Garyswordz

Organiser Bohdan Piesecki is a glutton for punishment. Not content with organising a seven nation dice slam a couple of weeks ago, he still found time to put on the regular monthly Hit the Ode. As usual, it did not disappoint. Bohdan’s pursuit of international stars is relentless and tonight we had Dizzylez from France who delivered a set “au poil”. Speaking in French and English, and utilising a loop and wooden beat-box (for train sound effects), he delighted, teased and entertained in an entertaining, multi-media presentation sometimes with translation on screen, sometimes without. His hip hop fascination was obvious (le Slam) as was his interest in call and response with Sur le Pont. Tonight he performed without musical accompaniment from his frequent on stage partner Skuba, but his energetic performance was never short of interest.

Pret de la mere stood out, cleverly using the loop for an atmospheric sonic background of waves ebbing and flowing to underscore his vocal , reminiscent of the Roxy Music song Sea Breezes from their eponymous debut album. Bryan Ferry ( and particularly Brian Eno) would have liked it. My favourite was Today we are Free, an Orwellian satire,with a pan European appeal as Europe slides from rampant consumerism into the financial abyss.

Tshaka Campbell was second on the bill for an impressive, yet slightly frustrating performance. His roots span London, New York and Los Angeles and his poetry draws from all three locations. Commanding, charismatic, authoritative and lyrically dexterous, he had everything going for him. The problem for me was that the material he chose, fine in its own right, somehow didn’t quite hang together. The third part of a relationship trilogy set in the Bronx epitomised this, I felt that I was being offered a snapshot, when I wanted a film. A battle of the sexes pairing was also uneven, Love Hard for women was strong, You Gotta Know My Name, for men, surprisingly less so. Brimful of energy and ideas it would be interesting to see Tshaka performing a full set in which he had time to breathe and establish his groove.

Third on the headline bill were Type S, a newly formed Brum Supergroup of rising young talent comprising Matt Windle, MstrMorrrison and Jody Ann Bickley. Matt has been around performing for so long, and has achieved so much, that it is easy to forget how young he is. Opening up, he offered the assuredness of a pro with I Predict A Riot, a thoughtful youthful take on the summer disturbances, far removed from the braggadocio of the Kaiser Chiefs song of the same title. MstrMorrison is developing into a substantial arist with his opus April’s Eyes showcasing his talent. Although a performance piece, the more I hear it, the more I am struck by its depth with Springsteenesque explorations of struggle and redemption. Sometimes the rightful precociousness of youth can cause performers to over reach themselves in the subjects they tackle. His understated style make his words and story even more compelling. MstrMorrison is now on the cusp of being able to be more ambitious in the material he attempts as his core craft is so strong, watch out as he does so . Jody Ann Bickley took to the stage for an emotional appearance, made as she only just starts her recovery from a debilitating illness. She is a fantastic voice with a maturity of observation way beyond her years. Her reflections on a lost love, and how she might see things in the future was poignant, her vision of what everlasting love might look like for a couple in their dotage wistful, elegiac and a delight. All the Brum poetic community offer our best wishes for a speedy recovery to Jody Ann.

And so to the undercard ,which was probably the strongest I have seen at Hit the Ode and featured numerous HTO debutantes . The ever reliable Heather Wastie was given the onerous responsibility of opening the evening, and proved a safe pair of hands with the topical Halloween Nightmare and tales of black country butcher bloodletting sufficient to prompt mass vegetarianism, newcomer Chris Ewing’s staccato style of delivery was confusing, Suz Winspear’s was not. Dressed resplendent in Gothic garb, Suz teased and entertained in A Seduction is Attempted – with an Ostend transvestite, and Dear Bridget , a study on how to commit a murder. Showy, fun, amusing and clever, a bit of an object lesson in how to do this performance stuff really!

Jess Green’s style and Jody Ann’s are quite similar, confident, sassy and hip, she rattled through Beyond the Kettle and Scratchwood Green in some style. My appreciation of her first poem was enhanced by my having misheard the first title, inexplicably, as Bamburgh Castle. This resulted in my mind racing into overdrive as I sought to find a link between the words and title – which didn’t exist! Her explanation, and apology, in the latter poem that she only knows the lyrics to Queens Don’t Stop Me Now as a result of forced indoctrination by a friend’s mother, marked her out as a performer of taste and discernment.

