Readings – Page 13 – Robin Houghton

Books/ 08/09/2013

A day at the (Poetry Book) Fair

Having answered a call for volunteers on Facebook, I found myself yesterday at Conway Hall in London, donning a blue badge and helping out at the Free Verse: Poetry Book Fair.

Organised by Chrissy Williams and CB Editions, with a lot of help also from Joey Connolly, the Fair is in its third year and apparently bigger than ever. I wasn’t sure what to expect but it was quite a crush – and with something like 700 visitors through the door and 50 or so publishers present, I felt nervously close to the epicentre of the poetry world.

When it comes to events I quite enjoy having a job to do, because otherwise I tend to turn up, wander around, not dare to talk to anyone and leave with a sensation that everyone else knows each other and I don’t know anyone. Actually I still felt like I didn’t know anyone, even though I blatantly did – the ever-friendly Mike from the Poetry Society plus several poet friends including Hilda Sheehan, Marion Tracy and Harry Man. I had very nice chats with many of the publishers and by the end of the day had minded shop for Amy from Seren Books and Sophie from Inpress. I even sold a book for Inpress (thanks, Marion!) I introduced myself to Nell Nelson from HappenStance and discovered a poetry press in my own home town that I’d never heard of. Who’d have thunk it?

I nearly bought quite a lot of stuff but in the end restrained myself. On the Templar table I fell for Matt Bryden’s Night Porter, which has got me thinking seriously about how I might group up some of my poems around a distinct theme and enter them for the Iota Shots pamphlet comp.

Then I spent £3 on a set of 4 microbooks from Hazard Press, witty confections and utterly not what I ought to have been buying, but I couldn’t resist.

On the Roncadora Press table, artist Hugh Bryden told me about the processes involved in producing their beautiful publications, all hand-made. I was so, so tempted by Nest – the photo on their site does not do it justice, the whole thing is a wonderful work of art, and they were selling it for just £6. Blimey, that can hardly have paid for the paper.

Astrid Alben

After the publishers had packed up and left, everyone moved over to the pub for an evening of free readings. Although I didn’t stay for them all, I did catch an enjoyable short set from Astrid Alben, reading from her Arc collection Ai! Ai! Pianissimo (memorable or what?) and later on, with a whole army of young male fans in tow, Chris McCabe who read in tandem with Jeremy Reed from their Nine Arches Press publication Whitehall Jackals. Read his blog post about the making of it here. Sorry about the rather grainy pics by the way.

chris mccabe

Chris was the highlight of the evening for me. I loved his poetry and both he and Astrid were readers with real presence – something that’s hard to define and probably impossible to teach, but you kind of know it when you see it. All in all an enjoyable and inspirational day.

Books/ 04/09/2013

BlueGate Poets Anthology

Swindon is a hotbed of poetry! I actually live 130 miles from there, but this year I’ve been drawn into its orbit and am very pleased to be a member of BlueGate Poets. Founded in 2008 by the extraordinary and indefatigable writer and arts event organiser Hilda Sheehan, BlueGate Poets hosts events, readings, workshops and open mics, and its membership has grown to fifty or so, from aspiring writers to published and award-winning.

It’s lovely to have a couple of my poems in BlueGate Poets latest online anthology (check out also a previous anthology, Separate Ways, poems written on the Swindon Art Collection – some lovely gems there.)

Hilda’s first poetry collection The Night My Sister Went to Hollywood was published recently by Cultured Llama and she’ll be reading from it at the Free Verse: Poetry Book Fair in London this weekend. I’ll be there making tea or something, so hoping to catch with Hilda and other poet friends – let me know if you’re going too!

Places/ 10/08/2013

Poetry & music at The Core

It was a great pleasure to read at the Swindon Shuffle event on Thursday. Our co-host was the lovely Hilda Sheehan of Blue Gate Poets. As well as being a fine poet and prolific writer, Hilda is clearly a major driving force for poetry good in Swindon, and I’m hoping to be able to reciprocate sometime soon and invite her down to Lewes for a reading.

I took with me both my husband and my brother- & sister-in-law who told me they’d never been to a poetry reading before, which made me a tad nervous. I needn’t have been though – the mix of poetry and music, together with several breaks, meant it was perfect for poetry ‘virgins’.

In the first half we heard talented local up-and-coming Jadine Eagle followed by the experienced and widely published Anna-May Laugher from Reading, and an acoustic set from auralcandy which went down particularly well. Stephen Payne and I read after the break (great to hear his set – Stephen was picked by Smith’s Knoll for mentoring and publication, so clearly a fine poet) and the evening finished with a two-piece called Wave Dance, playing what my sister-in-law confidently knew to be surfer hippy music (from her cheesecloth and VW Campervan days) which I really enjoyed, especially the fascinating array of percussion instruments, ranging from a hotel desk bell to vintage Fairy Liquid bottles filled with rice.

