LIVE PERFORMANCE REVIEWS
Listen up at the Ear Inn
Stephanie Nolasco
The “Ear Inn” a muddled tavern near New York City shores, hosts a weekly poetry eading series where professional poets, professors, and the well respected from the literary world unite in alcoholic harmony. With a curvaceous blonde beauty for waitress, friendly hospitality and chatty circle of poets, what wouldn’t make this little bar by the shore a courteous environment for literary thought? Jason Schneiderman, Maggie Nelson and Wayne Koestenbaum, three very dissimilar writers exemplify that everything could go right and wrong at the “Ear Inn.”
”The Ear Inn,” being close by to the city shoreline, pays tribute to everything marine deep. Established in 1876, the tavern still surrounds itself with a nostalgic mood of being within a lost ship near “the city that never sleeps.” Although the entrance of bar is greatly hidden by massive construction and wood piles, its vibrant electric red sign could be seen from eight blocks down. When entering, the blonde bombshell waitress with a skimpy white tank top smiles and happily serves you a burger, immediately knowing your name. Then again, the “Ear Inn” serves nothing else, but cheap burgers and beer. The aroma of roasting meat tickles your nose since all their tables are place right near the steaming skillet. There’s no worries of getting burn, however, if you’re claustrophobic, never enter “The Ear Inn.” The bar has absolutely no space whatsoever to even stretch your legs and about 8-10 tables are squeezed against each other. I am not your friendly New Yorker and therefore I have no interest in eating with an unknown stranger. Yet “The Ear Inn” is also the ideal weekend hangout for aspiring poets and writers, whom all somehow knew each other and conversed happily. The space, being very tight and compact, had dimmed lights and was surrounded with posters of boats and sea-green fish, which endlessly stared at you. So much for that tuna-burger.
The host and creator of “The Ear Inn Reading Series” quickly grabbed the mic and started to test it, while audience members squirmed standing or sitting. He cheerfully smiled and welcomes his guests for attending. He knew each writer personally and first introduced husband Jason Schneiderman, whom openly shared lovely-dovey affections towards each other. They’re lucky that I’m an open-minded romantic, as everyone else was. Schneiderman, obtaining bachelors on Russian/English from CUNY was excited to read from published poetry anthology Sublimation Point, which explored mathematical questioning, scientific reasoning and dreamy affections toward husband. Using absurd objects, such as “dry ice” to illustrate “how I felt when I saw you,” Schneiderman plays with word organization to produce a sketchy, slick, modernize account of free verse. Giving very brief description to each poem, his main purpose was to make audience comfortable with unique writing style through laughter. One moment being comical in describing a “bad student,” giving a physics lesson in “Superpowers” or stating sorrowful lines such as “wandering like disfigured veterans.” Schneiderman’s portrayal of poetry is stimulating and well valued. Unfortunately, since he constantly was staring at watch while reading, his presentation couldn’t reflect his writing style. Oh well, I guess too much of a good thing never exists. Maggie Nelson, former New School University professor, shook like a tattoo gun, but immediately fired at reading. Audience members became louder in talking, yet she made no announcement in silencing themselves. Aren’t professors used to quieting down a crowd? Nelson, never looking at audience, covers face with piece and reads, smiling every now and then over nerves. However, her jumpy behavior didn’t prevent her from describing sexual escapades and repeatedly “fucking” every five minutes. After vivid description of powerful orgasms and sleazy orgies, she moves on to published novel on dead aunt, whom odd enough, had a death anniversary on day of reading. Jane was a much more personal account of a young woman slayed before her time, but forever roaming within Nelson’s poetic and graphic account of life and death. Her fine points of Jane’s thoughts and actual death reflected that of a gifted journalist. Unlike Schneiderman, Nelson made no attempt in constant self-promotion, which pursues my goals greater in reading Jane.
Wayne Koestenbaum, an openly gay male with hot red pants, black tight sweater, and gelled curly blonde streaks, was the last of the three readers to present. Unfortunately, by the time it was Koestenbaum’s turn, the audience was becoming chattier and more eager to just sit back and drink. Koestenbaum’s first piece, a modernize, experimental form of rhyme scheme, was unsuccessful in being triumphant at being just that, a rhyme scheme. He announced to audience prior to reading that he was to accentuate each rhyme because at first hearing, no one would discover it. Gee, I wonder why? Perhaps because it just doesn’t rhyme? One of the audience members was actually falling asleep, while another kept staring at watch attentively. Although Koestenbaum had striking lines every now and then, such as, “like a dead Diana, I smashed the royal China,” it couldn’t save him from rescuing very sleepy audience. His poems, too long for comfort, seem as if no end would arrive. Therefore, once finishing, the audience happily clapped and finally pays their bids for food and drink.
All three writers, sharing a literary escapism in various genres of composition, were successful in producing feedback from audience. Unfortunately, some didn’t know when to relax and some just didn’t know when enough was enough. Aside from the set-backs, “The Ear Inn Reading Series” is a delightful touch to any writer’s weekend and worth checking on most Saturdays.
Stephanie Nolasco is a prestigious writer located in New York City. To learn more about Nolasco and her writings, visit her official website.
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