Tag Archives: festival

Artwords Open Mic – You’re Meat, Book

5 Oct

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Yesterday evenings lively and well-attended Artwords Poetry Open Mic festival special opened with a story from festival organiser Hilda.

Donned in her Mabel Watson persona accompanied by Barry ‘the teeth’ Dicks she megaphoned poetry at Sascos’ Cafe in Swindon’s Brunel Shopping Centre that afternoon. Apparently this was too subversive for the security guards who refused to allow them out into the precinct: ‘No poetry outside the cafe. No permission for poets in the Brunel Centre.’ Or something. So, poetry okay with tea and cake, but not other retail therapy.

First poet Bethany Pope (who will be instructing me in the way of the Sestina poetry form later today) was inspired by a death of a rat for her piece. (This is the second rat death poem today. I must write my own.) She was accompanied by the rhythmic thunder of dancers’ feet from Swindon Dance above the Central Library’s poetry space. Continue reading →

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Larmer Tree Festival – a bit muddy…

17 Jul

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So…why didn’t we put our six year old in a wet suit?

Saturday (day three of the Larmer Tree Festival near Salisbury /Shaftesbury) was the ‘All at Sea’ themed fancy dress day. So: tons of mud, sea theme and an aquarian outfit which keeps a body warm and one which can be hosed down at the end of the day. I saw one clever parent who’d thought of this which made me slap my hand on my forehead, accompanied by ‘oweeeee.’

I’d been at the festival since Thursday and my son turned up Friday afternoon. And immediately jumped up and down in the muddy gunk before scooping it up in his fingers. Sigh.

On the whole the kids loved the mud. Usually accompanied by resigned looking parents, desperately trying to keep the mud on their wellies and nowhere else.

Okay, I realise I’ve nearly got to the end and haven’t mentioned music, comedy, art or even toilets. But the mud is all pervasive. It splats and slops and it’s really hard work to walk through. Whine, whine, whine.

That’s it, enough about mud. It won’t pollute the other posts.

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Paloma Faith at Larmer Tree – Jessica Rabbit?

13 Jul

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“Marry me!” yelled an admirer of Paloma Faith, on stage last night on day two of the Larmer Tree Festival.
“What do you look like?” she replied in her little girl voice, peering into the crowd. “Oh quite handsome. What do you do?…A student? Oh dear. Come back when you’ve graduated.” Moving back from the crowd and flinging off her white stole, she added: “I’m not a gold digger. I don’t want you to be intimidated by my success.”
Charming and entertaining as well as good tunes, she glittered in a sparkly blue dress, all womanly curves. Add the white fur and flowing red hair and – a thought struck chronicler Pete – “It’s like watching Jessica Rabbit.”
She dedicated a song to hers and other people’s curves. Giving the finger – or the wiggling bum – to the red top media who have commented on her so-called weight. No complaints from the crowd or the marriage-proposing student.
…
So – day of firsts for me, chronicler Louisa:
1. First time at a full-on mud-fest. It’s like wading through chocolate.
2. First time in the ‘pit’ with proper press photographers.
3. First time it took so long to put up the tent (see point one) that Paloma Faith was the only thing I saw on my first day here. #Epicfestivalfail. We’ll never speak of it again.

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Alton Barnes White Horse illuminated for Salisbury Festival

2 Jul

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It was, commented our friends from the city, like a scene from The Wicker Man: country folk in a midsummer’s torchlit procession through the middle of nowhere to the sounds of drums and horns to set a horse on fire.

Braving wind and heavy rain, around 100 spectators trudged the mile from the village of Alton Barnes to the foot of Mark Hill – the joint-highest hill in Wiltshire at 294m – where one of the county’s eight surviving landmark White Horses has galloped in chalk for 200 years.

As darkness fell we stood, shivered and prayed to the gods, old and new, for a break in the weather while the 50-metre-long horse was illuminated: first its body in swirling patterns of brilliant white lights, and then its outline in the warm glow of yellow flame. Continue reading →

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Salisbury Festival Family Fun Day at Danebury Hill Fort

27 May

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We rocked up to Hampshire’s Danebury Hill Fort, just across the county border, with the lure of an AfroReggae Family Fun Day.

Fun. For kids. An ancient hill fort. Summer sunshine music. Sounded great. Continue reading →

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That’s all folks: Swindon Festival Finale

20 May

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I wasn’t sure what to expect from Swindon Festival of Literature’s Finale, yesterday.

I’ve developed a suspicion of cabaret-style events, because often it’s a convenient word for a hotchpotch of mismatching acts that vary in quality from bad to mediocre.

But the capacity up-for-it crowd at Swindon Town Hall told me otherwise. No cost-cutting exercises in local amateur acts, but a mixture of the best of local and national poets and performers. Continue reading →

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Is sibling sex okay? The Third Swindon Think Slam!

19 May

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Armed with my three times three minute think pieces, the Third Swindon Festival of Literature Think Slam! began.

I was one of eight contestants, ready to launch their thoughts, arguments and philosophical musings on the Swindon Art Centre audience yesterday.

And, as it turned out, hopelessly outgunned! Continue reading →

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Roman Krznaric – life inspired by history

19 May
Roman Krznaric

Roman Krznaric

Oxfam and UN advisor, tennis player, gardener and furniture-making fanatic, Roman Krznaric is the Brian Cox of philosophy, making it fun and relevant.

In the first part of his event at the Swindon Festival of Literature yesterday on the curious histories of how we live, I was reminded of my first year of my degree studies. This was about the Ancient Greeks and their various types of love. How ‘love’ didn’t necessarily mean passion, and how the Greeks actually felt wary of erotic love.

Which made me think that just because we (in the English language) don’t give different types of love their own names, does this mean we don’t have similar concepts? Or does giving them their own names raise awareness, legitimise them? Raise their importance? Or is the multitasking of one word just as good? Hmmm.

And here’s a ‘did you know’: the Eros statue in London’s Piccadilly Square is not the god of romance at all. Nope, it was erected (snigger) as a monument to his twin brother Anteros, the god of requited love and also known as the Angel of Christian Charity.

Ahha! I see what you’re doing there, Swindon Festival of Literature. I’m founding out things and getting a bit of mental exercise. Mission accomplished. Continue reading →

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Heated debate at Swindon Poetry Sunday

13 May

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 There are many sides to that thing we call ‘poetry’.

There’s the performance poetry of the Slam!. The poetry of the nursery rhyme. The poetry of hip hop and the singer-songwriter, the folk singer, the hymn. The limerick, the nonsense poem, the psalm, the sonnet and the haiku. Poetry of strict form and poetry of tradition. The poetry of the streets and the poetry of abstract concepts.

Some people don’t call themselves poets. They label themselves spoken word performers, slammers, MCs and lyricists. Continue reading →

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Chickens win the 16th Swindon Slam!

13 May

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Today I witnessed a poetry slam for the first time. I’ve been aware of them for about 13 years, so it was about time I got my finger out and went to one.

But what a great performance! Seasoned hosts Sarah-Jane Arbury and Marcus Moore have been doing this a long time – Swindon’s is the second longest running in the UK – but both are as fresh as a daisy, warming up the audience with an introductory clap along to Donna Summer’s Hot Stuff. Continue reading →

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