Ben Ortiz

“Laugh Riot:
Pushing the Borders of Performance Art”
By Benjamin Ortiz, for “Our Town” in the Chicago Reader
September 19, 1996

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“Fighting words: Checking in on the sass and spirit of the city’s open-mic battlegrounds
Hiss, grunt, snap—become well-versed”
By Benjamin Ortiz, Special to the Tribune
Section: On the Town
Date: April 4, 2008
Eternal poet laureate of Illinois Carl Sandburg said it from the jump of the 20th Century: My city can kick your city’s butt. Just listen to the rusting, hulking lilt of Sandburg’s “Chicago Poems” and you can hear a city set to brawl, a pugilist ready to hit the mark and make his name.

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“The new blood-soaked theatrics of that old-time religion splatter Benjamin Ortiz.”
A young Latin loco, sagging x-large, steps with attitude up to the local rock dealer. Recognizing his customer, the dopeman pulls a sack from his pocket and shakes it like a dinner bell. “My man, Joker,” he croons, “look what I saved for you special.” Joker strikes a defiant pose as his homeboy creeps up behind with a drawn shotgun. “Your crew blasted my boy the other night,” Joker snarls. “It’s payback time, punk!” BOO-YA!

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Lights dim, shimmer, fade, and revive – pulsing with breath as if to match the steadily roaring grumble of a capacity crowd at the Paramount Theatre in Austin, Texas. Showers of raucous catcalls pour from all walls in rivulets of rage, furor, and nail-biting tension. This 1,324-seater is sold out, and people are looking for blood like sharks who have inhaled fear, thundering like sports fans who taste a touchdown or a piledriver with hands clapping against the backs of chairs and shoes stomping on concrete. The auditorium could almost crack open and swallow itself from stage to balcony.

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