Ledbury Poetry Festival's last day.
A rural morning for me exploring parts of the old Hereford and Gloucester canal around Ashperton
Yarkhill, Canon Frome and Munsley villages. Wherever there is a road there has to be a bridge to carry it over the canal. Some great images to be reflected upon later.
My only poetry appointment of today was for Joey Connolly. He is one of the young poets in residence for this year. He has had poems appear regularly in magazines including PN Review, Magma and The Rialto. He edits a poetry magazine, Kaffeeklatsch, and he is currently working on his first collection.
He had been allowed just twenty minutes in The Shell House Gallery and all the seats were taken with about ten others sitting outside the open door in the garden. He was intently listened to and there was ample applause. After all the people I had heard speak he was the youngest and I wanted to listen to his voice and what he had to say. Merely to see what difference there was if any. I would like to see a hard copy of his work but that will have to be for a later time.
What a great festival this has been with everything very well stewarded, compered and hosted. However I do have one major criticism in that only a small part of the town seemed to be involved. It was obvious there was a festival going on in Church Lane with the bunting and cosy chairs on view, but in The Homend and High Street there was very little to see of that nature. In my opinion you should have everyone in 'the know' and to try and make them feel part of it. After all this is a major event in the literary world although not on the same scale as Cheltenham or Hay. Anyway I like it small and Ledbury is beautiful and friendly. I did enjoy every day.
Sunday, 13 July 2014
Ledbury's Thirteenth Poetry Slam
Ledbury's Thirteenth Poetry Slam.
What a stormer this evening was! I had not intended to go to it but I went even knowing that it was a sell out, but who knows. As I walked up to the Market Theatre I saw a man in a top hat with something yellow in his hand. He was said that he was too nervous to eat a meal but needed to eat something. It's amazing how bright and yellow bananas actually are. The man in the tatty hat was Marcus Moore the co-conspirator with Sara-jane Arbury who run these slams together and it was fortunate that I spoke to him. He said I have a plan. I will get you in and so it was that I was chosen to have a very special seat with another lucky chap to sit on the stage just behind the performers to give a mark which reflected the audience's appreciation. In plain language how much clapping, hooting, hollering and whistling issued forth from the packed auditorium or even more simply how much bloody noise they made.
I take my hat (and Marcus's titfer too) to all the performers. They were all good, some were better and some were outstanding. As an event and as pure entertainment with audience participation I think that it was the best I have seen for a long time. Excellent it all was and I didn't have to pay. So you can say it does not pay to plan too far ahead.
.
What a stormer this evening was! I had not intended to go to it but I went even knowing that it was a sell out, but who knows. As I walked up to the Market Theatre I saw a man in a top hat with something yellow in his hand. He was said that he was too nervous to eat a meal but needed to eat something. It's amazing how bright and yellow bananas actually are. The man in the tatty hat was Marcus Moore the co-conspirator with Sara-jane Arbury who run these slams together and it was fortunate that I spoke to him. He said I have a plan. I will get you in and so it was that I was chosen to have a very special seat with another lucky chap to sit on the stage just behind the performers to give a mark which reflected the audience's appreciation. In plain language how much clapping, hooting, hollering and whistling issued forth from the packed auditorium or even more simply how much bloody noise they made.
I take my hat (and Marcus's titfer too) to all the performers. They were all good, some were better and some were outstanding. As an event and as pure entertainment with audience participation I think that it was the best I have seen for a long time. Excellent it all was and I didn't have to pay. So you can say it does not pay to plan too far ahead.
.
Friday, 11 July 2014
Pushing the Edges
PUSHING THE EDGES with Brenda Hillman.
This workshop appealed to me as soon as I saw it even though it was only two hours in duration. Conformity can be great but there are many times when it is good to do something that different, 'outside the norm', or even 'way out'. Brenda brought enough with her for many hours of study and which gave opportunity for serious thinking. (I think for all of us).
Her idea was that we all bring a poem that we have been working on recently in a form that we don't usually write in. I read 'Smithy Wood' which our writing group have scrutinised but is still a work in progress. I chose this one as it concerns both the environment and protest, and rhyme that is not something that I am ever that comfortable with. After this morning it may have to take on a different shape and form but I need to reflect more on all of it.
