Write to Speak at Hull Truck - Wednesday 27th May 09 (1/2)
By Mark Walmsley
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(1/2),
(2/2).
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Having found the thisisUll website by accident while looking for an
outlet for my hobby and passion, Writing, I was welcomed by Cilla after an initial
contact who took a page of my work I submitted and pasted it on the World Wide Web as
seen, titled as The Right Hand of God. In addition to this, she asked me if I would be
interested in attending the Write to Speak gig at the Hull Truck on Wednesday 27th May.
I was involved with the Truck a few years ago on a writing course and have a few plays (although never accredited by anyone), a number of short stories and a shed load of poems to my name not knowing what to do with them other than file them away under the title "I don't know what to do with them!"
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Tonight I thought I would part with the price of a fast food extra large meal and go along for the ride. I have never heard of Mandi What's her name, Mick Watts or Joe somebody or other and didn't know what to expect.
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As I stood at the bar, plastic pint in hand and being a 'Watcher' I tried to suss out by the collection of random groups of people what sort of a night I was in for. Not knowing anyone or being on my own doesn't bother me so I am not sure if it was a welcoming gathering or not but I noticed there were a good mixture of age groups, fashion groups and social groups which intrigued me even more.
I have followed works of Poets like Betjeman and half expected an upper tier gaggle of 'luvvies' so I was caught open-minded.
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I made my way to the small but comfortable theatre and could feel that the audience seemed more like a couple of strands of an extended family as there was a good deal of cross isle conversations and salutations.
I sort of felt like I had inadvertently walked into the wrong surprise 60 year old birthday party where you have one of those occasions in your life when all the long lost relatives turn up from out of the historic woodwork, a sort of instance when all the planets are in alignment that only happens very rarely.
On the introduction and subsequent appearance of the first performer Mandi Lowe, I was quite taken aback; I was presented with 'Pantomime dame does verbal Anne Summers party', which only made the scenario incomplete by the absence of a bullwhip.
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She announced that she had a few recitals based on fairy stories and in her words of warning? or reassurance? - however the audience wanted to deem it, that they were going to be 'Very, Very, Naughty'.
As I have mentioned, I am new to all this performance poetry lark and immediately thought I was in for some warmed up, re heated hormonal Pam Ayres type of an evening. I thought to myself, there is only one thing I didn't want to hear more than someone like Victoria Wood's version of 'Let's Do It' and that is a regurgitation of aging 'Track'r droiv'r' accented type ramblings.
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What I did hear instead was very different from my expectations, Mandi's delivery was superb and her garb all slotted into place with the nature of her brilliantly constructed poems.
Based on the humorous take on her 'fairy tales' it made a very entertaining and enjoyable session but I dare say there where more fans than 'newbies' in the audience that were simply coming back for another fix of this obviously popular Bard (or Bird …whatever).
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As if the evening needed warming up anymore, the 'prize fighter' type entrance by Mike Watts immediately followed by 'Seconds Out' as he steamed into the audience like Mike Tyson in his prime.
The very deliberate and rounded delivery of Mandi's work had me totally unprepared for the machine gunned delivery of Mike's poems. I yet again had to adjust my mindset of expectation to take in the fast flowing 'left, right, uppercut, right, bodyblow, left, headbutt' speed of his words.
This guy has so much energy both verbally and physically it was tiring just watching. He must be cold blooded though as he kept his jacket on throughout.
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I found Mike is naturally funny which would possibly buy a punch on the nose if you where caught in his presence and you laughed at him when he was being serious such were his Jekyll and Hyde characters that varied from hate, to dismay to disbelief to resignation and displayed a passion for what he was reciting.
I found his work of an underground raw nature, I would describe him as a street poet in the way David Blain is a street magician; no frills, mirrors, props or hidden agendas, just total face value belief in what he had to deliver. This session was really inspiring for me.
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| What's Happening? |
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| Chill Out |
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