Friday, June 3 @ 7:00pm
7-11 Dawson St Brunswick
Has an Open Mic?
Get your tickets on the door or via Moshtix: http://moshtix.com.au/v2/event/…
Melbourne Spoken Word is proud to host “Good Ghost” Bill Moran again in Melbourne this June. Following two successful shows in the past two years, Bill has become a great friend and supporter of the local Melbourne scene.
He will be supported by Melbourne poets Arielle Cottingham, Ed Carlyon, Will Beale, Jess Alice and Esme Foong, plus the winner of Slamalamadingdong in May, Alex Fusca.
Doors open 7pm for a 7.30pm start.
William Beale is a spoken word poet, writer and actor currently based in Melbourne. His debut poetry collection, “THEY CALL US LOUD” is available throughout Australia and Southeast Asia. As Co-Creative Producer of Slamalamadingdong, one-third of Three Round Circus and co-founder of If Walls Could Talk Open Mic, William has years of experience performing, producing and teaching in international poetry communities. His work has been called “a boy howling his way into the world, despite all its muzzles”, but in real life he’s just glad he’s afraid of moths, not microphones.
Jessica Alice is a writer, editor, broadcaster and speaker from Melbourne. She is Poetry Editor of Scum and was a Director of the National Young Writers’ Festival in 2014 & 15. Jessica’s work has been featured in The Guardian Australia, VICE, The Lifted Brow, Junkee, Spook Magazine, Cordite Poetry Review and Metro Magazine, among others.
Waffle Irongirl regularly sets out to write poetry in the venerable tradition of Blake and Whitman. But she keeps getting waylaid by personal opinions, her cultural context and a fondness for the music of Cold Chisel. The fact she can’t resist the occasional slam just makes things worse. On-stage, she’s the poetical analogue of a heavy metal karaoke. Off-stage she’s vague and freshly introverted.
Ed Carlyon is a writer and spoken word poet based in Melbourne. He has recently performed at both Strawberry Fields Festival and White Night Melbourne, as well as having competed in the national finals of the 2015 Australian Poetry Slam.
Bill Moran is a first-year MFA poetry candidate at Louisiana State University and a former EMT. He was a proud member of the 2011-2013 Austin Poetry Slam national teams, as well as the 2012 & 2013 Austin Poetry Slam Champion and 2013 Southern Fried Haiku Champion. He has co-directed the Texas Grand Slam Poetry Festival, performed and taught poetry internationally, and served as president of Mic Check, a non-profit poetry organization in Brazos County, Texas. His work has been published three times by Button Poetry in video form, and is forthcoming in Phoebe and FreezeRay Press in print. Also, he is convinced he has the Gulf Coast inside him. He appreciates your concern and well-wishes, but swears he is okay. Really.
Arielle Cottingham is a poet and performance artist out of coastal and South Texas, now based in Melbourne, Australia. Her poetry ranges from raw vulnerability to provocative politics, exploring how the personal influences the public, and vice versa. When she isn’t writing poetry, she is facilitating it as one of the creative producers for Melbourne’s Slamalamadingdong.
Text and language at its most dynamic; including spoken word, sound poems, and improvised performance. This exciting event explores the potential of text—its musicality and its dissonance, its light and dark, its ability to exact meaning and to defy it. This event builds on the works of Collective Effort Press, Melbourne-based champions of new writing in non-traditional forms and formats.
Also featuring David Wells and Neil Thomas performing Late Night and Horace.
Free event. Light refreshments provided.
Yoram sometimes has the air of a man possessed when he’s performing. I was interested to find out what drives this dynamic performer. I wasn’t surprised he suggested we meet at the underground bar, E55. When I arrived, he was already comfortably ensconced in a background of drumbeats.
Where did you start with spoken word? I’ve been involved with public speaking all of my life. From an early age I was trained to deliver long speeches without notes and without learning content off-by-heart, but rather, to take a theme or topic and improvise on it, sort of like a jazz of public speaking. Throughout my twenties and early thirties, I practiced this kind of speaking extensively, but exclusively within the Jewish community, and almost always within the context of a religious setting. Basically, I was a preacher.
Regarding the Spoken Word form specifically, it began for me in about 2014. I had returned to Australia from Israel where I had been deeply involved in the Arab Spring movement in that country. I had been engaged in everything from street protests to electioneering and when I returned I felt compelled to write about my thoughts and experiences.
I found, however, that when I actually put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) I was writing in a totally new way for me, using loads of rhymes and masses of adjectives and weird assonances and alliterations. It seemed entirely gratuitous for prose. So I sat there looking at my screen and wondered; “Is this was what people call spoken word?” Shortly thereafter I came across Slamalamadingdong and so it began.
Why spoken word? You aren’t explicitly in it for the self-exploration… That’s definitely true, I am not in spoken word for the self exploration per se. I am really in it for the revolution. I see the spoken word stage as a place to talk about political ideas and use the voice to inform and effect political transformation.
Spoken Word serves
You wrote a poem about last year’s tragic Bourke Street incident, which was read at the Bourke Street Memorial Service in January by the Deputy Lord Mayor Arron Wood. What were you feeling, hearing your poem read by a public official at a major event?
I didn’t watch the poem read live at the venue or on TV. Let me explain why. One of the survivors of the Bourke Street attack is a friend of mine. As the first anniversary of the attack approached I found myself dwelling on those days. It was a difficult month. My father had died a few weeks before, in terrible circumstances. One day I was talking to my friend about what happened to my father, trying to make sense of it all. Then, a week later, I was visiting that friend in the Alfred Hospital, trying to make sense of such a senseless act.
So, a year on, I was thinking about January 2017 when the organisers of the Memorial emailed to ask whether I knew any poems that might be appropriate to read out. That email triggered me. I spent the next three days trying to write a poem about the events of January 2017. Before I sent the poem to the organisers, I told my friend what I’d done. I guess I was seeking his permission. He told me to send it, so I did. On the day of the Memorial I watched a bit on the TV, then turned it off. Once I heard from my friend that he liked the poem, I went back and watched the video. I thought Arron Wood did a great job with the reading. As for me, I was just relieved my friend thought it was OK.
Most of your poems are rather economical and look as though they are suspended and solitary on the blank page. Others are longer, less spaced out, and laid out in neat lines. What dictates the way a poem looks on the page?
I don’t know the answer to that question. The truth is that, for me, writing poetry is all about the process. I only write a poem when I feel something I don’t understand. Once I start writing, the poem shows me its form