Wow what a cool line-up! Would so love to be there for this one.
Full details here
Wow what a cool line-up! Would so love to be there for this one.
Full details here
For Lauris 2
You had a gift for friendship.
When someone rang, you’d say,
“Ah, Liz” or “Ah, Murray” with a special
flicker on their name, as if the call
had made your day. Your first
collection came out when you were
fifty-one. You knew about grief,
pain, didn’t pretend to be young.
You knew all about “the small
events’ unmerciful momentum”.
You gained a readership as large
and loyal as that of a novelist.
(You’ll forgive me if I mention
you were a really lousy driver
and that your white cat sometimes had fleas.)
You treated other poets as pen pals
absorbed in the same enthralling enterprise,
not as rivals, threats or enemies.
It was a stiff pull up that path
to 22 Grass St – that rainbow
letterbox – but always worth it.
Harry Ricketts teaches English Literature and creative writing at Victoria University of Wellington Te Herenga Waka. His Selected Poems will be coming out from Victoria University Press later this year.
Takapuna Poetry Tour 2 pm, 8 May, Takapuna
The Takapuna Poetry Tour features contemporary poets performing poems in response to Takapuna and its writing history. Join us for spoken word and poetry on the streets. Poets include Jack Ross, Renee Liang, Kiri Piahana Wong, Elizabeth Morten and Ruby Porter.
Walking In Lockdown 7 pm, 28 April, Ellen Melville Centre
Five writers, Russell Brown, Nisha Madhan, Karlo Mila, Zech Soakai and Kennedy Warne, tell their stories of walking in a time of COVID-19.
Full details of Urban walking events
From 22 April to 16 May, some of Auckland’s most enthusiastic city-lovers will be celebrating their place with free walking tours throughout our city’s neighbourhoods and I’m delighted to let you know the programme for the Urban Walking Festival 2021 is now online.
At the heart of the festival are 37 walks hosted by city-loving guides and local residents who will share the stories, beloved experiences and hidden gems of their local neighbourhood. The extensive programme includes urban hikes, guided tours, sensory explorations and opportunities to dance as well as an exciting mix of community-initiated walks and a stimulating programme of talks and films reflecting on walking in the city.
The Urban Walking Festival 2021 is inspired by the annual international festival of free, citizen-led walking conversations Jane’s Walks which celebrate writer and urban activist Jane Jacobs. Jane’s Walks happen across the globe and encourage people to share stories about their neighbourhoods, discover unseen aspects of their communities and use walking as a way to connect with their neighbours.
This year we’re delighted to include two free open-air screenings of Citizen Jane: Battle for The City in our festival line-up. This fascinating documentary follows Jane Jacob’s fight to save historic New York City from wholesale demolition and redevelopment during the 1960s. Screenings will be held in the city at Aotea Square and in Takapuna at 38 Hurstmere.
We couldn’t hit the streets without Eke Panuku and Auckland Transport whose support and assistance has helped us to grow the Urban Walking Festival 2021 to what it is today, with highlights such as:
Walking In Lockdown.
Five writers, including Russell Brown, Nisha Madhan, Karlo Mila, Zech Soakai and Kennedy Warne, tell their stories of walking in a time of COVID-19.
Henderson Night Hikoi.
Discover the night ecology of Henderson by exploring the hidden bush spots and trails around the Opanuku stream and Waikumete streams as the night falls over the town centre.
The Takapuna Poetry Walk and Citizen Jane: Battle for the City.
A poetry walk from Takapuna Beach to 38 Hurstmere, followed by an outdoor screening of the documentary Citizen Jane: Battle for the City.
Silent Disco City Walks.
Two new routes from the award-winning Silent Disco Citywalk, offering an energetic, multi-sensory outdoor experience and a new perspective on Ponsonby and Grey Lynn.
From Moses to Merge.
An urban hīkoi led by people who have lived experience of sleeping rough through the Karangahape Road precinct
Bernadette Hall, Fancy Dancing: New and Selected Poems 2004 -2020, Victoria University Press, 2020
Campfires flicker in the night, ice masks the harbour.
I’ve made up my mind at last. I’m going to walk across
to see the others. We can sit down then
and talk about poetry, the way ‘water’ chimes
with ‘daughter’ and is there any news of her yet.
2020 was a year rich in New Zealand poetry and I am still dipping into my wee stack for treasures. I have long been a fan of Bernadette Hall’s poetry with its sumptuous sound and visual effects, its wide roving subject matter, and its agile engagement with ideas, experience and feeling, it’s humour.
