Poetry Ireland Introductions 2013 Series One: Featured Writer: Brian Kirk

Dublin poet Brian Kirk

Dublin poet Brian Kirk

Over the course of the next few days and weeks, I’ll be posting interviews with those writers reading as part of the Poetry Ireland Introductions series 2013. One of this week’s featured writers is Dublin poet Brian Kirk, who reads this Thursday. 

Philip Cummins: What is your earliest memory of poetry at home or in school?

Brian Kirk: It has to be Patrick Kavanagh. Like thousands of others on this island, Kavanagh’s poems on both the Inter Cert. and Leaving Cert. syllabuses were a starting point. My father was station master at Iniskeen railway station in the 1950’s when Kavanagh was travelling between Iniskeen and Dublin regularly; I felt that I had a further and closer connection to him, in that way. My mother said that Kavanagh was a very vulgar man and I think that always impressed me, too. Apart from poetry there were, of course, song lyrics, which is how a lot of young people  develop an interest in words and what they can do. Punk was happening when I was a young teenager, so that whole idea that you could do anything that you wanted was prevalent at that time.

PC: Is there a particular poet, poem or book of poems that was, for you, like discovering rock n’ roll for the very first time? Can you describe what it was like?

BK: It’s funny; there was no particular poet at the outset. Yes, there was W.B. Yeats and Patrick Kavanagh, but I also loved Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg in my late teens and early twenties. I also liked William Blake from an early age and Percy Shelley and John Keats; I still read Blake and Shelley. The Romantics were very rock n’ roll!

PC: Which poets do you think best characterise the qualities that are found in your own poetry?

BK: I’d like to think that I write pretty direct poems that speak to people – not in a moralising  way – but as commentaries / meditations on modern life, private and public, in the manner of Blake or Yeats around the time of Responsibilities. Recently, I’m very influenced by Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Bishop and also the more playful work of Paul Muldoon and Paul Durcan. Scottish poet Don Patterson is also a particular favourite, at the moment.

PC: What was your first “Eureka!” moment in writing and publishing poetry; the moment when you realized “Hey, I’m actually on to something here!” in terms of your work coming together and first getting accepted and published in magazines and journals?

BK: I started out as a nineteen year old reading my (not very good) poetry in the Underground on Dame Street in the 1980’s to people who were there to see bands and not poets. Youth brings with it great self-belief! Though it was probably when I had a poem published for the first time in Night and Day, an anthology edited by Dermot Bolger for New Island about six years ago that I really felt that I’d done some good work. I’d been writing poems on and off for years, but that publication gave me the belief to write more regularly and to be rigorous in how I edited my work, which I think is the most important element of any kind of writing.

PC: Finally, if you could own and keep just three collections of poetry on your bookshelf- excluding, of course, your own- which collections would they be and why?

BK: This is impossible to answer. There are so many brilliant and diverse styles of poetry it would be impossible to reduce it down to three. One poem I would have to have would be John Milton’s Paradise Lost, but I’d also love Edward FitzGerald’s translation of the Rubiyat of Omar Khayam, and I’d want some T.S. Eliot and Sylvia Plath. Also, Theo Dorgan’s Greek, and two recent Salmon Poetry publications; Colm Keegan’s Don’t Go There and  John Murphy’s The Book of Water. Of course, I’d also want Howl by Allen Ginsberg, and many, many more. Sometimes you look for meaning in a poem; sometimes rhythm; sometimes sound; other times you just want beauty.

Brian Kirk reads as part of the first in a series of three readings as part of the Poetry Ireland Introductions readings series on Thursday 30th May at 6.30pm at the Irish Writers’ Centre, 19 Parnell Square, D1.

Also reading with Brian are:

Madeleine Barnes

Stephanie Conn

Annemarie Ní Churreáin

Venue: The Irish Writers’ Centre, 19 Parnell Square, D1
Time: Thursday @ 6.30pm
Admission: Free
T: (01) 8721302
E: info@poetryireland.ie

Poetry Ireland Introductions 2013 Series One: Featured Writer: Madeleine Barnes

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania poet Madeleine Barnes

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania poet Madeleine Barnes

Over the course of the next few days and weeks, I’ll be posting interviews with those writers reading as part of the Poetry Ireland Introductions series 2013. One of this week’s featured writers is American poet Madeleine Barnes, who reads on Thursday 30th May. 

