Archive for April, 2013

Poetry Out Loud

Thursday, April 25th, 2013

Poppy-flowersI am not a big poetry reader.  When reading it, not only do I miss the availability, and to my ears, the fluidity of prose, but I have to admit that I often don’t hear the rhythm of it.  But poetry read out loud, preferably by the poet, never fails to infuse it with a heart and beat that my silent reading fails to.  Even now I recall two different poets saying the words “yellow” and “blue” in their poems in such a lyrical way so that years later I still don’t hear those words in quite the same way.  Or the memory of another referring to “some back porch, we can neither wish for nor recall” still invokes a sense of nostalgia even though I have little personal experience of back porches.  It need not be the author who reads their work.  I remember Linda Griffiths, in her fabulous play about Gwendolyn MacEwen, quoting “I have spoken to it in a foreign tongue, I have stroked its neck in the night like wish”.  It is for this reason, I think, that I missed hearing “In Flanders Fields” at an ANZAC Day service.  That poem, at least in Canada, is inevitably recited by a school kid who never fails to bring the poppies to life.

So Why am I Doing This?

Monday, April 15th, 2013
kate middleton biting nails

I don’t know what Kate’s doing in the first pic but I can relate to the second.

My play opens tomorrow night and I am very anxious.  My only role (and really my only role since the first few rehearsals where the odd tweak to the script was made based on director and actor input) is to be nervous.  Psychologists say (or so I’ve read) that people are more likely to feel stressed if they have no control over a situation.  That would be me.  It’s reminding me why I stopped writing for theatre.  My answer to this was to buy new pillows for the set (with the director’s permission of course).  Surely that should guarantee a good, well-attended show.  Right?

Are You Looking at Me?

Tuesday, April 2nd, 2013

you-looking-at-meWe may be taught that it’s rude to stare but I for one find it hard to keep my eyes off some people.  This normally has little to do with their looks (although there are, of course, exceptions), but rather some combination of features and circumstance that render them fascinating.  At times the source of appeal is obvious.  The beautiful young bride in her beautiful dress, sitting alone (apart from her cell phone) at the bar of a high-end restaurant comes to mind (her far too young groom, looking ill-equipped in a black shirt with black tie did eventually show up).  As does the fat Russian oligarchs (or so I assume) with their skinny, heavily made-up companions and screaming brood on the Black Sea coast.  But in the case of others, it might be the slump of their shoulders (what stories a good slump can tell), smile lines etched far up cheeks, or the company they keep (a couple that raises the question, “how do you suppose they know each other?” is always a good start).  So when the book you’re reading fails to captivate you, I wish you a spot with good people watching.