Poet on page and stage. Creator of She Grrrowls. Facilitator. Writer.
Burn After Reading / Kid Glove / Podium Poets. Writer for The Norwich Radical. Published by Nasty Little Press.
Sons and sons presents The Amphitheatre Stage. Performance time: 5-6pm.
This time last year I was performing at Larmer Tree festival, and now I’ve just come back from Latitude Festival, where I performed as part of the New Voices. It will be the first of five festivals that I will be performing at this summer, and considering how nervous I was and how surreal it seemed, it went really well.
Some of my highlights from the festival include…
FRIDAY:
Poetry: Charlotte Higgins, Talia Randal and Page Match
(I didn’t see much else but poetry this day)
SATURDAY:
Music: Catfish and the Bottlemen
Poetry: Dizraeli
Other: Josie Long
SUNDAY:
Music: Haim
Poetry: Luke Kennard and Raymond Antrobus
Other: Eric Lampaert and Sophie Wu
So, Friday I arrived at the performer campsite after taking a mini-bus after my coach and a nifty little buggy (wasn’t quite so swish on the way back). In the glorious heat, I put up my tent and made my way to the poetry stage. I got there in time to see Charlotte Higgins, another New Voices poet. I loved the way she conveyed such powerful words in her softly spoken manner, and I felt this was even stronger on her Sunday night performance as her passion permeated the audience. Next up was Talia Randal and as she spoke of journeys through London, I immediately wanted to book her for She Grrrowls.
I stepped out to watch the end of Kelis and then Crystal Fighters. I was on my own and feeling a bit lonely and anxious of what lay ahead of me. I ate a Twister lolly that was more expensive than my book, but whilst I have employment, I don’t need to worry about that. Bohdan Piasecki was next up and, being the leader of the Roundhouse Collective, I then felt at home. I stuck around for Peter Hayhoe, Raymond Antrobus and Rosy Carrick’s impromptu set (which I was really happy about, so thanks George The Poet). I saw Andy Bennett, who also made me feel at home, and he gave me his food voucher, which I later spent on chilli with Ray and Hollie McNish. My anxieties were fading away fast.
I was told that Two Door Cinema Club were replaced by Lily Allen, who had already had a secret show slot. I waited too long to find out that the rumours were true. She even did a cover of a TDCC as I was walking away. I used to like her, and I liked ‘Hard Out Here’ as a song, but I don’t think her reaction to racism criticism was positive. Also, I find the rest of the album as a whole a tad boring. But, I do kind of feel I cut my nose off to spite my face and probably would have enjoyed the set. I just feel that as horrible as it is to hear accusations of racism, it is important to engage with that criticism and be open to it,because the complexities of race are just as complex as gender and we all need to learn. Just because someone does something wrong, doesn’t mean that can’t redeem themselves. Anyway, I went back to the poetry tent and watched Andy Bennett and Attila the Stockbroker, ending with Page Match, which was all amazing fun!
Saturday I slumped on a sofa to watch Josie Long, who was brilliant, and I then headed to the Poetry Stage to catch Rebecca Goss. It was incredible to hear her poetry since reading Her Birth. I watched John Osborne‘s New Blur Album for the second time and next it was Luke Wright before me. I was hoping he would do his garage track and he did! I was next up and after expecting to see the crowd dissolve, Rosy had done a lovely job of bigging me up, and there were more people left behind than I expected. The crowd was lovely and I left the stage feeling happy. I sold two books, though when I finally managed to meet my friend despite the lack of phone signal, I was told I forgot to say exactly where I would be. This meant I didn’t meet my friend straight away; I watched Richard Marsh’s show, Wing Man, as I was compelled by the subject matter and wasn’t sure whether my friend was also still in the crowd. I made my way back to my tent, meeting Peter Hayhoe and Dan Cockrill along the way. I shall blame them rather than my brain for not seeing Conor Oberst, who I was told did Bright Eyes songs to and is one of my all time favourite musicians. Still, this is part of the whole surreal experience of Latitude as a performer.
After catching one song from Conor, I watched Chimene Suleyman and then tried to contact my friend, managing to finally get through in time for First Aid Kit. We hung out with her boyfriend and brother (who bought a book – thank you!) and we watched a bit of Bombay Bicycle Club and Catfish and the Bottlemen, who were particularly great live. We saw a bit of Damon Albarn and parted ways. I returned to watch fellow New Voices Ben Norris and Tommy Sissons, Mark Grist and Dizraeli. Ben was on form and the crowd showed their appreciation with a massive queue for his Nasty Little Intro. I had seen Dizraeli years ago, but he was truly phenomenal and his time on stage whizzed by. Beat-boxer, Reeps One ended the show and I left in the middle as the rain started to fall, and after being up talking to poets until 4am the night before, I wanted an early night (in comparison) before my Sunday set.