I made notes on the purpose of the morning and with things to reflect upon:-
Ecological and spiritual
Exploring form and diction
Step outside usual expectations
Leave that safe place
Spiritual life not reflected in poetry
Wild as you can be in your writing
Listen to the sounds - reflect the world
Go to the edge of sense and still make sense
Put sounds in there - John Clare and his Nightingale
Syntax in your writing is your own syntax
You do not have to be normal because you are not
Don't tidy it up - put fragments in
Chatter-box voices
What sounds good - let it be.
She gave us poems, to read and discuss, of John Clare, Barbara Guest, Robin Clarke, Robert Duncan, Gennadi Aygi and if that wasn't enough the crazy shaped 'I lash out against form' by Elizabeth Guthrie. This one was followed by 'Michaelmas' by Veronica Forrest-Thompson which did intrigue me with its mixture of old, middle and modern English which was read by a fellow work-shopper who could read the old stuff. All so interesting and fascinating.
In summary I found these two hours well spent, in good company, and with an excellent facilitator. Lots to ponder on.
This workshop appealed to me as soon as I saw it even though it was only two hours in duration. Conformity can be great but there are many times when it is good to do something that different, 'outside the norm', or even 'way out'. Brenda brought enough with her for many hours of study and which gave opportunity for serious thinking. (I think for all of us).
Her idea was that we all bring a poem that we have been working on recently in a form that we don't usually write in. I read 'Smithy Wood' which our writing group have scrutinised but is still a work in progress. I chose this one as it concerns both the environment and protest, and rhyme that is not something that I am ever that comfortable with. After this morning it may have to take on a different shape and form but I need to reflect more on all of it.
I made notes on the purpose of the morning and with things to reflect upon:-
Ecological and spiritual
Exploring form and diction
Step outside usual expectations
Leave that safe place
Spiritual life not reflected in poetry
Wild as you can be in your writing
Listen to the sounds - reflect the world
Go to the edge of sense and still make sense
Put sounds in there - John Clare and his Nightingale
Syntax in your writing is your own syntax
You do not have to be normal because you are not
Don't tidy it up - put fragments in
Chatter-box voices
What sounds good - let it be.
She gave us poems, to read and discuss, of John Clare, Barbara Guest, Robin Clarke, Robert Duncan, Gennadi Aygi and if that wasn't enough the crazy shaped 'I lash out against form' by Elizabeth Guthrie. This one was followed by 'Michaelmas' by Veronica Forrest-Thompson which did intrigue me with its mixture of old, middle and modern English which was read by a fellow work-shopper who could read the old stuff. All so interesting and fascinating.
In summary I found these two hours well spent, in good company, and with an excellent facilitator. Lots to ponder on.
Thursday, 10 July 2014
Hereford & Gloucester Canal
THURSDAY 10th JULY.
This morning was how summer should be. An almost cloudless sky with only a hint of a breeze. On the patio I actually 'caught up with myself', as the saying goes. I was able to reflect on what had gone before and plan my next days. I only had intended to go to an open mic in Ledbury as the itinerary was having a quiet day! For the open mic I called into Seven Stars and left without even thinking of reading anything. It was lifeless. No bloody humour at all and then this really was a tale of two microphones that bemused the holders. They should have given up. I suppose the benefit was that some of it I could not hear! It was that bad even before we had three poems on suicides. Hmm. Murder was on my mind and so I left. The best part of that evening was the cup of tea and a 'ginger nut' when I got back. Enough said - bless them. After all it was a first as I have never walked out of an open mic.
The afternoon was taken up with exploring some remaining parts of the Herefordshire and Gloucester Canal, now owned by a trust of the same name with the ultimate object of re opening all 34 miles of it. They have 30 miles still to renovate. I was able to walk a part of the towpath from near Newent towards the Oxenhall Tunnel that goes under the M50. There was water in all of it on this stretch although the banks were covered with vegetation and in some places it had been over grown completely. This is such a good place for butterflies as the wild brambles, purple loosestrife and many others were in bloom. Jackdaws were congregating on a barb wire fence and being raucous. A slim Grey Heron flew away on my approach and fish swam in the shallows. A great stroll amongst the peaceful farmland.
