VI : Music with Poetry

The picture of Wendy Cope, who is one of the rarer and valuable species, the comic poet, was taken at the Ceolfrith in Sunderland (the name is pronounced “keel” not “coal”, being related to ship-building). This flourished in the Arts Centre, Grange Terrace, from 1980, under the leadership of Roger Garfitt, and declined in activity when he left in 1982. The readings shared the evening with musical performances, making well balanced programmes.

Wendy Cope, ‘Ceolfrith’, Sunderland 16/02/1984

This was occasionally done at other readings, though usually as part of the poetical performance: James Simmons, for example, at the Morden Tower. I bought a copy of his record containing “The Ballad of Claudy” and played it to a school assembly, where it caused a sensation.

James Simmons, Morden Tower, 17/12/1970

Chris Torrance played a sort of flute at the Colpitts; I remember that reading well, because after a poem which he had said to be placed in Croydon, I asked him whether it described Duppas Hill, and with some astonishment he said it did.

Chris Torrance (R) with Iain Sinclair, Colpitts 20/05/1977

‘The Wylam Singers’, Coelfrith, 03/02/1981

Tristram Robson, Ceolfrith, 27/01/81

At a reading by Vince Morrison, Ceolfrith 17/03/1981

Only the Coelfrith made music with poetry the regular form, and one of the nights (“The Sweetest Thing”) was a performance of thirties ballads, “The Folks who Live on the Hill”, and “Dinner for One please, James”, poetry indeed.

“The Sweetest Thing”. Dick Bradshaw (L) singing “Dinner for One, please, James”, with Ken Stitt. Ceolfrith 02/02/1982

VII : Anchor Men

This picture show, incompletely, Duncan Brown in the capacity of double-bass player; he was the chief organiser of the Castle Chare Arts centre in Durham, which provided a home for the Colpitts poetry after it left the pub. Castle Chare was an ugly place at the start, but it improved considerably over the years, and was a loss when it had to close in 1987 due to the Church’s demand for a greatly increased rent.

Poems by Adrian Mitchell with (L to R) Duncan Brown, Jon Bennett and Fiona McPherson. Castle Chare, Durham. 20/06/1986

Peter Reading helped to run the Coelfrith. I’ve never heard a chairman quite like him, he seemed to regard the proceedings as a joke, whether (as in the case of Gavin Ewart) jokes were on the agenda or not.

Gavin Ewart reading, with Peter Reading, Coelfrith 03/03/1981.

David Burnett, an accomplished poet who often chairs Colpitts readings, does so in an entirely different manner, tentative, as if too positive a statement would destroy the very miracle that the poet would read at all. This quality of manner is not to be discerned in his poetry.

In this photograph he flanks Mrs. Gascoyne, who is herself her husband’s impresario. She tells the story of how she gave readings to hospital in-patients, and one day read a poem by David Gascoyne, unaware that he was in the audience. He introduced himself at the end, and she brought him out into renewed life and work.

David Burnett, Judy Gascoyne, David Gascoyne, Castle Chare, Durham 19/10/1979

David Burnett with reader Matthew Sweeney, Castle Chare, 14/02/1986

Roger Garfitt is seen in charge at Coelfrith during a poetry reading by D.M.Thomas; this was shortly before Thomas attained fame as a provider of high class sex-books, starting with “The White Hotel”.

D.M. Thomas reading, with Roger Garfitt, Coelfrith, Sunderland 27/01/1981

Michael O’Neill (husband of Posy O'Neill) and David Fuller (husband of Cynthia below) are both directors of the Colpitts enterprise.

Michael O’Neill with Cynthia Fuller at her reading, Castle Chare, 01/05/1986

Ric Caddell founded the Colpitts, but dropped out of it by degrees in the 1980’s. Here he is seen reading a sequence dealing with wine labels. There is a degree of ironic detachment or parody in some of his work, and wine labels provide fine material for that, since the ambition of the label bears no obvious relation to the quality of the wine. I can’t imagine anyone being successfully ironic about the label of Chateau d’Yquem.

Ric Caddel, Castle chare 09/03/1984

Christopher Logue, whose reading is being chaired by Ric, was said in a newspaper article I read to have a reputation for rudeness. If so (and one of the penalties of old age is that you have a decreasing belief in the accuracy of newspapers), then I don’t know why; his courtesy to me was outstanding. In repayment for a few snapshots he sent me, by return of post, a hardback copy of his collection “Sweet and Sour”, from which incidentally I learned of Wendy Cope.

