Whitechapel Gallery Bar
Nearest Tube – Aldgate East
www.whitechapel.org
Free, 7pm start (though kicked off at 7.50)
Third in a four part special series, see website
Rating 4/5
An overall great night of poetry. Luke Wright did a brilliant job of organising the event, with a good mix of acts with an overall high standard. Bar was slightly overpriced, but being a gallery you would expect it. But it’s a comfortable posh venue, with cushioned seats and clean floors; something you don’t get at too many free poetry events…
Luke also acted as compere on the night, and did a very good job of it. Likeable, supportive of the artists and responsive to the audience. And he’s a bit of a looker; or, as he would put it, has a ‘big gay face’. Think singer of Keane but blonde and you’ve get a picture. Only criticism against him would be a selfishness on his own part for his own poems through out the night, opening the evening and between the majority of the acts. I’m not sad enough to have brought a stopwatch and timed it, but put together he probably had the longest set. Lucky for him his poems were well performed and crowd pleasing, if a tad vacuous. Other than that though, good stuff
Bit of a slow start to the night, with Kevin Reidheart and Sally Roe I assume making up the page quota for the night. Reidheart gave a forgettable set bar a lesbian pull story which ended with an metaphor involving Elvis and a sick note, and Roe first patronising us my state that we’ll not ‘get’ her classic references; which, though probably true in many aspects, doesn’t really start you off well towards building a good poet-audience relationship. Though it all kicked off with Paul Purtell (spelling?), with his excellent reading from his book.
A very grumpy old man-black humour set, an example of Paul’s style being his Hughes inspired nature poem that basically goes ‘The birds migrate – who gives a fuck’. His onstage persona created a kind of cheery tolerance you might have for your bigoted elderly relatives, as he goes on about students, cigars, eating meat, and his annoyingly persistent begging for you to buy his £10 book. If it had been a £1 booklet, people would be queuing for it, but whatever floats his bank account. Ultimately though, witty writing combined with a great performance.
After the interval, Claire Pollard, of stage and Bloodaxe fame gave us another point of reference between the night’s two disciplines, but sort of failed in excel in either. Her forgettable first piece was followed by a couple of non-descript poems; though the last two had a certain charm. Taking Dante Rossetti’s model in the bath, Pollard did nothing with the story, except have a linking last line of ‘I’m moving my arm now’ that gave the audience a false sense of conclusion. Her final poem however was a deeply felt piece about her future daughter; advice on life and such. Though this time the problem was the performance and its overwrought length, the former being too forceful and high tension through out, a problem exasperated by the latter.
Chris Hicks gave an equally energetic performance as Luke and they shared a similar sense of witty social commentary. Taking fast (and ironic about it), Hicks’ poems about five leaf clovers and ‘cootees’ both went down well and he had excellent audience interaction skills – if a tad aggressive for some. Shame his set was short.
Last but not least was Rachel Pantechnicon, whose neurotically comic set of oddities and alternate history lessons was a great last set for the night. A very professional and unique performer, Rachel has a wit and intelligence that you rarely see on the circuit. Though on the night, he/she didn’t feel it went completely smoothly, the audience, I would like to think, thought otherwise.
Overall the night, being free, well organised, and with above average performers, was well worth it. I’d recommend the others in the series and future shows by Mr Wright.
Reviewed by Candace Orchard