Yesterday I flew
home from San Francisco, closing the last action-packed chapter of my
adventures on the Fringe, at least for this year. Thanks to a few lucky inroads into the Bay Area's local media I managed to keep a fairly high profile in Frisco, appearing on National Public Radio, on KRON TV's morning news, and in three local papers. The coverage was all favourable, and
the result was a series of sell-out shows for the second part of my run, even
though I didn't do much postering or flyering. My performance schedule in San Fran was also much more
permissive than Edinburgh; shows were generally scheduled every other day, with
two days off near the end for my trip to Ottawa.
This gave me some
time to explore the city and enjoy myself, including a trip to Berkeley,
various spoken word, hiphop and dance music events, and a whole lot of second
hand clothes shopping, to the point where I actually had to buy myself an
additional second hand suitcase to haul it all home. I also participated in the massive "Power to the
Peaceful" festival in Golden Gate park on September 11th, hosted by
Michael Franti from Spearhead.
This was a gathering of San Francisco's thriving counter culture, with
rows of booths registering people to vote, serving vegan food, promoting the
Socialist Party of America, and selling hand-made pipes, sarongs, and T-Shirts
proclaiming "Bush is a Terrorist". It was a beautiful day in the park, and with over 30,000
people in attendance it was a testament to the spirit of the city. I almost thought I was in Vancouver for
a minute.
Because of my
appearance on NPR, which is the U.S. equivalent of CBC Radio (or BBC for the
Brits), I was also approached randomly by a few teachers about performing The
Rap Canterbury Tales for their classes, and I ended up with two very different
gigs. My first school performance
was at a public high school in Oakland, Skyline High, which was not in the
'hood but rather in the hills above the downtown area, though many of the
students commuted from the inner city.
The teachers were lovely, but the school seemed plagued by budget
problems - many of the classrooms were in rusty trailers parked on cement, which
turned them into sweltering ovens in the California heat. At lunch I heard about the most recent
government outrage - a superintendent who set out to balance the district's
education budget by slashing program funding throughout the public school system,
which caused a couple of teachers to mouth him off at a board meeting. The superintendent, interpreting their protest as a threat, hired himself a personal bodyguard at the expense of the same education budget - the bill was $175,000 US per year.
The students
themselves were great, however, and seemed well entertained by my presentation,
especially when I was talking about freestyle rap and a young kid with short
little tarantula dreads kept prodding "battle me...battle me" so I
whipped out a little demonstration: "I spit rhymes at Skyline / sweet like
apple cider / and try to sidestep kids whose heads are covered by a
spider..." Then when his turn
came to dis me back he asked the teacher for permission to cuss in his raps,
which was denied, so he stayed grudgingly quiet, but it was still a great
icebreaker. I think some of them
were a little uncertain as to the point of my existence, though, since they
were not studying Chaucer, and the whole thing was sprung on them in their
"life skills" class as an example of what can come of unusual forms
of literacy. It ended up coming
across as a bit of a "stay in school" pep talk, though I can't
imagine the prospect of becoming a traveling fringe minstrel would keep any of
them in university for six years.
Then again, maybe I'm not such an anomalous phenomenon after all...
The other school
I visited was the complete opposite, the sharpest contrast imaginable. It was a private all-girls prep school
for Stanford University in Palo Alto, catering to the daughters of the Bay Area
elite. The buildings were
beautiful ornate wood and stone, and the well-kept courtyard included an
Olympic-sized outdoor swimming pool.
Lunch was prepared by a gourmet chef who laid out Swedish meatballs and
stuffed rigatoni in cream sauce, with salad bar and fresh cut fruit, a stark
contrast to the mushy peas and fried chicken I had been served a few days
before in Oakland.
However, the
students were once again keen-minded and alert, (though none of them tried to
battle me) and in this case they were indeed studying Chaucer, in much greater
depth and detail in the tenth grade than I ever did at the High School level
here in B.C. Giving presentations
in those air-conditioned, DVD-equipped classrooms, I couldn't help but reflect
on the stark differences between the two learning environments, especially
during the Wife of Bath's speech on classism and "gentilesse":
As for low-class,
you can't rashly judge me,
Class is just
something that holds us back, and nothing
Goes bad as fast
as the souls of nobility,
Whose workloads
leave them with gold, but no ability
To show
compassion, cash but no humility,
Besides, with the
middle class and upward mobility
The only
gentility left with any importance
Proceeds from a
person's actions, not their fortunes,
So no more
ill-informed class distortions...