Nathan Williams, who has a remarkable likeness to Simon Bird in “The Inbetweeners,” opened the second half in bold style. A View from the Dock was good, but the judge would have requested greater brevity. Fresh back on the Brum poetry scene after her stay in Syria, Elisabeth Charis lay down a distinctive and impressive marker of poetic intent, her extended piece on the sexualisation of young girls, and ill-judged female aspiration, was in the best feminist traditions, but inclusive with it, carrying everyone with her in a fine piece. Ronnie Dawsey has a catalogue stretching back fifty of her seventy years. Wisely, she eschewed tales of the good old days in favour of Randomness and Without a Door a bawdy and humorous tale which went down well. Amy Rainbow, fresh from her triumph at the Malvern Slam, closed the open mic section in barnstorming style. She combines a reserved, controlled presence, more usually associated with the High Table at a Dons Dinner, with an acid tongue more commonly associated with the ladies toilets in a nightclub at 2am. Taunting suitors, rejecting marriage proposals, and demanding commitment is all in a day’s work for Amy, great fun.

Hit the Ode returns on 24/11 with Matt Harvey, broadcaster host of Wondermentalist, and toast of the broadsheets, headlining. He is joined by the feisty, sassy and flamboyant Catherine Brogan from Ireland in what is sure to be a brilliant night- arrive early.

Gary Longden 27/10/11

This was the last Shindig of 2011,and served as a launch for Hearing Voices Vol 4 ,the house magazine of co-promoters Crystal Clear Creators. I have had the pleasure of attending each event this year and it goes from strength to strength. Very well attended, it is defined by the quality of the floor readers as much as the headliners. Normally the floor readers are in awe of the headliners, here the headliners exchange anxious glances as the rest perform! The standard is further enhanced by the device of a two minute curfew for the floor, which was uniformly and courteously observed. This has the effect of ratcheting up the standard still higher, as hugely talented individuals offer up only their best work.

It is rare indeed for performers to eschew the need to offer translations of Latin, yet instead to worry as to whether others will correct their Latin pronunciation. At Shindig that is the way it is. This unashamed pitch at excellence works well, bringing out the best in everyone. For it is about excellence, not elitism, with young students and the less experienced encouraged and welcomed.

The first half was promoted by Nine Arches Press with Matt Nunn overseeing proceedings. First headliner was Mal Dewhirst, of Polesworth Poets and Fizz fame, who covered much poetic ground in his set. He name-checked the Pitmen Poets, and Alfred Williams, the Hammerman (Railway) poet, whilst sharing with us an innovative layer poem based around an archaeological dig which can be discovered, and read, different ways depending upon which layer you approach it from- innovative stuff. Mal has a strong sense of place in his work which physically manifests itself in the Polesworth Poetry Trail in which he has been so dynamically involved and from which he read Kites.

Closing the first half was Nine Arches press Editor Jane Commane who clearly relished the chance to perform her own work for a change rather than sorting out the work of others. She has a pleasing light touch with her poetry of the everyday , whether it be music, road by-pass protestors or gasbagging.

The second half was lead by Crystal Clear Creators impresario Jonathon Taylor who also performed a poem of his own, Neutron Star, which I found quite profound. His first headliner was Charles Lauder Jnr, from San Antonio ,Texas by birth, but now resident in Leicestershire by choice. I enjoyed him very much. His languid drawl from the Deep South complimented his writing perfectly. He also offered my favourite poem of the evening about the Stone Circles of Keswick, and the legend that they are wizards turned to stone for some transgression by the gods. Whether it was the simple pleasures of Coffee ,or the more demanding task of Finding Time about Einstein’s Theory of relativity, Charles was a stimulating and entertaining reader.

