Garyswordz

Metro Cafe, Bilston

Held on (the somewhat hastily declared) National Cake Eating Day, it was fortuitous that Bilston Voices is held in a rather fine cafe, ensuring that the appropriate celebrations could be maximised. And it wasn’t just the cake which was good.

Organiser Emma Purshouse once again drummed up a fine collection of poets to perform to the customary full house. Either the people of Bilston work their holidays around Bilston Voices, or they just don’t have holidays. . . . . .

As a Bilston Voices regular, I have often reflected that the fine job that Emma does linking the evening denies her the opportunity to do what she does best, and that is perform her work in front of an audience.

This time the very late indisposition of a billed poet left her scrabbling around for a replacement. Who might be available who was credible, good looking, rehearsed, and able to perform at very short notice ? She wisely decided that no-one fitted that description more closely – than herself!

The result was a real treat as she waltzed through a selection of her favourite work to a delighted, and appreciative, crowd. Alice Cooper was name checked, a surreal imagined Shakespearean tirade of abuse was directed at Will himself, when his stash of Love Sonnets was discovered by Ann Hathaway in the style of the Jeremy Kyle show. A Great Classic Painters convention was lampooned, as was a country fair, the dangers of monkeys as gifts, and the perils of trying to fit Welsh place names in insurance company claims forms was also explored to uproarious effect.

KEY STAGES

Liza Minnelli had a signature song called “Liza with a Z not Lisa with an S”. Ann (with an E) Hastings cheekily stole that idea to introduce herself as she opened the evening with an assured and measured performance. On the cusp of retiring, she was well rehearsed, elegiac, valedictory and reflective as she read poems from various key stages in her life.

A University education as a mature student, flower shows, acting as a carer, and the suppression of dreams under the burden of the daily grind were all covered. The only flaw in her presentation is easily remedied, and that was that the breaks between poem and linking material were sometimes unclear, denying her the opportunity of more frequent well deserved applause.

One of the pleasures in seeing so many poetry events is watching as performers find their feet, and their voice. This is particularly true of Sarah Tamar, the self styled “ melting poet”. Her performance was as warm as the temperature, but her real trick is an easy endearing manner and tales about the world around her.

She can be touching when writing about her grandchildren, funny when talking about failed diets, and profound when talking about justice. My favourite of hers? “Eyeballing” about her confrontation with a robin!

Roy Macfarlane is coming to the end of his year now as Birmingham Poet Laureate, and has excelled in doing his office justice. A local lad from Parkfield Road, he made sure his “home credentials” had been accepted by the audience before taking us on a wonderful journey to Amsterdam and beyond.

SMOLDERING RAGE

Roy’s work comes alive when he performs, and I suspect that he is never quite sure when “lift off” will happen. This time it was in a powerful piece about the biological father that he has never known, laced with anger, smoldering rage, anguish and tragedy. It was an uncomfortable, but compelling section which drew a silence of respect, and admiration.

“Dreams of Rivers” beautifully contrasted the bleak monotony of working in a foundry with daydreams of something better, the sentimental “I Wanna Walk with You” is simply one of the best contemporary love poems I have heard.

Inviting Heather Wastie to close an evening in the Black Country is as safe a bet as Wolves inviting Steve Bull as a guest at Molineux, you can’t go wrong. And so it proved. Heather is as prolific a writer as ever, and whilst drawing upon her latest book “The Page Turners Dilemma” she also performed much fresh material.

She was afraid of the fish delivery man with, “I’m Afraid of the Fish Delivery Man” and the butcher’s with “At Knifepoint in the Butchers”, if this continues, husband Geoff will have very few food options left!

Sparsely filled shop units and dodgy PA systems at festivals all bore testament to the travails of the wandering minstrel poet, but it was her established “Ping pong Neo-natal ICU”which stood out once again as her best work. Wry, but serious, with clever use of sound, it delights with its clever word play whilst conveying the life and death nature of the surroundings.

Bilston Voices plays again on Thursday 25th August, 7. 30pm, with Martin Jones, Stuart Haycox, Marion Cockin, Roger Noons and Greg Stokes. 29-07-11.

Kitchen Garden Cafe. Kings Heath

Some poetry events eschew meetings in the summer holidays on the basis that people will be away. Other more confident promoters reason that just as many people may become free to attend who otherwise may not have been available.

