In Italy the heatwave continues. It's made it hard to find the energy to write, so that anything I've produced in the past month has emerged very slowly, and I'd like to say thoughtfully. But mainly just slowly.
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I spent a contemplative weekend at Ledbury Poetry Festival, immersing myself in poetry events, performing one of my poems at the launch of Adam Horovitz's gorgeous, sappy, botanical anthology 'The Physic Garden' (available from Palewell Press - follow the link)... ... then hiding (in a park, or at my comfortable, secluded B and B - Harlequin-Ledbury, recommended!) to think and write... for me a perfect combination. One of my highlights was a little exhibition of artists' books (Ledbury Book Arts) where I discovered the book art of Anthony Bateman. Anthony told me he is proud to live next door to John Masefield's childhood home, and he's made a beautiful art book from an edition of Masefield's work. Turning the pages with delight, I came upon the opening of Masefield's poem 'Tewkesbury Road', and was thrown straight back to childhood, to the first poems that moved me. I still carry in my head lines and phrases from this poem, learned by heart at primary school: 'the shy-eyed delicate deer', 'the dear wild cry of the birds'. I suspect that traces of Masefield's rhythms and images linger in my own writing. I also loved the way the whole town seemed drawn into the festival spirit, with a shop window competition, poetry chairs around the streets and free and fringe activities too throughout the weekend. I learned how to write a triolet with American poet A. E Stallings (a great teacher as well as poet; if you ever get the chance do go to one of her workshops).
I caught parts of 'Fair Field', a promenade version of Langland's 'PIers Plowman', too, brought up-to-date in anti-austerity style and performed around town and up in the Malvern Hills. I cackled with the best of 'em at Nicholas Murray's feisty 'A Dog's Brexit'. Cathartic rage! (And shades of Bulgakov?) And I carried home a pile of books for my 'to read next' shelf, from the poets I'd heard reading, too many to mention but perhaps the stand-out for me were Ana Blandiana, legendary Romanian 'Poet of Freedom' prize-winner, and Turkish/Kurdish poet Bejan Matur with her translator Jen Hadfield. These poems ('If This is a Lament') bear witness and lament without ever losing that sense of word-joy that poetry can give. Bejan's chapbook sold out before I could get to the book table - so I have it on order from the Poetry Translation Centre! I guess for some of us, a poetry festival is the equivalent of an activity holiday, doing the things we love best in a different and beautiful setting. Thanks to the Ledbury Festival, I feel very fortunate to be able to do so. Hot, hot days and nights, and the city in turmoil with terrorist events and the terrible fire in Kensington have made it impossible to celebrate this midsummer. I hope the Open Garden Squares day in Markham Square offered a small space for reflection, with leaf-poems fluttering in the gazebo and garden-lovers finding verses planted in the borders alongside the delphiniums and philadelphus. After weeks of immersion and writing, I found that the garden had inspired a surprising amount of poems, with more still at the development stage. I felt very privileged to have the opportunity to 'reside', research and write in this secret garden square - thanks to the residents, The Poetry School and Open Garden Squares. I learned a lot more about making the most of a residency. In particular, for me all the most important inspirations came from the people I met there. Chance remarks by François, the gardener, about the small treasures he has dug up in the beds over the years - a marble made of marble, a sea-washed pebble - threw me back into the historic and prehistiric past of the site where now there is a garden, little pieces of people's personal histories attached to the place... a pet bird buried under a tree, a treetop visible from a Heathrow-bound plane.
I'm also continuing work on a poem sequence inspired by the leaves I brought home, pressed and ironed to make poem leaflets. The leaves have given me a light, airy way to write; I'm still chasing them. On 1st June I started to write journal entries leading up to Sunday 18th June, when I'll be showing my work as Poet in Residence at Markham Square, Chelsea. Already the journal is starting to feel like a friend during the lonely part of the residency... sitting at my desk, pen poised, waiting to find out what it will write, wondering if there will be anything good enough to display in the garden...I guess we'll see!
The magical garden in Markham Square, Chelsea, where I'll be poet in residence this June, was in my mind today as I visited Casa dell'Abate Naldi, a beautiful courtyard in San Quirico D'Orcia, open today as part of the ADSI open gardens scheme. This is a very special space hidden in the heart of the village, loved by its gardeners and owners, open today to visitors and filled with flute music, thanks to visiting flautist Katrina Emtage from Ireland. It made me think more about the special qualities of a town garden; here in the Val D'Orcia we're surrounded by nature and all the flowers and vistas of May, yet in this small enclosed courtyard there was something different. The season came to a momentary rest inside the walls. https://twitter.com/OpenSquares, #MixedBorders, The Poetry School, ADSI |
AuthorI like what Franz Kafka said: Archives
October 2023
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