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St Andrews
March 9th, 2024

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Yesterday on a freezing beginning of spring, I was on my way to a Poetry Festival in Scotland’s St Andrews called simply Stanza. The Byre venue in the ancient University town is a well known theatre there. Stanza has 26 years experience working with some great poetry both local, from all corners, and abroad. Their lengthy and in-depth insight into poetry was communicated in the day (Saturday) I was lucky enough to be there where inspired be readings my own thought went to many places and I was surprised how often I was changed throughout the day at the very differing yet unified, organised Festival.

So with a couple of hour’s journey behind me I arrived in time for a morning Master class. The hour was held by one Daljit Nagra who is a very successful poet as a nigh on Londoner with previous roots in India. As a poet he has taken up writing about the duel cultures he has known and experienced, 2003 was a big year for his cutting edge work.

I sat taking things in as his group of around 20 poets discussed and revealed this intimately shared media. You could almost see the great balls of energy being passed around the large table it was already an invitation to become deeply involved. The day from then on opened up with many daring hearts and strong as roots clarity that brought crafting words to very enlivening questions to champion or to powerfully become lost in. On the table (quite literally) was the interest poetic thought has in softly carving out a sense or deeming of the sublime.

My day there in the small, beautiful and very humble Byre environment was so well taken care of I relaxed heavily to soak up this heightened sense of expression and exploration of many things not least academia. The whole day was indeed a master class of everything that is powerful coming from dedicated people. Referring to each other constantly and performing intact or lucid tales commanded by their commitment to words and the life they bring.

The Loud Poets (my second extravaganza) workshop was an hour that with a gusto of intensity explained what is becoming in the spoken word aspect. They are a group of four but the workshop was presented by Kevin and Katie for whom this performance art was their profession and life, their name was very playful as was their style of teaching. The theme of exploration was by this time becoming well laid for my next encounter, which was to be a lecture from renowned poet and public speaker Jason Allen-Paisant.

This multi award winning poet has such roots in his wider community his revered book ‘Thinking with trees’ demonstrates an over arching ability to find the makings of a great many human endeavours. His stance was based on the free expression for violated human rights and there effects on the individual heart and soul. He used his own poetry and quotes to poignantly point directly to the important field and platform that only poetry can give us. At this time I was beginning to realise the extent to which this poetry was for whichever way you most desired it to be, even as everything was the freshest version it could be.

In this thrilling atmosphere I went upstairs to a room they call Studio to see a stage and set. By this time the works of poetry were being questioned to such a great extent its purity rose in stature also having the power to have or lack for non-understanding, I felt this resounding well as ‘we’ll see’ sprang to mind.

Then as we were darkened on came one Sean Wai Keung whose work and life have come together to do amazing things in writing, performing and cooking. His Glaswegian smile said everything as he married the three into a poet’s performance having had a diverse life with regard to culture, appearing as something of a loving grand master. Using normality to express this sublime thing we were now introduced to. His drive was strong since his work is commendably successful in the realm of teaching what may be poetic.

It began to dawn on me as I in readiness prepared to find myself disrobed and exposed. I was in a state where openness was all that really mattered as the poetics let me grow on the spot. I started to hunt and pinpoint what I could get on well with but all of the material left me with nothing but a commendable amount of praise.

I was first introduced and somewhat educated by the festival back during lockdown. I had not long taken up the form back then so listened intently not only to the writing but to the talks of just how wide it can reach this extended hand. That in interpretation of work from one language to another often offers up the difficulties that little phrases may make of the original work into entirely new meanings, such a subtle nuance.

The international presence emanated as essentially poetic doors were opened. In a continual way the very hearts of poets who stood up to poetically describe scenes of adversity that changed their life and gave their works the highest sense of cutting edge. With this giving force that yelled, spoke softly or otherwise it left nothing to neither ignore nor leave out.

The festival showed its roles in many ways, its practice’s, understanding’s and purposes. Through the enabling of giving or taking a voice the core took on more and more of mysterious slight as level’s of insight looked at style and knowledge using the voice well kempt for performing. Things kept on arriving at little nuances that could fly off elsewhere, set things apart, and then come back to stances and gestures with a pure sense of individual style.

Then came a showcase from a group called ‘Clydebuilt Poets’ another powerful, sensitive Scottish based group who find their poets in the heart of communities and offer a platform to this greatly celebrated and resolved task of poetry from heartfelt relating to grass roots. The 4 poets had very differing interests as the overall Master class of the festival made inclusivity out of gold.

The four were: Alison Cohen, a poet for whom late blooming was turned to her advantage, her expression of life was instinctively concise. CD Boyland, whose brave demeanour and heroic voice reflected on Faust and its significance, great significance even today 200 years on. Julie Laing, whose poems on Scotland reached a mark so well defined and so grippingly informed and last of the four one young, gifted and talented Lucille Mona Ling whose captivating words were well beyond her years.

The building was entranced in conversation as the heraldry of feedback gave a salute to the way poetry grows, it gives you feet and offers a very solitary voice even amid other such lovers. Ever so rich in the company of greatly influential references whose names seemed to ring out and be more than just role play, something else was on, a different thing, a thing that Moroccan poet Mouna Quafik expressed with contingent changing presence.

Having called her performance reading ‘From the Female Chimpanzee to Darwin’ She with great spirit married her performance as an aficionado and as a poet with a stand up skills creating a comedy out of expressive sincerity. I felt her words trickle through me of the very highest reality, she described herself and the world as a scene, autobiographically pertaining her poems with a fire of personal critique and with a totally abandoned personality. She shaped everything into the kind of poetry that gleamed with the light of truth. Honesty and compassion never looked so good.

And as the day had passed in great pleasure it was time for my last enlivening experience as I took my seat to the mid evening performance: a reading from Liz Lochhead herself and the very timely introduction to one Michael Pedersen.

The lectern on the stage took on a kind of metaphorical role of substance as the support for the hero poet. In this world of deep and nourishing encouragement its information alone carried tremendous weight. The young but incredibly talented Michael Pedersen walked on to read from his acclaimed book ‘Boy friend’ released in 2022.

His stance was of someone well versed and very capable to entertain. His works were uncensored and unafraid to go there, anywhere he likes. He took us with revelry through pains of the past and self confessed odd behaviour with a sharp wit and a very graciously crafted sense of humour, evoking grateful laughter from his refreshed and attentive audience, then called Liz for her reading.

Liz Lochhead’s story in poetry is impressive to research. Her dedication to art holds her in the highest esteem. She came on and not a soul stirred, reading from her work she took us into a vision with such a finery we could glance every detail, taking so great a care she led by example, capable of the greatest and smallest things in life. Her presence remitting a wit that has seen her traverse the globe with abounding and unending energy, forming friendships from every aspect of life. Her life a story of revelry and service, her voice an organ as much fit to console as to encompass an entire room.

The organisational expertise in the hands of directors and a staff gave an education by guiding audience and participants to the heart of everything, their world, the life, making poetic charm unlike magic that refuses to reveal it secrets, it was joyful and magnanimous.

Daniel Donnelly