Christopher Logue reading, with Ric Caddel, Big Jug, Durham 19/03/1982

VIII : Lighting and Arrangement

In the studio, the subject and lighting arrangements are under the control of the photographer. The conditions at these readings are exactly the opposite; they are made by the organisers for the convenience of readers and audience, and must be accepted as they are.

In particular, a flash must never be used. Even the noise of a shutter can be an intrusion, and pictures often must be taken during the introduction to a piece or when the audience laughs. The use of flash is an unpardonable rudeness. There is another reason for not using it, and that is that it produces lighting which the audience never sees, and therefore does not reproduce the atmosphere of the reading.

Arrangement during a reading is static, unless the reader chooses to prowl to and fro. The interval produces many different arranges, as in the picture of Gareth Reeves and Patty O’Boyle, which depends on back-lighting and an accidental conjunction of figures. This is selected, I should add, from several similar negatives, and one must be prepared to take a good many more shots than are finally used. It would be a mistake to wait for the ideal picture to compose itself, better to take sighting-shots, because the ideal may not materialise, and waiting for it would produce nothing at all.

Gareth Reeves and Patty O’Boyle, The Bridge Hotel, Durham 14/10/1983

Gareth, lecturer in English at the University, poet and son of a poet, is an anchor-man of the Colpitts readings and of the magazine “Poetry Durham”, which he is seen here pressing on the audience.

Gareth Reeves selling “Poetry Durham”, Castle Chare, Durham 07/02/1986

The pictures of Seamus Heaney and Tony Jackson depend for their effect on the spillage of light from sources within the frame of the picture. Those of Jackson reading, and of his baffled audience, were on the other hand taken in the flat lighting of several fluorescent tubes, and depend for interest entirely on the figures themselves.

Jackson does have this effect on people. His work consists largely of a celebration of literary clichés, which he assembles in the spirit of DIY. No-one could feel the same about a spy thriller or a pornographic novel after taking a course of Jackson. He was, by a magnificent municipal misunderstanding, accused of bringing the Newcastle festival into disrepute in 1969 by reciting pornographic works.

Seamus Heaney, Morden Tower 18/02/1972

Tony Jackson, Colpitts, Durham 12/03/1976

Tony Jackson, Castle Chare, Durham 15/02/1980

His audience.

The lighting problem is essentially that of contrast. People sometimes ask me how I can take pictures in dim light without flash, but this is not the difficulty; provided the light is directional, its weakness is unimportant. Sometimes there is too much light, an example being the spotlight on the face of the pianist (plate 33b –Stitt). The result can then be an over-exposure sufficient to reduce the contrast, and the face is reduced to a white mask. Burning it in simply produces a grey mask; this can be seen in many a newspaper photograph taken with a flash mounted on the camera. In plate 52 B, however, a spotlight has produced an acceptable picture, because it comes from the side of the face.

(technical section on cameras and lenses removed from here)

Provided there is enough light, exposure is not critical. I usually meter a wall at the start, and adjust the exposure thereafter by guesswork, according to subject.

I use only monochrome, and have no experience of colour-print films of speed 1000 ISO and faster. I have yet to find anything for this sort of work to equal the conventional 400 ISO films such as Kodak Tri-X. Their claimed speed is genuine, and can be up-rated by extra development to a genuine 8000, and by genuine I mean with detail in the shadows, not merely density in the highlights of the negative.

For general photo technique my handbook is Eric de Mare’s Pelican book “Photography”. It is dated regarding cameras and some materials, though his recommendation of Ilford Microphen developer remains sound. I would add Kodak HC 110 used at double strength for up-rating speed; neither of these will produce fine grain with such a film, but I find a grain which would be objectionable in large areas of continuous tone such as skies to be acceptable in the sort of work shown here. The book is particularly informative on the pestilential and unavoidable subject of ‘spotting’ of prints to remove defects. ‘Burning in’ over exposed parts of the negative must sometimes be done, the screen in plate 37 A for example, which on a straight print would be plain white.

The Big Jug in Durham provided a variety of lighting, form daylight in the early summer evenings to dramatic spotlights. It was unusual in the wide and deep spread of the audience, and my f2.8 lens found most of its use there.

