Cherry Potts's Blog, page 17
February 18, 2014
Sense, Sentences and Sensibility – building poems from scratch
I’m running a poetry workshop on Friday. I keep quiet about poetry most of the time, but the opportunity came up (through Spread the Word), and I’ve been flexing my poetry muscles at the Poetry Cafe’s Poetry@3, Poetry at Mr Lawrence’s and the Towersey Festival recently, so here I go!
I’ll be exploring how poems work and finding your own voice through use of as many senses as possible (very possibly using props!) Suitable for novice and more experienced writers of poetry.
Join me at
Donald Hope Library
Cavendish House, High Street, Colliers Wood, London SW19 2HR
Friday 21st February between 1-3pm. FREE!
Out (and About) in South London
I will be on Out in South London on Resonance 104.4 FM this evening sometime between 6.30 and 7.30, if you feel like tuning in. I’ll be talking to Rosie Wilby about LGBT History month and … stuff.
The Historical Birthday-Tea Party 18th February
Raise your glasses in honour of Audre Lorde, 1934-1992 who described herself as black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet. One of the women who taught me it was ok to be angry, in fact, more than ok, essential.
My sexuality is part and parcel of who I am, and my poetry comes from the intersection of me and my worlds
Audre had two longterm female partners, Frances Clayton and then Gloria Joseph.
Revolution is not a onetime event.
I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We’ve been taught that silence would save us, but it won’t.
I remember how being young and black and gay and lonely felt. A lot of it was fine, feeling I had the truth and the light and the key, but a lot of it was purely hell.
But the true feminist deals out of a lesbian consciousness whether or not she ever sleeps with women.
That last quotation could stand for where I’m coming from with this party idea – no, not all these women actually slept with other women, (and believe me, there is such a thing as a woman who does identify as a lesbian who has never slept with another woman, so why not?) but they have a world view, or a mindset, or a sensibility… that makes me want to include them.
February 17, 2014
The Historical Birthday-Tea Party 17th February
Today we bake a cake for Dorothy Canfield Fisher February 17, 1879 – November 9, 1958.
Dorothy was a great friend of fellow writer, Willa Cather, they wrote great quantities of letters, which in the main we cannot read as Cather’s will forbade the publication of, or quotation from her letters. (Apparently the way to get round this is to go to the University of Nebraska, read the photocopies which they allow you access to and then paraphrase the contents – I’m not doing that for you, you are on your own! I do find myself wondering whether Willa would be pleased at this avoidance of her wishes, but if she’d really been that worried she’d have burnt them.)
Here’s a couple of quotes from Dorothy.
…there are two ways to meet life; you may refuse to care until indifference becomes a habit, a defensive armor, and you are safe – but bored. Or you can care greatly, live greatly, until life breaks you on its wheel.
I think that I am being at a spectacle which cynics say is impossible, the spectacle of a woman delighting – and with most obvious sincerity – in the beauty of another. (The Bent Twig)
Dorothy was an educator and activist, campaigning for women’s rights and race equality, and doing practical things whilst in Paris during the 1st World War, like creating braille works for blind veterans, and later setting up Montessori schools in the US.
I don’t know that she’d have time for a party, but she’s welcome if she can fit it in.
February 16, 2014
LGBT History month: reading at North Kensington Library – video
This week I did two readings from Mosaic of Air for LGBT History Month, the first at North Kensington Library.
(note about the videos: my website randomly allocates different formats to video, not all of which work with internet explorer: they all work with Mozilla Firefox so try that of you can’t see them!)
Here I read from Ladies Pleasure, which is set in an old people’s home.
http://cherrypottswriter.files.wordpress.com/2014/02/ladies-pleasure-lgbthm-snippet.wmv
And a new piece Clock: most of the action takes place at the top of a thirteenth century clock tower in a north european town, although the action is set in the late nineteenth century.
And the story which gave Arachne Press its name: Arachne’s Daughters, in which a spider gives a lecture (introduced and interjected into by Alix, playing ‘the archivist’)
and finally, Penelope is No Longer Waiting, my first ever published story, in which the Odyssey gets a different ending.
The plan is to read different stories at each event, so watch this space for more video or audio recordings, or come along to the last three events: The Story Sessions Queer Tales on 19th February, Crofton Park Library on 21st, and Cafe of Good Hope Rainbow Readings on the 26th.
