Tag: Cork International Poetry Festival

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Day 3 in Cork – turning a corner

Book haul 1 Cork

It’s day 3 and I’m settling into my Cork Poetry Festival experience. Yesterday and today I’ve spent the morning writing and reading. Afternoons I go to hear readings at the library, evenings are in the fine Cork Arts Theatre – a lovely intimate size perfect for poetry.

Highlights for me so far:

Launch event for The Well Review issue 3 on Tuesday at the Music School: a wonderfully thought-out programme that followed the ‘music’ theme of the issue. In between readings by contributors (Sasha Dugdale read Anna Akhmatova both in English and in Russian – I marvelled at the way her voice changes in accommodation) we heard music for cello and piano, by Shostakovich, Britten and Mahler. Editor Sarah Byrne made the introductions and has a manner I want to describe as ‘sweet’ but I don’t mean that in a patronising or sugary way at all. Gentle, thoughtful, informed.

US/Irish poet Thomas Dillon Redshaw reading yesterday at the library, from his collection Mortal (Brighthorse Books) and some new material too – goodness, what moving poems from the experience of losing his mother ‘in her hundredth year’. One of them, ‘Theft’, was published by the Irish Times last Saturday.

Yesterday evening I loved hearing Pat Boran, another name I hadn’t heard of but I bought a copy of his ‘pocket selected’ A Man is Only as Good…(Orange Crate Books) and have already started reading & enjoying it. We also had Jessica Traynor reading from The Quick (Dedalus Press 2018). Great presentation and some wonderful poems. A poet I have heard read before of course is Kim Moore. I’d heard most of her set before and that was a big part of my enjoyment of it. She manages to make each reading (and the links) sound fresh, making me laugh at the funny bits as if hearing them for the first time.

Meanwhile I’ve actually already worked on four ‘archive’ poems (ie one of about 200 I’ve ‘put in the drawer’ over the years) and started a new one. The new one is partly a response to Thomas Dillon Redshaw’s poems about his mother. It’s been six years since my mother died, but just ten lines written this morning and I was crying my eyes out. I would blame it on hormones but I think that’s all done with now.

I won’t deny I’ve struggled a bit since arriving in Cork – people have been so kind on Twitter but by last night I was seriously wondering what sort of dreadful negativity I was giving off in real life! I’m so grateful to Sasha Dugdale for joining me at breakfast yesterday, but then later in the day she endured my moaning on about being a Jonny-no-mates – ugh!  How embarrassing – I owe her a bunch of flowers at least.

I’ve reminded myself of a few truths: that I can’t have it both ways – I like my solitary time, I knew it would be challenge to come here not knowing anyone, I came to hear the work of poets new to me, and to be inspired. I didn’t come here to socialise, or to feel obliged to fit in with others – I am an outsider here so wishing that wasn’t the case is really a bit silly. So I’m over myself. I’m in Ireland for $£@*’s sake! I’m hearing some fantastic poetry! I’m extremely lucky!

Anyway, today’s another day entirely and from my first encounter with the famous Cork friendliness at the health club reception desk this morning (Shane! Thank you! I realise that you probably spell your name Siaorghne or something so please forgive my ignorance) to the brilliantly empty swimming pool, to the wonderful person on reception who offered me a different room, (in which hopefully I won’t be woken three times a night by the bins lorry) I feel encased in a glow of positivity and ready to turn a corner. Off to the library.

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Pre-Cork checklist

banshee magazineAlthough I’m going to miss my writer’s group this week it’s for a good reason, as I’ll be in Ireland for the Cork International Poetry Festival, which sounds rather grand, but so far my impression is that it’s going to be a chilled affair, perhaps not as intimate as Swindon but not as scary as Aldeburgh in its Snape Maltings days. Having booked for all the sessions online it was lovely (and unexpected) to receive the slightly ‘alt’ programme in the post. I’ve been googling various poets so that I’m not entirely in the dark when I go hear them read. I’ve also come across at least one ‘fringe’ or rival event on Thursday night, so perhaps there’ll be a bit of poetry gunslinging. All adding to the good energy no doubt. Anyway, you’ll be the first to hear about what goes on as I’ll certainly be writing the odd blog post… but I’ve promised myself some serious writing time each morning. The weather forecast is rain, so what better than to hole up in the warm and dry, reading fine poetry and writing, um, poetry?

Meanwhile I’ve been dipping my toe in the Irish poetry scene with Banshee, three back issues of which arrived in the post, together with a nifty tote which may well come in handy in the next few days. So far so good – and I’ve been enjoying the essays as much as the poems. I do enjoy creative non-fiction and for me it sits well with poetry, whereas I struggle to switch my attention between poetry and short stories. This hasn’t occurred to me before so it’s an interesting discovery.

A couple of things: Martyn Crucefix asked me to mention his current project Works and Days of Division – basically he is posting 29 new, original poems in which he wrestles with Brexit. The form he’s following is an old one. “The so-called vacana poems originate in the bhakti religious protest movements in 10-12th century India. Through plain language, repetition and refrain, they offer praise to the god, Siva, though they also express personal anger, puzzlement, even despair.” A thoughtful alternative to the current political “debate” and one which dwells more on what Martyn terms the “psychological fallout”.  Here’s today’s poem, ‘O Twitterstorm’.

And surfacing on on Twitter, this gem of a poem by Claire Cox was voted the Poem of the Month on Ink, Sweat & Tears: ‘The card given out at his funeral’. Lovely stuff.

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To Cork!

Rather unlike me but I decided on the spur of the moment to go to the Cork Poetry Festival! Having followed a tweet about it, I looked to see how possible/expensive it might be to go, and before I knew it I’d booked travel, accommodation and all the sessions. Within a few days of booking, this arrive in the post:

Cork Poetry Festival programme

So why Cork, of all the festivals? It was a combination of factors. The dates work for me. The cost of attending all the paid-for readings and ‘in conversation’s (many are free) came out at around £80 (if I had wanted to take part in a daily workshop or a manuscript appraisal then that would have cost extra).Many of the poets reading there are completely unfamiliar to me, plus there’ll be a magazine launch, a young writers showcase and a competition results night…lots of exposure to new voices and outside the comfort zone of familiar faces. Another thing I liked was that all the readings are in the afternoon and evening, leaving the mornings free. This gives me mornings to write, and maybe do some exploring – although I may just want to have lie-ins or hole up with hot chocolate in the bar. With so much new stuff to take in it will be nice to have unencumbered headspace each day, and by turning it into a writing retreat it becomes even more of a justifiable expense. I’ll just have to make sure I don’t take too much stuff, so I can bring back a bunch of books without breaking the weight-limit for the plane.