Workshop ‘Til You Drop

 

June 22, 2005

 

Sentient Beings,

 

The beach is now behind me and today I find myself writing from the city of Nottingham, historical home of Robin Hood and lace-manufacturing capital of the UK.  After two weeks of relative leisure in Brighton recording new songs and going to scores of hiphop shows I finally struck out to explore the rest of this country, and over the past fortnight I've been performing like a maniac (frequently and frantically), following a path of diverse bookings.

 

My first stop was Oxford, where I was invited to perform as a guest reader by the Oxford Poetry Society.  Brighton and Oxford probably represent the greatest polar opposites of liberal and conservative thinking in this country, and I felt the difference acutely.  This is not to say that my time in Oxford wasn't enjoyable or profitably spent, but it was an edifying glimpse into the schizophrenia that is England.  My gracious host there was Jana Lee, a good friend who was in the M.A. program with me at UVic, and who is now a distinguished though somewhat disgruntled Rhodes scholar.  Through her I got to meet some of the other Rhodies and various other powerful intellects, who were mostly disarmed by alcohol, it being the end of exam time.  The poetry society gig was also great, attended by a group of keen undergraduates, none of whom knew what to expect since I was the first rapper ever to be booked by the Society.  As usual my attempt to explain and defend my artistic vision for poetry turned into a tirade against free verse, which was actually received relatively well. 

 

After my weekend in Oxford I headed North to Leicester to begin my core activity for this summer adventure, the Cambridge Schools tour.  When I was here in England back in January I did presentations and workshops on hiphop lyrics and poetry in about a dozen schools over three weeks.  The feedback was so positive that Cambridge offered to help me organize another tour, and asked what my requirements were to make it happen.  I told them it would be worth my while if they could hook me up with twenty gigs over six weeks, but other than that they were free to work me as hard as was logistically possible, as demand required.  Incredibly, they booked me eighteen shows over two weeks, which has had me visiting a new school every morning and every afternoon five weekdays in a row, all last week and this week.

 

If you're curious about what I do in these schools, basically they bring me into a classroom or drama studio with a group of students ranging from ten to seventy in number, usually fifteen-years-old or thereabouts.  I then have approximately two hours to explain the concept behind my thesis, outlining some connections between rap lyrics and the poetry they have been studying in their English classrooms, then I talk about the Canterbury Tales, perform some of my own raps (primarily the Chaucer ones), answer questions, and finally conduct a workshop in which the students are encouraged to experiment with their own rhymes and write some lyrics themselves.

 

The pace is intense, but it has been incredibly rewarding as well, since each group of students has its own dynamic and they are generally inquisitive and enthusiastic, especially having a "real live rapper" in their school.  It is also a constant challenge to draw them in to participate and invite them to think about how language changes over time and make some new connections.  I have been consistently impressed with how quickly some of them catch on to the rap format as well, and I suspect I may be sowing the seeds of some future rap careers, or perhaps a new crop of hiphop academics.  After some of the sessions I have even been asked to sign autographs on notebooks and backpacks, perhaps in the hope that they will be worth something on eBay someday if I hit it big.  Joking aside though, it has been a great honour to connect with all of these young people and share my ideas with them.  It is also a blessing to get paid to rehearse and polish my show before returning to Edinburgh in August.

 

Beyond my duties in schools I have the freedom to take on whatever other gigs I can manage, so last Thursday I traveled to London to perform at a Spoken Word night called "Shortfuse" with a crew of English-Caribbean poets.  Then after my Friday school show I headed to Cambridge for the weekend, where I had a few bookings at May Week celebrations, a carnival of student revelry that takes place in June every year.  May Week marks the end of the Spring semester, and basically consists of garden parties, balls, dances, fairs and various other celebrations, spread around the city in different colleges and parks. 

 

My crew in Cambridge this time around was a Drum and Bass/Hiphop band called Emunah, who play highly danceable bass-heavy grooves with a drummer, DJ, guitarist, laptop, bass guitarist and violinist, all integrated with singing and rapping in both English and Hebrew.  You can check them out online at <http://www.emunahmusic.com/>.  I had met Dan the lead rapper back in January and he graciously put me up over the weekend, along with the rest of the band.  Friday night I was invited for dinner at the Cambridge Jewish Student Centre, with assurances that it was goyim friendly.  Just before dinner was served I saw one of the leaders coming straight over to me looking concerned, and I worried for a moment that I was about to be busted for something.  It turned out he had indeed singled me out as the least-Jewish-looking person in the place, though not for the reason I feared.  With extreme circumlocution he explained that my help was needed, since the oven had somehow gotten turned down, and he could neither touch the knob, nor cause a Jew to touch it, nor directly ask any person to touch it for him, it being the Shabbat.  Catching the hint, I followed him to the kitchen and earned my keep with an unorthodox twist of the wrist.

 

Later that night I got to drop some verses on stage with Emunah, who managed to smuggle me into the Robinson's May Ball as a guest MC and honorary band member (the tickets were over £100).  These May Balls happen throughout May Week in Cambridge and are like massive proms put on by the various colleges, lush and extravagant affairs with excessive decorations and flowers, free-flowing alcohol, crepe stands, barbecues, rides, music and dancing.  The spectacle is impressive, though I must say I'm glad I didn't have to pay to witness it.

 

Saturday I had a performance at a Charity Garden Party at St. Johns College, a benefit for Amnesty International, Fair Trade, Make Poverty History, etc. The line-up featured belly dancing, capoeira, African drumming, and me, an odd mix, but it was a beautiful day to perform in a grassy park for students in shorts and summer dresses.  Afterwards I jumped in with some friends and we drove an hour out of town to a country house party in one of the most perfect pastoral settings I've encountered here yet.  Then Sunday night I had another performance at a May Ball pre-party, this one a proper rap set where I got a chance to rock some dance songs.  The venue and sound system weren't ideal, but it was still a good night and I got to reciprocate for Emunah, hooking the whole crew up with passes.

 

The next morning I got picked up at eight a.m. - with about ten hours of cumulative sleep over the past three nights - and returned to Leicester to resume classroom workshops, which pretty much brings me up to date.  I have been both working and enjoying myself at high intensity over the past few weeks, which is a sure mark of good times, but I was reminded today that I am not invulnerable.  I was performing for a group of students here in Nottingham and threw myself around a bit too energetically during one of the Rap Canterbury Tales, painfully pinching something in my neck.  I managed to get through the day's shows, but I can still feel it sharply, and I'm looking forward to cooling it a bit next weekend.  I had been holding out hope that I would get into the Glastonbury Festival, England's largest summer music event, but it is sold out and it looks like it's not going to happen, which may be a blessing in disguise. 

 

Hope you are all well, and I have appreciated the encouraging words and responses that have been coming in since I hit the road.  Take it easy, and I'll try to do the same.  Yours,

 

baba