Swindon Poetry Reading — Top: Robin, Hilda Sheehan, Jadine Eagle. Bottom: Anna May Laugher, Stephen Payne, The Core

I think the four poets each offered something quite different, and mixing it up with music was really fun. Plus, my non-poet guests said they’d had a great time and hadn’t been scared off by anything too hardcore, so that was gratifying. A success all round!

My only reservation about the evening was there not being any alcohol available (The Core is a juice bar) – even though the atmosphere was chilled, people were very friendly and the juices got good reviews. Personally I don’t drink before I read (could’ve killed for a glass of Chardonnay afterwards though), but I appreciate an audience that’s, shall we say, a little loosened up – perhaps that’s churlish of me? Sadly I missed the post-event drink in the pub, as we had to get back to Newbury, but next time hopefully!

Places/ 05/08/2013

This Thursday: Swindon Shuffle / Blue Gate Poets

If you’re anywhere near Swindon do come along to what should be a great night of poetry and music – The Swindon Shuffle @ The Core in association with Blue Gate Poets. I’m going to be reading alongside Stephen Payne, Anna-May Laugher and Jadine Eagle.

Many thanks to Hilda Sheehan for inviting me – really looking forward to it – now I’ve just got to decide what to read.

Thursday 8th August, 7.30 – 9.30pm at The Core. See the Facebook event page for details.

Forthcoming readings in the pipeline: September at the Crypt in Seaford as part of the annual Seaford Live festival, and October in Tunbridge Wells (possibly the 24th – to be confirmed).

Places/ 02/08/2013

Poetry Review launch and the Keats & Marx trail

Last week I met up with poet friend Lynne to go to the Poetry Review launch at Keats House museum in Hampstead. I admit I’d not visited Keats House before (although I’ve been to the one in Rome), and I don’t think I’ve ever been to that part of Hampstead either. I grew up in South London and north of the river was (and still is in a way) a foreign country.

As soon as you get off the train at Hampstead Heath it feels like you’re in a rather well-heeled and gorgeous place. Must be something to do with the street name plates being white-on-black, like in Oxford.

Keats Grove — Wouldn’t you want to live here?

Keats House apparently used to be two dwellings made to look from the outside like one. Young John was separated from Fanny Brawne merely by a load-bearing wall.

The Poetry Review Launch was a warm affair and very sociable, Lynne and I even got snapped by the paparazzi.

I met some lovely people, including Shanta Acharya, London poet Tessa Lang and recent Pighog Pamphlet winner Kate White, but didn’t really do any schmoozing. I almost introduced myself to Maurice Riordan, but then what would I have said to him? I actually don’t have a great track record of this sort of thing. Plus I’d had two three glasses of wine by this point and we all know what happens when things get a bit lairy.

Highlight of the evening for me was hearing Sam Willetts read – more about him in a later blog post.

Anyway, I was so delighted with the place I persuaded my husband that we had to have a day out to Hampstead and Highgate the very next week. As luck would have it, we chose Tuesday and it POURED with rain. Here I am slightly less happy, in Highgate Cemetery.

We took the guided tour of Highgate Cemetery West and learned about the Victorian fashion for draped vases, sleeping angels, Egyptian themed monuments and body snatching. There are 53,000 graves, mostly falling down as the undergrowth slowly reclaims it all. In the drizzle I can only liken it to being in a jungle, or perhaps Angkor Wat – but colder and quieter.

People are still being buried at Highgate, but not as many as in its heyday (thirty a day wasn’t uncommon apparently.) One of its newest residents is Alexander Litvinenko, whose grave we were asked not to photograph.

I’d like to go back to the Cemetery on a drier day. Not sure if anyone offers writing workshops there but it fired up all sorts of weird ideas in me.

We decided not to walk up onto Hampstead Heath – another time! – but at least we visited Keats House properly and ended up playing Scrabble and drying off at The Wells (fab food by the way.)

Last but not least – did you know Hampstead has its very own Flatiron Building?

Flatiron buildings x 2 — Separated at birth?

Angst/ 05/07/2013

I mislaid my poetic mojo in a Ghent hostel

Having been away for four days ‘helping’ with a college trip to Belgium (my husband was the tour leader – his A level students) I’m finding it hard to get back to poetry.

