by Gaëtan L. Charlebois
I had been told by so many hard-core Fringers that if you have not seen a Jem Rolls show you have not lived. I am actually dissuaded by such hyperbole but this time I was assigned this venue and there was no avoiding the man and his latest work.
Simply, Jem Rolls - a performance poet - offers the kind of production that beggars the vocabulary. It is virtually impossible to do justice to both performer and text. Suffice it to say that ten minutes in I put away my notebook and was like a child - sitting forward in my seat utterly hypnotized as if I was five again and listening to one of my siblings tell me a particularly wondrous tale that I would insist on again and again.
I felt both assaulted and charmed by a fearless performer who pours his words over you - in poems, descriptions, interactions - to a blissful drowning by both poet and spectator.
I'll stop now. I want to remember.