Sam Severin, Meet Alix Olson: an interview with alix olson

from
Tooth and Nail
Summer 2002

page design: Kpoene' Kofi-Bruce

Sam Severin, Meet Alix Olson: an interview with alix olson

Sam: I was wondering what your writing process was like - a lot of walking in circles, sitting down? Events that start you going?
Alix: First of all, I'm really fascinated by pop-culture. I think it says a lot about what people's heads are being filled with. I mean, it says a lot that my friends know so much about Brittany Spears. It's just pounded into us. I also subscribe to a bunch of magazines, newspapers and A LOT of list servers. I'm an information junkie. So, much of my work begins with that. I'm also pretty inspired by living in New York City - riding the subways, walking down the avenues. Pieces of conversations just flitter on by. I grab at 'em when I can. I had a conversation last night about the merging of the Democrats and Republicans with my cabbie last night. Writing Process is less clear. I don't have a regime. It comes when it comes, I guess. I take from my journal. I write a lot walking down the street, actually. In the shower, sometimes. I write whenever I think best - they're a mutual process for me.

S: I read an article in Ms. where you talk about an incident in VT when a man approached you after a show, calling you a 'male basher and communist.' I know that there are strong reactions to your work, both in support and in opposition. Was there ever a point when you felt that the negative reactions were too strong/too loud/ too close to you?
AO: uhhh, I don't wanna jinx myself here, but I don't get a whole lot of negative reactions. Mainly, I suppose, because my audiences are for the most part self-selected. They invite me to their school, their community center, their fundraiser or they some to a show in the city that Feed the Fire sponsors. Even a national publication like Ms. Magazine is an audience of a lot of people who probably understand where I'm coming from even if we have differences in how we approach the world. That's both a virtue and a problem, I suppose. I did get one really bad review from the Concerned Women for America. They sent someone to a national NOW conference to cover the conference and its performers and went on a crusade about how feminists are all lesbians and anti-Jesus. The works. But, I write about what I know and what I feel and what I believe in at this moment in my life and no reaction, positive or negative, can really change that.

S: Your work speaks to a lot of different political and personal issues, but it seems that queer women can identify most closely with that you are saying. Do you find that the majority of support for your work comes from the queer female community?
AO: Yes, that seems to be the case. And that makes me feel really good. I love queer women and I guess they can tell that. The thing is, I really resent that "mainstream" (i.e.: white, male, profit DRIVEN - if not necessarily white, male, profit CREATED) work is never critiqued for lack of "broader appeal" That only happens to the performers and audiences of minority identity communities. Folks gotta get their lil butts out and see what non-"CATS!" audiences look like, what non - Jack London writers and performers are talking about. And if they don't, I'll still be honored to have the cutest, most political, most invested audience around.

SS: There was a review of your performance at Middlebury College in the school paper back in 1999 in which the reviewer said that attempts at mixing art and politics usually turn out poorly [I disagree] (but that you did it well.). Do you find that to be the case?
AO: Nah. What does that mean? Art can't escape being political because both art and politics are reflective of a particular cultural setting, of the body of the people of whom you are a part. If you're not overtly political, you're being passively or passive-aggressively political in your subjective non-politicalness. I think that's worse - to not even have control over how you're being read. Like Eminem saying, "folks are taking me too seriously. Don't pay attention to each and every lyric. Some of 'em are just art or whatever." Oh really? Then, why'd you waste any of your life creating those lyrics? It all matters to someone somewhere. Artists gotta keep that in mind.

SS: There is a power in performance poetry that very rarely gets replicated down on the page. But, are there any page poets that really stand out in your mind as having a big impact on how you see the world?
AO: I really like the way that's phrased. Often that question comes off as "is what you do still poetry since, ostensibly, poetry should be most powerful and sturdy on the page?" Yes. I love Adrienne Rich, Audre Lorde, Alan Ginsberg, Ani DiFranco, Indigo Girls, Nikki Giovanni.

SS: Who are the slam poets out there now that you respect?
AO: Steve Coleman, Roger Bonair-Agard, Lynne Procope, Guy Gonzales - my Nynorican team who create, perform, teach and curate slam poetry. I really respect the artists who are dedicated to spreading the art form of spoken word and who are constantly evolving and experimenting with themselves and their art. I just bought Sekou Sundiata's CD and have been liking that.

SS: I know that a lot of young girls listen to your work - especially young queer girls that may be struggling with their thoughts about their sexuality. Were there any particular words (spoken/sung/etc) that helped you, at a young age, look at your sexuality in a way that was helpful?
AO: Oh man, well there wasn't a whole lot of spoken word around when I was in high school. The artists who touched my life in that kind of profound way were the Indigo Girls. My 9th grade English teacher played "Closer to Fine" for us as an example of poetry. I'll always love and respect him for doing that. It became sort of an anthem for my best friend and me and allowed us to embrace the honor of words through music. Enya was some of the music that provoked a sense of sensuality. And I loved the Cure in high school - the music felt very sexually ambiguous, which I was drawn to.

SS: I was talking to a friend the other day about your work and she was saying how amazed she was that you were able to write such powerful pieces in form - how you were able to twist around traditional forms and not loose any of the strength in your words. A lot of rhyme gets in the way of meaning. How do you balance the two?
AO: I think in rhyme a lot of the time, quite honestly. And I just recently became aware of how formulaic my work is. Because I write much of my work in my head and don't jot it all down until later on I'm never really thinking of how its going to look or what form it's in. I did study a lot of poetry throughout high school and college and so form is probably just part of how I write. It never gets in the way; if anything, rhyme is a wonderful structural confine for me to work within. There are a trillion ways to say something and so if I can limit it to "well, it's gotta rhyme with such 'n such and sound good within a certain phraseology", it's actually pretty helpful.