I suppose it’s partly because I’m having to catch up with work as well, and not having a proper night’s sleep the whole time we were away (teenagers don’t go to sleep before 2am, so nor can anyone else in a Youth Hostel where there are no carpets and the doors all slam).

Although they were (for the most part) very nice people, I just found the whole being-around-40-teenagers utterly exhausting and a tad depressing. Their energy saps mine, their zest for life deadens my creativity. I’m amazed at how so many writers are able to combine a teaching career with writing – and yet it’s such a common combination, whether it’s by choice or necessity.

OK, I realise I’m probably being over-dramatic here, after all I think a foreign trip is tiring even for the full time teachers, because you’re never off-duty, not for a moment.

Anyway, I think I now have an even higher respect for my husband and his colleagues for everything they bring and give to teaching. I just know I don’t have that kind of generosity in me!

But on a more positive note… lots to look forward to, not least of all some much-needed sunshine!

The answer to a creativity deadzone for me is to read, and read good stuff. I’ve still to explore the new Poetry Review and Magma which arrived a week or so ago, plus I’m reading Abegail Morley’s Snow Child and Ben Parker’s The Escape Artists, so I’ll be talking about those soon on the blog.

Poetry readings coming up: Hilda Sheehan has very kindly invited me to read at the Blue Gate Poets meeting on 8th August in Swindon, and I’m currently talking with the organisers of the Shoreham Wordfest about putting on a poetry night where I hope to be reading alongside some lovely poet friends. Then come October there are exciting plans for a reading with Abegail Morley and Emer Gillespie – will keep you posted.

Pamphlets/ 13/06/2013

Margaret Wilmot pamphlet launch

What a lovely relaxed evening we had yesterday at the Lewes Arms for the launch of Margaret Wilmot’s Smiths Knoll pamphlet Sweet Coffee. The upstairs room at the Arms is fairly intimate – I’ve seen it packed once or twice on Lewes Poetry nights when there’s been a big name draw, but on the whole it’s well suited to a smallish gathering. Last night was well supported by Margaret’s fellow ‘Green Room Poets’, friends, family and local poets. A spread of food was a very nice touch but unfortunately I had a risotto waiting for me at home!

Margaret is originally from California, and some of the poems in the pamphlet are reflections on her ‘american’ period. I particularly enjoyed ‘America, life’, a kind of travelogue poem on leaving California in 1969 and crossing the US hinterland, full of energy and optimism.

There followed a range of poems including some poignant work on theme of old age. Memorable for me were the eponymous ‘Sweet Coffee’ and ‘In my box called the imagination’ – you can read this on Margaret’s Poetry PF page.

We also heard a couple of poems each from Green Room Poets Judith Cair, Celia Dixie, Andie Lewenstein, Mandy Pannett and Penny Shepherd. I really loved Andie’s poem about a mermaid.

I apologise for the quality of the photo – I should really take a proper camera to these dos!

I’m not entirely sure how you can get hold of the pamphlet as Smiths Knoll is now closed, but I would think contacting Margaret directly would be an idea, perhaps via Poetry PF.

Readings/ 11/06/2013

Upcoming events

Just a quick one … typing is a tad painful having just seen the physio about my shoulder (impingement of the supraspinatus and subscapularis, in case you’re interested).

A few things I’m looking forward to this month:

Tomorrow at the Lewes Arms is the launch of Margaret Wilmot’s Smith’s Knoll pamphlet ‘Sweet Coffee’ – should be a nice Lewes poetry event.

Monday 17th – Brighton Poetry Stanza workshopping group – although actually I can’t make it because I’m due to give a talk about blogging at New Writing South’s Tonbridge venue (time and venue tbd).

Friday 21st – Saturday 22nd – Britmums Live – the UK’s biggest bloggers’ conference, apparently (the people who run it aren’t british and I’m not a mum, but hey!) I’m making my ‘panel’ debut – always wanted to be on a panel! – and also giving a talk on blog design.

Thurs 27th – Needlewriters in Lewes – Clare Best & Sacha Dugdale – should be great.

Mags & Blogs/ 05/06/2013

First ‘Poetry Unplugged’ experience

So much for my resolve to get out and do more readings/open mics this year.

I haven’t yet plucked up the courage to tackle the Troubadour, although to be honest it’s partly the thought of making my way there (actually it’s the getting back from west London – late at night – a mission with Southern Rail, believe me) and not knowing if I’m going to make it on the open mic list or not. But I like the look of their Monday evening events, with some impressive guest poets appearing.

