The reading yesterday in Leeds was interesting. It was lovely to hear George Szirtes albeit a little too briefly. He is witty, warm and wise, with a charming slight squint, and read with mastery and gravitas from his vast oeuvre. He read powerfully from his translation of the enormously long poem One Sentence On Tyranny, by Hungarian poet Gylua Illyes, another part of which is featured on his blog. And from his own The Burning of the Books. He brought a welcome stillness and depth to the proceedings after the fire and speed of Clare Pollard and Clare Shaw, the pain and passion of Lily Mosini. Great to see Clare P, to hear her read after being taught by her in 2009, and her poem The Skulls of Dalston almost had me in tears, but sadly she didn't seem to see or hear me as I greeted her when she walked past my seat towards the end of the interval, and I ended up feeling a bit invisible and silly.
If you click the link and visit GS's excellent blog you will learn more about the event, which was essentially a benefit for Iranian poet Lily Mosini and her partner Elia who are threatened with deportation.
The Carriageworks is a striking venue, part of the massively expensive Electric Press development in Millennium Square - using an old printing works and 'carriage manufactory' to house a theatre, an enormous number of bars and restaurants, and, somehow in the middle of it all, an outdoor ice rink, which could be observed surreally from the Carriageworks bar. The meeting room where the reading took place may have been the least striking part of the venue however. It was overheated, overlit, and the evening was accompanied by the constant background babble of Saturday night voices from the bars and ice rink. Still, a powerful occasion, and money was raised for Lily and Elia's legal defence through ticket sales, a raffle and an auction of for example a pair of Simon Armitage's Levi 501s with a poem written in the pocket.
1 comment:
Thanks for the report.
I hate those moments, they make me feel like I want to go away and be a hermit and not chance my arm with the world again. Perhaps that's what happened...
Actually though, some people, a good friend of mine included, are a bit distant and can come across as ignorant in that way when they're performing. I know she's not really like that, so it doesn't bother me too much when she does it, but I know she's hurt other people and pissed them off at those times. It's an object lesson to try to be kind and attentive and mindful towards people as much as we can, I s'pose.
I look forward to reading at GS's blog.
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