April 2003

by Carla Kucinski

POWER OF THE SPOKEN WORD

Performance artist relies on poetry without the MTV flash and dance

Alix Olson remembers feeling dwarfed by her teacher.

It was her earliest memory of female oppression, she said. All she wanted was to join the boys who were lifting chairs off the desks. Her fourth-grade teacher wouldn’t let her; it was a boy’s job.

“I remember being mad that I couldn’t do it for the girls,” Olson said.

When Olson asked why she couldn’t help, the teacher gave her a pat answer: life isn’t fair.

“I was going to spend the rest of my life proving that it could be,” she said.

Olson is a spoken word artist who uses poetry as a platform to talk about feminism, politics and oppression. Spoken word performances are like hyped-up poetry readings. It incorporates theatrics and, in Olson’s case, sometimes music.

“We live in such a media flashy, MTV culture that it is difficult for people to realize that there’s nothing else coming out,” said Olson, 27. “It’s one body on stage, one voice, and just words and a desire to give those words. And that’s kind of interesting watching people realize that that’s all there is.”

Olson was recently nominated for Outstanding Debut Artist, Female Outstanding Producer, and Outstanding Songwriter for the 2002 OutMusic Awards, a Grammy-like event in New York City that recognizes musicians in the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender community. She returns to Ladyfest Lansing this year with new material from her latest album, Independence Meal, due out April 15.

The album expresses Olson’s ideas of what it means to be independent. It’s about the fight for the right to free speech, about Olson’s own quest for independence after a break up with her partner Amy Neevel, and about learning how to reconstruct friendships.

“It’s very spontaneous, musically,” Olson said. “I really felt the need for music in my life. I grabbed a few friends and sequestered them in a studio for a week, and we came up with a bunch of different ideas.”

A straightforward, radical feminist, Olson examines gender roles and gives voice to personal and global issues. Her debut CD, Built Like That, delivers words like punches. She criticizes capitalist culture in pieces like “America’s on Sale” and lends a voice to the oppressed in “Warriors.” (Lyrics: “We gotta use our black and blues like a second skin/Let our bruises thicken, then begin again/ We gotta get up when we’re pushed to the ground/They ain’t gonna hear us if we’re screaming face down.”)

“I really try to think about what we’re feeling collectively as a human species at times and to put myself at the center of it because you have to be a narcissist to be a poet,” she said, laughing.

The energy and fire you hear on Olson’s CD is magnified on stage. She wants to create a connection between the performer and audience.

“I don’t just dribble out words into empty space,” Olson said.

The Bethlehem, Pa. native discovered the power of words early in life. One of her elementary school teachers used to send her to kindergarten classes to read her stories.

“I think there are a lot of writers who walk around talking and they don’t realize they’re writers,” Olson said. “Once I started writing it down, I realized that I was also a writer. My primary love affair is speaking out loud.”

That love affair intensified when Olson went to a poetry slam at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in New York City and went on to become a member of the 1998 Nuyorican National Championship Slam Team.

“Poetry is the easiest way for me to filter the world,” Olson said. “The easiest way for me to figure that out is to make the article precious and to find the words that dignify the sentiment.”

Being political was never a choice, she said.

“To me, an artist is someone who comments on the world. Maybe it’s because I’m a women, maybe it’s because I’m a lesbian that I can’t imagine speaking from the outside. It’s always what I was drawn to. I’ve always had a rage to be beautiful and honest as well.”

Olson admits that being political also means taking a risk with an audience who may see her as a preachy artist. But she doesn’t view her performances that way.

“That’s not at all why I write,” Olson said. “That’s too bossy. People really need to be willing to take what you say and play with it and throw it back to you.

“If your purpose was to educate, they wouldn’t want to listen. I try to speak to my truth with the hopes that people will feel free to do the same thing.”