Cecilia Corrigan, the poet, comedian, and screenwriter, changed halfway through her book launch. After the early reception, reading, sing-along, and stand-up comedy routine, she rustled out of a red cocktail dress into one a few shades lighter, about the color of her book’s cover. In that dress, now strapless, she danced to DJ Juiceboxxx until Artists Space ceased to host the crowd.
The evening, one night last week, was novel—as is Cecilia. As a poet, she’s sci-fly. Standing up, she can do a Dick Cavett and a smarter Amy Schumer. “I’m short so my sexuality is non-threatening,” she quipped in seven-inch stilettos on stage at Artists Space. She balanced in those shoes (“fuck-me heels,” to quote Mom) all night.
Titanic is Cecilia's first full-length book, “a tragic love story of our time and all time, taking on the eternal struggle of inter-sentient romance.” Its protagonist is Alan Turing, cracker of the Nazis’ Enigma Code. His lover is artificially intelligent, perhaps his own creation. The book, like Cecilia’s live performances, puppets various lingo, from talk shows and soap operas (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) to medical science and iMessage.
Opening Ceremony chatted with Ms. Corrigan the day after her launch, and talked the after-party, the book, and what’s up with poetry being so popular.
FIONA DUNCAN: How would you describe your physical state today? What I'm getting at is: how was the after-party? Did you after-after-party?
CECILIA CORRIGAN: I feel happy, drowsy, a little confused. I have one of those deceptively gentle hangovers, where there's a certain amount of numbness behind my eyes but no fiery hangover. I got really sweaty dancing to Juiceboxxx's insane rave remixes of 2003 radio hits, so I think I detoxed to retox at that point during the night.
At your launch, I kept thinking you're like the Jim Henson of poets. Clearly, you're dirtier and womanlier and more alive than Henson, but you are a puppeteer. The way you do stand-up I feel like I'm watching you with your own hand in your mouth, manipulating your face to perform words somehow a part of and apart from you.
Oh my god, thank you. What a lovely thing to say. Jim Henson was a genius. D’you know what's funny, actually? I did a show last week in Philly with Felix Bernstein and Gabe Hoot, and we were saying the dynamic was kind of like when the Muppets had a celebrity guest, like Madeline Kahn or whoever, because they kept singing over me, asking me sort of tone-deaf but enthusiastic questions, and I was sort of game but nonplussed. I like this idea of distance between my words and body. I do feel like I'm kind of detached from my body on stage, like I'm floating above it. I think that stand-up comedy is the most terrifying and violent type of performance. When you're monologuing, it's totally Coliseum style; you're at the mercy of the crowd.
I also kept thinking about pop metaphors, like "clear the air" or "get in front of the train" (both phrases you voiced). These are phrases so common, it's common to forget they are poetic, but put in the context of your reading, I was like yes. What are some of your favorite pop metaphors?
Yeah! Common language is fascinating to me. I think there's a lot of free flowing appropriation going on, especially “on the Internet.” I'd love it if everyone thought of “That's gotta hurt!” as my catchphrase—that one really takes the cake.
Could you explain who Alan Turing
The evening, one night last week, was novel—as is Cecilia. As a poet, she’s sci-fly. Standing up, she can do a Dick Cavett and a smarter Amy Schumer. “I’m short so my sexuality is non-threatening,” she quipped in seven-inch stilettos on stage at Artists Space. She balanced in those shoes (“fuck-me heels,” to quote Mom) all night.
Titanic is Cecilia's first full-length book, “a tragic love story of our time and all time, taking on the eternal struggle of inter-sentient romance.” Its protagonist is Alan Turing, cracker of the Nazis’ Enigma Code. His lover is artificially intelligent, perhaps his own creation. The book, like Cecilia’s live performances, puppets various lingo, from talk shows and soap operas (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) to medical science and iMessage.
Opening Ceremony chatted with Ms. Corrigan the day after her launch, and talked the after-party, the book, and what’s up with poetry being so popular.
FIONA DUNCAN: How would you describe your physical state today? What I'm getting at is: how was the after-party? Did you after-after-party?
CECILIA CORRIGAN: I feel happy, drowsy, a little confused. I have one of those deceptively gentle hangovers, where there's a certain amount of numbness behind my eyes but no fiery hangover. I got really sweaty dancing to Juiceboxxx's insane rave remixes of 2003 radio hits, so I think I detoxed to retox at that point during the night.
At your launch, I kept thinking you're like the Jim Henson of poets. Clearly, you're dirtier and womanlier and more alive than Henson, but you are a puppeteer. The way you do stand-up I feel like I'm watching you with your own hand in your mouth, manipulating your face to perform words somehow a part of and apart from you.
Oh my god, thank you. What a lovely thing to say. Jim Henson was a genius. D’you know what's funny, actually? I did a show last week in Philly with Felix Bernstein and Gabe Hoot, and we were saying the dynamic was kind of like when the Muppets had a celebrity guest, like Madeline Kahn or whoever, because they kept singing over me, asking me sort of tone-deaf but enthusiastic questions, and I was sort of game but nonplussed. I like this idea of distance between my words and body. I do feel like I'm kind of detached from my body on stage, like I'm floating above it. I think that stand-up comedy is the most terrifying and violent type of performance. When you're monologuing, it's totally Coliseum style; you're at the mercy of the crowd.
I also kept thinking about pop metaphors, like "clear the air" or "get in front of the train" (both phrases you voiced). These are phrases so common, it's common to forget they are poetic, but put in the context of your reading, I was like yes. What are some of your favorite pop metaphors?
Yeah! Common language is fascinating to me. I think there's a lot of free flowing appropriation going on, especially “on the Internet.” I'd love it if everyone thought of “That's gotta hurt!” as my catchphrase—that one really takes the cake.
Could you explain who Alan Turing