Interestingly, picking up Fancy Dancing set me on a slightly different response to the poetry, because I stalled on Robyn Webster’s artwork before I read the poems. Robyn’s works are enticing. They appear like a fusion of needlework, embroidery and painting with maybe a whiff of printmaking. I haven’t seen them in real life so am only connecting with them as illustrations in a book and have no idea of the media. I am struck by the allure of threads, branches and tributaries, by a colour palette that shifts between soothing harmonies and piquant contrasts. There is both simplicity and intricacy.
Here I am stalling on the artworks and I see them as shadow maps of the poetry. To think of Bernadette’s poetry as rich in tributaries, branches and threads is rewarding. One thread takes you along Irish roads into experience and ancestors, another into ice and snow and the Antarctic. Gardens and friends, weather and the sea, the mountain and the angels are stitched exquisitely along the lines. There is the close-at-hand and there is the wider world. There is the warmth in harmonies and the edge in contrasts. It was so satisfying to read my way through samples from the collections I am familiar with (The Ponies (2007), The Lustre Jug (2009), Life & Customs (2013) and Maukatere, floating mountain (2016).
The final section is devoted to new poems, including an exquisite sonnet sequence that is akin to brocade it is so rich in effect. Bernadette’s included author bio is revelatory : “And as for the wilful sonnets that explode in the final pages of this book, she wonders where on earth they came from. ‘It was such fun writing them,’ she says, ‘as if I‘d kicked down the stable doors and taken to the hills.’”
If I continue making analogies with the artwork, I see the 25 sonnets as embroidery at its most intricate and dazzling. Classical threads are stitched into a contemporary context, the personal is threaded with the fictional, the imagined with the recalled. Both Phaedra and the poet are shadowy presences, their back narratives bubbling beneath the surface. The poet speaks:
Now it’s time to expand the narrative. So come
with me into a dimly lit corridor in the Mayflower
Student Hostel beside the Mississippi River
in Iowa. (…)
Think of brocade that glints and gleams and offers pocket narratives and pinches of the surreal. Guests make appearances: friends, family, writers, artists, goddesses. You will hear rain and footsteps, but you will also hear the sumptuous audio effects that are a trademark of Bernadette’s writing. Such an ear for the resounding line. I keep wanting to quote lines to you, whole sonnets.
In sonnet xix, the ‘crazy lady, how she strides down Cuba Mall in full combat gear’ declares the area is under control. The poem culminates in the poet/speaker imagining how she would behave kindly if it were a movie: she would approach the woman in combat gear saying, ‘Thank you, / I feel so much safer in this crazy world with you around.’
I am repeatedly drawn to sonnet xxiv, a sonnet dedicated to grandchildren, a sonnet that sways between past and present, between Italian marble and four children harbour swimming, ‘their arms / like triangle roof-lines’. The image is potent, the shiver between past and present fertile, and the ending so very moving:
(…) How long it took to see
the eating, drinking, gulping, feasting of the water
body, the spasmodic sun, the specific shade.
Beautiful children, you are forever and thereafter
swimming me to shore. I could not love you more.
The final sonnet is a form of counting blessings as it gives thanks. It becomes a rich celebratory brocade, luminous and heartfelt, a gift for ear and eye. I will pin this sonnet to my study wall as I continue to give thanks to poetry, to the things near me, to what gives me courage and furnishes each precious day.
Let us give thanks for the cranesbill geranium
and the mouse eared myositis,
for the ranunculus (little frog mouth, little friend),
for the feathered nival zone, for the bug moss
in the tarn, for all that is and all that
has been and all that is to come. It is for us
to keep our courage firm, to nurse our appointed
pain, to await ‘that which springs ablaze of itself’.
from sonnet xxv
Fancy Dancing showcases the work of one of our most treasured poets. The poems will dance in your ear and on your tongue, in your limbs and in your heart. Take a read. Pick a favourite and pin it to the wall. Take heart from this gift of poetry.
Bernadette Hall is Otago born and bred. Following a long and much enjoyed career as a high school teacher in Dunedin and Christchurch, she has for the last eighteen years lived in a renovated bach at Amberley Beach in the Hurunui, North Canterbury, where she has built up a beautiful garden. Fancy Dancing is her eleventh collection of poetry. ‘It’s as close as I’ll ever get to writing an autobiography,’ she says, laughing. And as for the wilful sonnets that explode in the final pages of this book, she wonders where on earth they came from. ‘It was such fun writing them,’ she says, ‘as if I‘d kicked down the stable doors and taken to the hills.’ In 2015 she collaborated with Robyn Webster on Matakaea, Shag Point, an art /text installation exhibited at the Ashburton Art Gallery. In the same year she was awarded the Prime Minister’s Award for literary achievement in poetry. In 2017 she was made a Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit for services to literature in Aotearoa New Zealand.
