—by Kathryn M. Duffy
Listeners never know quite what to expect from the poetry readings at Prairie Lights bookstore on Dubuque Street in downtown Iowa City, but it’s clear that the poets are there to please. “It’s very moving to be here,” said
Robyn Schiff at the reading of her debut work
Revolver on November 18. “It’s stirring to call this my home bookstore.” The new director of the University of Iowa Undergraduate Writer’s Program, Schiff packed the house on November 18;
Richard Deming and
Nancy Kuhl likewise delighted readers on December 8. “I am honored to read where so many great poets have once read,” said Deming, a lecturer at Yale University, before offering selections from his recent book
Let’s Not Call it Consequence. Kuhl, a curator of poetry at Yale’s Beinecke Library, seemed equally excited as she smiled at listeners while waiting to read from her new collection,
The Wife of the Left Hand.
The poetry in
Revolver, well, revolves around Samuel Colt’s trademark gun that had the capacity to shoot continuously without immediate reloading. Appropriately, her fast, repetitious reading mimicked the sounds of the gunshot: “I shall reign. I reign. I reigned.” Audience members nodded, sensing the connection. Schiff also discussed a counter energy in the collection she calls the “knife poems” which include “Multipurpose Steamship Furniture by Taylor and Sons,” “Lustre on the House America has been Waiting For,” and “Silverwear by J.A. Henkins.” Her poems not only comment on the social aspects of American life surrounding war, but they also bring other literary voices such as Annie Oakley and Mrs. Winchester into the conversation. Ultimately, Schiff’s performance relied on the dexterous deliverance of vowel and consonant repetition, and oftentimes listeners were more entranced by the sounds of her poetry than the actual meaning of the words.
Similarly, Kuhl discussed how living with Deming in New England influenced her “house” poems, citing photographs of the places they lived as an inspiration for “Snapshots.” She studied how memory is constructed in accordance with picture: “Like I could know everything this moment had to offer…Finally I might have understood that the room had a trick door and he was a flash of light.” Kuhl maintained a continuous tonality to her voice, and, as with Schiff, her reading style complimented her subject matter. Like the character in her title poem, Kuhl “speaks bluntly, does not embellish, or beautify.”
Deming, whose performance was marked by witty commentary, directed his speaking with the wave of a hand as if he were conducting an orchestra. Reading in a style more similar to Schiff’s, Deming’s delivery is like the short punching vibrato of rap music: “Place your face against cold floor tiles black and white.” He also discussed how his education and mentors affected his writing. Commenting on a particular teacher, Deming received several laughs from the audience when he whispered, “I stole some lines from him—don’t tell.” In reading “What is the Cost of Shame,” Deming surprised attendees with the simple eloquence of his words as he skillfully slowed his tempo while approaching the final lines of the poem: “Because what can come between us is philosophy, unearthing, until the walls revise that insistent elsewhere.”
While these poets differ in their thematic elements and reading styles, they obviously share a common love of reading and performing. Schiff said it best, though, about what it’s like to be on stage performing for an Iowa City audience: “It feels like five minutes could have passed or three hours. I looked at my watch, but I was faking it.” The audience laughed, and with that Schiff earned a new group of following readers.
Listeners never know quite what to expect from the poetry readings at Prairie Lights bookstore on Dubuque Street in downtown Iowa City, but it’s clear that the poets are there to please. “It’s very moving to be here,” said Robyn Schiff at the reading of her debut work Revolver on November 18. “It’s stirring to call this my home bookstore.” The new director of the University of Iowa Undergraduate Writer’s Program, Schiff packed the house on November 18; Richard Deming and Nancy Kuhl likewise delighted readers on December 8. “I am honored to read where so many great poets have once read,” said Deming, a lecturer at Yale University, before offering selections from his recent book Let’s Not Call it Consequence. Kuhl, a curator of poetry at Yale’s Beinecke Library, seemed equally excited as she smiled at listeners while waiting to read from her new collection, The Wife of the Left Hand.
The poetry in Revolver, well, revolves around Samuel Colt’s trademark gun that had the capacity to shoot continuously without immediate reloading. Appropriately, her fast, repetitious reading mimicked the sounds of the gunshot: “I shall reign. I reign. I reigned.” Audience members nodded, sensing the connection. Schiff also discussed a counter energy in the collection she calls the “knife poems” which include “Multipurpose Steamship Furniture by Taylor and Sons,” “Lustre on the House America has been Waiting For,” and “Silverwear by J.A. Henkins.” Her poems not only comment on the social aspects of American life surrounding war, but they also bring other literary voices such as Annie Oakley and Mrs. Winchester into the conversation. Ultimately, Schiff’s performance relied on the dexterous deliverance of vowel and consonant repetition, and oftentimes listeners were more entranced by the sounds of her poetry than the actual meaning of the words.
Similarly, Kuhl discussed how living with Deming in New England influenced her “house” poems, citing photographs of the places they lived as an inspiration for “Snapshots.” She studied how memory is constructed in accordance with picture: “Like I could know everything this moment had to offer…Finally I might have understood that the room had a trick door and he was a flash of light.” Kuhl maintained a continuous tonality to her voice, and, as with Schiff, her reading style complimented her subject matter. Like the character in her title poem, Kuhl “speaks bluntly, does not embellish, or beautify.”
Deming, whose performance was marked by witty commentary, directed his speaking with the wave of a hand as if he were conducting an orchestra. Reading in a style more similar to Schiff’s, Deming’s delivery is like the short punching vibrato of rap music: “Place your face against cold floor tiles black and white.” He also discussed how his education and mentors affected his writing. Commenting on a particular teacher, Deming received several laughs from the audience when he whispered, “I stole some lines from him—don’t tell.” In reading “What is the Cost of Shame,” Deming surprised attendees with the simple eloquence of his words as he skillfully slowed his tempo while approaching the final lines of the poem: “Because what can come between us is philosophy, unearthing, until the walls revise that insistent elsewhere.”
While these poets differ in their thematic elements and reading styles, they obviously share a common love of reading and performing. Schiff said it best, though, about what it’s like to be on stage performing for an Iowa City audience: “It feels like five minutes could have passed or three hours. I looked at my watch, but I was faking it.” The audience laughed, and with that Schiff earned a new group of following readers.