My next stroll was planned for where the canal had been but was in the main filled in although the route through the orchards was obvious. I negotiated a very overgrown part before coming to the orchard. Apart from a walk there was very little to see so I turned about and enjoyed a pint and a meal in The Oak at Staplow. Another good day for me. I have already made notes as I intend to get as much writing material out of this week and the canal is very much in my mind. I already have a poem sketched out from two days ago.
This morning was how summer should be. An almost cloudless sky with only a hint of a breeze. On the patio I actually 'caught up with myself', as the saying goes. I was able to reflect on what had gone before and plan my next days. I only had intended to go to an open mic in Ledbury as the itinerary was having a quiet day! For the open mic I called into Seven Stars and left without even thinking of reading anything. It was lifeless. No bloody humour at all and then this really was a tale of two microphones that bemused the holders. They should have given up. I suppose the benefit was that some of it I could not hear! It was that bad even before we had three poems on suicides. Hmm. Murder was on my mind and so I left. The best part of that evening was the cup of tea and a 'ginger nut' when I got back. Enough said - bless them. After all it was a first as I have never walked out of an open mic.
The afternoon was taken up with exploring some remaining parts of the Herefordshire and Gloucester Canal, now owned by a trust of the same name with the ultimate object of re opening all 34 miles of it. They have 30 miles still to renovate. I was able to walk a part of the towpath from near Newent towards the Oxenhall Tunnel that goes under the M50. There was water in all of it on this stretch although the banks were covered with vegetation and in some places it had been over grown completely. This is such a good place for butterflies as the wild brambles, purple loosestrife and many others were in bloom. Jackdaws were congregating on a barb wire fence and being raucous. A slim Grey Heron flew away on my approach and fish swam in the shallows. A great stroll amongst the peaceful farmland.
My next stroll was planned for where the canal had been but was in the main filled in although the route through the orchards was obvious. I negotiated a very overgrown part before coming to the orchard. Apart from a walk there was very little to see so I turned about and enjoyed a pint and a meal in The Oak at Staplow. Another good day for me. I have already made notes as I intend to get as much writing material out of this week and the canal is very much in my mind. I already have a poem sketched out from two days ago.
Wednesday, 9 July 2014
Ode with Robert Hass
Rounding up today - Wednesday 9th July - with Robert Hass in workshop for the Ode. I had never come across this name before but he is well known and he comes with a pedigree in writing. To say that this was actually 'a workshop' is stretching a point as it was only two hours from 2pm to 4pm, but we did cover a lot.
Pablo Neruda wrote odes to watermelons, typography and cats. It would seem that a poem of praise is something between a celebration and a prayer, an ancient impulse to get in the right relation to forms of creativity and benign forms of power. This notion was to be explored through conversation and in writing exercises with our Poet in Residence. Anyway, that is what the Festival said they hoped to achieve.
We had a good discussion on as much as we could cover and I would have preferred to spend much more timed with him. We ranged from Gerald Manley Hopkins, Alice Oswald, Pablo Neruda and Frank O'Hara. Neruda's Ode to an Onion was a strange one to at least one person although I thought that it could be considered quite odd, I liked and thought it had merit.
With all of his input, questions and discussion there was hardly any time for writing, but he asked to write a list of four or five items and then with time running out to enlarge on one of them.
I wrote these few lines:-
An old garden gate, swollen with recent rain is wedged tight
requiring that extra shove to allow me into that other place.
I feel where hands have smoothed the touching point
made smoother by more hands but where the grain is both proud and
indented these mini-corrugations note the passing of all of us.
I have other notes to work on later, but it was so short a time. Yes, I did get from it many ideas and thoughts to pursue.
The crux for me was simply not enough time, but was this a sampler for 2015 where more time will be allowed? Maybe four hours and maybe three mornings of four hours each or even a whole day. I think that the committee need to think about this. However, was it worthwhile for me? Yes and I took away certain things to consider.