Peter Laver, ‘The Big Jug’, Durham 25/02/1983

Robert Sheppard, ‘The Big Jug’, Durham 05/03/1982

Tom Pickard paid a visit to read at the Jug in 1981, accompanied by his Polish wife. He was at that time spending half his year in Warsaw; she kept him in good order I think. Also visible in the picture with her is Geraldine Monk. She regarded me with a quizzical eye; we did not converse.

The Jug also provided good arrangements of the audience, with views from front, side and rear. Its poster covered walls were exciting at the start but soon became a cliché in the pictures, and I should have welcomed a return to Colpitts Contemporary.

Tom Pickard, ‘The Big Jug’, Durham, 19/06/1981

Mrs.Pickard (L), as above.

In the matter of arrangement the interests of the photographer and the reader surely co-incide. There can be nothing worse for either than the classroom arrangement, with the audience in parallel rows, facing the speaker. If it is set in some sort of ring whihch includes the reader, he feels part of the body of the people rather than set apart; and the photographer can place himself so as not to point his machine straight at the readers face, nor at most of the audiences, but can obtain various side angles.

The Castle Chare, no doubt because of its origin, was especially classroom-like at the start, and this re-appeared in the Staff Common Room in the Union building at Durham. Fancy lighting, or business with cabbage were needed to cope with this gloomy arrangement.

Ken Smith, Staff Common Room, Durham Union, 23/01/1987

Student with cabbage, Castle Chare, Durham 01/05/1980

U.A. Fanthorpe reading at the Staff Common Room, Durham Union, 20/02/1987

The entrance to the poetry reading room, Castle Chare, Durham 21/01/1983

X : Finnegans Wake

In the spring of 1982 John Cayley, specialist in Chinese at Durham University, had the idea of a collaborative reading of Finnegans Wake. It was open to all volunteers, none of whom turned out to be very familiar with the book; but all were enthusiastic, and eventually it became four readings, culminating on Bloomsday, June 16^th, in the large and hideous hall of the Castle Chare.

The first was in the small bar of the Colpitts Hotel, and since there was plenty of bright daylight I used the Rolleiflex; the next two were in the upstairs room of the Bridge Hotel, again at lunch time, and I used a fixed-lens compact camera, the Olympus 35RC, surely the best of its type ever produced, and still doing hard work.

I can claim to have read and re-read the whole of Finnegans wake, largely thanks to having borrowed the Skeleton Key, without which I should have given it up, baffled. Also to my invariable policy of skipping when a book begins to drag.

My mother first made me aware of the existence of “Work in Progress” , and I borrowed “Anna Livia Plurabelle” and “Two Tales of Shem and Shaun” from the admirable Croydon Public Library, but could make nothing of them, even after borrowing “Our Exagmination Round His Factification for Incamination of Work in Progress”. I first handled the whole book in 1954, again without success; it was a production of Mary Manning’s “The Voice of Shem” by the Questors Theatre, Ealing, in September 1958 which really introduced me to it; I bought the book, and later the record of Cyril Cusack reading Shem, and Siobhan McKenna reading ALP. This record was a great help when I chose to take the part of Shem in these co-operative readings. The main hazard was that of adopting a bogus Irish accent.

It so happened that my third and last son, Stephen, was born in March 1958. He was not a contented child in his early years; his immediately elder brother, Jeremy, was already showing that out-going character which was to make him a great party man – his parties in the early seventies have given me a rich photo-archive of goings-on. It became clear to me that here I had a classic case of Shem and Shaun, and I was most satisfied to find an existing artistic pattern in my own life.

Finnegans Wake is a fine funny poetic book, and this fact animates the pictures.

David Fuller and Anne Stevenson at the Finnegans Wake reading, Colpitts, 17/04/1982

At the same reading.

Patty O’Boyle and David Burnett at the Finnegans Wake reading, Bridge Hotel, Durham 08/05/1982

At the same reading.

Finnegans Wake reading, Bridge Hotel, Durham 22/05/1982

Bron Frith at the same reading.

Finnegans Wake reading, Castle Chare, Durham 16/06/1982

John Cayley, same occasion.

Overhead projection of the Wake, p617.