Organiser Jacqui Rowe is one of the latter, and her confidence in her audience was well rewarded on a balmy summer evening with another full house. Both headline poets write page based poetry and it is gratifying to see an audience as ready to be stimulated, as entertained.

The convivial ambience of the Kitchen Garden Cafe is well suited to poetry with the audience arriving up to an hour early to enjoy soft and alcoholic drinks, snacks and good company. Indeed the poetic camaraderie is a particular feature of this event which is as much a meeting of friends as it is of poetry aficionados. Yet it is by no means cliquey, an interest shared means that people can, and do, come alone, but leave having made new friends.

Anthony R Owen topped the first half bill promoting his latest collection, “The Dreaded Boy”. Anthony’s work is stark and dark. The dreaded boy in the title refers to the boys who would deliver telegrams from the War Office during the First World War informing next of kin of the deaths of loved ones in battle.

War poetry has a noble tradition, and this is a worthy contribution to it, including work on Iraq and Afghanistan. It is seen from the perspective of civilians and women, as well as combatants. His work is not a polemic, nor is it verbose. The majority of pieces are concise and bare. The subject matter does the talking. He name checks Coventry military casualties as well as the work of Dr Karen Woo, killed whilst administering humanitarian aid in Afghanistan, to whom he dedicated “Diamonds”.

MEMORABLE IMAGERY

His art is in memorable imagery. The bloodied body of a freshly born baby is juxtaposed with the bloodied corpse of the fallen. “Clean” details the tender cleansing of a dead body in the Tigris by a grief stricken widow, of whom there are estimated to be 780, 000 in Iraq, a number roughly equal to the population of Birmingham.

Neither is an easy listen. The issue of the morality of blood spattered war games for computers is a difficult one to tackle without crass moralising, yet Anthony succeeds here too with “Realism” in which he rightly questions the lack of corporate responsibility in their promotion. Subjects like these, and those tackled in “Rwanda” are tough, but his ability to produce a memorable phrase such as in “Scent of the Sun”, about planes dog-fighting, in which he describes the skies as pallbearers, delights as well.

“The Dreaded Boy” is available from Pighog Press. ISBN 978-1-906309-17-6, £5 plus P&P.

David Calcutt topped the second half, and was introduced as a polymath poet, novelist, playwright and literary mentor. Tonight, David concentrated on the poetry, with rewarding results. In a mini personal poetic odyssey he started with “Stone”, written over 30 years ago and of uncertain origins from his first collection, “Outlaws”, before ending with a poignant selection from a current project he is working on with those living with dementia, together with John Killick, and host Jacqui Rowe. “And I Can Tell Them My Name” was particularly moving. One of ten new poems that this work has inspired.

He explained his poetic manifesto as wishing to explore the boundaries between the conscious and sub-conscious, and his exploration of Purgatory in “He is a Rider” was powerful indeed. Yet he is at his best in describing simple things with simplicity and insight. A recent workshop he had led had witnessed a herd of cattle on the move, and hitherto I had not seen the magic in cows that David had spotted. Equally his exploration of the mouth-bow as both musical instrument, and weapon of war, was innovative, and rewarding.

The open mic section boasts a formidably high standard with a palpable frisson of excitement surrounding the random draw for the order of performing amongst audience and performers alike. It is a veritable poetic smorgasbord of samples from poets, many of whom might merit a headline spot in their own right. Two contrasting, yet successful, performances caught my ear.

One of my favourite scenes from Quentin Tarrantino’s film, “Pulp Fiction”, is when Uma Thurman is revived by an adrenaline shot to the heart. Fergus McGonigal has a similar effect on an audience with his high energy / high octane performance. Punk band The Ramones used to enjoy starting their tours with a set that started out at 45 minutes long, but which they aimed to consistently reduce simply by performing the same material faster and faster.

FASHION CHOICE

And so it is with Fergus and his fantastic performance piece “Conversation”, which he has timed at 4.3 words a second, but which tonight may have broken that barrier. Exuding an ebullient demeanour, no doubt spurred by a fashion choice in shorts normally only favoured by Prep schoolboys and Gordon of Khartoum, Fergus rattled through his new crowd pleaser to the delight of all.

Broadcaster and Poet Charlie Jordan also chose words for her spot, with her evergreen “Words”. A beguiling, cerebral piece, Charlie combines the passion of a pastor, the wisdom of an university Don, and the incisive linguistic technique of a surgeon as she teases, plays and teaches, but never preaches. Fergus blinded with his dazzling verbal assault, Charlie hypnotises with the strobe like rhythm of her language and delivery. The contrasting merits of two thematically similar, but radically different presentations, is what makes an evening like this so interesting.

