Sight Specific – Art and Storytelling

23rd October

With Manchester Art Gallery’s collection comprising some 25,000 items spanning 600 years of culture, there is plenty of inspiration to be found at the Mosley Street venue. Saturday’s event saw students of the University of Manchester’s Centre for New Writing presenting poetry and stories responding to paintings and objects located in four of the Gallery’s impressive rooms.

Simon Haworth gave the first reading of the hour-long morning tour. Responding to Dutch Baroque painter Quirijn van Brekelenkam’s Interior with a Lady Choosing Fish (1664), his poem eloquently conveyed the imagined thoughts of a woman depicted in the domestic scene. Simon’s original poem was accompanied by a reading and synopsis of the verse of Northern Irish poet Derek Mahon, a source of particular influence in his studies.

Moving from the 17th Century into the Pre-Raphaelite Gallery, there were prose contributions from Reshma Ruia and Beth Daley in response to John Frederick Lewis’s The Coffee Bearer (1857) and John Everett Millais’s Autumn Leaves (1856). Reshma told a bold tale in language of biblical expressiveness, weaving an account of an incident in the life of the coffee bearer into the story of the Crucifixion. Kate’s piece centred on the imagined dialogue between the four girls shown in Millais’s sombre, supernatural painting. Drawing on the girls’ apparent isolation from each other, Kate provided an interesting viewpoint on a scene interpreted as contemplating the transience of youth.

Sarah Corbett’s poem responded to the curious yet affectionately-crafted dollhouse, or rather ‘frog house’, forming part of the Mary Greg Collection in the Gallery of Craft and Design. As the Gallery guide explains, Greg appears to have been a compulsive collector, and Sarah interpreted the labour of love that was creating the bizarre diorama, made using real frogs, as a poem told from the perspective of Greg’s husband. Veronica Turiano’s story responded to the nearby Theatre of Life creation. With a poignant air of innocence, her narrative considered the nature of mortality through a child’s conversation with her grandfather, a relationship that Veronica had wished to write about for some time before the Art Gallery activity gave her a specific focus.

Wrapping up the tour in the Modern and Contemporary Gallery, Nicholas Murgatroyd’s story centred on the power, projection and perception of loneliness. In a tale of creeping menace, at the point of conclusion the ill-fated protagonist disappears into one of Spanish artist Juan Muñoz’s uncomfortably appealing Blotter Figures. This was an appropriate story with which to end the session, as much of it replicated the listener’s experience of a visit to Manchester Art Gallery.

Seeking not simply to describe an object or scene illustrated in a painting, through their poetry and fiction all six student writers succeeded in establishing fascinating narratives. Enabling members of the public to talk with them in the presence of their subject artworks made for a very engaging tour. Indeed, it would have been a pleasure to spend an entire afternoon in the company of the talented and inventive apprentices of the Centre for New Writing.

by David Stedman

David studied English language and literature at the University of Manchester. He is a regular contributor to Manchester’s CityLifers music website.

Giggle-inducing concoctions

21st October

“If I were a poet,” I decided whilst on the way to the MLF’s Comedy Poetry Slam last night, “today I would be an Angry Poet.”

Fuelled by the flames of a passionate rage, I’d rant and rave about the injustice, trauma and downright betrayal of my evil nemesis... namely, the 111 bus, which had been a no-show for 45 minutes, thus ensuring my late arrival at tonight’s event. Thankfully, my post-bus five-minute dash in high heels proved to be worth its crippling effect, as I leapt into the main bar of The Northern on Tib Street just as Manchester-based comedian and compère for the night, Julian Daniel, reached for the microphone.

The Northern is one of those pubs that you’ll often find participating in local festivals and events, whether it’s a meeting of digital media professionals or a performance by some up-and-coming musical talent. It’s a lovely venue, too, and Mancunian at its heart and soul, from the northern-centric playlist, to the giant portrait of Mark E. Smith on the wall of the exterior smoking area. This evening, the pub had a warm and bustling atmosphere, with a sell-out audience responding enthusiastically from the offset to Julian’s friendly banter.

