Noche de poetas en Londres

Poets Night in London


Andrew Wylie*, Metro de Londres, 1972. Foto: Gerard Malanga

VICTOR BOCKRIS: John Calder, el propietario de Calder y Boyars, que era como la Grove Press inglesa, aceptó publicar una antología de los poetas de Telegraph en Inglaterra. Así pues Andrew Wylie, Gerard Malanga, Patti Smith y yo viajamos juntos a Londres en 1972.

El New Musical Press anunciaba en su artículo que Gerard Malanga iba a recitar junto a Patti Smith y Andrew Wylie.

GERARD MALANGA: Todos recitamos muy bien, lo dimos todo. Yo salí el último. El local era muy lujoso. Estaba tapizado de terciopelo rojo, como salido de una película de vaqueros. En aquella época yo vestía completamente de blanco, pasaba por un periodo espiritual. Me creía un Don Juan, leía a J. D. Salinger y a Castañeda, ja, ja, ja.

VICTOR BOCKRIS: En aquellos días, Gerard iba totalmente de blanco. Creo que acababa de regresar de la India o algo así. Todo el mundo se arremolinaba alrededor, y él se sentó en el suelo con las piernas cruzadas, y empezó a leer sin ser anunciado, y de repente todo el mundo era como, "sssshhhhh, Gerard va a leer." Leía unos poemas tipo Robert Creely, algo así como: "Miré, pero no estabas en la habitación y eras la luz a través de la ventana ..." Entonces salió Patti y estuvo realmente brillante. Sabía lo que se hacía. Por aquel entonces era muy inteligente acerca de la forma de vestir. Llevaba una especie de holgada camiseta blanca que realmente acentuaba sus pechos. Patti tiene grandes pechos. Había salido en la portada del Time Out, desnuda de cintura para arriba, sosteniendo un martillo -una corbata como única prenda- y el peinado a lo Keith Richards. Aquella noche ella leyó poemas de Seventh Heaven [Séptimo Cielo], pero luego empezó un relato en verso, y dijo: "Aún no he terminado de escribir esto, pero es algo así: "El niño miró a Jesús mientras bajaba por las escaleras", y de repente se olvidó de como seguía, y dijo," Oh mierda, se me ha olvidado ".
Todo el mundo estaba completamente de su lado- "Oh, eso es genial, se olvidó su poema", pero entonces ella dijo, "pero lo voy a hacer de todos modos, ¡qué coño!", y se lo fue inventando sobre la marcha.
Allí estaba aquella chica punk, una punkilla, haciendo gala de una efectividad tremenda. Tenía al público entregado. Nadie había visto nunca nada igual. Finalmente salió Andrew Wylie pero tuvo menos tiempo que el resto de nosotros, porque el dueño del cine porno donde se celebraba el evento tenía que cerrar. Así que Andrew estuvo muy presionado por la falta de tiempo, y creo que se había dado cuenta de que Patti era la estrella de la noche, y una vez has visto a la estrella no quieres ver nada más.
Así que nos fuimos a tomar una copa después, y todo el mundo decía, "Habeis cambiado Londres esta noche, bla, bla, bla." Patti y Gerard desaparecieron. Gerard vivía en su propio mundo, y Patti era demasiado reservada para salir con nosotros. Creo que pasó la noche con Sam Shepard.

GERARD MALANGA: Fue una coincidencia que Sam Shepard estuviera en Londres, y cuando me enteré que Patti necesitaba un sitio, le dí la llave de la habitación del hotel y le dije: "Oye, usa mi habitación por la tarde." La mañana después de la lectura de poemas nos fuimos todos a desayunar juntos a Knightsbridge, en frente de la iglesia a la que solía ir Ezra Pound. Luego fuimos a la sesión de fotos de promoción para Telegraph Books.

VICTOR BOCKRIS: Gerard me dijo: "No se lo digas a nadie. Se supone que Sam Shepard no debería estar aquí.". Le dije: "Está bien", a pesar de que no tenía ni idea quién era Sam Shepard. Era un tipo muy llamativo y tenía el pelo largo. Se quedaba a un lado tipo, ya sabes, como, "No le digas a nadie que estoy aquí". Estaba casado, y se suponía que no debería estar viendo a Patti. Hicimos toda una serie de fotos de promoción. Andrew con su boina y la chaqueta de cuero negro, yo con mi larga bufanda blanca, Patti con su pelo negro. Ya sabes, todos montábamos nuestro pequeño número.

