Ìṣípayá: Revelations in Yoruba Verse

Walkabout Events: What inspired the name Ìṣípayá, and how will the theme of "revelation" unfold through specific poems or stories during the performance?

Aremo Gemini: Ìṣípayá, which translates to “Revelation”, was an apt choice of naming, particularly because of the thematic structure that my works have always followed, in which this performance project is nothing short of. I believe that we can never have too much work on social consciousness and human conditioning. For “Ìṣípayá”, it's a twelve-poem run, carefully curated to revolve around relatable yet often lightly discussed issues that contend with the human spirit, from love to mental health to even graver topics like the intersection of the afterlife, among others. Revealing is one thing; what is done with what has been revealed is something else entirely. With the structuring of the poems and ambient sounds, I have no doubt that a revelatory night is certain. When the night is over, I know that there will be something for everyone to sit with and reflect on. Even for myself, as the artist, I do not dispute the possibility of encountering a new revelation during the performance. There is always an avenue to learn, unlearn and relearn. 

WE: What makes this night "immersive" for the audience - will there be audience interaction, visuals, live music, or other sensory elements?

AG: Immersive, for ÌṢÍPAYÁ, means the audience is entering a fully constructed sonic and emotional environment. The performance is built on a continuous digital soundscape created by Goodluck Babatunde Olorunjedalo (an exceptional experimental sound artist), specifically for the night, as atmosphere and architecture. Alongside that, Olorunjedalo will perform a live percussive soundscape that interacts with the poetry in real time. The poems largely move through the soundscape. The rhythm, silence, tension, and release are designed as one experience. The audience is not just listening to poetry. They are surrounded by sound, pacing, and energy that shift as the narrative unfolds.

WE: Who's the ideal attendee beyond poetry lovers: for example, how might it appeal to birdwatchers, festival-goers, or those into Afrobeats and heritage?

AG: ÌṢÍPAYÁ is not only for poetry lovers. I have been, in the last few years, loud in my stance for the need for poetry gatherings that go beyond having poets and poetry lovers as the audience. I want to see cultural custodians, elders, teachers, misfits, et al in the room. The performance is for anyone who responds to rhythm, atmosphere, and culture. If you enjoy sound art, festivals that value intimacy, Afrobeats’ percussive pulse, heritage that evolves, or the quiet patience of observation, you will find something here. My intention is beyond selling poetry; it is offering a designer sensory experience rooted in identity. The same patience, observation and attention to subtle moments required for birdwatching is what ÌṢÍPAYÁ asks for. If you enjoy sitting still long enough to witness something rare, you'll understand the essence of that night. 

WE: What's the runtime and structure of the evening—sets, breaks, or open mic opportunities—and any tips for first-timers?

AG: ÌṢÍPAYÁ begins with a 30-minute pre-show experience. This is an intentional space for guests to arrive, connect, settle in, and ease into the atmosphere before the performance begins. The performance itself runs for approximately 90 minutes. There are twelve poems arranged in two movements. The first six poems form the opening set. After the sixth poem, there is a brief intentional pause (albeit with the sound on) to recalibrate before the second movement resumes and carries us through to the final piece. It is also noteworthy that there is no open mic segment. This is a curated, composed experience built as a cohesive arc. After the performance concludes, there will be time for audience conversation and reflection. 

For first-timers: arrive early to fully experience the pre-show atmosphere. I'm particularly keen on punctuality, so there's no such thing as “African time” at my session. Come fully prepared to be present. As silence, sound, and pacing are part of the design, it is advisable to settle in early, keep your phone on DND, minimise chitchat and allow yourself to move with the journey rather than rush it. 

WE: Since it's open to all ages, how does the content stay accessible yet profound for families, kids, or newcomers to Yorùbá culture?

AG: I understand that a work that boasts of profundity does not exclude the people that matter. Hence, ÌṢÍPAYÁ is designed to be layered. Children will connect with the rhythm and soundscape. Families can engage through storytelling and shared atmosphere. Newcomers to Yorùbá culture will feel the emotional arc even when certain words are new. Those familiar with the language and tradition will recognise deeper layers within the work. The experience does not dilute its roots, but it remains open in how it invites people in. The performance project is structured so that explicit tones are not applied, making it a safe immersion across ages. 

WE: What should people come away with—a lingering phrase, emotion, or insight—and any post-event chats or ways to engage further?

AG: The night of Ìṣípayá is merely a beginning. It is not the absolute end. In fact, I do not see any end in view. Hence, people are bound to leave with more than a line or emotion. There is the undeniable place of heightened sensitivity to language, and there is the crucial place of a reformed self. A shift in perspective toward certain sensitive conversations without allowing biases or sentiment to override one's truth. Culture, for me, is not merely decorative. I need that renewed respect to be established. As initially stated, after the final poem, there will be space for audience reflections and dialogue. The conversation is part of the experience. It allows the night to expand beyond performance into shared thought. 

WE: Can you share a preview of one key Yorùbá oral art tradition or musical element that audiences will encounter, and how it blends with contemporary poetry?

AG: One of the key oral traditions woven into ÌṢÍPAYÁ is the cadence and structure of Ifá verse. Certain moments in the performance draw from the tonal patterns and philosophical density of Ifá recitations. Not as a literal ritual enactment, but as a literary influence. Ifá verse is built on rhythm, repetition, metaphor, and layered meaning. That structure blends naturally with contemporary poetry. In the performance, the traditional cadence meets modern language and experimental sound design. The result feels both ancient and immediate. 

WE: How does the show explore memory, identity, or social consciousness—perhaps through personal anecdotes or cultural references from your own life?

AG: I believe that reckoning, when done through art, is far more powerful than argument. Hence, Ìṣípayá is not just a performance project; it is reckoning. In this project, social consciousness is not necessarily activism slogans. It is asking what kind of people we are becoming and who we have been taught to be. The poems interrogate power, silence, gender, belonging, and the tension between cultural pride and cultural responsibility. Instead of preaching or spoon-feeding moral lessons, the performance invites the audience to confront what we inherit, what we repeat, and what we must evolve. 

Over the years, my work has consistently held space for women’s stories; the overlooked, the silenced, the misrepresented. ÌṢÍPAYÁ continues that commitment. Some poems emerge directly from observations of women’s experiences, some from inherited stories of resilience and struggle, and some from the cultural gaps and injustices I have witnessed. By embedding women’s narratives into the broader exploration of memory and identity, the show situates their experiences at the heart of social consciousness. For me, this has been consistent as an artist: art must not turn away from injustice. Women’s stories are inseparable from the stories of our collective memory. To witness ÌṢÍPAYÁ is to recognise that the personal is political, the intimate is societal, and the silenced can find voice in spaces they are often denied.