Never having been to a poetry slam before, I had no idea what to expect. Thankfully, our crowd-pleasing compère Julian laid out the rules from the start. Nine budding poets had signed up to compete against each other by standing up to the mic in turn and reciting their personally penned, witty verses in an attempt to take home the booty of a small cash prize, a bottle of bubbly generously donated by The Northern, a festival T-shirt and – perhaps most importantly of all – comedic kudos for the night.

Three volunteers from the audience – or groups of volunteers, as it turned out –were handed score sheets by Julian and appointed the heady task of judging the evening’s talent on behalf of us all. Our ability to applaud and volume of laughter were conscientiously tested by Julian before contestant number one was welcomed up to the mic.

As it turned out, a well-penned tirade against the 111 bus might not have felt out of place amongst the myriad of topics chosen to be immortalised in verse by our local bards, which ranged from the soul-crippling employee regulations of call centres, to the remarkably chewy nature of suppositories.

I have to pause here to apologise in advance for the inaccuracy of any of the poets’ names, but they all deserve a mention, even a misspelt one, for their heroic and wholly entertaining participation on the night.

There was Mark Edmondson’s tragicomic tale of morbidly obese Denise and her mobility scooter; Dave Till’s hymn of praise to the exotic, amniotic delights of a well-drawn bath; Alex Keelan’s sweetly delivered satire on modern life and ‘Foetus Factor’; an enduring image from Misha Britna (on his first ever poetry slam attempt) of farting a pigeon out into the dire straits of a gale force wind; Jack Reagan’s rhythmic warnings of the perils of reading the small print in a packet of medication; Sophie Hall’s disdainful diatribe against the dastardly Davina McCall; Ben William’s dramatic despair at his discovery that the object of his affection was none other than the second female pope; Ed Kengai’s sometimes bewildering, often giggle-inducing concoction covering everything from orgies to bankers; and the winner of the night, Tony Walsh, and his confident, risqué depiction of the alcohol-fuelled decay of an office Christmas do from hell.

Julian’s banter and occasional contribution of his own poetry kept the momentum going at pace all night, while a guest performance of the superbly talented Marvin Cheeseman kept everyone in stitches during a half-time interval. If you’ve never come across his work before, I advise you to browse his website and look out for such gems as he performed on the evening as ‘Primark: the rumble in the jungle’, ‘The wholesomeness of Coldplay and their fans’ – and, of course, the short but sweet ditty that no born and bred Mancunian could resist:

We all have our dreams, and they sometimes come true:

Liverpool 1, Blackpool 2.

The mixture of structures, styles, experience and deliveries by the participating poets all added to the depth of the evening’s experience – as did some good-humoured, but heartfelt, booing at the harshness of the judges – and I left with a light-hearted (if still somewhat crippled) step, some unforgettable rhymes ringing in my head and (courtesy of Tony Walsh’s final poem on the triple evils of sex, the internet and confectionary) a vision of the possible uses of Monster Munch that I never want to sully my imagination with again *shudders*.

Rowena Forbes is a freelance copywriter, editor and journalist who dabbles in short stories and might even consider penning a poem or two in the future, once she gets over her foolish fuss about the 111 bus.

Uberto Stabile – revealing truth in the world he sees

21st October

I’m at the Instituto Cervantes of Manchester to hear Uberto Stabile talk at Manchester Literature Festival. I’ve heard his name before but know little about him. The translator sits in the transparent corner booth. You can hear her smack her lips in anticipation, gulping water anxiously. I feel important with my wireless headset on, writing notes on the little pop-out desk. From him to her to me to paper.

Uberto’s talk charts his life as a writer, poet and literary promoter. His poems, he says, are related to his environment and reality; it’s his way of revealing truth in the world he sees. So his talk is as much about Spain as it is about him. The tale of its transition from democracy to emancipated creative hub to debt-ridden capitalist state, is told by a man who is affected by the big picture, who cares deeply for people, and is compelled to make voices heard.

