Tag: Poetry in the House

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Reading from memory – the sequel

Lauderdale House - Poetry in the House

Well I did it. Yesterday evening at Lauderdale House in Highgate I recited two of my poems from memory. It was actually the perfect set-up – no microphone (which I usually like having, but in this case I was concerned it would prevent me from moving freely), the chairs set out in a semi circle, so I felt like a real story-teller. More about it in a mo.

First of all, I have to say how grateful I am to Shanta Acharya for giving me the opportunity to read at Poetry in the House, which she has been organising for nearly 20 years, without any outside funding. The evening began with an invitation to join Shanta and the other readers for a bite to eat at a nearby restaurant. A very sociable start to the night and one I particularly appreciated, because I knew I wouldn’t have even a moment to socialise at the end, being at the mercy of the 22.47 from Victoria.

The size of the audience was impressive (a lot more chairs had to be added after I took the above photo), and Shanta’s hosting style is wonderfully relaxed – all the readers’s biogs were on the flyers that people had in their hands, so she dispensed with verbal introductions, other than saying our names, and I liked that. It really seemed to put the poems to the fore, rather than the personalities. And what poems – all the sets were very strong.

Richard Skinner was launching his Smokestack pamphlet ‘Terrace’ (more on that shortly – we have pledged to swap pamphlets but will be doing so this evening at the Vanguard Readings) and treated us to ‘a Nebuchadnezzar joke’ and a beautiful poem written for a friend’s wedding which has yet to take place, amongst others. When Richard and I were talking earlier I was interested to learn that he never attended poetry courses or workshops, despite his impressive track record as a poet and the fact that he is Director of the Fiction Programme at Faber Academy. For my part, I replied that although I do go to workshops, I had to concede that the individual poems I’ve had the most success with hadn’t ever been workshopped. Hmm!

I was intrigued by the poetry of Mona Arshi – sometimes surreal, always surprising – who was ‘pre-launching’ her first collection, Small Hands, which she told me at supper beforehand was one of the first poetry books from Liverpool University Press. Another poet I want to read more of is Philip Hancock. I really enjoyed the mix of unselfconscious invention and gently ironic observation which I got from his poems. I’m not very articulate at explaining why particular poet voices resonate me with, but his did. Geraldine Paine‘s thoughtful and touching poems had both humour and beauty and Alan Murray‘s cheery pessimism and clever word-play certainly got the biggest laughs of the evening, but don’t be fooled by that, there was some heavyweight work in there.

I had the opening spot, which I was pleased about, because it meant I could then sit back and enjoy everyone else’s poems. I’d set myself the task last week of memorising a poem. In the end I did two from memory – the opener being a short and relatively easy to remember ‘list’ piece. I took Peter Kenny’s advice about tying in certain movements or gestures – I think that definitely helped to put the phrases in my mind. Being in the centre of a little ‘arena’ was also a bonus. I actually really enjoyed it, especially the silent pauses – the feeling of power, when you can hear a pin drop and you sense that people are waiting for your next words, or perhaps on edge wondering if you’ve lost it – is indescribably heady!

Halfway through the set I read one more from memory, a poem from my pamphlet, called ‘Closure’, which I’ve read often and which was written over a period of many years, so I really felt I ought to be able to remember it. As it happened, I did fluff a couple of words, but I didn’t let it show on my face and I don’t think anyone noticed. I was just a bit disappointed that I said ‘scar’ instead of ‘zipper’, since it’s one of the key moments in the poem!

So, onwards. I think I’ll do pretty much the same set next week at Pighog in Brighton, another great venue to read in, although I will be behind a mic there so I’ll need to prepared for that. If you’re somewhere within reach of Brighton do come! It’s just me and a performance poet / mulitmedia artist called Andreea Stan who I’m not familiar with, but from her Vimeo channel it looks like it could be an intriguing experience. Take a look at this – The Ocean is Almost Seven Miles Deep.

