THE MELTING POT NYC

FEBRUARY 1, 2003

Club Demerara

215 W. 28th Street
New York City


I was interested in what the lady bartender had said. Something about how she was thoroughly impressed with the quality of the Melting Pot crowd. Upscale, diverse, professional, and how much she liked to mingle amongst them herself. Yeah, the Melting Pot's crowd was just that: a multicultural mix of earth kids with headwraps and dashikis to casually dressed folks fresh from a nice dinner in midtown to a few rag tag b-boys and girls in sweat and sneakers squirming and itching to move on the dancefloor and to others folks who just happen to be in the stew of things.


I casually mingled in the close coziness of the Melting Pot family. Having attended the first Melting Pot in September, I was impressed with the collage of performers, spontaneous spoken word, to visual art spread throughout the venue. This time around I took in the visual art by featured artists like the limitless multi-media expressions of Shweta Bhardwaj, Head Fashion Consultant of Mondomedeusah and photographers Jesse Curtis, whose pictures worked to add dimension and scope through the eyes of her subjects while Hassan Kinley_s images of candidly presented day life and love in the Dominican Republic.


A sista planted incense around the room that enabled the dancers to see themselves amongst the smoke that waffled upwards to the yellow and red hazy lights. Just in time, as the crowd was ready for the poet, Postmidnight, from the creative duo, BodyPoets. The other half of duo was dancer/choreographer Kazum Motomura. We sat and stood at attention for Postmidnight's stoic black earth child demeanor guided our assumptions of what he might speak about. War and President Bush? The Man and Reparations? My Queen, the Black Woman? No. None of that. Instead, he humorously chuckled out a poem proclaiming his love for....bacon. Yes, bacon! His pro-pork diatribe was a wacky worded assault to the more righteous-than-thou Maxwell/Badu Mafioso kids that bombard the spoken work circuit with cowry shells, incense, backpacks and gardenburgers. We were cracking up as he ended his carnivorous guilt trip with beads of sweat on his brow and clinched teeth to qwell his appetite and love for 'the other white meat.' *giggles*


Later, my fellow audience members and I became antsy as we waited for the next artistic treat. We were thoroughly satisfied, as RhythMutation, a trio of eclectic performers took to the stage. Immediately, the crowd was struck by Chikako Iwahori, the fierce Asian girl, who possessed an in-yo-face slap happy toe tap steps while her ivory sista, Stephanie Larriere, parleyed a fanciful but adventurous footwork that complemented her companion. The two tap divas worked together with the fast procession of beats that their spectacled brother, Greg Burrows, on African drums brought to the stage. They twirled and pranced with feet tickling the floor as they smacked their thighs with heated palms. The audience answered by our hoops and hollars that fueled the playful competition between them. They finally closed with a bold barrage of footsteps, toe taps and drum beats that kept every member of the crowd on the edge and wanting more!


Next, our beloved pro-pork poet, Postmidnight of the duo the BodyPoets returned to the stage with his dancing compatriot Kazum, who donned a face mask. This time around both artists unveiled a more somber, though equally explosive, performance of dance, movement and words. Masked with a silver place across his face, the dancer fought with bodily exhaustion against, with and between the poetic bards of his lyrical brother. It was unique display of collaborative expressivities of dance and poetry.


Interspersed between these performances were the DJ_s blessed selections of soul, rock, hip hop, jazz, salsa, house and good music from music extraordinaires Ian Friday of the celebrated Tea Party events and Melting Pot_s own Kervyn Mark. The baby power and soaked bodies of the dancers attested to this even more. OEYes, yes, yes y_all we gotta make it hot in the melting pot! We gotta make it hot in the melting pot! We gotta make it hot in the melting pot! the crowd exclaimed with smiling faces on the dancefloor.


Princess TamTam
Diva Diaries
http://www.divadelight.freeservers.com/diva_delight_expression.htm


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