The closing headliner was Wayne Burrows, a distinguished literary figure ; editor, reviewer, poet and lecturer. In addition to bearing an uncanny resemblance to Mani, of Primal Scream and Stone Roses fame, he was also brimful with ideas. The music connection must have influenced him subliminally, for he visited translations of 1960’s pop songs performed by young Czech and Polish girls even though he speaks no Czech or Polish………. Great fun, and very entertaining. I have never thought of doing a poetic sequence on Apples, but Wayne has, which was lyrical and pastoral, his sonnet sequence on impending economic doom was atmospheric and portentous.

Doing justice to the floor readers for the night would be impossible, such were the riches on offer , so I shall not attempt it. Instead I give mention to two performances which delighted me .Mark Goodwin’s poetic account of climbing Cader Idris with his two year old daughter on his back, and the balance that was required to execute the task, was as beautiful and breathtaking as the views there. Deborah Tyler-Bennett’s two poems from The Ladies of Harris’s List, an 18th century guide to whores evoked a wonderful sense of time and place as well as being exquisitely written.

Shindig will be unwrapping its presents in December so next meets on Mon 30th Jan, 2012. Hearing Voices Vol 4 is available from Crystal Clear Creators, and myself.
24/10/11

http://www.crystalclearcreators.org.uk/
http://www.ninearchespress.com/

It was fitting that Behind the Arras should make the effort to attend this Slam as the Youth Centre has closure hanging over it, to be determined on the 24th November, further evidence of the corrosive effect these harsh economic times are having on community facilities and the Arts. A full house turned out to support organisers Dee and Caitlin for a night of poetry boasting a particularly high standard. The convivial bonhomie in the bar beforehand was reflected in the competition after, one of respect and good humour.

Thirteen poets did battle over three rounds with Dee oiling the wheels, and offering a few poetic bon mots himself. An intriguing aspect of this slam was the diversity of performer, and performance, with unusually, the majority having notes as a prompt. Many Slams feature performers who eschew notebooks, sheets of paper or, (if you are lucky) a copy of a book of their printed work. I am never quite sure why. Poets are poets, not actors, and there is no requirement to have learned everything by heart,even though the freedom of movement and enhanced eye contact which a recited poem affords is undeniable.

The opening round didn’t have a dud in it, but Bill Thomas, Lydia Davis, Sarah Tamar, Ally Oxterby, Catherine Crosswell and Jezz were cruelly axed by the heartless judge as the competition requires. Sarah Tamar performed a defiant, overtly political piece Thatcher’s Legacy , and Catherine Crosswell, one of my favourite poets, spoke of baking cakes in a way that only Catherine can. Bill Thomas, a secondary school teacher ruminated on Kitchen Appliances whilst Jezz opted for a brilliant discourse on the problems of being an Rural MC, and the struggles that Snoop Doggy Dogg never has to face – like sheep.

Audience participation was a prominent feature at this Slam with no fewer than three of the six semi finalists using the device. Heather Wastie’s Halloween Nightmare chorus worked the best in the first round and was seasonally timeous .The nursery rhyme innocence, intertwined with malevolent intent, is a winner. Tim Cranmore disarmed us in the first round with a pastoral piece about the river Severn. Then cut loose with the Armageddon laden Where is God in the second round complete with ensemble requiring chorus. Tim is a compelling, powerful performer, and he delivered this piece with a zeal that judge John Hathorne from Salem would have been proud of. I liked it.

Girolamo Savonarola (21 September 1452 – 23 May 1498) was an Italian Dominican Friar, Scholar and an influential contributor to the politics of Florence from 1494 until his execution in 1498. He was known for his book burning, destruction of what he considered immoral art, and what he thought the Renaissance which began in his Florence—ought to become. He preached vehemently against the moral corruption of much of the clergy at the time. His main opponent was Rodrigo Borgia, who was Pope Alexander VI from 1492, through Savonarola’s death in 1498. As such, he is not an obvious choice for a call and response performance poem – unless you are Peter Wyton. The chorus, a reprise of the said Friar’s surname ,was chanted to the tune popularised by the television advert exhortation to ,“Bring out the Branston”. Hugely entertaining, I am not sure what it all meant though ……………………………………