Born in Valencia in 1959 he was a teenager when Franco was overthrown. This is his generation’s great symbol; to be born under a dictator and be emancipated at the moment they needed it most. And yet they entered a world without the institutions we take for granted. State censorship had throttled Spanish literary culture to near death, banning books and preventing translations of foreign work. They entered a cultural void, with no one to look up to, with no precedent.

Spain’s economic decline in the mid-seventies after the death of Franco and the petrol crisis of 1975 made the transition from dictatorship to democracy a turbulent one. The first poem he reads us, Too Early, references the instability of the time:

‘It is raining / and the rain wet the washing we hung out yesterday / and it is pointless to bring it in / as pointless as to go to work / or to go out to buy some bread without money.’

Despite massive unemployment and a decade-long recession, the ‘80s was a productive time for Spanish writers as they organised themselves to publish their work. Photocopied and stapled they found a DIY solution that grew slowly in strength and numbers. Networks slowly became established across Spain, publications printing each other’s contact details at the back.

He compares Spain’s 80s with our 60s, a time of social and cultural experimentation and diversification, best illustrated by Madrid’s hedonistic ‘La Movida’ (Groove) scene. The cartoon gained greater credibility as a dynamic and socially critical art form. The debate over the Spanish identity opened up as suppressed regional accents and languages pushed for their place in mainstream society.

‘La Movida’ does little change gender relationships and imbalances however. He reads us And Then Tell Me That You Love Me, a poem he wrote after the 59th death from domestic violence in the year he wrote it:

‘You will have the right to vote / You will rent video / You will sleep alone / You will wonder about me / You will know how to cry when I forgive you… / …and then, tell me that you love me’

After finishing his degree in Art History in Valencia, Uberto ran a bookshop and continued his work publishing and promoting young and talented writers. But the ‘90s sees a political shift as the push for social freedom is replaced by the pursuit of wealth. Credit is easily available and debt builds as people pursue lifestyles they cannot afford.

I miss the political reference in the next poem, Spain is doing well, but I gather it refers to a statement by a prominent Spanish politician in the ‘90s. It mocks the superficial evaluation of Spain’s success despite a deep deficit, massive unemployment and record private debt:

‘”Spain is doing well...” / its economy, its bigot / its two million people out of work / and its lack of memory / even my watch’s well stopped / ...doing well / The press, the Banks, /mobile phones, / the deficit, Iberia, football, / the blank and yellow waves / the great public holiday / it goes well like this... on its own and without ice.’

Keeping up with the translator is hard as she stops mid-sentence adjusting her words, slowing and catching up. This is quite different from Uberto, who speaks in a constant expert tone with his soft Spanish drawl.

But the message is clear: Uberto believes in the written word and the need for voices, many voices, speaking about what they see and hear. At the heart of it is the essential need for reflexivity in a society, though the voices needn’t speak loudly. He speaks excitedly about the opportunities the internet presents in establishing new literary magazines and journals across the latin world. Diversity is essential and small publishers like him are essential to real democracy. They keep niche intellectual discussions running for when they’re needed; for when a society lapses into premature self-congratulation or stagnates into monoculture. You need the people at the fringes to remind us of what the complex truths are at the heart of identities led astray.

Or at least that’s what I reckon he means. I’d taken my headphones off a few minutes ago to rest my ears from the translator. Uberto reads his last poem, Gillespie Says. I miss the context but the end reads well:

‘Gillespie says that / it is not a finished man / the man that is finishing / that the ending never replaces then end, / because actually / Gillespie says that / Parker says to him / that Cortazar told him / that instead of making love / It’s about time for love to make us.

by Peter Stanners

Peter is a freelance writer and photographer with bases in Manchester, UK, and Copenhagen, DK. You can find out more about him here

An intriguing collaboration of illustrator, animator and writer

20th October

The Cornerhouse on Oxford Road provided a secluded location for the launch of the new 7x7 anthology, divulging an intriguing collaboration of illustrator, animator and writer.