IX : The Booze

This element has already played a prominent part in the pictures. The Castle Chare eventually obtained a bar licence, and this made it a more cheerful place. The caretaker can be seen below, dispensing the stuff. Before that, one had to bring it in, and I had provided myself with a bottle of home-brew for John Montague’s reading; poor fellow, he was so overcome by drought that he begged a swig of it.

John Montague, Castle Chare, Durham 17/10/1980

Booze is not essential to the reading of poetry, though poets have spoken to us highly of it, notably Omar Khayam, via Edward Fitzgerald, Li Tai-Po, and Gustav Mahler, Chesterton and Belloc directly. As a school teacher I have often read poetry, dry. But most seem to prefer a drop; Basil Bunting usually had a whisky by him. A modest dose of alcohol can raise one to a higher plane, where truths and connections appear which had been hidden.

Basil Bunting, Harrogate, 11/08/1969

Geraldine Monk, Castle Chare, Durham 01/02/1980

Geraldine Monk with Bill Griffiths reading, Castle Chare, Durham 01/02/1980

Whether or not booze is desirable for poetic inspiration, I have found it essential for photographing readings: it simply provides Dutch courage. I often start out quite terrified of pointing a camera in these gatherings, and may sit through the whole of a first half without doing so; but as the magic of ethanol works the difficulties disappear.

There was no difficulty with Geraldine Monk, who took her own draughts, and based her performance on whisky as well as beer. On this occasion, maybe as a specific against nervous collapse, Geraldine did herself, and us, proud. The women in the audience are seldom as uninhibited, but they make nice pictures with their glasses. Many now take beer by the pint, as is proper. I don’t like half-pints, they make me nervous.

Curiously enough, the onset of intoxication does not make my hand shake, if anything I lose fewer frames to camera shake than when I’m sober.

Posy O’Neill, Castle Chare, Durham 17/05/1985

Hugo Williams (out of focus), Staff Common Room, Durham 06/03/1987

John Cayley, The Bridge Hotel, Durham 08/05/1982

XI : Reading to Children

The pictures in this book are related to performances of poems and other written works; and while I cannot give any general appreciation of them, it seems a pity not to say anything about their content. There is one specialised way in which I have had reason to assess them, and that is by their suitability for reading to children. Of course, most of them including Finnegans Wake were not written for that purpose.

I further specialise here, being concerned with audiences aged 11 to 16 years. By the time my own children were eleven I had practically stopped reading to them, and when they were young I chose, not to the exclusion of others, the firm foundation of Alice, Pooh Bear, and Ginger and Pickles. These are all books in which the adult reader can take as much pleasure as the child, and can better appreciate the sharp wit and psychological insight which inform them.

My readings at school were given as end of term treats to classes which normally came to me for science lessons. The requirements, in a comprehensive school of little academic distinction, are quite demanding, There is a certain amount of goodwill in the audience, without which the enterprise would be impossible, but not very much: the work must create its own appreciation. It must not call on too wide a cultural background or language ability, but it must treat the audience seriously; I reject the idea of purveying ‘the culture of the masses’.

My standard works for this purpose are by Hillaire Belloc, mainly his “Cautionary Tales”, and by Don Marquis, his “Archy and Mehitabel”. These are poetical, and make their impact by their music (good thumping rhythms and rhymes) and by their tart and cynical attitudes, which promote the child to the status of adult, complicit in their wickedness. My third standard work is in prose, “Cock-a-doodle-dont” by Ivor Cutler.

Ivor Cutler, Morden Tower, 16/09/1970

The same, 23/01/1976

Ivor Cutler, Morden Tower, 09/10/1980

Nigel Wells, listening to music, Coelfrith, Sunderland 02/12/80

Audience, listening to music, Coelfrith, Sunderland 02/12/80

Ivor Cutler’s quiet precise little Scots voice is familiar to those who listen to BBC Radio 3 and to his records. The pieces in this book are prose, much of it dialogue, which have the conciseness and craftsmanship of poems. Since they are in any case gnomic, the child is at no special disadvantage in failing to grasp their strict logic. They offer the reader some opportunity to perform too; “This Man Want that Woman” performed with sufficient energy and conviction, always makes a good end-piece.

To these authors I must add one, and only one work of his at that. This is “Nativity” by Nigel Wells, which is in his collection “Winter Festivals” (Bloodaxe Books, 1980). I have read this most Christmases since 1980 to school assemblies: it is a poem of great power.