SS: I heard that you had dreams of being a folk singer and I saw on your web page that Pamela Means and Catie Cutis are helping out on some of the pieces on your up-coming CD. There is a quality to your work - the story telling - that is usually found most readily in folk music. Do you think that you'll ever pick up a guitar again?
AO: Hmmmm, who knows?? I'd love to! But, I've also had such a great time working with all of these musicians and singers and working out the ways in which spoken word and music flow into one another.

SS: Are your pieces in constant revision or do you ever come across a piece that is 'finished'? Because your work deals so directly with the political and the social, are your poems in constant revision or do you ever come to a place where you say 'this is finished'?
AO: Most of my pieces I consider finished, but I would never consider 'em to be set in stone. I dunno. I guess I don't have a philosophy about it.

SS: I know that a lot of people come into their political activism in earnest in their late teens and early twenties - was that the case for you? When did you become really conscious of queer/feminist/etc. politics?
AO: My parents are both political science professors and were always involved in local and national political elections and happenings while I was growing up. SO I was always surrounded by these earnest people who cared about the world. Some of my earliest memories are of coloring under a conference table, hearing heated debates and discussions and helping to draw protest signs. So, I suppose activism as a concept was central to my development. Both of my families are feminist, left wing, queer-positive, etc. and I was raised to be incredibly gender fluid. My town, however, was markedly different in all of these respects. So, I think that my understanding of how necessary it was to be vocal about what you believe in may have come from this gap. I remember in fifth-grade, volunteering to help move tables and my teacher saying it was only for boys. I said, that's not fair. And my big, tough gray haired, almost six-foot, stern bull-dyke looking teacher said, "life's not fair." These are the moments, how you process them, what you let them do to you, that's another story.

SS: Now that the Supreme Court has decided that Bush is our President, are you worried? Because I am.
AO: You know, I'm disappointed in our justice system. I'm angry at Gore and the Democratic Party for being so wimpy. Like Rage Against the Machine said at the Anti-Democratic Convention "hey there's another show across the street, but it's sold out." And, frankly, I think we should have ALL voted for Nader. At least, we'd have a fiscally supported third party in the next election. I am fearful of the Bush Cabinet and their Corporate Sons and Daughters. But I also have a lot of faith and optimism about the integrity of our population as a whole and the ways in which we will see through some of this crap and begin to really get down to the work of changing things.

SS: I was just wondering if you could talk a little about feed the fire productions and the slam poetry workshops that you run - the Youth Aloud project. There are so few workshops for kids/teenagers that really let them express themselves out loud and honestly.
AO: I think there are more workshops for honest statement, actually. At least here in New York City, there are tons of programs run by dedicated and very low-paid or volunteer staff that encourage open and free statement by teenagers. Project Youth Aloud is a project that was begun by my partner in crime, Amy Neevel (who co-founded FTF Prod.) and was an alumni grant sponsored by the Joseph F. Wall Foundation for Grinnell College in Iowa (where she went to school). Basically, the project entails spoken word workshops. The difficulty is that the students often change, so it's hard to get a sense of consistency and trust (for example, Rikers' Island is one of our locations and students may be in court, or released, or sent upstate, etc.). But, I have found that the staff at these schools are generally incredibly dedicated, responsive, enthusiastic and more than hard working. The students, of course, have a lot to say once they start. Their stories are absolutely unparallel. As is their pain. And their joy.

SS: What about coalition building? Listening to your stuff you seem to speak to an urgency surrounding people getting together and talking to each other about the stuff that is going on in their communities and in their homes and in the world. But, do you think that there is a place for separatism?
AO: Yep. It's all important.

SS: Once when I saw you perform in VT you questioned the idea of queer women and men entering the heterosexual/patriarchal tradition of marriage … why would we want to take on and claim that tradition as part of our relationships? How do you see the Civil Unions Bill that passed in VT?
AO: I think any Acts that proclaim the civil equality of people are positive and a step in the direction of justice. I think these sorts of congressional measures are significant in terms of partner rights, domestic benefits, shared health-car, visiting loved ones in hospitals, parental rights, all of the things that wifey-husbandy's take for granted. It's absolutely sickening that we have to fight and petition for legislation defending these sorts of things. However, I also believe that we live in a problematically partner-based society and that not enough emphasis is placed on the fight for individual rights to things such as health care. Why do I have to fight to have a right to my partner's health insurance, just like Mrs. Jones has with Mr. Jones? Why don't Mrs. Jones and I deserve health insurance as a basic citizen's rights? Lastly, I do have my own personal issues with the property-based nature of the HIStory of marriage. Even though we've gotten rid of some of that connotation, marriage is still held up as the revered, most sanctimonious cornerstone of love and I really resent that sort of 'legitimizing force' being shoved up our noses all of the time. (Anyone got a wedding cake tissue?) I bet the wedding industry's one of the most prosperous in the country, just a hunch. BUT people gotta do what they gotta do to feel good and right and whole and I'll fight my damndest to widen and equalize the choices to which we have access. That's just justice, plain 'n simple.

SS: Thanks so much, Alix

All Pictures courtesy

alixolson.com