I wanted to see Michael Rosen, but despite being up hours before, I didn’t leave early enough and the tent was full by the time I got there. Instead I watched Eric Lampaert and Sophie Wu on the Cabaret Arena and I was glad I saw them because I loved them both. I watched RSC: Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again after seeing a bit of Selena Godden. I enjoyed bits of it, but I was insanely tired after having four hours sleep, and had my prescription sunglasses on, so I nodded off now and again. I heard other people saying they didn’t quite understand it all, so maybe it wasn’t the brief few seconds I missed before I jerked awake. It was interesting and quite poetic in its expression. I wanted to see The Molinogroup, but I ended up needing to swap signed copies with non-signed copies of my Nasty Little Intro. On my way back I caught some of the film about Amanda Palmer, which I enjoyed as I’ve loved her since The Dresden Dolls. I then saw Andy Bennett and was excited to hear some of his epic poem, to be published by Nasty Little Press. Luke Kennard was amazing to watch; at first I wasn’t sure what to expect, but he was just as entertaining on the stage as on the page. Next I saw the lovely Deanna Rodger before heading off to watch Parquet Courts who were great. So great, in fact, that a drunken man came on stage thrashing a chair to the floor, jumping around in joy, and left waving his cock at the audience. I wished I wasn’t on my own and tired and standing on the edge rather than in the mosh pit. Oh to be young. I felt very old looking at all the teenagers, despite being told on my return at Tesco in Wimbledon that I looked sixteen.
I walked over to the poetry stage via Woman’s Hour, annoyed at my disappointing noodles, but happy to catch some Roger McGough. I watched Haim who were incredible live, and got ready for my final set whilst watching Lemn Sissay and Jonny Fluffypunk from backstage. I felt nervous again, and I think I built up my expectations and left the stage not feeling as good. I didn’t get a big queue like Ben, but I hold on the the moment where one of the audience members asked for a hug, saying thank you in a way in which it was clear something I said had moved him. I clung onto that to make myself feel better about not selling as many books, not realising how much I wanted people to like me and my poetry and validate me by buying my book. I told myself that this hug was what poetry was all about (and not because he fancied me, Ben!)
I didn’t bother coming out for The Black Keys, and watched James Grady, Tim Clare, Charlotte Higgins, Ben Norris, Raymond Antrobus and Scroobius Pip. I hadn’t seen James before, so it was great to see him. I had seen part of Tim’s show, but seeing a whole hour was fantastic. I got a bit emotional at one point… strangely identifying with Tim’s anxiety but in a very different way as he is more extrovert and I’m more introvert. I’ve said Ray was one of my highlights from that day because he really stepped up the the pre-Scroobius slot and it went perfectly. We all stood up for the final act of the night and enjoyed the familiar spoken word until he was played out with ‘if you’re happy and you know it clap your hands.’ I failed miserably at talking to Scroobius Pip, unsure how to say ‘remember when I judged you at that slam…’ a story I regularly drop into conversation when the man in question comes up. Instead I spoke to some merry Northern poets, introduced myself to John Cooper Clarke, and hung out with Ben and Bodhan until I couldn’t face dancing awkwardly anymore, and had an early night at 2am.
I ended my time at Latitude with a 40 minute trek, with my camping gear, trying to find where to get my bus from. The directions were very very poor. I should have waited for a buggy and told it to take me there. I set off at 7.50am and didn’t get on the bus until 9.35am and being the last one on, they weren’t even sure if there was room. ‘Er, that’s my coach, I am getting on,’ I thought. The journey back was fine and I nodded off a bit, unable to read Caroline Bird’s beautiful poetry as I had intended. Overall, it was a brilliant weekend and couldn’t have gone much better! I was so tired each night, I even managed to sleep through thunderstorms. I am truly thankful to Luke Wright and Tania Harrison for putting me on the bill, as well as all the many poets who made me feel part of the family.
Head over to the Nasty Little Press website to buy my Nasty Little Intro for just £2, or save on postage and packaging by catching me at a festival, gig or She Grrrowls event. There are just 200 copies and both Hannah Jane Walker and Sye Sanders have sold out, so snap them up fast! I highly recommend all the others on offer as I have read them all.