I can thoroughly recommend trying to memorise a poem or two. I opted not to have the book in my hand, because I think that would have made me less confident. Maybe that sounds odd, but not having anything to ‘fall back on’ does mean you commit to it fully, and I think that’s the key – you have to be entirely committed to delivering it from memory, and so practice as much as you need to do that. That would be my advice, anyway. I also think the audience responds to you better if you have nothing in your hands – I’ve certainly felt that as an audience member – there’s an immediacy, an intimacy that’s compelling.

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Reading from memory

Housman quote

Memorising poems has been much in the news lately. Classrooms recitals for children seem to be making a comeback. Julianne Moore’s character in ‘Still Alice’ is seen reciting Elizabeth Bishop’s ‘One Art’. For the last National Poetry Day theme of ‘Remembering’, Tony Mitton in the Guardian offered his top ten poems for children to learn from memory.

I was always impressed at how many lines of poetry my mother could still remember and recite, nearly 80 years after she learnt them in school. She told me her sister Ivy was better at it – ‘good at spouting’ was her term for it. I liked telling her when I was going to be ‘spouting’ at a poetry reading – although in honesty, I rarely spout, because I’ve never gone to the trouble of learning my own poems from memory, and I although I did learn poems for English exams at school (because we had to quote them) I don’t think I ever recited them, except to myself.

Ted Hughes’s ‘Hawk Roosting’ was one I learned back to front and upside down. In his introduction to By Heart – 101 Poems to Remember (Faber 1997), Hughes gives us an essay on the pleasure of memorising by using imagery and the visceral senses – age-old techniques which he claims were largely eradicated during the Protestantisation of England as being somehow ‘pagan’ or ‘catholic’, to be replaced by ‘rote learning’. I wonder if the loathing of rote learning is one of the factors behind the negative attitude of many people to poetry.

So what about today’s poets? Why are we not performing more of our work from memory? Of course I’m talking about ‘page’ poets here – whatever you think of the distinction, it exists. Perhaps the word ‘performing’ is a clue. Not all poets are performers, or wish to be. And reading without the prop of a book or a sheet of paper does mean answering some scary questions – what do I do with my hands? Where do I look? and not least of all What will happen if I forget the words?

Yesterday evening I had the pleasure of hosting Telltale Poets & Friends here in Lewes, in the warm glow of the (packed) upstairs room of the Lewes Arms, and the first reader was our own Peter Kenny. I’ve heard Peter read quite a few times now, and he has a natural presence and a voice that never fails to pull you in. Last night he gave an outing to a poem I’d not heard before, which he explained had been written thirty years ago or so. It was long, and he recited it from memory. Not just that, but it was a performance – not in the sense that it seemed choreographed or rehearsed, but more that it involved his whole body – in the reciting, in the meaning of the words, in the remembering. It felt powerful, and it seemed to draw in the audience, sharp as a laser. I’ve experienced this before – Cristina Navazo-Eguía Newton is mesmerising when she famously performs her work from memory.

So I’m now inspired to memorise one or two of my own (all pretty short) poems. I’ve a number of readings coming up, the first being Poetry in the House in London next week, at which I’m the first reader. Dare I set myself the goal of performing a poem from memory? Or perhaps start with a more modest goal  – having the book in hand in case I get into trouble, but not looking at it? Would that work? I’m not sure. I know when it comes to singing, I’m more able to sing confidently from memory if I don’t have the music available to fall back on.

I’m interested to know other people’s experiences of reciting or performing free verse from memory. Is it in your repertoire? Something you would like to do more, or no inclination? Do you enjoy or prefer it when poets read from memory?

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A clutch of Spring readings

Spring Daffs

After reading Jayne Stanton’s uplifting post about all the things she’s got to look forward to and how glad she is to see the back of February, I couldn’t help but agree – Spring is on its way and several treats are on the horizon.

Things kick off this evening at The Troubadour, where Anne-Marie Fyfe has invited me to join the readers in a yellow-themed extravaganza Big Yellow Taxi. I’m planning to read a short ‘poem starting with a first line by Emily Dickinson’ which features some of my favourite things yellow (eg Doris Day’s hair). I’m looking forward to seeing Stephen Bone there too, and I know he’s famous for taking the colour theme very seriously!