The evening promised insightful interviews with the participants; a mixture of MMU Cheshire writing talent and Stockport College student artists, all introduced by Robert Graham, the programme leader for the Creative Writing BA over in Crewe. The main event consisted of intimate readings by the writers and the display of animations and artwork that really added a hidden depth not often glimpsed at by readers of fiction, all within the low-hung rafters of the Annexe room.

Following on from the assured success of last year’s 6x6, it was time to take it up a notch (just numerically, don’t worry it wasn’t ridiculously intense) and present 7 writers' creative input with artistic collaborators material like a tasty side dish complementing a filling main course of fictional delight.

Anna Paldanius kicked off the evening with a delicate slice of seduction in her piece, Music Box Ballerina, that carefully described a moment of noir infused passion between a man and a woman, all against the backdrop of a hidden musical score and uncontrollable desire. Anna related her writing to ‘crafting a sculpture’ following the reading and we also got to hear off the illustrator and animator, Chris Howker and Kirsty Newman who worked well together apart from what sounded like an all-nighter to get the material finished.

A lighter-hearted look at being ‘on the pull’, entitled Something Dark and Purplish by Vincent Crimi, was well received and explored the perspective of a character named Jason, considered by the author to be the underdog and totally at odds with his loud, social surroundings. The piece was very entertaining – Jason’s straight to the point, logical musings put the club scene in a sobering perspective and revealed the innocent feelings of a man pouring his heart out at exactly the wrong moment. Jane Richardson and Joanna Brown provided artistic back up.

In the absence of Jennifer Guillard (since she was abroad at the time), Robert Graham stepped in to the fray to deliver her work, entitled A Soft Touch. Many lines brought back images from my own university attendance in Crewe, especially the night club ‘Steam’, which definitely seemed more dilapidated last time I visited. The story itself revealed the hospitality and affection of the Polish population of Crewe some of which I have to say I have witnessed myself in my three years there (apart from the thick hairy legs…did not see that coming). Entertaining visuals were skilfully provided by Nikki Denton and Stephen Brown.

Another absentee, Joanne Key, asked fellow student Angi Holden (who also read her own piece later) to deliver her work entitled When One Door Closes. The extract was a very real, touching account of a struggling relationship coping with the early arrival of a newborn baby, and how the emergence of a new life can make priorities turn on their head. At one point the mother, Kate, is clinging to life after delivering the baby premature due to complications, “As soon as her eyes were shut the view was immaculate. She sailed through the blackness”, beautifully summing up birth, life and death in two short sentences. Gemma Beaven and Katy Anne Jones provided intriguing artwork that did a good job of highlighting the mother’s loneliness at birth and turning to religion that is a focal point of the story.

The most bizarrely original title fell next, A Conversation with Quetzalcoatl, and was made softly verbal by author Johnny Carrington. The story seemed to blend present and past revolving around the thoughts of an aging woman whose fears of losing her mind are quickly becoming a reality as her imagination takes over. It works to the text’s advantage that its conversations and fantastical thoughts are mixed up in an almost insane potion that leads to a strange outcome that has to be deciphered by looking beyond the looking glass. Illustrative support was provided by Liz Parker and Jane Harrison who upon being interviewed explained it was interesting working with ‘Lotharios’.

Angi Holden returned to provide a reading of her own work this time, entitled Continental Drift, a tale of a woman who is house sitting for her parents who are on a cruise, who then proceeds to get a knock at the door from another woman claiming to have the same father. It tackles the subject of family relationships, war turning families upside down and men often leading mystery lives abroad, and how the repercussions of these secrets make themselves apparent years later; two lifelines colliding like ships in the ocean. Angi delivered her piece clearly and concisely, the extract she gave leaving the audience wanting to discover the rest of the story. When she was interviewed she added that the characters she creates tend to have a life of their own and interestingly decide what they want to do in the story – even the writing of it is a story! The illustrators, Beverley Gartside and Janet Kershaw, further commented that it was challenging working with the models that seemed in the visual piece to be stop-motion animated and added a welcome dimension to the text.

