Perth Festival Interview: 'Solid Air' breathes new life into poetry for Perth Festival
Spoken word poetry captures the emotion of poetry with the immediacy of performance. Recognising the growing audience for spoken word both in Australia and New Zealand, David Stavanger and Anne-Marie Te Whiu have collected some of the most poignant and powerful poems in Solid Air: Australian and New Zealand Spoken Word. Bec Bowman spoke to Anne-Marie ahead of her appearance at the Festival of Ideas and Literature this weekend about her experiences with spoken word poetry and how this genre fits into the literary festival scene.
Can you share your first experience hearing poetry spoken aloud?
It must have been around 2007 or 2008, perhaps? I was in the audience at a gig in Brisbane. Pascalle Burton and David Stavanger (aka Ghostboy) were on the stage. I don’t remember what the poem was about specifically, but I do remember feeling completely drawn in and loving the way they used the spoken word form in a dangerous, humorous and brilliant way. Those types of moments are pivotal in pushing the definition and boundaries of spoken word.
Soon after that, watching Hinemoana Baker perform, I was nothing short of blown away. Talk about mana wahine - I love her work.
Mana wahine is loosely translated as woman of strength in Maori. As a Maori woman yourself, how do you think spoken word poetry fits within First Nations cultures?
I think, for me from a Māori – Australian perspective, spoken word is and always has been the wings of First Nations cultures. Words carried by timeless oral traditions shape and inform that which is life. I was recently back up at the Waipuna marae in Panguru, Aotearoa, (where my whakapapa connects me) and the entire ceremony was the most epic and perfect display of spoken word. The musicality and rhythm of exchange, poignant pauses, language on the wind, in the mountains, in the water, it's all deeply and directly interconnected to First Nations culture; it’s just not necessarily labelled as such.
What was the process of collecting these poems and songs for the book?
The process certainly wasn’t one which I could say was done in 10 easy steps. It was organic, it was robust and it was challenging.
Myself and my co-editor, David Stavanger, started with a list of names. This was then followed by a list of pieces. Then we wrote another list of names and another list of pieces. Then another. And another. Then we compiled those lists to a spreadsheet and created another spreadsheet and another. We had multiple discussions about multiple poets and we each fought for whom we believed should be a part of the anthology. Luckily there weren’t too many disagreements. Generally, we were very much on the same page which was great. The publishers, University of Queensland Press at times had to have their arms twisted to include one or two pieces, which made me all the more determined. That is the Aries way.
Distilling 120 poets and pieces from 2 countries spanning 10 years in to an anthology is a ridiculous task. But of course, as difficult things do, I learned a lot.
There were definitely names and pieces that we wish we could have included but factors such as ensuring all contributors were paid (i.e sticking to a grant-funded budget) and creating a book that was manageable to hold while reading, were influences when we started to look at the potential length and breadth of the anthology.
We did not set out to create the be-all-and-end-all of spoken word anthologies. It’s the first time anything like this has been done in Australia and New Zealand, and hopefully not the last. The process of collecting the poems for the anthology took about 2 years.
I feel we’ve been true to ourselves and to the spoken word form with Solid Air. It is a sort of poetic time capsule which I hope gives people a window in to what spoken word has been, is and can be.
What do you think spoken word brings to literature festivals? Do you think we should be programming more of it?
For me, spoken word is to literature festivals as to what a kitchen is to house parties.
It is the hearth. Spoken word is magnetic because people want to listen deeply. They come to be in the audience and give over, to let go, to take it all in.
I believe the role of festivals is very powerful in that they can offer punters the opportunity to step away from the dominant culture, away from privilege and predictability. When spoken word is programmed within a literature festival, it brings the in-between-ness, a spark, an invitation to think and experience language and thinking in a unique and often challenging way. When done well, spoken word can be an extraordinary cloak, woven by the poet and worn by all.
As well, I don’t think it’s necessarily about programming more diverse spoken word poets. Of course, that is ideal, but what is key to examine and deconstruct is the festival team and board. Who is doing the programming? We need more Indigenous and POC people at the helm of our literature festivals. It’s been a gift to be programmed by Sisonke Msimang, the Curator for Literature and Ideas at the Perth Festival.
Who are some spoken word artists and poets we should be keeping an eye out for?
I have been lucky enough to experience many moments where artists have opened up the sky and possibilities of the spoken word form. During 2015-2017 when I co-directed the Queensland Poetry Festival I got to witness poets cracking open art.
I experienced live performances from people such as Tishani Doshi, Ali Cobby Eckermann, Grace Taylor, Joy Harjo, Alison Whittaker, Andy Jackson, Quinn Eades, Hera Lindsay Bird, Jeet Thayil, Ben Brown, Courtney Sina Meredith, Jeanine Leane, Saba Vasefi, Lionel Fogarty, Kate Durbin, Omar Musa and Natalie Harkin. I could list a hundred more easily. All of these poets and so many more have had a significant impact on me and the way I experience spoken word.
