, forceful, detailed and full of a bottomless bag of metaphors, they really put the performance element of performance poetry on display, that weave stories and paint pictures that do something in my chest cavity that they managed to describe in a million ways.

The best bet is to Google those names and check them out for yourselves, but seeing it live, feeling the electricity in the room is something else. They pulled a response from the crowd, a kind of interaction that begs you to try and pull that off yourself somewhere else. We were not just listening passively. We were responding.

I called them superstars at the start, but they’re not god-like people held up on a pedestal, bigger than us. They’re humble and just glad to be able to share their words with us.

And out of that, I hope I’m not the only poet that listened to that, felt something new and amazing send shivers up my spine and make me want to write, break some new rules, use their energy and write something that breaks new boundaries and at least tries to bring something what we saw tonight into the tradition of Melbourne poetry.

A taste of Melbourne poetry ten years ago

Last night, in a tightly packed upstairs room at Palookaville on Brunswick Street, this newbie spoken word artist was treated to a bit of Melbourne poetry scene history. The Class of 99 was a selection of the Melbourne scene more than ten years ago that gave birth to the Overload Poetry Festival.

OverloadI wish more of the newer poets were there to get a bit of inspiration and perhaps feed on the nostalgia. I could feel it myself even though I’d never been there when it first happened. Old friends came back into the fold for one night, remembering the readings and the people not with them anymore to remember.

I learnt that more than ten years ago there was at least one poetry reading a night in Melbourne, sometimes more, and there were a heap of paid gigs, ones paid for by the bar. Melbourne poetry, though still strong, seems nothing like what it used to be. And perhaps qualitative too. I guess there needs to be the talent and the enthusiasm to fill so many readings. I could see from just a taste of 99 that there was talent.

There were poets like Angela Costi, Melissa Petrakis, and Clint Greagen. I’d never seen them before. Others, I’d seen here and there. It made me wonder why those that obviously still had talent had left. They still seemed to love it so much. From the introductions and from discussion with Maxine Clarke, it seems that life, marriage, kids and all that took priority and poetry kind of fell away, which is both understandable and sad. We should see more of these poets again, even on occasion. But I feel like Melbourne poetry is missing this depth of quality that would enrich open mics around the city on most nights of the week.

We do have talent now though, and those committed to Melbourne poetry. But it took people like Steve Smart and the late, Sandon Mcleod to step up and get things running. Someone starting something else now, I think, would not be unwelcome.