Robert Graham had the final word, explaining that the event a ‘win win’ for writers, illustrators and animators given they got to see there work shown in public, gain experience of the creative process and gain support from a large group of friends and family given the amount of people that participated. He also commented regarding the Literature Festival itself, that the events seem to be getting more versatile every year, and it is a great pleasure to be posted on the same bill as such famous, published authors such as Seamus Heaney, Val McDermid and Grace Nichols. Personally I found being in the room with up and coming talent and hearing interesting, original stories accompanied by illustrations and animations quite an uplifting experience, which will hopefully lead to individual successes for the guys involved.

by Rob Bester

Rob is a freelance writer based in Manchester, currently studying an MA in Creative Writing at MMU. He spends his time writing short stories, a crime novel based in Manchester, material for a local student magazine, blogging at freshscribble and taking many trains in between.

Magma is a hot ticket for poets and poetry fans

20th October

I have it on good authority that certain factions in the poetry world can be a little, shall we say, unapproachable. The editors and writers of the poetry quarterly Magma couldn’t be further from this description. A very smiley Clare Pollard briefly explains the purpose of the magazine – to support and publish new as well as established poets – and encourages any writers in the audience to submit work for consideration.

She then welcomes Jacqueline Saphra to the “stage” with a précis of Jacqui’s poetic career: her award wins include first prize in the Ledbury Poetry Competition and her collection The Kitchen of Lovely Contraptions (Flipped Eye) follows the pamphlet Rock’n’Roll Mamma (Flarestack). We are treated to seven very varied pieces, from the short and sweet My Mother’s Vocation (humorously rhyming “parts”, “hearts” and “foreign tarts”) to the slightly longer ode to “tall as totems” asparagus, Last Harvest. She also reads Seventeen And All That Shit, a piece about perceived ugliness that appears in the November issue of Magma Poetry, tying into its theme of beauty.

Next up is Alan Buckley, working towards his first collection after Shiver (the tall-lighthouse) was named the Poetry Book Society pamphlet choice for summer 2009. He opens with Peaches, which has already appeared in Magma and includes some lovely language; “doped with syrup” one such example. A second Magma appearance is Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which Alan explains, in one of many snippets of anecdotes, is a found poem (this one from the blurb on the back of a DVD boxset).

The third reader is lecturer Sarah Jackson, who gives us Vanishing Twin from her pamphlet Milk (Pighog Press), shortlisted for the prestigious Michael Marks Award last year. I really enjoy the incredible imagery of Clam, rustled up during a writing retreat in Scotland, particularly the line “snapping the clams like children clapping”. The more recent It Shined, written while on holiday in Brittany, she divulges, is rather more disturbing, as is the similarly grammatically challenged (a current obsession for Sarah) The Most Quiet, although the wordplay here keeps it from being too intense.

Clare Pollard (herself a distinguished poet, with three collections through Bloodaxe under her belt, including Look, Clare! Look!) returns to the front of the bright and airy new Cornerhouse Annexe (a sorely needed space and much used since its opening) to discuss Magma Poetry further with co-board member Jacqui and to field questions from the floor.

The MLF events I've squeezed into so far (packed houses all round) have incorporated as much fascinating production detail as they have incredible reading, and this was no exception. We discovered that the magazine was the result of a night class and is run as a collective, with a board and rotating editors, all volunteers. This helps keep the project fresh and provides different voices, different angles and different opportunities each edition for budding contributors. “We’re a broad church,” says Clare and indeed the March issue, edited by Julia Bird, takes the theme “knock it down”; Clare has picked “journeys” to guide the one she helms for June. The magazine relies on submissions, of which it receives a staggering 2,500 at each foray, and, to stand out from the crowd, Clare suggests being arresting, entertaining and amusing. “I like a joke,” she laughs, and we all join in, much enthused by how down-to-earth the approach taken by the team behind this leading literary tome is.

by Sarah-Clare Conlan.

Sarah-Clare is a freelance writer, editor and press officer. She is the co-creator of Ask Ben & Clare, author of the award-winning Words & Fixtures, and regular contributor to Manchester Blog Awards 2010 Best New Blog 330 Words.