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What's so funny 'bout spoken Word? >> Fortner Anderson compares comedy and poetry by RUPERT BOTTENBERG
If poets have in fact been supplanted by comedians, where does this leave the spoken-word artist, that strange creature lurking somewhere between the two? "There's a lot of similarities between comedians and spoken-word artists," says Fortner Anderson. "Because you're out there alone, just you and your words. And also the subject matter... both talk about their emotional lives." As a spoken-word artist himself, not to mention radio host, organizer and newsletter publisher, Anderson should know whereof he speaks. The similarities are rather self-evident: the microphone ("Is this thing on?"), the glaring lights ("Boy, it's hot in here!"), the sea of unsympathetic eyes ("You people are a, uh... cough, cough... wonderful audience..."). Moreover, keeping the audience amused, if not in stitches, may often be the only key to survival. It's certainly present in Anderson's own work, in his layered emulations of religious hysteria and his surreal cocktails of pained dignity and pop cynicism. "There is humour there," he says, "at times even quite coarse. But I don't know if that would be the chief reason why someone would be attracted to it." Indeed, poetry draws from a wider palette of human emotion than comedy ever could. Combining the delicate, introspective nuances of poetry with the immediate appeal of comedy can be a very potent artistic force. Think of the confrontational humour of Lenny Bruce, the Cambodian capers of Spalding Gray, or even the deadpan disgust of our own Jonathan Goldstein. "What's that poem he does? 'A Million and One Ejaculations'? That's of course deeply funny, but at the same time it touches on a sea of other issues." Now, if the comedian's worst nightmare is an audience that won't laugh, a poet's would be one that does... at the most inappropriate time. Given the crap-to-quality ratio in the spoken-word scene, it's all too real a possibility. It only takes a beer or two to turn a spoiled suburban white chick spewing low-grade feminist "thought" and self-pitying diary excerpts into a veritable laff riot. Still, despite the rampant amateurism, excruciating excess and gnashing of teeth, there's something about the spoken-word scene that keeps 'em coming back... even if the posters threaten us with 'open-mic sessions.' "There's such a desert out there," says Anderson, "that it's one of the few occasions where people talk about their real emotional problems, the problems that affect them and the audience. I think that's why the audiences are attracted, even if at times the performers are terrible and ineffective." Anderson performs as part of La Vache Enragée along with Ian Ferrier, Regie Cabico and others, at Cabaret, Sunday, May 31, 8:30pm, $7
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The poet Percy Bysshe Shelley once wrote that "poets are the unacknowledged legislators of society." That was a century and a half ago. These days, it seems the task has been taken up by the standup comedians. For instance, Dan Quayle will never be president of the U.S., not since any shred of credibility he might once have had has long since been trampled by the legions of wiseguys populating the world of late-night comedy TV.