Poet Regie Gibson speaks of love, life and Hendrix
Stephen Narain
Issue date: 11/15/04 Section: Arts & Culture
As the first snow of the season descended on College Hill Friday evening, poet Regie Gibson provided a mellow performance of his highly personal work to an audience of about 50 people at King House.
Kurt Vonnegut calls Gibson's work "supersonic and in the stratosphere, where you can see that the earth really is a ball, moist, blue-green." Quite an appraisal, but Gibson's poetry is really something beyond this physical world, daring to straddle the grey area between poetry, song, lyric and all the possibilities in between.
Although Gibson is used to performing in larger spaces, he took full advantage of the intimate setting of King House - the fireplace, the hot cider and the centuries-old history of St. Anthony Hall, the coed literary fraternity at Brown that sponsored the event. Gibson said his performances are affected by the venue, but said, "Whether it be a crowd of 5,000 people or in a church or synagogue ... the ultimate goal is to communicate."
Gibson, who has performed everywhere from the Art Institute of Chicago to Literature Haus in Hamburg, fuses instrumentals, drums, song and poetry in a way that defies convention. Five years ago, Gibson founded the Church of The Funky Word, which, he writes on his Web site, is "a literary and musical arts ensemble utilizing ancient, contemporary and original literary text combined with world music and rituals from various world cultures."
Gibson said one of his poems was inspired by a professor he encountered at a recent talk who seemed wrapped up in the confines and norms of language.
"This is not your daddy's poetry reading," Gibson joked. "Poetry is more than the sum of its parts."
Gibson, a Chicago native, is the son of a Jehovah's Witness and a police officer, and one of his poems was centered around his childhood, the joys of being young and the fiery rhythms of Chicago nightlife. Interjecting the poem with Congo drumbeats, tapped feet and song, Gibson quipped that he was guilty of having "metaphoric Tourette's."
Kurt Vonnegut calls Gibson's work "supersonic and in the stratosphere, where you can see that the earth really is a ball, moist, blue-green." Quite an appraisal, but Gibson's poetry is really something beyond this physical world, daring to straddle the grey area between poetry, song, lyric and all the possibilities in between.
Although Gibson is used to performing in larger spaces, he took full advantage of the intimate setting of King House - the fireplace, the hot cider and the centuries-old history of St. Anthony Hall, the coed literary fraternity at Brown that sponsored the event. Gibson said his performances are affected by the venue, but said, "Whether it be a crowd of 5,000 people or in a church or synagogue ... the ultimate goal is to communicate."
Gibson, who has performed everywhere from the Art Institute of Chicago to Literature Haus in Hamburg, fuses instrumentals, drums, song and poetry in a way that defies convention. Five years ago, Gibson founded the Church of The Funky Word, which, he writes on his Web site, is "a literary and musical arts ensemble utilizing ancient, contemporary and original literary text combined with world music and rituals from various world cultures."
Gibson said one of his poems was inspired by a professor he encountered at a recent talk who seemed wrapped up in the confines and norms of language.
"This is not your daddy's poetry reading," Gibson joked. "Poetry is more than the sum of its parts."
Gibson, a Chicago native, is the son of a Jehovah's Witness and a police officer, and one of his poems was centered around his childhood, the joys of being young and the fiery rhythms of Chicago nightlife. Interjecting the poem with Congo drumbeats, tapped feet and song, Gibson quipped that he was guilty of having "metaphoric Tourette's."