n July 1999, fabled fantasist and critic Samuel R. Delany staged a long public reading from several of his recent books at Judson Church in New York City. That occasion was captured on tape, and now, after much creative editing, is available to those who did not have the good fortune to be present that night. Spliced into the performance at regular intervals are informative excerpts from a conversation conducted with Delany in his home a few months afterward, resulting in a total show some 80 minutes in length.
The film opens with Delany introducing himself and his work. The first reading comes from Delany's autobiography, The Motion of Light in Water (1988), and consists of two separated but thematically linked passages. The initial text concerns Delany's youthful experiences at a summer camp specializing in theatrical productions and music. The second passage narrates Delany's secret teen-age visit to a drag revue at Harlem's Apollo Theater, and its hidden connection to the earlier incidents.
After hearing Delany speak to an offstage interviewer about other details of his youth, the viewer is next treated to some text from "Atlantis: Model 1924," a portion of the book Atlantis: Three Tales (1995). This story concerns re-imagined family history, specifically the youth of Delany's own father, raised in a rural environment but transplanted to New York, where he would grow up to own a prosperous funeral home. In the passages selected, Delany's father learns lessons about his friends, his race and the culture at large.
Bread and Wine (1999) is a graphic novel (illustrated by Mia Wolff) focusing on the start of Delany's ongoing partnership with a man he initially comes to know only as a homeless soul named Dennis. Delany wisely chooses not to try to convey the pictorial elements of this work, but reads from its afterword, a roundtable discussion among the principals of the book.
The final interview segment is followed by the "X-rated" portion of the show: from Times Square Red, Times Square Blue (1999) Delany selects a mini-tale about bringing a straight female friend into one of the porno theaters of Times Square, where open sexual encounters, mostly between men, occur. Lastly, as an encore, Delany lets the voice of one of the characters from his "transgressive" novel, The Mad Man (1994), reign, as the bawdy street person in question gives his classification of humanity into two camps.
SF's bard on sex, race and more
What wouldn't we give to have a tape of H.G. Wells reading from his Experiment in Autobiography (1934), or an audiovisual record of Robert Heinlein talking about editor John Campbell, or another of Hugo Gernsback revealing his inspiration to create "scientifiction?" Unfortunately, such pre-video treasures are impossible to recreate, and we should be grateful that currently such dedicated cinematographers as director Eric Solstein are around to capture events like Delany's Judson Church performance, and that Voyant publisher Gil Roth has stepped forward to market the results.
Evaluation of this ambitious, accomplished project orbits around two poles: the production values and design, and the material itself, its nature and presentation.
Concerning the former, not enough good things can be said. Thanks to the employment of three cameras (helmed by Solstein, Steven Gross and Andrew Ramsammy), the visual interest is sustained at a high level. Close-ups of Delany's charmingly avuncular physiognomy alternate with longer shots of the author, the church and the audience. Subtle dissolves and wipes (courtesy of editor Benton Bainbridge) complement some limited but effective SFX (superimposures, slo-mo). The lighting is a heavenly golden wash, quite appropriate for the churchly setting, and the sound (by Gross) is impeccable, including audience reactions that do not overwhelm the speech. The overall result: a captivating, easy-on-the-eyes, fast-moving show.
For those like myself who have seen Delany read numerous times, the recreation of his assured stage presence and delivery are awesome. Truly, this tape is the next best thing to attending one of Delany's masterful readings. As for the material chosen—Delany mentions a tenuous but real thread of urban existence—a better mix would be hard to imagine. (Of course, dedicated fans of Delany's SF will regret the absence of anything from his classic books.) By my account, this evening's readings touch upon at least the following topics and themes: the bewilderment of youth, the growth of maturity, race, sex, religion, commerce, friendship, rural existence vs. metropolitan life, homelessness and middle class privilege, the role of the artist as outlaw, high art vs. pop art, the influence of family life, underclass resentments against bosses, and the artifice of esthetics. It would be hard to imagine cramming more into a single evening while still retaining the pure joy of narrative as well.
And of course all of this good stuff is delivered live in Delany's resonant voice, no rehearsals, no second takes. That's putting your art on the line!