Oh, and I’m going to be on the RADIO, on Out in South London on Resonance FM on Tuesday 18th February at some point between 6.30 and 7.30, repeated Sunday at 10am, talking about LGBT History Month.
The Historical Birthday-Tea Party 16th February
Today we celebrate a much feted doyenne of the American stage, Katherine Cornell February 16, 1898 – June 9, 1974, known to her friends as Kit.
Kit had a long career on stage but made only one brief appearance (as herself) on film, and a few TV appearances. She was universally admired at the time although taking a look at her in Stage Door Canteen, her performance looks stilted and old-fashioned now, as of course, stage actors often do on film.
Kit was married for forty years to fellow actor Guthrie McLintic in what was accepted as a lavender marriage, and had relationships with Tallulah Bankhead, poet Mercedes de Acosta and lyricist and director Nancy Hamilton, who became her life-long partner, they worked together on The Unconquered, a documentary about Helen Keller.
Kit is welcome to the party especially if she brings all her friends…
February 15, 2014
King Priam, ETO, Linbury Studio
Alix’s birthday treat – Tippett’s King Priam by English Touring Opera at the Linbury Studio, Royal Opera House.
This is what happens when you get involved in community opera – you get friends with the professionals, and you go to see something because someone you know is in it, (four someones in this instance – Grant Doyle, Nick Sharratt, Charne Rochford and Clarissa Meek) and you expand your musical horizons.
Pertinent in the centenary of WWI to be at an explicitly pacifist opera, and pertinent also in LGBT history month to be at a work by an openly gay composer, and a gay relationship depicted in Achilles and Patroclus. And anyone who knows me will know I will take an interest in anything based on the Iliad. A useful pre-performance talk involved a climb to the top of the building and then a rush back down to the bowels of the sub-sub-basement that is the Linbury.
I did find myself wondering whether it is possible to write a drama about pacificism without writing about war, but then I got caught up in the action and the music and forgot about it. Tippett’s work is clever and thought provoking, allowing us inside the head of the title role as Priam speaks to both Hermes (Adrian Dwyer – excellent) and the key players in the fateful decision to condemn and then save Paris as a child.
As a chorus member I pay a lot of attention to choral work, and Tippett is generous to his chorus, giving them first shot at scaring the audience, with a stunning bit of orchestrated screaming at the beginning (which is echoed at the end), that had me sitting up and thinking, oh-ho, this is going to be fun. In the confined space (and fourth row seats) the sound absolutely battered me. The chorus for the Trojan slaves in act three was excellent too and the chorus were well choreographed, making good use of the limited space, and very comfortable with standing stock still but still acting, particularly when they glare out into the audience as they follow the imagined course of Hector’s corpse dragged behind Achilles’ chariot.
The opera relies on trios both dramatically and musically and they work magnificently; three goddesses, three commentators – Old Man, Nurse, Young Guard), Hecuba, Helen and Andromache, Priam and his two sons, and in this production the battle scenes resolve into threes regularly too. The music for the trios was the most interesting for me – the solo instrument accompaniment for the solos I found a bit obvious and contrary after the first few times, and lacking subtlety, but then I don’t think Tippett was after subtlety.
I absolutely cannot fault anyone on their singing, the whole evening was a feast for the ears, from the piping of choral scholar Thomas Delgado-Little as young Paris, and Clarissa Meek‘s stern Nurse, right through to Grant Doyle‘s cheerfully pugnacious Hector. Dramatically speaking Laure Meloy is a ferocious Hecuba, while Camilla Roberts is a rather sulky Andromache – Tippett’s fault not Camilla’s, Andromache is more Roman matron than Trojan widow – the implied entitlement to her position and her grief at the death her husband (ranting about whose grief is more important), is rather unappealing. I’ve always had a soft spot for Andromache and it pained me to see her characterised like this.
Much is made in the programme and the pre-performance talk of the third act scene between Helen and Andromache and Hecuba, but I found it a bit expositional (if that’s a word), and I found Helen herself profoundly irritating, I did not feel Niamh Kelly‘s sultry temptress (all Theda Bara) got close to the required demi-goddess we are meant to see, and Helen is meant to present in herself (‘I am Helen’ she sings regularly, as though excusing herself and everyone else for bad behaviour) she has a fabulous voice however.
Interestingly, the characters which Tippett more or less invents – Old Man (Andrew Slater), Young Guard (Adam Tunnicliffe) and Nurse (Clarissa Meek) get some of the best moments, perhaps because Tippett didn’t feel the need to stick to the Iliad.
