PERFORMANCE POETRY, PUNS AND PARODIES
We were treated to an exciting evening, starting with a poetic performance by Steve, who demonstrated how skilful changes in volume, speed, intonation and the use of pauses can enliven a presentation. Steve exploited to the full the techniques which caused him to be selected as the one poet from 500 applicants for a Milton Keynes show last year. We saw why he was so popular for gigs - a variety of poetry (all his own) was delivered as a whirlwind of internal and external rhyme. Part of the act is his innate charm and self-confidence: he addresses us directly - he is Steve and his poems are Steve. Much of his poetry is social commentary. In the poem No Television he develops his material and ideas to those of us immersed in this medium. I particularly enjoyed the way he invites a friend to come in and watch the radio.
His confidence and verve were infectious for the second part of the evening, when we entertained each other with our choices of Parody, ranging from Milton to Masefield, and Martha Ault's witty 1994 version of an anthem for Charles III which we all sang to the tune of "God Save the Queen".
Back to TopMARTIN COOK
From his chota-pegs and tea plantations, to the wisdom of a winkling Welshman, Martin Cook certainly took members and friends of the TPS on a global, poetic journey, when he entertained us as a visiting speaker on the second Tuesday of March 2008. It was a wide-ranging evening, encompassing much of Martin’s vast working experience, with a poetic repertoire that ranged from Dustcart and Dung Beetle to Frederika, the Prussian Princess. What his work displays ostensibly is an acute sense of observation, blended with a quite touching brand of empathy, and these qualities are further enhanced by his admirable ability in descriptive passages. Interlaced with all this runs a rather impish sense of humour: everything from light whimsy and dry wit, to the bawdy bedroom belly laugh. It was certainly an evening to savour.
The touching notions to his verse were immediately apparent in the very first poem concerning his father’s own sad demise with the bittersweet comment that it was rather, “like standing outside the headmaster’s study,” as a child. Those of us who have, unfortunately, waited at those demon portals were well aware of the mood. And, in a similar vein, anyone who has suffered the loss of a close friend, or has served in the forces, could hardly fail to be moved by Martin’s words of praise for the military colleague he lost in the Troudos Mountains. But there was also a whole string of short, neat poems of touching sympathy in the latter half of his book, “Mackerel Wrappers.” Here, Martin’s poignant style glimmers through a dozen thumbnail sketches of people he had encountered in life in well-crafted lines and beautifully balanced stanzas.
Another aspect of Martin’s work that appeals to me, (and I must add that this is only a personal appraisal) was his love of nature poetry and the artistry involved in his descriptive phraseology. In “Quack,” for example, which is basically a humorous poem; there are some quite captivating lines between the randy bits. “Sedate and stately… on a millpond’s calm…unaware of a shadow… sliding below… in a weed jungle.” Words, it seems to me, almost too good, too poetic, to be included in a comic verse. But my favourite piece in the descriptive genre was, “Tan Y Craig,” which so evocatively reminds me of the tumbledown cottage my grandmother bought when she retired in 1944. The collage of the first five stanzas is so beautifully and economically constructed that it reeks of a damp and decrepit old building. Whilst in the second half of the poem, the change of syntax, pace and tone creates a rewarding air of tranquillity that paints nature at its wholesome best. Phrases like, a “ multitude of mist-shrouded pines…as sun sliced through the land’s pale coverlet…(where) our worries would be blown away,” are most adroitly penned and highly effective.
Another facet of Martin’s work that appealed to me, was the use of humour, sometimes subtle, sometimes crude, but invariably a true comment on life. “George,” for example, the awkward old sod in the nursing home, reminded me so much of my lady-like but outspoken aunt in similar circumstances. There were two further reminders of my own life, firstly, in the whimsical, “My Lost Address Book,” and secondly in the hilarious, “Christmas Letter,” which was so reminiscent of the two round robins I receive each year, though infinitely more humorous. I also thought that, “Dad’s Will,” and, “Suburban Music,” were masterpieces of comic verse, and also of originality, without ever losing the key elements of superior verse. But that was Martin’s evening, and although the venue was as warm as a tea plantation and we needed a chota peg, I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed my poetical Cook’s tour.
Back to TopSUSAN CHAPPELL
Susan’s ambitious programme for the evening was to attempt to
demonstrate ways in which a musical setting might influence, possibly
intensify, our response to a poem.
The room was full and it struck me how much trouble Susan had taken to prepare her material, not only finding suitable settings on disc to play to us, but also photocopying so that with a copy of the text in front of us we might more easily try to identify in detail our responses to each setting.
In her introduction she discussed the sort of aspects of poetry a composer might wish to express in musical terms - for example the mood induced by a musical preamble and the rhythms and sound effects the words and syntax themselves created.
She began with “Under the Greenwood Tree” from ‘As You Like It‘, as set by Korngold. We were able to note how the arpeggios at the opening at once set the magical atmosphere of the Forest of Arden together with the way the setting emphasised the rhythms of the song’s invitation to the reader/listener to ”Come hither, come hither”.
There followed two settings, one by Roger Quilter, and another by Korngold of “Come away, come away Death” from Twelfth Night; each of which managed in very different ways to reflect how the song fitted into the theme of the play to reflect that Orsino’s mind was changeable - “a very opal”.
After this, two Betjeman poems set by Madelaine Dring (afraid I’d never heard of her but they were superb). Following with the text it was easy to see how she had created with laid-back rhythms “The sleepy sounds of the tea-time tide
Too lazy almost to sink and lift Round low peninsulars pink with thrift”. (Very sensuous.)
The second poem “Song of a Nightclub Proprietress” created effectively in music the nightclub atmosphere, pointing the witty detail of smoke, glasses, full ashtrays etc.
Susan concluded the first half of the evening with Britten’s setting of Blake’s “Sick Rose“.For me this setting goes to the many layered heart of the poem, the horn solo creating a universe of ambiguous unease - quite superb. I think this is a perfect example of the way a musical setting can provide in sound a whole added dimension, validating Pater’s often quoted saying that “all art aspires to the condition of music”.
Sadly but inevitably we ran out of time. So in the second half we were happy just to listen to Vaughan Williams’s wonderful settings of Housman poems.
Susan had given us a rich and fascinating evening and we hope that perhaps some time later in the year we can have a follow-up session.
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