Still, I didn't
complain when the teacher handed me my paycheque, especially since the public
school performance had been pro bono; Skyline convincingly claimed there was no
money in their budget for visiting speakers. I don't judge either of them of course, but it was
interesting to note the contrast, and sadly I fear I must acquiesce to the
system somewhat myself if I am to survive - the private school network in
California suddenly seems a great untapped niche for the future of the Rap
Canterbury Tales.
During my second
show of the Fringe a serious setback occurred in the form of an injury
sustained on stage while performing.
The Miller's Tale includes a scene where I have to convey a fall from
"up on high", and I've been doing a fairly safe stage-dive where I
drop down to touch the ground with my palms and then bounce back up again. This show, which was almost full, was
particularly high-energy for some reason, and I got carried away and slammed
myself onto the stage, jolting my torso when my hands connected. I instantly felt a pain in my lower
back, as if one of my vertebrae were out of place, but the beat goes on and
waits for no man, so I continued with the show, wincing a little. By the time I got home I was so sore I
could hardly move and waking up the next morning it was even worse. For two days it felt like I would be in
traction before long and canceling shows once again, but then things started to
turn around, and with some stretching and rest I regained my strength. It made me realize, however, how
careful I need to be with my body, now that I've stepped out from under the
yoke of the Worker's Compensation Board.
Then, last
Thursday, after performing four of my six shows of the Fringe, I packed a day
bag and headed for the airport to seek the Canadian Millenium Scholarship
Foundation's "Think Again" conference in Ottawa. The trip was all expenses paid and
entailed a stopover in Chicago, which meant pretty much a whole day of
traveling each way. Arriving in
Ottawa I proceeded to the ARC Hotel, where my $175 per night room had already
been reserved by the conference organizers. I was bemused at the luxury of it all - including a gift
package with a CD, DVD, book, chocolates and jelly beans, all taxpayer dollars
well spent. When I raised the
question of the extravagant accommodations with one of the other presenters,
she pointed out that it was the least they could do, since we weren't getting
paid to participate. I was far
from discontent, however; I found every detail of it delightful. I felt like a visiting dignitary.
In the morning we
had breakfast and a briefing, and then we made our way over to the West Block
of the Parliament buildings where the conference was taking place. The opening speech was by an adventurer
named Bernard Voyer, who gave a slideshow presentation and inspirational talk
describing his experiences hiking to the North and South Poles as well as
climbing the highest mountain on every continent on earth including Everest. The day was then divided into various
workshops on social justice, scientific progress, entrepreneurial skills, and
"thinking outside the box", mine falling presumably into the latter
category (it was entitled "OnWords: Hiphop Culture and the Evolution of
Oral Traditions"). I was to
give two workshops during the course of the day, the first with about fifteen
participants and the second with about twenty-five, both an hour and a half
long. The participants were
undergraduate winners of the prestigious "Excellence Awards" from
across Canada, mostly between the age of 19 and 25, representing every possible
faculty of every possible university, a wonderfully eclectic mix.
After a long day
of new ideas we all piled into buses and moved to the National Aviation Museum,
a massive hangar/dome filled with restored WWI and WWII fighter planes and
various experimental flying contraptions.
Viewing-paths snaked around the flight memorabilia, and various tables
were set up throughout with spreads of gourmet food of every type. For the next hour or so we toured the
building, sparking conversations in the various line-ups for sushi and stuffed
tacos. The space was vast, but
with well over three hundred students and another sixty or so presenters and
staff it seemed to be buzzing with activity.
