Poetry Readings

When I was invited to give my first poetry reading, I had never actually attended one. I was still very new to the world of poets and poetry, never took any writing courses, and I've been a bit of a hermit anyway, since moving back to this city. I wasn't worried about getting up in front of an audience; Lord knows I'd been doing that almost all my life as a pianist and singer. But what exactly did a poetry reading entail? YouTube proved to be somewhat helpful. I also asked a poet friend for advice. But in the end, you just have to do it and find out what is the best way for you to communicate to an audience the reflections and insights you've labored so hard to hone into words.

A lot of it has to do with the venue. I was lucky that my first reading was in the intimate space of a small independent bookstore, where my very quiet, introspective poems wouldn't get lost, as they might among the milling customers of a Barnes & Noble. I can't see myself bellowing (albeit over a microphone) phrases like "and wakefulness / becomes a prayer, the holiest of sighs" into the mini-canyons between towering bookshelves. So even though I've been asked a few times to read at Barnes & Noble, I reluctantly and, I hope, graciously, declined.

Then there's the issue of the microphone. Being a classically trained singer, I prefer to project my voice naturally, by taking a proper singer's breath and supporting the sound with unimpeded airflow, and I have no problem being heard in a small to medium sized room. Our natural resonance is always more clear and pleasing to a listener than the tinny, artificial resonance of a speaker system; plus, you don't get those annoying spitted p's that result from having the microphone too close to the mouth. However, I'm well aware that most poets have not had formal vocal training, that many of them have naturally smaller voices, and that sometimes the venue's space is of a size that requires a microphone. At any rate, when using a microphone, don't have it too close, try not to spit your p's, and in the meantime, learn to speak louder if you can.

Also, being a singer, I'm very conscious of tempo. Since I started doing readings and listening to other poets read, I've noticed that some poets tend to deliver everything at the same tempo. Whether that tempo is slow or fast, if sustained for more than ten minutes, it has a lulling effect on the listeners, and they actually stop listening for large chunks at a time. I realize that when there's a certain sameness to a poet's poems -- as I said, mine are mostly introspective -- it may be difficult to change the tempo from poem to poem; but one can and should vary the tempo within a poem. Some phrases, for instance, are more urgent, warranting a speeding up; others require more deliberate emphasis, if they contain words with particular meaning and importance. If a poem is metered (many of mine are), try to find a good balance between respecting the meter, and giving a natural rhythm to the text to avoid seasickness in your listeners. Some poets like to observe enjambments, others pay them minimal attention, preferring to observe the number of feet in a line. That's a matter of personal taste. Sometimes a phrase is simply difficult to say because it has too many complicated consonants clustered together (case in point); these require greater articulation and a slight slowing of tempo. Hopefully, those phrases are few and far between, music and sound being crucial elements in a poem.

Which brings us to diction and pitch. Whatever tempo you take, make sure it isn't so fast that the words become melded into an incomprehensible mass. A good poet chooses his words carefully, purposefully; he sometimes agonizes over his choices, because he knows that the wrong word can ruin the impact of a phrase, and even the whole piece. So in your reading, treat those carefully chosen words with the respect due them, by pronouncing them with great care, even when you take a faster tempo. Try to vary the pitch of your voice. In the privacy of your home, explore the highs and lows of your speaking range and, if your natural tendency is to speak in a monotone, try as much as you can to expand it. There is nothing worse than listening for half an hour or more to a drone -- no, there is one thing worse: listening to a mutter.

Which in turn brings us to memorization. Certainly no one expects you to memorize all of your poems, but it's a wonderful plus for the audience when you deliver a shorter piece directly to them, without the barrier of the page. It engages them, compels them to listen, lets them know that you respect both them and your own work. Even when you do read from the page, look up every so often, not just in pauses, but with important phrases so that you really get your point across. If nothing else, looking at the audience once in a while keeps them awake.

Should you introduce every poem? That's up to you. If a poem really warrants some kind of intro or explanation, or if there's an interesting or amusing anecdote attached to it, by all means, share it -- but keep it brief, and be sure to speak clearly or you'll have defeated your purpose. Sometimes, however, it's really nice just to launch into the next poem after a short silence. Deliver the title (if there is one) looking directly at the audience, then take a slow, relaxed breath through the nose, which allows three or four seconds to pass before beginning the text. Or if the poem has no title, you might want to give the first line or phrase in lieu of one. Important note: no poem should require interpretive explanation. If it does, in my opinion, you've not done your job as a poet.

I like to begin and end the reading with a shorter piece. Beginning with a short piece gives you a chance to warm up, try out the room, and deal with your nerves. Ending with a short piece is the equivalent of keeping a farewell short and sweet. Short goodbyes are better. It's nice to say your thank yous before announcing the last poem; it's like a "heads up," and you leave the audience with your last line of poetry still in their ears. Try to choose as your closing piece one with a really memorable last line.

To sum up, always remember that the whole point of reading is to communicate. Poetry is communication and connection -- and, hopefully, illumination.