It is a cold Monday night in February as the campus of Boston College is littered with snow. Inside one of the classroom buildings, a student group is gathered to rehearse for a performance in a few weeks. On the classroom’s big sliding chalkboard are the words “HISTORY. FAITH. WOMANHOOD.”
The group is Living In Color, a multimedia arts collective made up of BC’s Black student community. Their performance, in its second year, combines poetry, music, and dance. This year, they are adding short film to the lineup. As a collective, their shared goal is to express the nuances and variety of Black identity through art and performance.
For rehearsals, they break up the groups by medium. Monday nights are for the poetry crew to rehearse. Angus Williams, the group’s founder and director who performs under the moniker Caramel, sits in the classroom with Yosenlis Fabian (Yosi), Yaskairy Nova (Yaki), and Isabella Lora (Bella), the poets who will perform live when the show goes up on March 14th. Bella is the director of the poetry section of the show.
The process is a collaborative effort, and the group approaches these rehearsals the same way a theatre or music group would: they exchange notes and ideas freely and without judgment. They understand that each poet is trying to develop the highest level of performance possible for the show that is six weeks away.
While waiting to get the rehearsal underway, the group discusses favorite professors, how they’re doing in class, and how it’s easier to participate in class when it’s a subject they’re more interested in. “I always participate in class, if you couldn’t tell,” says Yaki, who shoots her hand towards the ceiling every time a question is posed to the group during their interview. She’ll be the first to tell you that she is direct and honest, both in her answers to questions and in her poetry.
Poetry is a versatile art form that can have equal but different impacts when written versus spoken. Either way, it can allow for deep, vulnerable expression of the self, but spoken performance offers a more immediate invitation into that space. “If you’re performing it out loud,” says Yosi, “you really need to make sure to captivate people’s attention with certain words… You actually need to think of who’s listening and what impact you want to have.”
Yaki agrees with this, and adds that she feels performing allows less room for nuance, at least with her work. She calls performance a “type of explanation.” A self-identified procrastinator who works best under pressure, rehearsing is a different way of working than what she’s used to. The process allows her to really find the important words and phrases to accentuate in her poems. “When I’m writing,” Yaki says, “I write the way I understand things. So it’s like, I know what I mean, but another person or a crowd might not understand that, but maybe the way I say it might break it down a little bit more for them.”
Engaging in this process allows each poet to better understand themselves and how that manifests in their work. Hearing Bella and Yosi perform their work made Yaki notice that she doesn’t dabble in metaphors as much as her peers. She respects that about them, but she takes a more direct approach with her poems. It’s not that one way is right or wrong, it’s merely a difference of approach, underlining the personal nature of poetry. The group understands that just as their different styles manifest in their writing, these different styles might impact listeners differently. Variety is good and supports Living In Color’s core tenant that there is not one universal Black experience, but several nuanced, personal stories that coexist and intertwine.
Together, they break down which lines to highlight with a little more oomph, which to possibly reword or trim, and which to cut entirely. They offer helpful feedback (“I like the way you return to this…”). This rehearsal is still a bit too early in the process for blocking and movement; that comes later.
The question of memorization comes up. Angus stresses the importance that the performers memorize their lines rather than keep a phone in hand to consult. “It looks unprofessional,” he says. They’re undergrads, but they value the importance of highly engaging performance.
While all three performers came to poetry in different ways and at different places, they find common ground in the medium’s allowance to express feelings and process emotions that at first seem daunting or overwhelming. Poetry can be a vessel through which writers and performers are able to work through strong emotions and experiences, both positive and negative.
For Bella, this really came into fruition against the backdrop of the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020 which spoke out against police brutality. “It felt like a way to heal,” she says, “and also just talk about things felt relevant that I didn’t want to speak about.” It’s not easy, and Bella knows that she needs to be in the right mental space to process those thoughts and feelings. “It requires an element of vulnerability. This is for an audience, but ultimately, we’re still writing for ourselves… It’s a very sacred process.” It allows her to explore multifaceted elements of her identity, “as a Black woman, a friend, a young woman learning about her sexuality, [and] growing up with a single mom.”
Yosi makes a point to incorporate bilingual elements in her poems. “I was born in the Domincan Republic, moved here when I was 10, and I feel like that’s central to my writing,” she says. Writing allows her “to discover a lot of different parts of [herself] and [her] culture.” She likens it to a therapy session. “You have these things that you don’t want to disclose with anybody,” she explains, “but once you put it down on paper, the problems don’t seem as big anymore.”
The communication factor is central to Yaki’s approach to poetry. “I grew up in such a silent household,” she says. “When I say ‘silent,’ you don’t speak about your feelings and you don’t speak about what you’re going through.” Raised in an environment that discouraged seeking out a therapist, Yaki backs up Yosi’s belief in poetry-as-therapy. She points out that this is symptomatic of male-dominated culture, saying it’s “like the regular machismo, like how men grow up.” She doesn’t back down from difficult topics, no matter how personal or traumatic. “Writing poetry was the first time I said out loud, ‘I got sexually assaulted,’ and actually processed it because I just shoved that so down… or writing about how much my dad has put me through with my depression… I didn’t fully recognize it until I wrote it down on paper.” She adds that this process leads her to mine deeper and deeper into herself, allowing for a greater self-understanding.
After the interview, it’s time to rehearse. Angus dims the lights. Each poet takes their turn at the front of the classroom, and afterwards, they share constructive critiques. Highlight this word, take a pause here, don’t rush, etc. It is less in pursuit of perfection as it is a pursuit of the highest possible impact.
Per the request of the poets, we can’t share any excerpts of their work, but it was all made to be seen in performance anyway. Go hear for yourself.
Living In Color will host its free-to-attend performance on March 14th at the Vandy Cabaret Room in BC’s Vanderslice Hall, starting at 6:30pm.