After dinner the
entertainment was supposed to begin, and I made my way to the stage where a DJ
was spinning some ambient tunes while the students filtered in to form an
audience. I was to be the first
act, with fifteen minutes in front of the whole group, but many of the students
were still eating or looking around and the crowd was slow to form. Three times the organizers tapped the
microphone (which was hooked up to a network of speakers resounding throughout
the whole building) and asked them to please make their way to the stage. As the clock ticked on and the
hand-wringing intensified, I figured I knew a way to bring people in and score
a little extra stage time, so I grabbed the mic and improvised a
"pied-piper freestyle," something to the tune of:
"This is the
climax of the conference
So put down your
food, and your condiments
'Cause we got
some performers here who need your compliments
To boost their
confidence
In this museum,
And how can you
applaud them unless you see 'em?
So get your asses
to the stage
Or you lose your
scholarships
And not just the next
payment,
I'm talkin' about
all of it
So stop gawkin'
at all the plane cockpits
And stuffin' your
faces with cakes and chocolates
And make your way
to the stage
Through this
crazy maze..."
Since this was
technically just "crowd forming time", it didn't take up any of my
slot, even though I went on for about ten straight minutes, beginning with
about two dozen people loosely standing around, and ending with over
four-hundred packed into the seating area. Then I launched into my set, which consisted of The Wife of Bath's Tale, The Rhyme Renaissance, and some newly-penned lyrics reflecting ironically on my relationship with the academic world:
Trapped in his
graduate class with a masters
In wrappin' his
craft in vernacular packages
Graspin' at capitalist
status and affluence
What happened to
Erasmus and the Stratford dramatist?
That's in his
past, to be classed with the rest of his
Adolescent
irrational practices
Fatuous analysis
of tragical passages
Vacuous battles
with national averages
After this
chapter collapsed he went back to his
Natural habitat
to rap for the masses...
For those of you
unfamiliar with hiphop lyrical forms, the two passages above clearly show the
contrast between freestyle rhymes and written rhymes. Afterwards I had people come up to me gushing about this or
that aspect of the performance, the Chaucer, the lecture rap, and more than a
few who had ears only for the introductory freestyle, making me feel like
improv skills take you a lot farther than any amount of formulating. This performance at the aviation
museum, even after touring for the past five months, was without a doubt the
most exciting of my life, especially since it was in front of the largest and
certainly the most intelligent audience I've ever had the honour of
entertaining. They also proved
that intelligence is no impediment to a sense of humour - the lecherous old
woman in the Wife of Bath's Tale had them doubled over.
After the
evening's entertainment, which also included music and clowning, we separated
from the students and returned to the hotel for a smaller reception held for
the presenters. This was a much
stiffer affair, with cocktails and elbow-rubbing, and was less to my taste than
hanging out with the Excellence Laureate students, who were on average just a
few years younger than me, whereas the presenters were mostly decades
older. Anyway, a cocktail or two
later I stirred my shaken body up to bed and called it a night.
Then the next
morning it was back to the airport (after a gourmet breakfast billed to the
conference), and once again I spent the whole day flying, only to land in San
Francisco, shower, change, and head off to perform my semi-final show of the
Fringe, which was sold out. Sunday
afternoon's show was likewise packed, and with great pomp and ceremony I
thanked my last audience and concluded my summer of fringe performances.
And now I'm home
again, after almost five months, seven cities, five countries, and over seventy
official performances of The Rap Canterbury Tales. This summer has been the most incredible time of my life,
and I must admit I'm already feeling some post-partem pangs at the idea of it
being over. On the other hand,
I've opened so many doors and met so many people along the way that I feel like
the seeds are well sown for even greater things yet to come. Now, however, it's time to take a
breather, though soon I will resume giving presentations to schools here in the
Vancouver area, working on recording projects, and getting prepared for next
year's tour. I feel like I have
made many mistakes this year that I must remedy if I am to realize my goal of a
self-sustaining existence performing my poetry. Incredibly, and mostly thanks to Edinburgh, I seem to have
completed the tour having turned a slight profit, though the final accounting
has yet to confirm this. Still,
there is no question that I am far from ruined, which to me equates a huge and
improbable success.
I want to thank
you all for following along as this fringe fantasy has unfolded. For those of you who joined up mid-way, or just now, all of my letters from the edge are posted online. I suppose this will be my last posting
for a while, at least until my life gets somewhat interesting again, but stay
tuned in the meantime for upcoming shows and events as they arise. All the best until then,
Deepest
blessings,