Michelle Crosbie was not new to me, (Behind the Arras regulars will know that I have eulogised about her fantastic performance of “O Dark Pilot Whales” at Parole Parlate), but she was new to Poetry Bites. Once again she excelled. “Apple Love Magic” was endearing, “The Fireworks of Love” a triumph of simplicity, one of those poems which makes you wish that you had written it, until you realise that you could not have done it so well.

Numerous regulars also did themselves proud. Maggie Doyle knows how to write a good performance piece, and “The Chelsea Flower Show”, was very good indeed, ”The Merry Widow” as funny as ever. Jan Watts was elegiac with “Bathroom at 38 Berkeley Rd” and naughty with “Meat and two veg Kim”, whilst Sam Hunt treated us to a very powerful “ Daddy Says”, an excerpt from her forthcoming Artsfest appearance.

Two single performances also shone. Laura Yates recited a beautiful poem about caring for elderly relations, and newcomer Liz Berry, from London, performed a fantastic piece, “The Fishwife”, from which two lines stood out, “Bare arms swayed like a forest of kelp. . . . cut from her bridal dress like from a fisherman’s net”.

Poetry Bites plays again on Tuesday 27th September, details available on the Kitchen Garden Cafe website: http://www. kitchengardencafe. co. uk/events. php?pid=main 26-07-11

Old Cottage Tavern, Burton upon Trent

BURTON is not an obvious location for a spoken word event, the natural home for which tends to be more urban areas.

But perhaps that is its secret? It draws performers from far and wide acting as a melting pot for a diverse range of poets and subjects all mysteriously mixing to produce an event which is unique, with this session stretching to three eclectic hours.

It works, and is a testimony to the skills and hard work of organiser Gary Carr. We live in uncertain times, and no event is complete without its political conscience. Andy Biddulph was happy to oblige with his trademark anti- capitalist offerings and more personal observations.

For no particular reason, the Lichfield Poets turned up in force for this evening, with no less than six of their number showing up, three of whom were making their Spoken Worlds debuts, the first was Stephanie Knipe.

Steph intrigued, then delighted the audience with a diverse set incorporating wheelie bins, bovine diseases, wine tasting, horses that don’t complete their races and, most memorably, phobias about ducks. Jan Arnold took a different tack, performing short, incisive pieces with a touch of the risqué, “The Little Black Dress”, “Sauce” and “Two Umbrellas”, the latter of which is one of the best double entendre poems I have heard in a very long time.

“Kaleidoscope” was perhaps her most interesting piece. It was introduced as a poem which had no meaning, but was really simply themed around the letter K, something that the audience subliminally heard, but not introduced. Third debutante was Brian Asbury whose seasoned stage background ensured a strong set, the highlight of which was, “The Lunar Society”.

The regular performers were equally on form, Janet Jenkins spoke movingly on domestic violence, touchingly about her “Wish List”, and came up with a cracking image of empty coat hangers as testament to a lost love. Ian Ward picked up the male/female communication theme with “Big Trouble”, whilst the irrepressible Fergus McGonigal from Worcester unleashed the quick-fire lyrically dense and extended “Conversation” in a typically humorous and sharply observed piece.

EARLY MORNING COFFEE

Fresh from his success as poet in residence at Nuneaton’s Poetry Day, Mal Dewhirst reprised all the poems which had made the day such a success, from his early morning coffee, through his search for the River Anker, culminating in his collaborative poem from which he built around words submitted to him from around the world. The following day he was to compete in a West Midlands Poetic Relay across the Midlands.

The event is part of a series of events organised in the run up to the 2012 London Olympics as part of the Cultural Olympiad, so this performance amounted to a “training run” of sorts, although hopefully the audience was more discerning than the pigeons who will be selecting the order of performance for the Relay Event!

Margaret Torr has a fine body of work behind her on pastoral themes and relationships, tonight she impressively broadened that with ”Human Kind” a refugee’s tale of savagery and humanity which was both harrowing and uplifting.

It is always a delight for events such as these to provide a platform for the serious as well as the light hearted. I always enjoy Tony Keeton’s work which tends to veer joyously from the philosophical, to the whimsical. “Question” came in the former category, and the quite brilliant “Faux” from the latter.

