Category Archives: Bardic

Trees, Poets, & Fairies: Sketchtember 2019

Having started Sketchtember last year (as a kind of prelude to the popular Inktober) I felt duty-bound to have another go this year, although as John Lennon once sang: ‘Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans…’ It’s been a hectic month, and I only got around to a bardic dozen, but for the record – here they are. I enjoyed doing them, and, of course, it’s about process, not product – I find sketching can be relaxing when I’m not too tired. I wish I sketched more often, without any arbitrary goals like this – but, there you go! It helped stop my sketching muscle from completely atrophying. Now all I have to do is keep the practice going all year round…

 

Extinction Cabaret Podcast

Dr Greenlove

‘Welcome to Extinction Cabaret!’                                                          Kevan Manwaring performs as Dr Greenlove

 

Come to the Extinction Cabaret and sing the songs of the Earth! Share your praise-poems for our precious planet! Recite your monologues of love and sorrow! Weep and laugh at the madness of it all, and inspire yourself and others to take positive action!

Extinction Cabaret was organised by Kevan Manwaring, and took place on Sunday, 13th October, Downstairs at The Western, Leicester, 7-10pm. It was part of the Everybody’s Reading Festival 2019.

Listen to the Podcast here.

TRACKS

  1. Planet Blues: Sara Vian
  2. Introduction: Dr Greenlove
  3. Choices: Kevan Manwaring
  4. Extinction Rebellion: Judy from XR Leicester
  5. House on Fire: Sara Vian
  6. Do What’s Best for the Planet: floor spot from Tony
  7. Lament for the Trees: Paul Francis
  8. 3 Short Poems: Steve Wylie
  9. When Life Gives You Lemons: Sara Vian
  10. Zero Time: floor spot from Greg
  11. Washing the Sea: Paul Francis
  12. Blessed is the Mother: Kevan Manwaring
  13. Keep Your Faith: Sara Vian
  14. Bellwether: Kevan Manwaring
  15. The Sailor and the Magician: Paul Francis
  16. The Calving of the Berg: Kevan Manwaring
  17. Beautiful Love: Sara Vian
  18. Silent Watchman – Steve Wylie
  19. Beautiful Soul – Sara Vian
  20. Don’t Push the River – Paul Francis

Thank you to all the contributors, especially to our special guests Sara Vian and Paul Francis, to Everybody’s Reading Festival, to James and the staff at The Western, and to Chris Watson from Music Eye for recording it all.

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Sara Vian

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Paul Francis, Troubadour from the 7th dimension                            aka Dr Space Toad

 

The Golden Room podcast: Episode #1

The Golden Room Logo

The Golden Room podcast #1

An Ecobardic Showcase (pt 1)

Welcome to The Golden Room podcast – a celebration of poetry, storytelling, music, song, conversation, and creative fellowship.

Created and hosted by writer, poet, and storyteller Kevan Manwaring, the plan is to release a new episode on the 3rd Sunday of the month – with this double launch on the Autumn Equinox being the exception! Roughly an hour long, each episode offers an immersive and relaxing medley of contributions – ideal to commute to, cook to, or sit back and unwind to: however you listen you are most welcome into The Golden Room.

50th BIRTHDAY POSTER new

The first two episodes offer a chance to eavesdrop upon An Ecobardic Showcase, a special evening which took place in Stroud, Gloucestershire, on 17th August, 2019. It was a double-celebration of Kevan Manwaring’s 50th and his doctorate. Proceeds went to Tree Aid – a worthy cause which you can still donate too, here:

https://www.justgiving.com/treeaid

The evening was excellently MCed by the inimitable Anthony Nanson. His links and much of the convivial atmosphere is edited out, to tidy up the raw recording (expertly done by Chantelle Smith; with help from Brendan Georgeson on PA, and thanks to Simon Fairbourn for loan of the recording device), but we hope you still get some sense of the atmosphere. Finally, many thanks to BAFTA Crew composer Rosemary Duxbury, for kindly allowing use of her sublime track, ‘Reverie’. Check out my interview and review of her latest release, ‘Thread of Gold’, after listening to the show.

