On November 10th, 2010 lyric poet Gregory Orr read a few of his poems at The Bowery Poetry Club in New York, New York. The event was organized by performance poet Taylor Mali for his series, Page Meets Stage (PMS...yikes!).
With only 614 views since its upload on March 3, 2011, Gregory Orr has yet to attract a public following equal to the praise that has been showered upon him by such distinguished organizations as the Virginia Quarterly Review (for which Orr was Poetry Editor from 1978 to 2003), National Public Radio's All Things Considered, and the National Endowment for the Arts. Hmm...
Although Orr's presence on camera is inward and flailing, he intones his lines well, coordinating stress and release appropriately (disclaimer: for the habitual user of salt crystals for deodorant, you will find Orr's swaying gesticulation highly interesting and, dare I say, captivating even).
Unfortunately, Orr sighs and moans ad nauseam about the presence of the "beloved" moving "through the world, is the world" and how it refuses to "incarnate in a final form". He also offers plenty of gratuitous, Gaia inspired references such as "birds flitting" and "you can't see it, but you can here its song" that are sure to whip hoards of aging, wiry-haired hippies into a psychic frenzy. It's not that Orr is a bad poet. In fact, he demonstrates clear command of verse, imagery, and figurative language; it's just that Orr remains an antiquated throwback to the 1960s psychedelic movement. The 21st century artist should be well beyond the simplistic notion that there exists some mystic earth-fairy to whom we must attune for spiritual salvation and guidance. In the end, Orr's poetry fails to articulate a viable and sophisticated solution other than the vacuous, feel-good New Age spiritualism he's known for dishing out.
