It’s a coincidence that I ended up, after all, basing my documentary on poetry in Manhattan and the Bowery Poetry Club as the nexus of it (the BPC does hold that distinction, with the greatest sheer variety). This was one of my first ideas, but I felt like it was too fluffy, or something like that. But this is not the coincidence. That would be the fact that one of the very first images I shot with the camcorder that I bought for this class was a poetry reading at the BPC, that I just happened to be at. One of the notables was Taylor Mead, a very old man who was once part of Andy Warhol’s factory scene. He name dropped Warhol incessantly, in case the audience missed the point.
Anyhow, he was damn good. SEEEEE:
Though Taylor was swamped with sycophants that night, I have a feeling that he would do an interview. He does a show at the BPC every Friday night. He lives in the neighborhood and this is just part of his weekly ritual. He was such a peculiar old man. Though he must be in his Eighties, he talked about his father and his family as if he were still the prodigal child, or the black sheep that embarrassed his aristocratic parents. He even said at one point, “The problem with growing old is that you’re still young.” From interviews with him that I have seen, it seems that he is pretty well established as a local historical authority on a certain scene – Warhol, 1960’s New York, the Art scene at that time. He is fascinating in himself, but I don’t know what place he would have in my documentary about contemporary New York poetry. Please leave a comment if you can think of an answer to this dilemma.