On Friday I’m off to Latitude Festival to perform as a New Voice on the Poetry Stage. I’m extremely excited, and rather overwhelmed at the surreal feeling that I was at Larmer Tree Festival last year and now I’m at lots of different festivals. Teenage Carmina would be proud. Being a strange concoction of introvert + shy girl + quiet one, all my joy is naturally bobbing along with a undercurrent of nervous anxiety. Poets are generally lovely though, so hopefully I’ll be okay and not have to rely too much on the magic fridge I’ve been told about.
On my return I will be collaborating with Not So Popular on the next She Grrrowls event at Blessings in Shoreditch on Wednesday 23rd July. We have Hannah Chutzpah, Selina Nwulu, Amy Acre, Kemi Taiwo, Prudence Chamberlain, Eley Williams and more.
Saturday 19th July: 2pm
Sunday 20th July: 8.30pm
I’m thrilled to announce that this July I will be publishing a mini-book of work as an part of the ‘Intro’ series with Nasty Little Press. In 2011/12 I completed an MA in Creative Entrepreneurship (aka Survival Guide for Artists) and one of the goals I wrote done specified getting a pamphlet published by Nasty Little Press, so… two years later, life feels pretty unreal right now. The books have just come through for me to number and sign – they are a limited edition print of 200 and cost just £2 and will be available to by online and in person.
Under the ‘Stage’ section of goals in my Arts Plan, after ‘organise my own series of poetry events’ was ‘perform at Latitude’. Through dreaming big and planning pragmatically, I am slowly making steps with my ambitions.
So, this summer I am extremely excited (and a bit terrified) to be performing at a total of four festivals. First up is Latitude, where I will be performing a mixture of old and new work as a New Voice at 2pm on the Saturday, and 8.30pm on the Sunday on the Poetry stage. Since winning the 16-25 category of Poetry Rivals, I will also be performing an hour long set at Secret Garden Party at 5pm on the Sunday at the new Amphitheatre stage. Everyone is free to come and go within that hour (except my boyfriend).
Then I’ll be heading to Camp Bestival and Bestival as part of Roundhouse Poetry Collective of 2013-14. This was also listed in my Arts Plan as a goal. At Camp Bestival the collective will performing on Guardian Literary Institute stage (5-6pm) and The Den Stage (Saturday 11am-12pm), and at Bestival you will find us in the The Amphitheatre. Although only a couple of poets photographed on the websites are actually in the collective, we will soon be officially launching ourselves out there, equip with a new name, and hopefully some promotional photographs. We will be performing our final showcase at the Roundhouse on Wednesday 20th August.
I got an offer in Time Out for half price tickets to the Covent Garden Comedy Club. The tickets said that the nearest station was Covent Garden; I clearly should have done some research, because it was actually Charing Cross, so we ended up a few minutes late. At the stage, although the host wasn’t Sally-Anne Hayward as advertised, he seemed okay. However, as the night went on his humour jarred with me, until the cresendo of his domestic violence joke. It wasn’t so much the fact that his wife is a black belt in karete and that he chose to use this anecdote (if it was even true), but the way he said it was simply not funny. ‘She was asking for it,’ is not funny when it is a reality that victims stuck in abusive relationships get that message in a serious context, where men are, in most cases, the perpetrator.
On reflection, the first act of the night, Geoff Norcott, was my favourite from the night. When his name was announced, I got out my notepad and made a note of his name. I hadn’t intended to write a blog post about this night, but after such a contrast of humour and… rubbish jokes… I felt compelled to do so. Maybe due to the fact I’m currently reading Americanah. Norcott managed to discuss matters of racism and sexism with intelligence, and his commentary on human relationships managed to stay human. The part dealing with relationships between men and women was relatable, without being offensive; I started off thinking he was wrong about generalising the way women apologise, but it then got me to reflect and I found myself laughing along. Not only that, but it was funny. I thoroughly enjoyed his segment of the evening and it set a positive vibe, which sadly wasn’t kept up by the rest of the lineup.
After a break, there was a section of two comedians. One of the names wasn’t on the lineup, but he had a posh accent and reminded me of a mix between David Mitchell and Matt Berry. His act was hit-and-miss, but the most memorable part (which I really appreciated as an Academic Mentor) was the reference to a semi-colon. I think much of the reason I didn’t like his act was due to its defence of smoking, and the fact I am becoming less and less tolerant of smokers. That said, there were some funny lines. Nick Dixon was also in this third of the show and he was doing so well, but what ruined it for me was the last reference to women, simply ending ‘it’s hard to find an interesting woman…’ Maybe, just maybe, he could have redeemed himself if he had just made another wanking joke. Or something along the lines of ‘another night alone again.’ Alas, he left the ellipsis there and I just found it another cheap shot coming from yet another all-male lineup.
