Poetry readings are largely hit-and-miss affairs; some of the classic great poets have proved to be the worst readers of poetry. E.E. Cummings mumbled and spoke as slowly as possible, leaving large gaps between individual words and sentences. Robert Pinsky, on the other hand, has the richest, most welcoming voice in poetry today, and he speaks often, too. The popular recent forum for poetry readings, the poetry slam, seeks to change the sporadic nature of poetry readings by emphasizing the musicality and sound of the words. Overall, poetry slams have brought an excitement and enthusiasm that seems to often be lacking in poetry readings. However, it also has seemed to de-emphasize the importance of the poetry, creating poetry that is more immature and less substantive. It is a rare feat to find a poetry reading that caters to both sound and meaning.

This past Wednesday, eminent American poet Robert Creeley read poetry that he composed in response to the paintings of artist Francesco Clemente, whose work is now being displayed at the Rose Art Museum. Although there were some sound difficulties with the choice of room and the large amount of people attending, Creeley did an excellent job of performing poetry with vast meaning while engaging the audience through a combination of his humor, geniality and warmth. It was not an intimate poetry reading, but it was a successful one.

Creeley started the talk very humbly, relating some stories about his first coincidental encounters with Clemente in New York and Finland in the '80s. Creeley discussed his larger themes and ideas relating to the art, mainly that works are "places to be entered...places not just to respond to, but places to be." He noted that these were places that were "not distracted with description...hidden places." The main themes of his poetry revolved around space, the gaps between peoples, echoes and circles. He seemed very concerned with resonance as well and attempted to transfer his impressions of the paintings without stressing the imagery too much.

The real charm in the reading was Creeley's careful voice. He picked apart lines without slowing up the natural rhythm of the words, and his voice had a sad, salty sound that was perpetually on the brink of some tortured truth. Creeley let his voice-scratchy and real-tremble at times, the quality of his age coming across proudly yet very particularly.

He is able to mix and transpose the intellectual to the audience, regardless of their background. He seemed to be an approachable, human poet-a rare feat indeed. He often stopped abruptly in the middle of reading poems to elucidate what he just said, or explain his intentions when he wrote. Then he would read a poem all over again so the audience could appreciate it even more. It was in this off-handed presence that he seemed most comfortable. In this refreshing mutual appreciation and respect by poet and audience, a superior atmosphere was forged; everyone together was thinking about, pontificating on and trying to understand the wonderful paintings of Clemente.