In a couple of week’s time I’m taking myself off to the lovely Arts and Crafts house Standen for a few days where I’m having a self-styled reading & writing retreat. Hurrah! Returning just in time for the launch of the Needlewriters Anthology in Lewes  on 26th March and an opportunity to read alongside my fabulous poetic cohorts Clare Best, Janet Sutherland, Charlotte Gann, Jeremy Page, Liz Bahs, Judith Kazantzis & Kay Syrad. I feel like the new girl being invited to the prefects’ table.

The next Needlewriters quarterly event is on April 9th, closely followed the next week by Telltale Poets & Friends at the Lewes Arms on Wednesday 15th April. I’m very excited about that as our headline reader will be Martin Malone, a fine poet as well as editor of The Interpreter’s House. We’ll also be showcasing two up and coming poets, Ryan Whatley and Helen Fletcher. Helen’s coming all the way from Carlisle so I hope we can get good audience and show her what a poetry-loving lot we are in Lewes.

In the back end of the month I’ll be reading at Poetry in the House, Shanta Acharya’s regular event at Lauderdale House in Highgate, on Wednesday 22nd April alongside some super poets including Mona Arshi and Richard Skinner.

And big thanks to Michaela Ridgway for inviting me to read at the long-running Pighog Poetry night in Brighton on Thursday 30th April.  Pighog Press have been taken over by US publisher Red Hen, but the Brighton poetry nights continue. The Redroaster Cafe is a super venue and the nights are well attended, so it should be great fun.

If you’re able to get to any of the above, please come and say hello!

 

Angst/

A writing retreat, and other treats

Standen House

I always think of January as being a bit dreary, so it tends to be the time of year I make plans for things to look forward to.

Number one is a short writing retreat – I did a DIY retreat a couple of years ago and got a lot out of it – not least of all enough material to produce two decent poems.  But I was a bit lonely – so this time I’ve booked 3 nights away rather than four, at a National Trust flat in Standen, an Arts & Crafts house which I’ve always loved visiting. I’ll have free range access to all the gardens and grounds while I’m there and a cosy flat in the servants quarters where I can read and write. Are you jealous yet?! That will be in March, when the days will be slightly longer and who knows, maybe warmer too.

I’ve also booked onto an afternoon workshop with Anne-Marie Fyfe on the theme of ‘a bridge too far’ in February, and this workshop offered by Poetry Swindon also looks tempting – Smart reading for smarter writing with Martin Malone – but it’s the day before and I might be tad exhausted from all the workshopping (and travelling) in one weekend.

It’s a good thing I’m going to be doing some workshopping and retreating because I’ve got a few readings coming up, and need new material! This Thursday 22nd January I’m on home turf here in Lewes for Needlewriters, then nothing else booked for a while, although Telltale Poets are planning another reading in March or April – we’ll be finalising that soon. On April 22nd I’ll be reading at Lauderdale House in London, as part of Shanta Acharya’s Poetry in the House series, which will be fab, and in May 3rd I’ll be in Mayfield for a reading during the Mayfield Fringe Festival, at the kind invitation of Sian Thomas. Later in the year, big thanks to Dawn Gorman for booking me to read at Words and Ears in Bradford on Avon on October 29th – which is actually my birthday, so we’re making a nice trip of it.

As regards submissions, there’s no news to report I’m afraid. I’ve lost a bit of momentum. I’m in the doldrums with no sign of the wind getting up. So I’m focusing more on finding the time to write, and am resisting the urge to enter competitions or submit to any more mags just for the sake of getting things out there. To be honest the cupboard is bare at the moment – all my half-decent stuff is tied up and out of circulation. If you’re interested, here’s how the magazine submissions are going:

4 poems have been out for 5 days – yes! I submitted a few the other day – but other than that:
9 poems have been out for 76 days
4 poems for 131 days
4 poems for 156 days

I’ll soon be able to move a couple back into circulation which were out to competitions. It’s a slooooow process, isn’t it? But I’m heartened by reminding myself that for many fine poets three or four good poems a year was (or is) enough.  Quality, not quantity 🙂 And think of the treats coming up!