Lastly, I was so angry and upset by Quincy’s act that I didn’t clap him. Mainly, I thought it was a massive shame and disappointment that he came out with the jokes he did. Part of my anger isn’t even so much directed as Quincy himself, but rather at the world, at the white-supremacist society that dictates mainstream humour. In as much as we had to deal with jokes about domestic violence, we also witnessed Quincy do a disservice to himself as a “person of colour”. Whilst there were one or two anecdotes that were genuine and dealt with race in an enlightening way, the majority was full of the stuff that does nothing but perpetuate stereotypes of black people. With a majority of the audience being white, it seemed that he was catering for this audience, offering them a dumbed down comedy, serving up jokes to do with jerk chicken, Reggae Reggae sauce, and other stereotypical aspects of black culture that he somehow felt they would find funny. And the sad thing was, they did.
Then it got worse as he ended up being the act that delivered a sexism that said that he actually believed what he was saying. He spoke about the incident with Jay Z and Solange, and said that Beyonce should have put her husband before her sister and acted. Oh, and the fact that he practically applauded Jay Z for not fighting back. Oh well done, congratulations. Because, let’s be serious, whilst I don’t condone her actions, if Jay Z and Solange were both physical in that situation, who would come off worse? What Solange did was wrong, but I will not applaud a man for not attacking a woman. What I hope is that Quincy will improve and let go of this need to people-please (white people) with clichéd jokes based on stereotypes, and not bring in sexist opinions that simply aren’t funny. I believe with more originality, and less tired offensive language, he would stand a far better chance of being a successful comic. With his microphone-stand fiddling and looking over the crowd, rather than at them, I can only assume he’s still got a few things to learn. I don’t blame him as much as I blame society, but I really wish he wouldn’t perpetuate this view of his people, and drive a wedge between POC (a term I’m not entirely okay with using myself) and women as a whole. Instead, take a leaf out of someone like Jamali Maddix’s book on intelligent and witty commentary on race.
It’s so hard to find good comedy nights. All in all, I enjoyed most of what the Covent Garden Comedy Club had to offer, but I feel I have to point out where it fell short. I would go back again, but it would have been nice to have a bit more diversity and a bit less offensiveness. As it was Pride, it would have been good to have someone from the LGBTQ community represented, not to mention more women. Any recommendations for comedy nights that may appeal to my tastes more?
“Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance.” – Cesare Pavese
Open Arts Café is an evening of new work by up-and-coming artists. This month they are exploring strangers, wayfarers and travelling.
Please join us for wine and snacks as our artists take you around the world.
Nearest tube: Marble Arch
Pay what you can
***
With music from Lewis Barfoot and Maya Levy
Comedic theatre from Chris Boyd
Poetry from Carmina Masoliver
Short story from Giles Roberts
Short film from Victoria Fiore
Clowning and Acrobatics from Poceczka
Visual arts exhibit from Corinne Weidmann and Grace Esther Kalibbala
I will be reading my ‘Vultures’ poem from the ‘Writing in the Blackout’ Anthology during its launch party at Keats House Museum, Saturday 14th June. I wrote the poem as a collaboration with Matthew Dickerson; his image was commissioned for the anthology. The anthology is a online zine that explores themes of censorship in the arts and freedom of expression. Carmina has had her work featured here and will be standing alongside other selected poets to perform their work. The launch will also have 25 limited edition copies of the anthology available to buy for just £5. For more event info, please visit the page here.
I will be performing a five minute set with my collective, Burn After Reading alongside members of Malika’s Kitchen, including Selina Nwulu and feature Roger Robinson, plus BAR’s own Will Tyas. Join the facebook event.
The Gallery Cafe, 21 Old Ford Road, Bethnal Green, London E2 9PJ, 7.30pm
Last week at the Roundhouse, Bohdan gave us the task to write a Moskalik* poem. Here is my attempt.
If someone were to say they were voting for UKIP,
that it’s their right to flyer outside Iceland.
Well, let’s just say they might accidently trip,
and flying over Ruskin Drive, at St Philip’s is where they’d land.
This is based on a true experience, though my anger was kept at bay in reality.
*A four line poem with an ABAB rhyme scheme, starting with a disagreeable view, the third line a threat of violence, and the four line a place of worship where the act of violence will take place.
Poet on page and stage. Creator of She Grrrowls. Facilitator. Writer. 