Yellow Lamp Poetry Review

Even though winter in Tāmaki can feel miserable and devoid of fun, there are still great things happening, so I dragged myself from the warmth of my bed to Basement Theatre.

Pictured: Carrie Rudzinski sourced from Yellow Lamp

When I was approached with the prospect of going to a poetry reading, I was sceptical to say the least. When you picture poetry readings, you might, like me, naively imagine something dull and stuffy, or cringe-inducing commentaries on society reimagined into hip-hop.

I have, however, never been happier to be wrong about something. We were ushered up to the Basement studio space, the smell of mulled wine permeating the room as virtually all seats were filled. The stage was dark, a single microphone and stool illuminated by what I can only assume to be the yellow lamp, with a number of poetry books scattered on the floor.

The vibe was open and communal from the second we walked in, people connecting and making friends, sharing what had brought them in tonight. But my heart quickly dropped when the words were uttered, "Will you be signing up for the open mic?" I quickly stumbled out a no, terrified at the prospect of audience participation.

But, once again, I needn't have worried. The room hushed, and Ash, who I can only assume from context is the soul of Yellow Lamp, took to the small stage.

He introduced himself and the event with a quick poem, and the open mic began.

Pictured: Ash Raymond James sourced from Yellow Lamp

The open mic was a brief introduction to what poetry readings actually were, as opposed to the monstrosity I had unfortunately built up in my head. A comforting place for people to share their art, without iambic pentameter or choreographed blocking. The open mic ended with a beautiful piece from a doctor at Starship Hospital that left a lot of us in the room speechless.

Next on the program were the three features poets. First was Zephyr Zhang, perhaps my favourite of the night and significantly younger than you'd probably expect for a poetry reading. Their poets were very loosely animal-themed (I was instantly on board), and were a perfect balance of profound and hilariously endearing.

Next was Michael Giacon, whose poems were a touching collection about his life as an Italian-Aotearoan gay man, mostly focusing on his youth in Auckland throughout the 60s-70s. Hearing about Mt Eden and Karangahape Road from someone who has witnessed so much change in Tāmaki was really beautiful, and so special to hear it in a place as beloved as Basement.

Pictured: Zephyr Zhang sourced from Yellow Lamp

The final featured poet of the evening was Carrie Rudzinski, whose poems came from experiences like moving to Aotearoa from the US, surviving a car accident and having a creepy, pervy boss.

She was unapologetically feminist (I was 100% the target audience), both vulnerable and outspoken, and without a doubt, touched everyone in that room in some way.

Yellow Lamp absolutely transformed my opinion on what poetry can be, especially in an age where it is increasingly difficult to find community, and it's something I would implore any sceptics who want to try something new to head along. It's cheap, it's fun, they have events on super frequently, and there were cookies.

See information from Yellow Lamp or the featured poets below:

@yellowlamppoetry on Instagram

@michaellagiacon

@klaxoon Zephyr Zhang

@splintercheek Carrie Rudzinski

Written by Emily Gunston

Craccum Entertainment Editor