Defending Champion Adrian Mealing spoke of bikes in the first round, and Dr Fox in the second. Not the ex Radio One DJ you understand, instead the ex Defence Minister. Poetry, like cartoons, has the capacity to cut the pompous and self righteous down to size. Adrian achieved this with some style, but sadly it was not enough to take him through to the final this time.
Dan Jukes, revealed to me over a beer afterwards that he is an occasional poetry performer, which is a shame, because tonight he shone and excelled, right through to the final. His style is quick fire, staccato and witty, with shades of Michael Barrymore, but without the swimming pool. Normally I tire of dyslexia poems, but in the hands of Dan it works , cleverly intertwining song titles as well without allowing the familiar lines to detract from the poem itself. His closing “list poem” It Might Be Good in Theory was yet another triumph of artistic ingenuity over a well worn format, but not even that was enough.

Amy Rainbow is quite a talent, she combines the on stage authority of a Headmistress with the mischief of a St Trinian’s schoolgirl. She is largely still during delivery, apart from a penetrating look to ensure that her audience is both listening closely ,and getting the jokes – she need have worried in neither regard tonight. Self Mastery had a killer pay-off line, I Don’t stands as one of the best poems of poetic misandry I have ever heard, and The C Word is destined to catch the audience out every time. Amy was a worthy winner, and although the culling process en route can be a harsh affair, the two best performers on the night invariably make the final as was the case here.

And so, with the cheers of acclamation ringing in Amy’s ears, the evening came to a close .If the centre fails to beat closure I am sure there will be no shortage of alternative venues keen to host this fine event in the future. Organisers Dee and Caitlin are also promoting Ian McMillan at the Coach House Theatre, Malvern this Friday 27th October.

Gary Longden 22/10/11

The upstairs function room at The Station has recently been refurbished with the stage extended, a lighting rig installed, and the sound system upgraded. As a consequence the calibre of production possible at the venue has improved and is able to attract plays and actors such as was on offer on the opening night of The Opus Theatre Company’s “Confessions of Honour”. Although it has played in London’s West End at the Jermyn Street Theatre, it is highly appropriate that it should also appear locally, as the setting is nearby Whittington Barracks, home to the Staffordshire Regiment.

The Stafford’s themselves have a rich history including the distinction of having served abroad for the longest ever tour – 57 years in Antigua! A distinction which probably merits a story all of its own, but that is not where this tale finds its drama. Instead it is in the story of Frederick Salisbury, who is waiting to hand over the Victoria Cross he won in the Second World War to his old regiment. There is to be a ceremony, a march past, and a glittering dinner in the mess. One of the guests though, is an old German soldier who seems to know rather more about the VC, and Fred , than he expected and has a secret Fred would rather not hear.

It is written and directed by Rugeley actor and playwright Gerry Hinks (Rev Graham Broadbent in Coronation Street), who also stars as Wolfgang Meissler , the mysterious guest in this three hander. The plot, on a single set, skilfully unfolds in intriguing, and hugely enjoyable, style. Salisbury is played by Keith Minshull, whilst Alison Joynes plays the part of Sgt Major Karen Baker who is hosting her distinguished retired Regimental colleague.

The opening is a fond trip down memory lane for an old soldier with the differences between Army life now, and then, affectionately lampooned. As the official proceedings draw nearer the script shifts a gear as courage and decoration are explored, before Wolfgang Meissler appears, a man with a secret. The suspense of that secret is worked till it is wrung dry, before the story shifts into top gear for the conclusion.

Well cast, the characterisation is a delight. Salisbury is the reflective reluctant hero, but proud with it. Baker the kindly window on a modern Army, yet as steeped in tradition and service as her guest of honour. Meissler is mysterious and Teutonic, a stereotype – but with a twist.

Hinks’s writing neatly captures and combines the mood of old soldier’s reminiscences, with accurate historical references such as the origins of how the Victoria Cross itself is cast. Thoughtful, wry, amusing and often poignant, yet never overly sentimental, “Confessions of Honour” is a little gem which plays for a second night at the Station PH on 20th October, 7.45pm, tickets available on the door.

Gary Longden 19/10/11