Tag: agnieszka Studzinska

Currently reading

Currently reading March 2015

Here’s what’s on my bedside table this month vying with the Sudoku book…

The March issue of Poetry arrived the other day so I’ve only just dipped into it. A wonderful piece towards the end by Kate Farrell introducing an unfinished poem by her ex-husband Kenneth Koch written when he was in Rome in 1978. This resonates with me particularly as it was to Rome that I ran away in 1979 and I’ve strong memories of that time and place. Other stand-outs so far: three wonderful poems by Michelle Y. Burke. Here’s one: Diameter. It’s exciting to get Poetry in the post – always new names and new surprises.

Jackie Wills, Woman’s Head as Jug (Arc, 2013). Jackie is someone I’ve been aware of for a long time as she’s Brighton-based and well-known in these parts as a writer and tutor, and although I’ve only heard her read twice it was memorable. I loved the short poems I’d heard from the middle section of Woman’s Head as Jug (great title!) in a sequence called ‘Sweats’, partly with the fear of ‘oh god is this what’s to come’ but also for their precision and black humour. The book begins with a series of poems giving voice to an eclectic range of female workers, from ‘A Lone Leaping Woman’ (which we’re told is a female itinerant worker in Mediaeval England) to ‘Dorset Buttonmaker’ and possibly the poet herself in ‘Saturday Girl’.

Pippa Little, Overwintering (Carcanet 2012). I came across Pippa’s name on a competition shortlist recently and something made me look her up. On Susan Rich’s blog I found two poems from Overwintering – read them here  – which made me want to buy the collection and I’m not sorry I did. Lots to get stuck into and enjoy here.

Byron, Selected Verse & Prose Works including Letters and Extracts from Lord Byron’s Journals and Diaries (ed. Quennell, Collins 1959). I’ve never read any Byron. Although I’m a reasonable bluffer should I need to pretend I have. This book came to me via my husband’s step-daughter who was clearing her grandparents’ house and put all the poetry books into a box with my name on. There was no pressure on me to have them all, thankfully, but I gratefully took this one, as well as a Rupert Brooke Collected and a Penguin Poets first edition of Burns. I’ve actually gone straight to Byron’s journal and ‘detached thoughts’, basically the 19th century equivalent of a blog. I’m excited at the idea of learning more about his life, work and personality through these writings. This book is a little odd in that it’s been bound upside-down, which means I always try opening it the wrong way. Hmmm.

Katherine Mansfield, Selected Stories (OUP 2008). I’ve always wanted to read some Katherine Mansfield. Perhaps partly because of her being published by the Hogarth Press and her connection to the Bloomsbury group (Charleston House is very near Lewes and I’m a fan of its annual literary festival.) In my book group a few years ago we discussed reading her but it never happened, so now I’m reading it in my book group of one.

Agnieszka Studzinska, What Things Are (Eyewear, 2104). I haven’t started this yet but I’m looking forward to it. I found myself sitting next to Agnieszka (who kindly told me she goes by the name ‘Nisha’ for short) at a recent Coffee House Poetry workshop. She’s one of those beautiful, modest AND talented poets who are also down-to-earth and friendly – GRRR! – for heaven’s sake, Nisha, give the rest of us mortals a break!! The collection comes with warm blurbs from Michael Symmons Roberts, Deryn Rees-Jones and Hannah Lowe. One to watch, if you’re not already watching her.

A Bridge (not) Too Far – workshop with Anne-Marie Fyfe

Today I made my first visit to the Troubadour cafe, after thinking about it for a long time – I thought I’d start by going to one of Anne-Marie Fyfe‘s Coffee House Poetry workshops, which always sound enticing. The theme was ‘bridges’, and the first irony of the day was my inability to locate Wandsworth Bridge, despite the satnav lady giving it her best shot. Thankfully I managed it second time around. I’m glad I drove – although it’s a couple of hours away from where I live, parking around the Troubadour is free and easy on a Sunday, whereas the rail service from the South coast is non-existent on Sundays, making for miserable four-hour journeys. And it was pouring with rain when I left so jumping into the car was wonderful.

Troubadour Cafe
Is that Hilda lurking behind the partition?

There’s something a tad intimidating about the Troubadour cafe – the door is solid and heavy so it’s as if you have to be ‘in the know’ to enter. The interior is, well, quirky. As I quietly ordered my cup of tea, wondering if I’d see anyone I knew, it was a relief to hear my name being called from out of the darkness by none other than the grande dame of Swindon Poetry, Hilda Sheehan. Brilliant – and when I uploaded my photos I realised I’d captured Hilda in shot without noticing – ha ha! Hilda introduced me to Anne-Marie and some of of the participants, many of whose names I knew – Angela Kirby, Dorothy Yamamoto, Jill Abram. There was a slight panic as Hilda and I rushed upstairs for the start of the workshop only to find ourselves in someone’s kitchen. Ooops! Luckily no-one appeared to ask what the hell we were doing there. All I can say is that the door to the gallery is right next to someone’s flat. You have been warned!

It was a well-run writing workshop – to time, with lots of reading material to get inspiration from and to take away to read properly later. Anne-Marie was a warm & supportive tutor with a toolbox of tricks, from guided writing exercises to a pack of bridge photos around which we were to invited to write just one line before moving onto the next. In the break we had time to polish up a poem to share, and although I didn’t come up with anything very original it served its purpose to get me thinking and writing. Lots of interesting stuff produced by others.

There were rather a lot of participants, although for once I wasn’t bothered by this. And I was lucky to find myself sitting between two lovely poets whose names rang a bell and who I’ve since looked up, to discover they are indeed both talented and accomplished writers:  Agnieszka Studzinska and Frances Galleymore. Exciting and humbling to have been in such good company. I’ll be back.

Troubadour cafe - the bar