Jason Eisenberg; photos by George Wallace & Casey Cyr BIG SUR MARATHON
New York-San Francisco-Lowell-Orlando
Report from the Northport, NY Front 7/22/01I never played a police station before; it will no doubt enhance my résumé considerably. More accurate: it was the Northport District Courthouse attached to the Police Station in this cozy downtown Main Street village.
George Wallace seems to have sewn up all the good gigs in town. As Grand Curator of the Northport Historical Society he only had to cross the street to enter the Courthouse which, as Creator/Producer of the BIG SUR MARATHON MULTI-CITY TRIBUTE, he had transformed into a Poetry Zone that played out its potential TO THE HILT via the 38 or so savants who breathed new life into Kerouac's "mature" novel, Big Sur.
Co-chairs of the event were the indefatigable David Amram and the indomitable Carolyn Cassady. David, classical and jazz composer extraordinaire, friend and co-conspirator with Kerouac, was the event's all-around-sage. With his inimitable panache, his jazz trio (David--piano/flutes, Kevin Twigg--drums, John DeWit--bass) backed up the readers, nailing it to the wall with 100% goodwill, soul and joy of living. Carolyn--artist, author and wife of Neal Cassady, was at once gracious, blunt and FUNNY. Her inaugural presentation at the Courthouse, describing life with Neal and Jack was matter-of-fact, illuminating and interrupted twice by earsplitting wailing firetruck sirens--the fire department was next door to the venue. Carolyn evinced a mind to blow her top, simmered to a boil, and continued to regale the audience in a voice like honey drippin' off the vine till the sirens shrilled yet again. John Cassady, Carolyn and Neal's son, was in excellent spirits throughout the entire event and carried on tirelessly, giving some solid and crazy readings and commentary likewise loaded with anecdotes mined from deep within the cat's DNA.
At this point, the reading began, chapter by chapter, flavored by a 38-odd-ring circus of men, women and beasts. They built a crazy Tower of Bebop that burned its way through the Courthouse wall and into the Police Station next door. From there it ricocheted to Lowell, Orlando and San Francisco and all points in between.
That night, Monsenior Amram put on a free concert at a beautiful outdoor stage in Huntington, where he assembled the most with-it quartet imaginable. David laid down a long gorgeous solo on his horn that was the livin' end. Carolyn (here comes that honey-dipped voice again), John, George, Adira Amram and John Ventimiglia read excerpts from Kerouac's works with David's quartet behind them and, with the best sound system in recent memory, blew everyone onto Cloud 9. We then repaired to Wallace Palace to party till the twelfth of never. Producer George was the consummate host, Master of Ceremonies and genitalman throughout. He and hostess-with-the-mostess Peggy flung open the gates of their home to a civilized but demanding herd of fellow revelers who carved their initials in the sands of Time. I swear that party's still goin' on in the hearts and minds of all the studs and kitties who came out to celebrate Kerouac's WORD.
*Editors note: hold mouse over photos for captions.
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