Bards of the Brothel

The Poetry Brothel has found a titillating new way to showcase poets

By Guy Patrick Cunningham
Published: February 5th, 2009 | 12:30pm

“The idea is to not be boring.” According to co-founder Stephanie Berger, this is the organizing principle of the Poetry Brothel, an interactive literary event based in New York. Part poetry reading and part performance-art project, the Brothel has already struck a chord with scenesters and writers. In a typical brothel, people sell sex; at a poetry brothel, they sell poetry. And with a lot less irony than you’d expect.

On this winter night, the Zipper Factory, a bar in midtown Manhattan, has been converted into a makeshift “brothel,” complete with gypsies, a blackjack table, and a slew of elaborately costumed men and women calling themselves “whores.” The petite, redheaded Berger (a.k.a. the Madam) is onstage, introducing the evening’s featured “whore”: “Jimmie Savannah,” who is in fact 2008 National Book Award finalist Patricia Smith. A noted presence in the slam poetry world, Smith delivers a selection of poetry that is by turns ribald, combative, and beautiful.

And when she’s finished, the Brothel’s other co-founder, Nicholas Adamski (who is dressed as an eye patch–wearing figure named “Tennessee Pink”), auctions off a private reading with “Ms Savannah,” fetching bids upwards of fifty dollars. For a single poem.

But more unusually, nobody leaves after the auction, even though the night’s public reading is over. In fact, people are still arriving. Which is the point. While Ms Smith is the biggest name here, she isn’t the main event — the Brothel itself is. Berger explains that they want “to get away from the horrible structure of a poetry reading.” So in addition to Smith, there are 18 other poets presenting their work tonight. And while most of them preview a couple lines on stage, the only real way to hear their verse is one-on-one. People choose the poet they want to hear from, go into a separate reading area — at the Zipper Factory, “johns” were led upstairs to private tables — and then hear a poem.

It’s surprisingly intimate, and facilitates a give-and-take between reader and listener that wouldn’t happen at a straight poetry reading. Poet Jennifer Michael Hecht explains this is the main attraction for the poets who participate. “It’s really exciting to be in a small room and just give someone a poem,” she says.

The allusions to prostitution might make you assume the event is a postmodern commentary on the selling of art and literature. But the participants don’t see it that way. Instead, the brothel conceit is meant to create an air of mystery. The Brothel’s decor tends towards a twentieth-century bohemian vibe, and the night is more retro hip than salacious. In fact, Berger sees an upside to the group invoking a more traditional brothel. “We want…to teach people to believe their work is worth something,” Berger explains, noting how little most poets ever make off their writing. At the Brothel, poets negotiate their own prices with the “johns,” keeping whatever they make for themselves.

In the beginning, organizers expected the Brothel to be a low-key project, akin to a “party in the parlor.” Berger says she “imagined it as this small thing, with maybe 40 people there.” Instead the Brothels have drawn crowds as large as two hundred to various spaces in Manhattan and Brooklyn. They are now looking to expand their operations abroad, as former “whores” try to organize sister events in Barcelona and Paris.

Future plans also include guest editing a Poetry Brothel edition of the journal Pax Americana and offering workshops for poets looking to connect with the Brothel community. Berger hopes that this community could serve as an alternative for budding poets not interested in the MFA route, which often pushes poets into an academic career. “There are only so many teaching jobs,” she says. In fact, she first developed the idea in graduate school while putting together a resume — the process got her started thinking up a job that actually suited her skills and, voila, the Brothel was born.

Despite the hipsterish quality of some of the attendees, the night really does tend to focus on the “whores” and their work, which is the most novel thing about the Brothel. “Poetry doesn’t have many venues,” Hecht observes. Berger concurs, saying, “It’s cool to like painting, it’s cool to like music, but it’s not necessarily cool to like poetry.” If nothing else, the Brothel is finding an innovative way to dispel that.