LISTEN TO THE GOLDEN ROOM PODCAST #01 HERE

Tracks:

  1. [00:00] Intro: Kevan Manwaring
  2. [00:47] Reverie: Rosemary Duxbury  (Catherine Musker, viola & Patricia Siffert, piano)/[02:15] The Golden Room by Wilfrid Gibson, read by Kevan Manwaring
  3. [07:59] Welcome: a song by Chantelle Smith
  4. [08:22] Fifty: a poem by Kevan Manwaring
  5. [10:46] Mist-covered Mountains: a song by Chantelle Smith
  6. [13:20] The Dog: a story by Wayland the Skald
  7. [21:21] A Valentine for New Albion: a poem by Jeff Cloves
  8. [29:18] Overheard at Ascot; What the I Says: poems by Gabriel Bradford Millar (with Anthony Nanson)
  9. [32:35] Pan at My Window: a poem by Richard Austin
  10. [34:44] Planet Blues: a song by Sara Vian
  11. [37:51] Therapy: a poem by Brendan the Pop Poet
  12. [40:22] The Earth, She Moves Within: a poem by Joziat Khimba
  13. [45:45] The Butterfly Bishop: story by Kirsty Hartsiotis
  14. [55:21] Claw-hammer: Banjo by Scott Freer
  15. [59:10] Outro: by Kevan Manwaring/Reverie – reprise.


NEXT: THE GOLDEN ROOM EPISODE #2 An Ecobardic Showcase pt 2 – available from 22nd September. 

Look out for episode #3: 20th October – An Extinction Cabaret special!

 

 

Moon Heart & Monsters

I like to support upcoming and/or neglected fellow creatives, as we’ve all needed that leg-up or boost at some point. I’ve recently come across a very talented young musician/scholar down in Portsmouth, where I taught a couple of years ago. She’s Eilis Phillips, and she’s recently launched a new EP, Moon Heart. I’ve reviewed it and asked her a few questions below…

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Moon Heart – a Review

If there is such a thing as Space-Folk then Eilis Phillips’ new EP ‘Moon Heart’ is it. Through its five slickly-produced songs, Phillips charts a moonshot of self-empowerment, loneliness, and a stardust-sprinkled wanderlust. Alternating between the defiant and melancholic, the collective effect is of a boldly pioneering but vulnerable spacewalk. Phillips songs are like messages from an astronaut stuck in orbit, strumming in her tin can. In the jaunty opener, ‘Boneshaker’, she breaks free of the conventional shackles of relational expectations and gender roles with lines like ‘I say nebulas when you say nurseries…’ and wordplay that transforms ‘captive’ into ‘captain’. She asserts in the chorus, ‘I’m not your barefoot woman…’ and we’re left with a sense of her striking out into her own uncharted space. In ‘Moon Hearted Bird’, the mood becomes wistful as she reflects on ‘…a dream you once had…’ while evoking a ‘whippoorwill cry’ and a ‘reckoning sigh’ and it would be easy to assume she is singing about herself. In ‘Malcolm’ things seem to take a personal turn, anchored by the down-to-earth specificity of the name, and mentions of ‘no jobs for PhDs’, yet the dreaming persists in the face of reality, with ‘tall ships passing by’ and ‘dreams of being an astronaut’. A sense of lost opportunity pervades this, and the ethereal vocals create a sense of evanescence. In ‘Bellerophon’ the ambience reaches its most spaciously sublime, with a song referencing childhood, backlit with glimmering sunshine vibes. This paean to the famous Greek hero who killed the Chimera is, not surprisingly, intershot with Hellenic references – Daedalus, Icarus, and of course the eponymous monster slayer himself. And in the final song, ‘Maru’, the armour comes off and Phillips offers the most personal message in a bottle, as she sings of inchoate wishes of simple pleasures and intimacy. Nevertheless she asserts she is ‘not afraid of being alone’, while evoking a lonesome mood. Yet, as with all her songs, there is a haunting melody and catchy refrain that lifts the register to escape velocity. This sonic space capsule beams back some quite beautiful messages from the existential abyss, and bodes well for future transmissions from the depths of Eilis Phillips’ distinctive creative solar system.

