Soleil’s Vancouver Poetry Slam

Friendly competition makes for a weekly tradition

 

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- Insufficient (funds:

 

Qi vaios

 

 

*m fascinated at how many

different subcultures can

exist in this city without even
the faintest hint of them reaching
the mainstream surface. It seems
like every other week I am being
freshly exposed to a different
recurring event that I had never
even heard of before, but in
reality is already celebrating its
fifth year anniversary. Compared
to many, I’m no more than a
newborn fawn when it comes to
the poetry scene in Vancouver,
but already I feel right at home
and a great deal of credit for that
goes to the Poetry Slam held
every Monday night at Cafe
Deux Soleil. —

I used to automatically
associate poetry with images of
sombre candle light and constant
crying, but thankfully that’s not
the general case. Sure, expression
is a huge component, but my

_ favourite pieces are always the ~

ones that bring’a smile to my
face and a chuckle to my throat.
Luckily for me, there’s a healthy
amount of both found at the
weekly Poetry Slam. Two of my
favourite pieces were one about
a squirrel who preferred to have
interspecies relationships and

a haiku about flight attendants
performing oral sex (in English,
then in French).

Every evening is composed
of twelve contestants competing
in three rounds, with the number
of performers and their allotted
time diminishing with each
round. The poets must perform
original pieces and cannot
include props or music, which
means more emphasis is put on
the deliverance and context as
opposed to presentation. Since
the judges for the evening are

==

Jacey Gibb

opinions editor

YY

 

simply people selected from
the audience who are handed
scoreboards, it removes a sense
of formality and replaces it with
a homey charm. Plus, when the
prizes usually consist of old VHS
movies, you know you’re in the
right kind of place.

A problem I encountered
the first few times since I’ve ©
attended the Slam was the
feeling of being overwhelmed.

It seemed like everyone was
already familiar with the majority
of performers (turns out there are
quite a few weekly regulars) and
it seemed like everyone knew
what to say and when to say it (a
few examples would be it being
acceptable to loudly boo when a
judge delivers a low score or, if
the poet gets deducted marks for
going over the time limit, reciting
in unison “You rat bastard!
You’re ruining it for everyone!
But it was well worth it!”) Upon
first interpretation, the vibe
comes off as cliquish but this is
misleading, as it’s merely signs
of well established traditions.
The audience is compromised

of a healthy balance between
regulars and rookies and once
this realization sets in, it becomes
easier to join the borderline
obnoxious belittling of a judge
who gave only a 6.7.

The event starts at eight
o’clock but I’d suggest getting
there around seven if you want a
good spot or if you want to sign
up to sling some of your own
signature zingers.

Damage: $6-10 (sliding scale)

 

 

 
 
  
  
 
   
  

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