Published April 08, 2004,
Lansing State Journal

by Mike Hughes

Performance poet Alix Olson brings her edgy work to Creole

Alix Olson could easily get by with just one dimension, one facet, one image.

That's the image Olson - coming to the Creole Gallery tonight - is known for. She's a full-throttle performance poet.

"Alix Olson is a red-hot, fire-bellied, feminismo-spewin' volcano," cartoonist Alison Bechdel wrote.

As it happens, though, that's just one of her dimensions. Olson also jokes quickly, laughs easily; she makes rage seem like a lot of fun.

"She's very intense on stage, very sweet off stage," said the Creole's Meegan Holland.

Such complexity makes life interesting. "There are two sides to any person," Olson said by phone. "One is outside, but we live inside."

In her case, it's easy to visit either side of her nature.

The fire comes from her mother, who's from the Bronx. The calm comes from her dad; he's from Fargo, on the Minnesota-North Dakota border, with the quiet depth that the movie "Fargo" suggests.

"I do think there's a sense of calm and listening in Minnesota," Olson said. Even after his aorta burst, she said, her dad was remarkably calm; he survived.

Want to look at two more sides of

Olson's life?

First, look back at her community-theater days in Pennsylvania. "I tried acting when I was 10 or 11," she said. "I was pretty girly looking, with long, blond hair."

Now catch Olson today - strong and strident and not even faintly girly. This is someone whose choruses announce:

Armpit Hair! Armpit Hair! (I like it)

Armpit Hair! Armpit Hair! (spike it, spike it!) ...

Armpit Hair! Armpit Hair! (you know it)

Armpit Hair! Armpit Hair! (grow it, grow it!)

The girly days are past. The newspaper LGNY sums her up as "Alix Olson, spoken word dyke diva, feminist punk activist, performance artist extraordinaire."

Holland is happy Olson will be here just six days after a Creole appearance by John Sinclair, the 1960s poet and activist.

"She's like a modern-day John Sinclair," Holland said. "She has a lot of anger ... I love her 'America For Sale.' It's very anti-corporate, anti-consumerism, anti-greed."

Olson's parents are from Sinclair's era of 1960s activism. Both are political-science professors in Bethlehem, Pa., at Lehigh University and Moravian

College.

It was at Wesleyan University, in Connecticut, that Olson found her own voice. "I took a course in African-American poetry," she said. "My teacher liked my work and told me to go to New York."

In 1997, she started working with Keith Roach, a New York City poet and teacher. "I was 21 and had no idea what was going on."

Her team won the National Slam Championship in 1998. Olson toured with the team, developing a style that is musical and literate, angry and fun.

Then she was ready to go solo. "It was a pretty organic shift," she said. "You have 20 minutes of material, then 30 minutes. Then you have an entire concert."

She was part of a national trend, with hot young poets emerging.

"I think people always have been good with words," Olson said. "The difference is a ... deformalization of poetry. ... They've been given permission to speak."

Modern poetry mirrors rap music, brings musical energy and passion.

It peaks with the "Def Poetry Jam" series on HBO.

Olson has taped an appearance in the upcoming "Def" season, but it wasn't one of her favorite moments.

"It's a lot of hours of hair and makeup," she said. "That tends to take the passion out of it. ... It's really the antithesis of what you're trying to do."

What she's trying to do is create a vibrant, live experience. Some nights, that's in big theaters; tonight, it will be in an intimate, 100-seat room.

"I like that, because I can see the people," Olson said. "I can tell if people are hearing it. ... I know that some of what I say is inflammatory, but you want to engage people."


Contact Mike Hughes at 377-1156 or mhughes@lsj.com.