Gary Carr combined smooth running of the evening with his own offerings, some of which were from his recent appearance at the Buxton Slam. And it was from Buxton that Rob Stevens had travelled to deliver poetry to his usual high standard and perform a very good song about grown up children leaving home, the guitar accompaniment offering some welcome aural light and shade to a very enjoyable evening.

“Spoken Worlds” next plays on Friday 19th August at 7. 30pm. An occasional open mic event of light verse is also to be held at the same venue on the evening of Friday 12th August.

22-07-11

Station Pub, Kings Heath

Following an itinerant period, “Rhymes”, Birmingham’s longest established poetic event, has now settled on the Station as a regular venue and the traditional values which had built its original success are now much in evidence.

Three out of the four featured poets were local, the headliner was from Cambridge. The result was a good turn- out, a combination of the familiar and the new, and a satisfying evening.

First up was local student, and rising star Jodi-Ann Blickley, fresh from her recent triumph at Glastonbury. Jodi- Ann exudes a beguiling fragile, frail innocence, underpinned by a mesmerising lyricism delivered at a ferocious speed.

She writes of love, and love lost, counterpointing her youthful beauty with self –effacing uncertainty. Her tribute to her mother was heartfelt, but her most satisfying poem was a clever reinterpretation of a theme explored in Adele’s “Someone Like You” in which she imagines meeting a lover twenty years hence.

A line in which she spoke of counting her lover’s eyelashes was brilliantly, and poignantly, observed. I have followed Jodi-Ann’s performance career for some eighteen months now and she goes from strength to strength.

She is now veering into rhyming storytelling territory, which is itself no bad thing. Although I would say that her sparkling writing is sometimes submerged by the speed and pace of her delivery, sometimes a slower pace, with more pauses for the audience to savour the words, would create even greater impact.

Janet Smith was making her farewell performance before taking a holiday. I suspect that she has never paid an excess baggage penalty in her life, such is the economy of her writing, and her stripped down descriptive skills.

She is the only person whom I have ever heard agonise over the word “short” –because it is not exact enough! We started off with an examination of cities with, “Lucifer”, before heading to Scotland with, “Running”, and then taking in, “Pacific”, in an uncharacteristically longer poem.

The longer than normal tine slot suited her well, offering a context in which favourites like, “Bear”, and, “A Cry”, had even greater impact. Her poetry is always so welcome because against competition from poets offering more ephemeral topics and transient themes, she demonstrates that high quality writing always has a place on the performance circuit.

ENTERTAINING PASTICHE

Before the headliner Alan Wales treated the audience to a clever extended piece called “Under Deadwood” a witty and entertaining pastiche of “Under Milk Wood”. He combines the arch campness of Frankie Howard and Kenneth Williams, the rotten urban underbelly of the film “Twin Town” and the gentler observational comedy of Max Boyce in the manner of Mrs Williams, leaning over her garden fence while putting the washing out to gossip with her neighbour.

All of which set the stage for Fifi Fanshawe, who had travelled from Cambridge to perform. A headline act needs to be able to command the stage, and Fifi did just that. Her opening, “ I am Woman”, was a defiant tale of female snoring, farting and general bad habits which gloriously set the tone for the rest of her irreverent, and highly entertaining, set.

Janis Ian’s, tender, heartbreaking paean to teenage female angst, “At 17”, has long invited a pastiche, and Fifi did just that with, “ When I was Nine”. Having recently attended a school reunion I can vouch for the fact her poem of the same title was awkwardly accurate, but my favourite of the night was “Wardrobe”. Any man who has ever lived with a woman will have recognised their unerring ability to scan racks and drawers of clothes before pronouncing that she “has nothing to wear”.

Men smiled, women winced! Poetry when performed has to be for the audience, not the performer, and Fifi knows this with a well crafted stage persona part Victoria Wood, part Jenny Eclair part Joyce Grenfell. This was her first visit to Birmingham, I hope it will not be her last. Her website, containing information on how to buy her eponymous first CD is: http://sites. google. com/site/fififanshawe/

Lorna Meehan did her usual easy thing as MC whilst also performing the new, ” How to Swallow a Universe”, and, “All Stories are About Love”, – probably the best poem she has ever written. “Rhymes” next meets on Tuesday 20th September with David Calcutt headlining. 20-07-11