Niles District Library’s first “Audible Art: People Out Loud” Saturday afternoon was a joke — told by Margaret Dyer of Toastmasters.
And Tammy Yeager, human resources and community events coordinator at Borgess-Lee Memorial Hospital in Dowagiac, spun an original story.
Audible Art was also a wild goose chase.
And boisterous gospel music played on guitar and drums by high-rise neighbors Kevin Blair (“Rap On and Rave,” YouTube) and Walter Gregory, plus songs of William Shakespeare, “Christmas Blues” and “Biker Baby.”
And poetry. About menopause. By Robert Frost (Lisa Grant). By rapper Tupac Shakur. By Maya Angelou and Nikki Giovanni (Lake Michigan College student Lawanda Bell).
Original work by Latoya Jackson; Jacob Huffman, 16, of Niles High School; Allen Bowers of LMC; Dakota Word, a Western Michigan University student and Four Flags Player, whose president, Catherine Heide, wrote “The Door.”
“I’m completely delighted with the beauty and magic you all have in you,” Heide said. “I knew it was here in Niles, but I never get a chance to see it, hear it and experience it.”
Writing a poem proved harder for a thespian than stepping into a role. “This meant I had to take something in myself, which is much more naked and revealing.”
Janine Frizzo-Horrigan of Birchbank Farms on Platt Street and Jim Rockhill as Tom Thumb recreated the 18th century with a folk tale, a satirical play excerpt and some lyrical verse.
“I am a re-enactor,” she said of their costumes.”
We have geese on the farm, so being anal-retentive historians, we did a lot of research. ‘Wild goose chase’ is first referenced in Shakespeare’s ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ The first goose was domesticated in 5,000 B.C., before chickens. In myth it is used as a bridge between the afterlife and angels. Italy has a goose salami festival. We have them on the farm because they’re useful, chasing snakes, keeping mice out of barns and they make wonderful watchdogs, honking when (herons) fly over.
“This decoy is made from a dock pylon. There is a lovely story from the Revolutionary War about an 8-year-old girl with a flock of 19 pet geese. They could hear the war coming and there was no room in the wagon. She put a note in the house asking them to be kind and not eat her geese. When they came back two weeks later, the farm had been ravaged, the buildings burned and there were goose carcasses nailed to the fireplace. She was devastated, but they left her gander and 18 pennies for each goose.”
Audible Art was also historical, with Jan Personette sharing the history of Fort St. Joseph.
And there was dreaming, such as Wanda Burgess’ vision for a nonprofit artists ranch.
Almost 50 curious people checked out the event, which coincides with April Poetry Month.
“Art comes in a lot of forms, and not all of them can be done with a paintbrush,” said Irinka, mistress of ceremonies and a cathartic performer whose work explored the generation gap with her father and the death of her former husband, father of her three children.
“He said he loved them, but he ran away. We were sad, but we survived. He was hollow inside. Alcohol had rotted him away. Life was a burden to him. He died as he lived: trying to escape life’s complications.”
“My father loved Western movies,” she said of her first slam poem. “We didn’t always get along and seemed to have very little in common. He grew up during the Depression and World War II. Animals went from pet to plate in the wink of an eye. I grew up in the anti-war, vegetarian tree-hugging 1960s. My grandfather died when my father was 11, so he had to work in the celery fields and only got a seventh grade education, which always bothered him. I came back from my first year of college a ’70s feminist. He figured we had nothing to talk about,” like when they watched ‘Gunsmoke’ and ‘Bonanza’ together because he had no interest in ‘Laugh-In’ or ‘All in the Family.’
“My way or the highway. My dad said that a lot. John Wayne was a strong working-class hero, a patriot, an adventurer and the best man he knew how to be  — just like my father. He felt the rift; I didn’t. His daughter loves Western movies, too.”
A retired teacher and librarian, Irinka ran poetry slams during two years in Hawaii and performed in “The Vagina Monologues.” Then she went to Las Vegas and was a “bathroom poet. The acoustics were great. I’m originally from Niles, but I lived around New York City for 15 years.
“I’ve been back in the community three or four years.”

— Niles Daily Star