GERARD MALANGA: Al volver a Nueva York, Patti Smith y Sam Shepard montaron una obra de teatro juntos que se llamaba Cowboy Mouth. Ahí estaban esos dos escritores, en plena relación, y escribieron esa obra juntos, y era como tener una aventura sentimental en público.

Extracto de 'Por Fávor Mátame: La Historia Oral del Punk' (Legs McNeill & Gillian McCain, 1996).

*Andrew Wylie es actualmente el más famoso agente literario, apodado "El Chacal" por sus métodos para los negocios. En aquellos días bohemios ya se dedicaba a imprimir libros y presentaba su propia colección de poemas eróticos (que al parecer ahora tilda de error juvenil) titulado 'Flores Amarillas'.

VICTOR BOCKRIS: John Calder, who ran Calder and Boyars, which was like the Grove Press of England, agreed to publish an anthology of the Telegraph writers. So Andrew Wylie, Gerard Malanga, Patti Smith and I went to London together in 1972. Gerard's visit was written up in the New Musical Express and the article said that Gerard Malanga was reading with Patti Smith and Andrew Wylie.

GERARD MALANGA: We all gave great readings -we really put out. I went on last. The place was very plush. It was cushioned in red velvet, like something out of a cowboy movie. I was wearing all white at the time- I was going through my spiritual period, I was on a Don Juan trip, reading J. D. Salinger and Castaneda and getting all worked up, ha ha ha.

VICTOR BOCKRIS: In those days, Gerard wore totally white. He'd just come back from India or something. Everyone was milling around, and he just sat on the ground cross-legged, and started reading without being announced, and suddenly everyone was going, "sssssshhhhhh, Gerard's reading."

He was reading this Robert Creeley-type poetry, like, "I looked but YOU were not THERE in the ROOM and you were the LIGHT corning through the window ... "

Then Patti carne out and she was really brilliant. She knew what she was doing. Back then she was very clever about the way she dressed. She was wearing a sort of baggy white T-shirt that really accented her breasts. Patti has big breasts. She'd been on the cover of Time Out, naked from the waist up, holding a hammer- naked except for a necklace -and she had the black Keith Richards hairdo.

That night she read stuff from Seventh Heaven, but then she told this poem-like story, and she said, "I haven't finished writing this yet, but it goes like this, 'The boy looked at Jesus as he carne down the steps,' " and she got confused in the middle, but she said, "Oh fuck it, I forgot it."

Everyone was completely with her- "Oh, that's really cool, she forgot her poem" -but then she said, "But I'll make it up anyway, what the fuck," and she made it up as she went along.

So she was really a punk, a punkette , and it was very, very effective. The audience was completely blown away. Nobody had ever seen anything like it.

Then Andrew Wylie came on, and because he'd insisted on reading last, he had less time than the rest of us, because the porn-theater owner had to close the place or he would get busted. So Andrew was under a lot of time pressure, and I think he realized that Patti was the star act, and once you see the star act you don't really wanna see anything else.

So we went out for a drink afterwards, and everyone said, "You guys changed London overnight, blah blah blah." Patti and Gerard disappeared. Gerard was living in his own little world , and Patti was too aloof to be hanging out with us -I think she spent the night with Sam Shepard. GERARD MALANGA: It was a coincidence that Sam Shepard was in London, and so when I got wind that Patti needed a place, I gave her the key to my hotel room and said, "Hey, take my room for the afternoon." The morning after the poetry reading we all went out to breakfast together in Knightsbridge in front of the church that Ezra Pound used to go to. Then we went to the photo session for Telegraph Books.

VICTOR BOCKRIS: Gerard said to me, "Don't tell anyone. Sam Shepard's not supposed to be here ." I said, "Okay ," even though I didn't know who Sam Shepard was. He was very gaudy and had long hair - he just stood off to the side, you know, like, "Don't tell anyone I'm here." He was married, and he wasn't supposed to be seeing Patti. There's a whole series of those publicity photographs taken - Andrew in his beret and black leather jacket, me with my long white scarf, Patti with her black hair. You know, we all had our little number.

GERARD MALANGA: Back in New York, Patti Smith and Sam Shepard did a play together called Cowboy Mouth. Here were these two writers, having an affair, and they wrote this play together, and it was kind of like having a love affair onstage.

Excerpt from 'Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk' (Legs McNeill & Gillian McCain, 1996).

*Andrew Wylie is in current days the most notorious writers agent, often nicknamed "The Jackal" for his business methods. In those bohemian times he was already printing books and presenting his own collection of poems (wich he seems to have referred to as a mistake of youth) titled 'Yellow Flowers'.