Julie Leung
Yusef Komunyakaa reading
Framed against the warm wood paneling of the UGA Performing Arts Center stage, the towering Yusef Komunyakaa recited his poetry in a way that can only be described as spoken music — a bass-toned blend of rhythmic speech and emotional conviction that breathed life into his potent words.
The Pulitzer Prize-winning poet's free reading at the University last Thursday evening showcased a prestigious sampling of his most famous works, beginning with the loping "Ode to The Drum." Dressed in a trim black leather jacket and donning large glasses, Komunyakaa struck me as an impressive, enigmatic figure behind the podium. Bobbing his head to the beat of the poem, he spoke with an entrancing cadence. For “Ode to The Drum,” the 62-year-old writer concluded with an onomatopoeic "Kabooom" that reverberated through the tall ceilings of the auditorium.
Born in 1947 and raised in Louisiana during the Civil Rights movement, Komunyakaa writes from a mentality entrenched in African American identity and highlighted by his experiences in the Vietnam War, where he received a Bronze Star for his service as a war correspondent.
Komunyakaa won the Pulitzer for his book, "Neon Vernacular: New & Selected Poems 19771989." However, it was the war-tinged selections from his 2001 book of collected works, "Pleasure Dome," that seemed to resonate most deeply with the audience.
"It took me 14 years to write about Vietnam," he stated simply before launching into the first lines, "You and I Are Disappearing." Originally published in his second collection of war poetry, “Dien Cai Dau,” the haunting poem describes a village girl being burned alive. In his deep, resounding voice, Komunyakaa emphasized the poem’s refrain, “She burns.”
The latter half of the program took on a more breezy, laid-back atmosphere. After about 30 minutes of straight poetry reading, Komunyakaa finished with a 40-line dedication about what the last election meant to him, an optimistic closure to a string of heart-wrenching war poems. The poet then acquiesced the stage for The Shapeshifter Ensemble, a musical duo whose song lyrics are penned by Komunyakaa. Composed of vocalist and guitarist Tomas Doncker and bassist Booker King, the two musicians played selections from their debut album, "The Mercy Suite."
Komunyakaa's poetry is renowned for its rhythm, evocative of a blues and jazz tempo. Thus, the concept of putting his words to music seems like a natural progression. Surprisingly however, the songs lacked Komunyakaa's signature intensity.
The lyrics came off a little sacharrine, trite almost, as one song had Doncker riffing "Rollercoaster of Love," and King following with the spoken lines, "I used to wear my heart on my sleeve, and then I got punched in the arm." Komunyakaa appears to have defaulted to a more simplistic, folksy style that loses some of his usual poignancy.
Nevertheless, Doncker and King were clearly accomplished musicians, and the melodies by themselves were enough to carry the performance. The two sat side by side onstage with only their instruments in hand and two mics. The set up was organic and conveyed a sense of casualness and intimacy, even though the 200-seat auditorium was packed. King, especially, embodied the term "cool." Sitting back in his chair with half-closed eyes, the bassist plucked away as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
The performance ended on the uplifting tune, "Ride the Wind,” one of the more sophisticated songs that included a mind-boggling bass guitar solo, courtesy of King.
University English professor Ed Pavlic had introduced Komunyakaa by saying, "He's at the center of the song; he is a man whose work has stayed at the center of the music."
Looking purely at the musical segment of the evening, I may have to disagree with that statement. However, there was no denying Komunyakaa’s mastery over sound and meaning during the poetry half.
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