by Stazja McFadyen

What's in a name?
That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
-- William Shakespeare, from Romeo and Juliet

Take a whiff of these monikers: Clebo Rainey. Buddy Ray McNiece. Timothy "Speed" Levitch. Names you will not find in spring catalogs of garden-variety tea roses. And once you have witnessed Clebo strut bare-chested through an audience demanding "amens" with a convincing revivalist preacher impersonation in his signature performance piece, "Rarefied in Arkansas," you will find Dallas' most famous slam poet has little in common with vegetation. Rainey, McNiece and Levitch are but a few of the spoken word artists scheduled to perform at SXSW.

And the Bard himself should take note that after three years at Mojo's Daily Grind on the Drag, far from the madding crowd, SXSW spoken word programming is moving downtown to Ruta Maya Coffee House, where the action is. Affordable action. Expanded this year from two to three nights, the spoken word performances won't cost a $95 wristband or a leg, only $5 per night.

Mike Henry, who coordinates the SXSW spoken word showcases, believes this move will help bridge the gap between audiences and some of the top national and local spoken word artists. Henry co-produced the 1998 National Poetry Slam in Austin last August. Among the sell-out crowd at the 1200-seat Paramount Theatre were such journalistic luminaries as Dan Rather and Molly Ivins, not to mention Patricia Smith, formerly of the Boston Globe and a past National Slam champion, who emcee'd during the NPS finals that drew national media from CNN, PBS, the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal.

In his business office at the Electric Lounge, Mike Henry told me recently, "The Nationals showed spoken word is a viable, marketable medium." Mike is co-owner of the Electric Lounge, home of Austin's weekly poetry slams. Although the National Poetry Slam talent pool is the backbone of SXSW programming, Henry's showcase line-up will offer diversity not limited to slam. This might or might not be an asset. During last year's SXSW spoken word, a faltering manuscript reading by a yawner whose name conveniently eludes me was a thorn in the programming, certainly not in the same performance league as top talent available right here at home; talent such as Genevieve Van Cleeve, who emceed at Mojo's, or Susan B. Anthony Somers-Willett (yes, her real name), both national slam veterans.

But fresh voices are on the bill this March. And a three minute slam time limit could not contain the inspired musings of Timothy "Speed" Levitch. A hybrid between "Weird" Al Yankovich and a cabalistic mystic, Levitch has garnered critical acclaim for his role in The Cruise, the black and white independent docu-flick that chronicles the New York City tour bus guide cum poet/philosopher.

Mike Henry's interest in SXSW goes beyond spoken word. As with so many of the downtown venues which stand to bank six weeks of receipts in the five days of SXSW, the Electric Lounge needs the cash. In January, it was announced that creditor pressures threatened to close the doors at the Electric Lounge, one of the most popular music stages in the live music capital of the world, a title earned directly from the mid-March music industry milieu. They gained enough steam through such "Lounge Aid" class acts as Guy Forsyth and a rare reunion of the Blue Plate Poets to pay the bills at least through SXSW.

An accomplished slam poet himself, Henry smells success in the future of poetry performances, and he is ambitious. On a succession of Tuesday nights, you can find him leaving the Electric Lounge bar untended for three-minute intervals while taking the stage to compete for $50 and a qualifying spot in the annual city slam-off, which will determine the four-member team representing Austin at the 1999 National Poetry Slam in Chicago.

In February, Mike earned a near-perfect score of a possible 30.0 from the 5-judge panel for his piece about having a "Good Penis Day." He won the first place $50 cash prize and qualified for the city slam-off. Henry will need more good days. His intent is to put the performing hopefuls in front of the "industry" to mine the market potential of spoken word during SXSW. And keep the Electric Lounge alive beyond March. And come out smelling like a rose.