By Hailey Stangebye

Photos courtesy of Tripp Fontane

A bus ride changed Tripp Fontane’s life.

He was leaving Dayton and heading to a poetry workshop in Cincinnati. As he settled into his seat, the older man next to him struck up a conversation.

“He looked like he was maybe in his 70s. You know, the elevator didn’t necessarily go all the way to the top floor anymore. So he was drifting in and out of the conversation,” Tripp says.

The chatter started simply enough: Where are you from? Where are you going? What do you do? Tripp said that he was a poet, and, in a twist of fate, the older man said that he, too, was a poet. The man began to list names of artists he’d studied under and his friends in the industry.

“And then he just stops and looks off into space,” Tripp says. “And he said, ‘I want you to know something. We’re doing this wrong. We’re doing it wrong.’”

Tripp, a bit caught off guard, asked what he meant.

“As that man starts to pull it together, he said something that has stuck with me and it really changed my life. He said, ‘Art. We’re doing it wrong. Art is not a right. It is a necessity by virtue of the people. Art should not be seen as a luxury, but as, instead, one of the last spiritual languages that we have left.’ And that really shook me to my core,” Tripp says. “And I believe that. I believe that art is the translation of the cosmos.”

“He said, ‘Art. We’re doing it wrong. Art is not a right. It is a necessity by virtue of the people. Art should not be seen as a luxury, but as, instead, one of the last spiritual languages that we have left.’ And that really shook me to my core. And I believe that. I believe that art is the translation of the cosmos.”

Tripp’s artistic medium of choice is spoken-word poetry. But that wasn’t always the case. While he wrote his first poem in the fifth grade, he didn’t embrace it as his vocation until college. Originally, he focused primarily on rap.

“The music I was making wasn’t necessarily appealing because it wasn’t, sonically, what people wanted to hear,” Tripp says. “I don’t consider myself a conscious artists, per se, but my music has been pretty reflective of my life and the lives of those around me. That’s just not the music that was poppin’ at the time.”

His luck changed when he decided to go to an open mic. He watched a young lady perform a spoken-word poem and, while he was familiar with the medium, it wasn’t at the forefront of his mind at the time.

“When I saw her, it kind of all came crashing back, like, ‘Ah man, if I just do one of my songs without the beat, then they don’t really have a choice but to listen.’ So I did it, and people started calling me a poet, and I still haven’t corrected them.”

“When I saw her, it kind of all came crashing back, like, ‘Ah man, if I just do one of my songs without the beat, then they don’t really have a choice but to listen.’ So I did it, and people started calling me a poet, and I still haven’t corrected them.”

Today, Tripp is a big fish with international acclaim in the spoken-word community. In fact, he was recently commissioned to write a piece that he’ll perform next year in Cuba. He’s also one of only five Columbus artists who traveled to Harlem, New York as a part of the city-wide Harlem Renaissance campaign.

That reputation didn’t bloom overnight, though. It took years of practice and persistence to overcome each obstacle he encountered.

“I think one of the huge problems I had early on was just the lack of opportunity,” Tripp says. “Spoken word is still very much underground, as popular as it has been, as popular as its getting now, it’s still a very underground thing. Which I love.

“But, in Dayton, before I became the big fish, I couldn’t get anything. The few shows that there were, no one was trying to book me. And I was performing for free, so I use the term ‘book’ loosely. I was going to Cincinnati for free. I was driving up to Columbus for free. I was driving to Indy for free.”

The limited amount of opportunities in Dayton proved all the more challenging given Tripp’s personal circumstances.

“You get used to the odds being stacked against you. I think any impoverished person, often, is reduced to survival. You don’t necessarily have the luxury of looking down the road and planning long-term,” Tripp says. “You’re really worried about whether you’re going to get this next meal, whether the lights are gonna be on tomorrow, whether you’re going to be able to keep the fridge running and put food in it, you know what I mean? So, a lot of times, I would defeat myself before I ever tried because of my circumstances.”

“You’re really worried about whether you’re going to get this next meal, whether the lights are gonna be on tomorrow, whether you’re going to be able to keep the fridge running and put food in it, you know what I mean? So, a lot of times, I would defeat myself before I ever tried because of my circumstances.”

Despite the obstacles — or, perhaps, because of them — Tripp continued (and continues) to write poetry. That’s because he sees poetry, and art in general, as essential. His craft is not a luxury. It’s a force that reflects and changes the world.

Though he doesn’t tend to dwell on the past, Tripp says that he witnesses the similarities between the Harlem Renaissance 100 years ago and the cultural climate today. He posits that we’re currently in a Renaissance of our own.

“There’s this influx of art. Everybody is picking up a camera now. Everybody is a blogger, everybody is a vlogger, everybody is a writer, everybody is a poet. There is this push against what we are told we are supposed to be, and what we’re told we’re supposed to be doing and the path that we’re supposed to take,” Tripp says. “Every revolution, every cultural shift, every societal shift starts with art. Whether that’s an orator, whether that’s a painter, whether it’s a poet, whether it’s an engineer. Everything starts with art.”

Tripp channels this momentum of revolutionary change in his poems. Not just because the words are beautifully true, and not just because he’s talented, but because art is a necessity by virtue of the people.

Tripp’s poetry is one of the many signs that we’re in a Renaissance. He says that if we’re plugged into this reality and this moment, then we can take a movement and change the course of history.

Tripp Fontane’s Work

Thursday, July 26 at 5:30 p.m. on the Columbus Commons Stage

Photos by Kathryn D. Studios

The Momentum University dancers want to take you on a journey, with movements that transport you to another time and another place: Harlem in the ’20s.

Every year, Momentum University students put on a free, summer performance at the Columbus Commons. But Thursday’s presentation is unique. This year they’ve challenged their students to create a show that tells the story of the Harlem Renaissance.

“I think the key thing for this year is that they will be part of this larger, community-wide event,” Liane Egle, executive director of Momentum-Excellence, says. “For many of these kids, this will be their first exposure to this important historical time.”

This show is the product of an arts summer camp called “Momentum University.” For the past two weeks, a group of about 60 students participated in different types of dance and performing arts classes.

The students also had the chance to listen to speakers such as Larry James, Barbara Fant and Suzan Bradford Kounta. The students have taken all that they learned and created a unique performance.

At the end of the day, though, this show is about more than dance.

“Even though we’re a dance program, it’s really about using dance as a vehicle to impart life skills like self confidence and perseverance and discipline,” Liane says. “The goal is not to teach kids the dance steps. The goal is to help them feel better about themselves and have confidence. That’s what the program is all about.”

“The goal is not to teach kids the dance steps. The goal is to help them feel better about themselves and have confidence. That’s what the program is all about.”

Liane says that performances are an excellent time to witness the impact that this program has on the kids.

“It’s so powerful to see kids all doing the same choreography when they come from very different backgrounds,” Liane says. “Talking about it gives me chills. You see the smiles on their faces and the confidence and that pride.

“Our mantra with the kids is the big four: Work hard, do my best, never give up and be healthy. They know that if they work hard, then this is the result of that. And that’s something that transfers beyond just dancing on a stage. That’s a life lesson.”

The Momentum University performance takes place Thursday, July 26 at 5:30 p.m. on the Columbus Commons Stage. It is free and open to the public. Here is where you can find more information.