Last night however I took part in my first Poetry Unplugged open mic night at the Poetry Cafe in London, accompanied by my up-for-anything friend Lucy. It was about this time last year that I persuaded her along to the Betsey Trotwood for an Ambit launch, where I managed to disgrace myself by drinking too much and she did an impromptu guest spot behind the bar. I’ve never been published in Ambit but I’m sure that’s just a coincidence.

Anyway, back to last night. It was a reasonably full room – pretty impressive that it’s been going for over ten years and it’s every week – I marvel at the stamina of host Niall O’Sullivan, who keeps time with joviality and a very visible iPad display. Most impressive was his ability to say people’s names both before and after they read, and come up with a little linkage banter that made reference to the poems we’d just heard. What a pro.

The first half was an interesting mix of newbies and (I assume) regulars, ten men plus myself. Lucy and I had looked over my poems in Pizza Express and agreed on the two to read – the one where I channel Calamity Jane and the other one a found poem, one of my few ‘funnies’. I think it did raise a slight titter (thanks Lucy!) – but probably too many references to 70s TV shows and not sure I was on the same wavelength as the earnest-looking (and mostly young) audience. Ah well – I still enjoyed reading.

Someone read a lovely poem about a lady who had suffered from dementia in later years and he felt her funeral hadn’t done justice to the person she once was. Probably my favourite of the night, I wish I could remember the poet’s name. Among the others we had some heartfelt lost love/bittersweet memories material, one long tale in rhyming couplets which apparently was after Edgar Allen Poe (Lucy had to enlighten me on that), some stormin’ political commentary and some (self-described) ‘anti-feminist’ shouty stuff.

Many performed from memory – something I should try to do I think, but I would have to be absolutely word-perfect – nothing worse than forgetting (and telling the audience you’ve forgotten) for breaking the spell. Having said that, the very first poet up stumbled rather towards the end and eventually gave up in a cloud of “fuck its” but all very jolly about it so no-one minded. The last performer entered just as he was announced, giving the impression that it was some sort of show of superiority, or that he couldn’t be arsed to listen to anyone else. This made Lucy and myself less guilty about leaving before the second half, much as I’d like to have heard some women reading (surely there were some) it’s quite an intimate venue and it would have looked worse to leave halfway through I think. And the 21.47 from Victoria beckoned.

PS I’ll certainly go back some time – anyone like to come with me?

Poems/ 26/05/2013

Guest post: Dickman & Gray at the Poetry Cafe

Jo Grigg was at the Poetry cafe on Thursday for what sounds like an exciting evening! Many thanks to Jo for this guest post.

London’s Poetry café on a May evening, it feels like February. Then poet Ann Gray describes ‘a pale lake pulling at the throat of May’ and I think ‘yesss’. Reading her poem ‘Joy’ recently, commended in the National Poetry Comp 2010, was enough to bring me to her reading. The first two lines of ‘Joy’ go:

‘When I let the chickens out, I hurl mixed corn

in a golden arc across the frosted ground.’

It’s a ‘mother’ poem, among other things:

‘… A mother is a precious thing. I know that

now I’m sure to lose her……’

She reads a selection including a couple of poems based on her time as a nurse in a children’s’ cancer unit, something she rarely writes about. I liked both ‘her’ as performer and ‘her’ as wordsmith – the images, turns of phrase, along with some heavy subject matter, left me wanting more.

She’d travelled from Cornwall to introduce the (relatively) young American Matthew Dickman, telling us how, after reading his poem describing grief as a purple gorilla (did I hear right?) they began a correspondence five years ago and have only now met. It turns out to be a good combo; he’s funny, rude, perceptive. (He sends three spare pamphlets flying into the audience – did I hear ‘ouch!’ behind me?) Some of his poems felt a bit longwinded but where they hit home – such as a piece about his brother who committed suicide – they were powerful.

Ann writes lists (two poems listing flower names, one of what’s for breakfast at a Broadstairs B&B), Matthew says fxxx and asks how many in the audience are fellow drug users. Both of them throw things. As Ann Gray tells us in her poem of introduction, Matthew has ‘a widescreen cinema’ in his head. I’m not sure I’d go to all his movies but am glad I was at the UK premiere of this one. I’d go hear her any time.

Matthew Dickman, ‘an extraordinary young American from Portland, Oregon, who is fast being recognised as one of the most important and original new American voices. http://www.matthewdickmanpoetry.com

Ann Gray is co-organiser of the Bodmin Moor Poetry Festival, which is on at the moment. You can read her poem ‘Joy’ on the Poetry Society website.

Photo of Matthew Dickman from www.matthewdickmanpoetry.com

Photo of Ann Gray from www.poetrysociety.org.uk

Category: Readings