The design got in the way occasionally, the metal shape mid-stage which acts as throne room, natural rock outcrop and temple, occasionally blocked the chorus and indeed the orchestra – although in seat higher up it might not have been a problem. Although the women’s costumes were mostly exquisite (especially Hecuba), and the use of bone, antler and feather, whilst illogical, was rather entertaining, I was bewildered by the thrown-together look of the male cast – nothing seemed to fit, and the less said about the Japanese style eiderdown skirt for Priam, and curtains (no really, they were definitely curtains) for Paris’ trousers the better; both Roderick Earle and Nicholas Sharratt rose above these impediments, in particular in the scene when they sing a trio on the walls, as Grant Doyle’s Hector prepares to go out to face Achilles, his bravado undermined by dread, and silly Paris still not getting it that this is all his fault. Nick also got the silliest helmet award – the only men comfortable in their armour were Patroclus (ironic since it was meant to be borrowed) and the Young Guard.
I was disappointed that I occasionally needed the screens with the words (inconveniently to either side of the stage) Mostly the diction was crystal clear but with Charne Rochford I struggled, which was a pity as his scene with Patroclus (an excellent Piotr Lempa) was beautiful, having to glance away to work out what he was singing was a shame.
It is a bleak work, but there are flashes of bitter humour – Paris, suggesting he, Helen and Priam escape and found a new Troy (foreshadowing the Aeneid) is rebutted by Priam with you aren’t the founding sort; the chorus of slaves not caring who owns them – it’s just a change of ownership.
Tippett constantly contrasts cruelty and compassion, and a complexity of what-ifs leading from the first prophesy of Paris’ life meaning Priam’s death (but not Hector’s, as his stricken father weeps) to perhaps generations of retribution; Roderick Earle absolutely convinces as Priam in these later scenes.And it is, appropriately, the grief in the opera is the most convincingly played, with Achilles’ war cry, sung on stage by Charne Rochford, a wordless ullulation of anguish and anger, like a baying hound, fatal and threatening and despairing.
I’m sure the rest of the run is sold out, but it would be worth checking for returns, despite my minor quibbles, an exciting evening of first class music.
The Historical Birthday-Tea Party 15th February
Right, back to the history (and as an aside I’ve realised what I’ve been doing here – echoing Caryl Churchill’s Top Girls, a play in which various female icons from history and myth – Isabella Bird, Pope Joan, Lady Nijo, Dull Gret, Patient Griselda – gather together for a meal.)
Today’s birthday belongs to Susan B Anthony, February 15, 1820 – March 13, 1906, campaigner for women’s rights, abolition of slavery, temperance and suffrage for all in the USA.
Gloriously she was arrested and tried for voting!
This somewhat backfired on the government despite a completely unfair trial, as it gave her an unrivalled platform for her views. She was fined $100, which she refused to pay.
It was we, the people; not we, the white male citizens; nor yet we, the male citizens; but we, the whole people, who formed the Union … The true republic: men, their rights and nothing more: women, their rights and nothing less.
Susan was too busy campaigning to have much of a private life but seems like a good sort, with lots of women friends.
I declare to you that woman must not depend upon the protection of man, but must be taught to protect herself, and there I take my stand
Obviously she wouldn’t want to get in with some of the rowdy drinkers I’ve invited, but we could always have a genteel pre-yard-arm version with tea and lemon slices, and a nice madeira cake.
Failure is Impossible
February 14, 2014
The ACTUAL Birthday-Tea Party 14th February
Ok, a break from the history (nobody available anyway) and a big sloppy birthday kiss for my best girl for the last 30 plus years, Alix.
Alix is 72 today, and sharing her birthday with Mr Valentine makes going out for a meal unbelievably tedious, so that’s tomorrow. The Actual Tea Party is Sunday, the treat (visit to the opera – King Priam – brilliant) was yesterday. So today is given over to telling the world how absolutely bloody marvellous she is, in case World has not been paying attention and hasn’t realised. Fortunately most people who meet her do realise what a gem she is, and I feel very lucky to share my life with her.
She is a tower of strength, a superb front woman when I’m feeling feeble, incredibly sensible, practical (with a small p – don’t ask her to wield a screwdriver!), energetic, kind, loving, intelligent and generous.
She is also the loudest, funniest person I’ve ever met.
Alix will always get an invitation to the party, but she doesn’t need one, she is a party all on her own.