Victoria University Press page
Poetry Shelf sonnet from Fancy Dancing
ANZL review by Lynley Eadmeades
Best NZ Poems, sonnet from Fancy Dancing
Emma Barnes reads four poems from I Am in Bed with You, Auckland University Press, 2021
‘Maiden Mother Crone’
‘Completely dry riverbed’
Emma Barnes lives and writes in Pōneke / Wellington. They have just released their first book I Am In Bed With You. For the last two years they’ve been working with Chris Tse on an anthology of LGBTQIA+ and Takatāpui writing to be released this year by Auckland University Press. They work in Tech and spend a lot of time picking heavy things up and putting them back down again.
Auckland University Press page
Not even hurt
We are wearing the t-shirt proclaiming peace
We are walking the talk in the street
We are over sung and under weight
We are procreating far too late
We are smug and deceitful
We are crippled and smoke-filled
We are ripe with forgiveness with
none to forgive
We even pray for a moment —
it cant hurt to imagine
some finer godly cerebellum
We believe we breathe sanctuary
We believe we live well—
our fingertips tell us what we
believe in is hell
Click-clacking click-clacking like the
click of a pen, only treacherous seas
threaten to bring all to an end
From water we sloshed with mud on our shoes
to water we slither leaving no clues
A species a family a swarm and a tribe
And now not an echo of heartbeat inside
A gaggle a tangle a sleuth and a web
amoeba and diatoms what’s left just a thread
And so it goes
What will be?
Philosophers, painters rolled into one
We try to hook on but our claws are too short
Pride is deflated our nestlings all caught
One egg insufficient to keep up the plot
Chemical peels too late give over to rot
We sing and we diet and we cannot keep quiet
Like the stone and the river a ruckus a riot
Glue and cement a tiny toehold
Now withered, a memory of once was so bold
So this is the tale of what happens when
stories of heroes parade simulacra of men
Without texture, delight, humour or spice
heads bowed, genuflect, try to make nice
What is left are the tailings, the shit heap the pile
Naked mole rats shuffle and eat all our bile
Ant pathways like accordions filter the dirt
We feel nothing at all, not even hurt
Reihana Robinson: Starting out near year end of 2019 there was the beautiful volume Ko Aotearoa Tatou/We are New Zealand (An anthology) I had the fortune to join. Next up was Nga kupu Waikato Kotahitanga online, video and exhibition with creator Vaughan Rapatahana at the helm.
Love in the Time of Covid Chronicle of a Pandemic through the good graces of Michelle and Witi brought me to the surface of writing after a spell of painting. Astonishing art and inspirational writing from around the world.
The year of 2020 was a year of editing both a new volume of poetry and a collection of poems for young voices. The new volume is woven, not like tukutuku or taniko (no absolute pattern). There are beginnings and a few endings that bleed, come together and come apart. Poems stitched with threads of rural misenchantment, misplaced desire and simmering memories that hover just over the horizon. Characters fledge their wings and some fly, some die. Language both gentle and brutal.
Tōku Pāpā, Ruby Solly, Victoria University Press, 2021
Over the past year, in all my musings and readings, books have felt so very precious. Books crossing myriad categories, books for adults and books for children. Poetry has been especially precious. Aotearoa is alive with poetry communities; there’s such a richness of voice on the page and in the air (and on the screen). And it is so valued.
Pick up a poetry book, hold the book in your hand and feel its preciousness. I picked up Ruby Solly’s debut collection and it felt like I was holding love. The love imbued in the stitches and seams of its making. The photograph will hold you still and steady and already you know that in this book people will be at its heart. Its core.
Enter a poetry book that catches your heart and every pore of your skin, and you enter a forest with its densities, its shadows and lights, canopies and breaths, re-generations. You will meet oceans and rivers and enter different ebbs and flows, different currents, fluencies. You will reach the sky with its infinite hues, dreamings, navigations, weatherings (storm washed, sunlit, moonlit). You will meet the land with its lifeblood, embraces, loves, whānau, anchors.
This is what happens when I read Ruby Solly’s Tōku Pāpā.
When you first told me
that you gave me the name of our tupuna
so that I would be strong enough
to hold our family inside my ribcage,
I believed you.