Kevan Manwaring

 

Interview with Eilis Phillips

by Kevan Manwaring

So, first of all, could you say a little about yourself? What’s your background and how did you get to this point in time and space?

I’ve spent most of my working life as a gigging bass player & singer-songwriter playing round Northern Ireland, England, and some other more far flung parts of the world when the opportunity allowed. I’m from Hong Kong but I grew up in Belfast. In 2012 I enrolled at the University of Portsmouth on an International Relations and French undergraduate degree, but that has somehow morphed into a History PhD, which, all being well I should submit next year.
You seem to be actively engaged with things in Portsmouth – DarkFest, etc. Can you tell us about the scene there?

Ah it’s great! Portsmouth is fairly small and contained, but that hasn’t stopped a really vibrant & open creative culture from developing. Darkfest had its third incarnation this year, and every year it seems to bring out new people and events. It’s a month-long celebration of the macabre, the noir, the weird, the supernatural….We embrace all kinds of styles: immersive theatre, storytelling, gigs, art workshops, academic talks, film screenings and kids events. My wonderful PhD supervisor, Dr Karl Bell, created the festival with the help of some really talented local artists, writers, and promoters; it’s thanks to him that we have this vibrant festival that brings out the best in our town’s culture. I’m very lucky to be able to work with him, and the rest of the Supernatural Cities team – our research group based at Portsmouth Uni. We are always cooking up new ideas for how we can link our research to what’s already going on in the local arts scene.
It looks like you’re into some fascinating stuff. Can you tell me about your research?

Thanks, I’m studying nineteenth-century cultural history. Much of what I research is about folklore formation and people’s religious, supernatural or what were deemed ‘superstitious’ beliefs or stereotypes. In particular, I research stories about different kinds of monsters. I’m mostly interested in learning about why different members of the working-class were depicted as monstrous in the period’s press. I’ve done case studies on ghostly miners, demonic arsonists, goblin servants, and currently I’m looking at cannibal sailors. So never a dull moment…

I would love to hear about your creative outputs – your music. What inspires it? Does it intersect with your research in any way?

Yes, I think my research always creeps into my writing, but it’s not always an overt theme in the songs. My previous record, Fear No Faerie Voices, was very folklore-based, and the personal themes – what I was experiencing in my life – were hidden very much beneath the fairy tales. Fairy tales have always been allegories, that’s what they are for, largely. To convey complex life lessons using repeating, familiar motifs. Moon Heart is the other way around, the personal reflections are front and centre, and the folklore (and Sci Fi) references are just flourishes really.
You have a distinctive look in your videos and publicity photos – each seems to be a different character. Can you talk about them/your approach?

I guess the looks tend to be quite expressive and they are definitely their own characters. I feel more comfortable playing a role in photoshoots than I do trying to be me only ‘fancy’. There is so much pressure on women to look a certain way – I try to avoid and subvert that when I can. For the Moon Heart shoot I wanted minimal make-up, and an androgynous look. Album artwork should be iconic, to me. It should give the listener a feel for what inspired the music. I have to give full credit to Kris Telford at Silent Canvas Media for most of my artwork throughout the years. He makes incredible art and can turn even the most prosaic scenario into something really eye-catching.

Who are your inspirations, creatively, critically, and in life, generally?

Astronauts. Teachers. Brave, kind, compassionate people. Musically, I am going through a real Frank Sinatra phase at the minute. To my mind, he’s the greatest singer of our age. The amount of feel and pathos he could inject into even the most throwaway line, is just incredible. My main influences growing up were Simon and Garfunkel, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Dylan…just great songwriters.

What’s on the horizon for you? Any exciting plans or projects?

Quite a few exciting collaborations on the agenda for 2019. I’m very lucky to be co-organising our fourth Supernatural Cities conference – Magical Cities  – which will be hosted at Portsmouth Uni in June next year. Our CFP is now live and we are accepting submissions until 31st January. I’m also heading back to Northern Ireland in January to gig with Jackie Rainey & the Sweet Beats – always fun – and to hopefully will be recording a new music video and sneaking in a photoshoot. So that’s exciting. Other than that, people can keep up to date with my events and gigs at my website eilislaphillips.wordpress.com.

