By: Lucaiah Smith-Miodownik, News Writer
A gentle wash of purple and green clung to a white brick wall, as if the colours themselves were intent on listening to the evening’s poems. Behind the microphone sat a few modest armchairs and an accompanying coffee table with a house plant perched atop. The space felt warm and welcoming, a place where wise words, subtle quips, and heartfelt truths might flow effortlessly.
Vancouver’s Progress Lab was set for a beautiful night of poetry. Host Harrison Mooney, author of the award-winning memoir Invisible Boy, introduced the show, titled Black Futures Open Mic. The production was a joint effort between local organizations Neworld Theatre and Unbound Reading Series to showcase the talent of Black writers, storytellers, and artists.
The first poet to perform was Siobhan Barker. Their work traversed many topics, beginning with an homage to artist and civil rights activist Nina Simone. Sio then delivered an intimate story of growing up and taking space, weaving the homophones sole and soul to tell a tale of shoes on concrete and her accompanying body navigating the world.
Cascading around the space with steps forward-backward and side-to-side, arms spread open then closed, her words themselves seemed to smile.
They also recounted memories of childhood — her mom’s near-magic ability to do their hair in a perfect but all-too-tight afro puff, with a giant pink polka-dotted bow as the finishing touch. I felt honoured to be welcomed into a space where I could appreciate art that so many audience members resonated with on an intimate level, as evidenced by the crowd’s intermittent soft laughter of understanding.
Next up was Sonya Littlejohn. She began by taking a step away from the microphone, letting their voice expand and envelop the room with its seemingly effortless gravitas. Cascading around the space with steps forward-backward and side-to-side, arms spread open then closed, her words themselves seemed to smile. As they spoke about nature, the purples and greens on stage melded into a luscious forest. To borrow from Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are, “The walls became the world all around.” I was pulled out of my woodland fantasy when Littlejohn stepped to the mic and let her tone fall to a quaint whisper, only to raise it again in what could only be described as a . . . dolphin voice?
Poetry continued to flow from other speakers through the night. From masks of self-pity, to raccoons eating chicken soup with turmeric off the front porch steps, to reluctantly killing spiders, the art remained unique to each performer’s worldly experience. The evening was made complete by an alluring display of Black authored books from Wildfires Bookshop, and the best Jamaican patties you’ll ever taste from Rise Up Marketplace. The open mic was a heartening showcase of the power behind the authentically spoken word, and I was lucky enough to attend.