Robert Hass is a 'gent' and a very knowledgeable one too. I enjoyed it immensely and it was so good being again with like minded people.
Pablo Neruda wrote odes to watermelons, typography and cats. It would seem that a poem of praise is something between a celebration and a prayer, an ancient impulse to get in the right relation to forms of creativity and benign forms of power. This notion was to be explored through conversation and in writing exercises with our Poet in Residence. Anyway, that is what the Festival said they hoped to achieve.
We had a good discussion on as much as we could cover and I would have preferred to spend much more timed with him. We ranged from Gerald Manley Hopkins, Alice Oswald, Pablo Neruda and Frank O'Hara. Neruda's Ode to an Onion was a strange one to at least one person although I thought that it could be considered quite odd, I liked and thought it had merit.
With all of his input, questions and discussion there was hardly any time for writing, but he asked to write a list of four or five items and then with time running out to enlarge on one of them.
I wrote these few lines:-
An old garden gate, swollen with recent rain is wedged tight
requiring that extra shove to allow me into that other place.
I feel where hands have smoothed the touching point
made smoother by more hands but where the grain is both proud and
indented these mini-corrugations note the passing of all of us.
I have other notes to work on later, but it was so short a time. Yes, I did get from it many ideas and thoughts to pursue.
The crux for me was simply not enough time, but was this a sampler for 2015 where more time will be allowed? Maybe four hours and maybe three mornings of four hours each or even a whole day. I think that the committee need to think about this. However, was it worthwhile for me? Yes and I took away certain things to consider.
Robert Hass is a 'gent' and a very knowledgeable one too. I enjoyed it immensely and it was so good being again with like minded people.
Tuesday, 8 July 2014
Tuesday
A different day today. A long over due walk around the Iron Age Hill Fort at Credenhill just outside Hereford and managed by the Woodland Trust. Birdsong but scarce views of anything except four species of butterfly including a Red Admiral, a recently emerged Small Tortoiseshell, Ringlets and (probably) a Wood White.
I am researching and walking some of the old Hereford and Gloucester Canal and when photographing a bridge near Ashperton the farmer stopped and said with the humour of a countryman 'are you looking for a boat?' I think that this might be the first line of something later.
I went in search of Yellow Hammers and found a cock bird perched and singing in Watery Lane at Yarkhill. A fantastic view - clear as a bell! This was one of my two target birds for this trip, the other one being a Bullfinch which I achieved when a hen bird flew across Common Road at Tarrington last Saturday morning. An extra bonus was when a Raven flew overhead when at the Village Fete.
Now in the Horseshoe Inn having a few spare minutes with a pint of Wye Valley HPA before an hour of poetry translation. That should stretch the mind. A full report will follow.
I am researching and walking some of the old Hereford and Gloucester Canal and when photographing a bridge near Ashperton the farmer stopped and said with the humour of a countryman 'are you looking for a boat?' I think that this might be the first line of something later.
I went in search of Yellow Hammers and found a cock bird perched and singing in Watery Lane at Yarkhill. A fantastic view - clear as a bell! This was one of my two target birds for this trip, the other one being a Bullfinch which I achieved when a hen bird flew across Common Road at Tarrington last Saturday morning. An extra bonus was when a Raven flew overhead when at the Village Fete.
Now in the Horseshoe Inn having a few spare minutes with a pint of Wye Valley HPA before an hour of poetry translation. That should stretch the mind. A full report will follow.
Monday, 7 July 2014
Protest Poetry
A morning of 'Protest Poetry' in the Burgage Hall in Church Lane and again I am surrounded my history. If you have never been to Ledbury then you should visit.
The morning was delivered by Joy Roderick on the poetry of Wilfred Owen, W.H. Auden and with the Caribbean immigrant influence of Grace Nichols and John Agard which did mean that we ranged from the second decade of the 1900's, through the 1930's and into the '70's and '80's with the two latter poets.