If you could sum up your ethos, your approach, or ‘mission statement’ what would it be? What key message are you trying to get across?

An interesting question – I suppose my mission statement would be to embrace curiosity, and live tenaciously. Strive for the best in yourself, always. See it in other people and encourage them not to give up on their hopes and dreams.

Any final advice to those starting out creatively &/or academically?

Focus on what makes you, personally, want to write and create or research. Don’t do it for other people, do it for yourself. Make yourself proud.

Oh, and I suppose I should say something practical so…musicians, you never know when you’re going to need gaffer tape so always keep some handy – don’t be afraid to spend money on spare equipment. A bag of spare leads and a mic are a life saver.

Thanks for the interesting questions, Kevan!

Find out more about Eilis, her research and her music, here:

https://eilislaphillips.wordpress.com/

Gatherer of Souls – a review

Gatherer of Souls by Lorna Smithers

a review by Kevan Manwaring

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This extraordinary collection from self-defining ‘awenydd’ (a spirit worker and inspired poet) Lorna Smithers is the culmination of a full-blooded dedication to the Brythonic god, Gwyn ap Nudd. It charts a contemporary Underworld initiation, a journey to Annwn (the Celtic Hades) and back, with Gwyn as the poet’s psychopompic muse. A figure neglected, or even redacted from the spiritual tradition of the Britannic Isles, Lorna has sought to re-instate Gwyn as ‘warrior-protector of Britain’, a position she feels was usurped by King Arthur. As Lorna herself puts it: ‘After centuries of soul-loss Gwyn re-opened those doors and challenged me to ride with him through war-torn centuries to recover his forgotten mythos.’ Her collection of poetry and prose is a ‘record of [that] journey’.  In its six ‘acts’ or ‘books’ Gatherer of Souls charts a mythopoeiac counter-history of Britain, from the end of the Ice Age, through Roman occupation, into the so-called Dark Ages and the fall of the kingdom of Rheged, right up to the present day. In such a vast sweep of time it is inevitably highly selective – a personalised, subjective travelogue, as Lorna journeys with her dark muse. With its alternating poetry and prose (and sometimes prose-poems) the form is like a Celtic variant of the Japanese haibun (a form which reached its zenith in Basho’s The Narrow Road to the Deep North, or Travels of a Weather-Exposed Skeleton). And yet in its dense content, a mythic mulch of lore, it is perhaps closer to the long poems of David Jones (e.g. The Sleeping Lord), the psychogeography of Jeremy Hooker, or Geoffrey Hill’s ‘Mercian Hymns’. And yet the uncompromising voice is uniquely Lorna’s own. She doesn’t take prisoners. There is a fierce energy driving these soundings from Annwn as relentless as Ceridwen’s. They are permeated with a quintessentially northern melancholy, a sense of loss, of grief. This permanent penumbra is perhaps overly gloomy at times, but there are flashes of brightness, as in ‘Missing God’: ‘You showed me silver spaceships, three shining gateways…’ Yet even these ‘pathways to the stars … always led back down.’  This is deep dive into the fathomless fastness of Gwyn’s realm and the subconscious of the land, as well as the poet’s own shadow. Arthur, as a legendary figure is reinvented by everyone who comes to him, projecting their own light and darkness – and in Lorna’s case the Pendragon becomes the antagonist, the False King, guilty of terrible war crimes. As the ultimate, flawed authority figure, Lorna sticks it to the Man. This tubthumping revisionism is certainly novel, and it shows the poet’s committed approach. She takes the myths and legends of this land personally, and sees them as continuing. This approach leads to the most original pieces in the collection, the remarkable prose-poem sequence, ‘The Oldest Animals 21st C’, which recasts the sequence from ‘Culhwch and Olwen’ (Y Mabinogi) about the search for Mabon ap Modron, in the Age of Anthropocene. In ‘The Once and Future King has Returned’ Arthur is back as a warmongering demagogue, his ship Prydwen heading a fleet of warhead-laden submarines. And in ‘Time’ the poet shatters the artificial clock of temporality: ‘Timelines snapped like rulers bent too many times’. This simultaneity of the mythic past and the time-torn present permeates her work. For Lorna, much like Ivor Gurney, there is no separation. In its authenticity and whole-hearted commitment Gatherer of Souls offers a refreshing counter-blast to the Postmodern posturing of so many poets with their ironic word-games. For those who like their poetic fix pagan, dark and strong, this is for you.