The collection is in two connected parts, like the two parts of a heart, ‘awe’ and ‘kura’, two nouns linked by feathers, leading us to the ‘essence of soul’, ‘strength, power, influence’ and the red feathers used as ‘decoration, treasure, valued possession, heirloom, precious possession, sacred, divine law, philosophy, darling, chief’, and the ability to glow.
The untitled poem that begins the collection (quoted in part above), before awe and kura, addresses ‘you’, and in this heart-opening the poet draws deep into the knowledge and love and whānau that shape and nourish her, the wairua, the dark places and the light.
I am reminded of Robert Sullivan’s terrific poem ‘Voice Carried My Family’ (AUP). Voice carries Ruby, and her voice ‘carries’ everyone she thanks in her acknowledgement page. The collection has myriad tributaries, but a key river is finding voice. She is addressing her Pāpā. She is voicing her relationship and that voice is modulated as musician, as poet, as human being. She is listening to the past and the present, she is writing a river, an ocean, the sky, the land. A forest. A whānau.
The words flow like a solo instrument, with the poet as bow and breath.
There is stillness and movement, and there is always heart. You will find yourself in the scene, and the scene will pulsate and be luminous with life:
We sit together in silence,
deep in the mountain’s quiet heart.
Watching our breath melt away
the walls around us.
from ‘He Manawa Maunga’
There is a road trip to the ballet and a machete blade to be readied for work. Custard tarts are eaten as a car fills with smoke. There are swimming lessons. There is underwater and above water. There is finding the current and then finding breath. There is warmth and there is wisdom.
I especially love ‘Eulogy’ and the father wisdom:
As a child
whenever I was angry,
my father would tell me to write a eulogy
to the person who had caused me pain.
He said that by the end of it
I would see
that even those who cause us pain
are precious to the world.
This precious book – that in its making, its stands, rests and journeys from and towards so much – is the reason why I cannot stop reading and sharing thoughts on and writing my own poetry. The book is a gift and like so many other readers I am grateful. Kia ora Ruby. Thank you.
Ruby Solly (Kāi Tahu, Waitaha, Kāti Māmoe) is a writer, musician and taonga pūoro practitioner living in Pōneke. She has been published in journals such as Landfall, Starling and Sport among others. In 2020 she released her debut album, Pōneke, which looks at the soundscapes of Wellington’s past, present and future through the use of taonga pūoro, cello, and environmental sounds. She is currently completing a PhD in public health, focusing on the use of taonga pūoro in hauora Māori. Tōku Pāpā is her first book.
Victoria University Press page
Ruby talks with Kathryn Ryan on Nine to Noon
On Poetry Shelf: Ruby’s poem ‘Pōria‘
On Poetry Shelf: Ruby’s poem ‘Dedication‘
Ruby Solly premieres a video for her new album Pōneke and a wānanga with essa may ranapiri
Cover photograph: Taaniko Nordstrom and Vienna Nordstrom, Soldiers Rd Portraits
Poet Laureate David Eggleton has edited the latest edition of Best NZ Poems 2020. He concludes his introduction with these words:
I hope you will enjoy reading these poems as much I have on my year-long odyssey for which I didn’t have to leave home. I’m glad to have had the privilege of the journey and its discoveries. Discoveries rather than judgements because poems are essentially playful and deeply wilful and a law unto themselves and won’t be judged. As the American poet Archibald MacLeish put it in his brilliant formulation about the art of poetry: ‘A poem should not mean/ But be.’
I had already read most of the poems – but I loved revisiting them. Poems are like albums; you can put them on replay and they just get better.
Go here for poems, introduction and audios.
The 2021 Sargeson Prize launches today, on Thursday April 1.
The Sargeson Prize is New Zealand’s richest short story prize, supporting our country’s creative writing talent – including the younger generation. Now in its third year, the competition is named for celebrated New Zealand writer Frank Sargeson, and is sponsored by the University of Waikato. It was established by Catherine Chidgey, Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing at the University of Waikato, in 2019.
Acclaimed New Zealand writer Patricia Grace is the chief judge in this year’s Sargeson Prize.
“We are enormously lucky to have her as a judge, and she brings such mana to the competition,” says Chidgey. “She’s put New Zealand literature on the map internationally, and she’s hugely respected. Her stories are well-known and loved.”
For more information on the Sargeson Prize, see the attached media release or visit the University of Waikato website here.
This year, winning stories in both the Open and Secondary Schools category will be published online on ReadingRoom, the literary arm of Newsroom.