The hall was full with four people grouped around each of the eight tables in a position to discuss, comment upon and offer opinions on the poem before them. We started with Joy reading Owen's 'Dulce et Decorum Est'. I had read this one before without realizing its true worth. There were poetical aware people who were able to contribute in the analysis of this piece of work and I was surprised how much had gone into the construction of it. We asked how much of it was written when he was on the 'Western Front' and how much had been influenced by Siegfried Sassoon when both were in Craiglockhert Hospital?
We were asked to question the effect it had, what the meaning was, to examine the schemes involved and in what the context was. There was very valid points made with the comment that this was 'a back-to-back' sonnet. Interesting to anyone with a leaning towards poetics.
Moving on we read 'Stop the Clocks' by W.H. Auden. The history is interesting in that he kept the first two verses and re-wrote the second two to turn it into a 'love poem'. I have heard it read at funerals, it figured in the film 'Four Weddings and a Funeral', it has been re-titled 'Funeral Blues' and was original written for another film. The view around the table was ' no, not really' - we didn't like it. However don't let me put you off reading this man as there to him that meets the eye - nudge-nudge, wink-wink.
We covered much ground in two hours and then we came to a different sort of protest with Grace Nichols and 'The Fat Black Woman Goes Shopping'. How can anyone not read it with that title at the top of the page? Her second one 'Wherever I Hang' is equally intriguing when she ends up by telling us where she hangs her knickers!
Her husband, John Agard, followed with 'Listen Mr Oxford Don' which you can listen to on-line.
We examined it and for me it was not a protest about how to speak - properly or otherwise - but about racism and classism. I agree with the man, speak how you like and protest about any reasonable injustice.
I had a great morning looking in some depth into some serious writing in a fairly formal setting but with tutorial control. It, and myself achieved our objectives. Then I sat and wrote this with pint of Pardoes, ham, egg and chips followed by strawberry and apple crumble with ice cream. It was such a good way to spend part of a wet afternoon.
And, I am on radio wildfire tonight just tune into the net.
-
The morning was delivered by Joy Roderick on the poetry of Wilfred Owen, W.H. Auden and with the Caribbean immigrant influence of Grace Nichols and John Agard which did mean that we ranged from the second decade of the 1900's, through the 1930's and into the '70's and '80's with the two latter poets.
The hall was full with four people grouped around each of the eight tables in a position to discuss, comment upon and offer opinions on the poem before them. We started with Joy reading Owen's 'Dulce et Decorum Est'. I had read this one before without realizing its true worth. There were poetical aware people who were able to contribute in the analysis of this piece of work and I was surprised how much had gone into the construction of it. We asked how much of it was written when he was on the 'Western Front' and how much had been influenced by Siegfried Sassoon when both were in Craiglockhert Hospital?
We were asked to question the effect it had, what the meaning was, to examine the schemes involved and in what the context was. There was very valid points made with the comment that this was 'a back-to-back' sonnet. Interesting to anyone with a leaning towards poetics.
Moving on we read 'Stop the Clocks' by W.H. Auden. The history is interesting in that he kept the first two verses and re-wrote the second two to turn it into a 'love poem'. I have heard it read at funerals, it figured in the film 'Four Weddings and a Funeral', it has been re-titled 'Funeral Blues' and was original written for another film. The view around the table was ' no, not really' - we didn't like it. However don't let me put you off reading this man as there to him that meets the eye - nudge-nudge, wink-wink.
We covered much ground in two hours and then we came to a different sort of protest with Grace Nichols and 'The Fat Black Woman Goes Shopping'. How can anyone not read it with that title at the top of the page? Her second one 'Wherever I Hang' is equally intriguing when she ends up by telling us where she hangs her knickers!
Her husband, John Agard, followed with 'Listen Mr Oxford Don' which you can listen to on-line.
We examined it and for me it was not a protest about how to speak - properly or otherwise - but about racism and classism. I agree with the man, speak how you like and protest about any reasonable injustice.
I had a great morning looking in some depth into some serious writing in a fairly formal setting but with tutorial control. It, and myself achieved our objectives. Then I sat and wrote this with pint of Pardoes, ham, egg and chips followed by strawberry and apple crumble with ice cream. It was such a good way to spend part of a wet afternoon.
And, I am on radio wildfire tonight just tune into the net.
-
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