Available from:

https://lornasmithers.wordpress.com/publications/gatherer-of-souls/

By the Living Voice

Diary of a Viva Ninja: Day 9 

Beard Pullers by June Sheridan

Beard Pullers by June Sheridan

Although the commonly accepted definition of the doctoral rite-of-passage, the ‘Viva Voce’, is an ‘oral examination’, the one that appeals most to me is ‘by the living voice’. As soon as I came across this I suddenly felt a quantum of reassurance – for I have made a lifetime’s study of the performance of bardic skills and development of the bardic tradition (2004; 2006; 2008; 2010; 2012; 2013; 2016; 2018).  The Viva is conducted not within the oral tradition but within an extremely rigorous academic frame, of course, and it is important to understand that it is ‘a new form of high-level communication, [one for which] you need to gain some advanced rhetorical and performance skills’ (Murray, 2015: 2). Nevertheless, there are some interesting overlaps (eg variants of the ‘skills’ Murray mentions), and considering the Viva in this way, reframing it as a bardic endeavour, means I am not sticking my neck out, but drawing upon years of informed creative-practice and research.

Forms of oral examination have been around for a long time, most famously in the Socratic Method of question-and-answer. Here the questioner hopes to catch the recipient out, sometimes by performing a disingenuous ignorance: Socratic Irony. My preference is for the less hierarchical and mutually empowering colloquy one comes across in the Celtic tradition. The finest example of this is known as ‘The Colloquy of the Two Sages’ in which the young budding bard, Nede, is challenged by a senior bard, Fercheirtne, whose chair he wishes to claim (as the descendent of the previous incumbent, his father). Through an intense series of ritualised questioning, Nede (wearing a mock beard of grass) has to defend his claim to the chair. His examiner ‘pulls his beard’, that is tests his knowledge and the authenticity of his claim. Critically, the questioner’s role here is not necessarily antagonistic. Fercheirtne is questioned in return by Nede and his answers seek to ‘outbard’ the challenger, like some Iron Age rap battle. But in the process, both ‘combatants’ display their skill and their answers encode great wisdom and poetry power for future bards to learn from and even perform (as Williamson memorably does in an epic feat of bardic skill). The outcome of this is for the young bard to become, eventually, an ollamh, a Doctor of Verse – so in it we can see a direct analogy to the Viva. A translation of it by no less than Robin Williamson (Incredible String Band; Honorary Bard of OBOD, etc) graces the end-pages of my Bardic Handbook.  Here is a taster:

The Colloquy of the Two Sages (extract)

A question, o young man of learning, what art do you practise?

to which Nede replied:

not hard to answer
I bring blush to face
and spirit to flesh
I practise fear’s erasure
and tumescence of impudence
metre’s nurture
honour’s venture
and wisdom’s wooing
I shape beauty to human mouths
Give wings to insight
I make naked the word
In small space I have foregathered
The cattle of cognizance
The stream of science
The totality of teaching
The captivation of kings
And the legacy of legends.

And you my elder, what are do you practise?

to which Fercheirtne replied:

 not hard to answer
sifting of streams for gold of wisdom
lulling of hearts from the fires of anger
captaincy of words
excellency of skill
putting feathers in kings’ pillows
I have acquired a thirst that would drain the Boyne
I am a maker of shields and wounds
a slicer of pure air
an architect of thought
I can say much with few words
I can sing the long miles of great heroes’ lives
I am a jeweller of the heart.

(From Irish tradition, translation by Robin Williamson, The Bardic Handbook, 2006).

Apart from the sheer beauty of the poetry, the colloquy teaches us to hone our own powers of communication to their highest level, to love language and debate, and to (hopefully) savour the experience of discussing one’s major research project with highly-skilled and experienced academics. To have such a level of critical attention should be seen as not a painful, compulsory final hurdle but as a privilege. After all, it is what you have worked towards for so long. It is your ‘opening night’, academically. First night nerves are inevitable, but rehearsal and classic performance techniques can help mitigate those nerves.

In performance the more relaxed one becomes in front of an audience, the easier it gets – certainly, the more likely it is for the ‘awen’, (Welsh, f. noun: inspiration) to flow. Nothing can replicate ‘live experience’. In the folk world it is a truism that you need to ‘fail’ in front of a real audience with  new song, then ‘fail better’ next time.

The aim is, through practice, to become habituated to the rarefied climate of high academic discourse, to a sustained critical debate:

‘Students have to understand the components of communicative strategies, customize them for their own examinations and practise them well in advance, to the point where the strategies have become part of their rhetorical repertoire.’ (Murray, 2015: 90)

And so … practise, practise, practise!

Works by Kevan Manwaring on the bardic tradition:

Fire in the Head: creative process in the Celtic diaspora, Awen 2004

The Bardic Handbook: the complete manual for the 21st Century bard, Gothic Image, 2006

The Book of the Bardic Chair, RJ Stewart Books 2008

The Way of Awen: journey of a bard, O Books, 2010

Oxfordshire Folk Tales, The History Press, 2012

Northamptonshire Folk Tales, The History Press, 2013

Ballad Tales: an anthology of British ballads retold (ed.), The History Press, 2016

Silver Branch: bardic poems and letters to a young bard, Awen 2018

Other works cited

Murray, R. (2015) How to Survive a Viva: defending a thesis in an oral examination, Open University Press

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Honouring

The friends in our life are a true measure of success – the harvest of a life well-lived.

I am fortunate to know many talented people who I find inspiring and good company to boot. To be around them is a buzz, and their achievements mutually empowering. We raise each other up by stepping into our own power, by not being afraid to shine. I love seeing my friends do well. I praise their successes, cheer them on. Because I know something of their journey, of their struggles and sheer effort. When I am with them I feel more complete, because in some mysterious way they ‘hold’ something for me, an aspect of my own personality that they manifest in full. They are fully themselves, of course, but something in them draws me to them. I sense a kindred spirit. We share common ground – interests, experiences, obsessions, ambitions, sense of humour, wounds, or beliefs. They may just make me smile, make me feel alive, or make me feel more like me. I can be myself around them. The conversation flows. I feel listened to, received, and reciprocated. Seen. Heard. Held. They catch me when I fall, and without a second’s thought I do the same for them. I feel ‘greater than’, instead of ‘less than’, in their presence – not diminished or undermined, but raised up – not in an egotistical sense, but in an ennobled one. In such company I feel somehow things fall into place: a little piece of the universe’s puzzle slots home.

And so I wish to honour these friendships that I feel so honoured by. There are many ways of doing this – by baking a cake, singing a song, writing a letter, handcrafting something, or simply spending quality time with them. Last month I celebrated my 49th birthday in Stroud with ‘A Night of Bards’ – a gathering of storytellers, poets and singers to ‘wet the baby’s head’ of my new book, Silver Branch: bardic poems (published by Awen Publications), launched on that date. It was a special evening, brief but heart-warming and flowing with awen and camaraderie. I took photos, as did my friends, and I’ve used some of these to recreate some of the performances in what I call ‘bardic portraits’, intended to capture not an exact likeness but the energy of the performer, their presence. I incorporate a key phrase from their contribution, and have slowly worked my way through the dozen or so performers over the last month. It has been a nice way to remember the evening, enjoying it again like a fine feast, but in particular, a chance to focus in on each bard’s unique quality and talent. To bring awareness to these remarkable friends and the skein of friendships that we share.

Other friends who weren’t present on the evening but who have performed at other events I’ve organised over the years I may get around to also. They all deserve to be celebrated. Collectively they represent an inspiring microcosm of contemporary bardism. Who knows, maybe my sketches may provide a record for posterity; but more importantly they are intended to honour the subjects while they are here – to give thanks for their being vibrantly alive at this time and place in human history, and for touching my life.

Kevan Manwaring, 23 September 2018

Bardic Portraits from ‘A Night of Bards’ (Stroud, 19 Aug. 2018) by Kevan Manwaring

 

 

Earthwards by Kevan Manwaring