Philip Cummins: What is your earliest memory of poetry at home or in school?

Madeleine Barnes: My mother Michelle Maher is a poet and she is my earliest and most influential memory of poetry.  I also have a memory of a day in fifth grade when my teacher asked the class to write a poem about something we were thankful for.  I wrote and illustrated a poem about a turkey and he read it aloud to the class.  I thought this was very exciting.

PC: Is there a particular poet, poem or book of poems that was, for you, like discovering rock n’roll for the very first time? Can you describe what it was like?

MB: When I read Rainer Maria Rilke’s poetry, I felt ecstatic, shaken, mesmerized by the musicality of his language and moved by the obsessive spirituality of his poems, especially those in the Book of Hours.  The lines from “Encounter in the Chestnut Avenue” had a powerful effect on me: “But suddenly the shade was deep, / and nearby eyes lay gazing // from a clear new unselfconscious face, / which, as in a portrait, lived intensely / in the instant things split off again: / first there forever, and then not at all.”  The sounds of these lines surprised me, and within them I found a perfect description of the transitory nature of living, which I had never been able to describe before—I was fourteen—and the last line, “first there forever, and then not at all” spoke to the way I experienced the wonder of living: in brief, irrecoverable instances.

PC: Which poets do you think best characterize the qualities that are found in your own poetry? 

MB: I think Louise Glück’s poetry contains similar obsessions with the breakdown of the body, the fluidity of memory, and the constant search for sharp, precise language.  Anne Carson’s poetry in Decreation (2005) shares my poetry’s tendency to question and undo the notion of identity, and Matthea Harvey’s poems in Pity the Bathtub Its Forced Embrace of the Human Form have influenced the shape and form of my poems for years.  My poems strive for the musicality and linguistic energy achieved in poems by Terrance Hayes and Louis MacNeice, and the narrative passion of Jim Daniels.  I will be working my whole life to create work of that caliber.

PC: What was your first “Eureka!” moment in writing and publishing poetry; the moment when you realized “Hey, I’m actually on to something here!” in terms of your work coming together and first getting accepted and published in magazines and journals?

MB: In high school I entered a poem called “Afterlife” into the Leonard L. Milberg ’53 Secondary School Poetry Prize competition judged by the faculty of the Princeton University Creative Writing Faculty, and it won.  I was so excited that I nearly went crazy because I thought that maybe, maybe I could also write poetry and make language my life in the way that poets I loved were able to.  This occurred at a pivotal time, right before I graduated high school, and I got to fly to Princeton where I met Paul Muldoon and C.K. Williams, who helped me decide to pursue poetry in college.

PC: Finally, if you could own and keep just three collections of poetry on your bookshelf- excluding, of course, your own- which collections would they be and why??

MB: I would keep Adrienne Rich’s Diving Into the Wreck for its bravery and haunted energy, Elizabeth Bishop’s Geography III for is perfection and resonance, and James Wright’s The Branch Will Not Break, because it contains a poem called “The Blessing” whose final lines continually change my life: “Suddenly I realize / that if I stepped out of my body I would break / into blossom.”

Madeleine Barnes reads as part of the first in a series of three readings as part of the Poetry Ireland Introductions readings series on Thursday 30th May at 6.30pm at the Irish Writers’ Centre, 19 Parnell Square, D1.

Also reading with Madeleine are:

Brian Kirk

Stephanie Conn

Annemarie Ní Churreáin

Venue: The Irish Writers’ Centre, 19 Parnell Square, D1
Time: Thursday @ 6.30pm
Admission: Free
T: (01) 8721302
E: info@poetryireland.ie

Author Interview: Novelist Helen Seymour, author of Beautiful Noise, interviewed by Philip Cummins

Making a noise: My interview with novelist Helen Seymour was published Rí-Rá: The entertainment supplement of The Irish Post.

Originally published in the print edition of The Irish Post on Wednesday April 27th, 2013

“I can tell you now that that cover is printed on 320 gsm and that the inside cover is 80 gsm Munken; I can tell you that the printer tried to pull the wool over my eyes and print it on 270 gsm and I had a fight with him; I can tell you that this is a single press: you can actually have a double press where you get like a little flat spine going along it; I can tell you it’s silk coated on both sides so that the photograph on the inside of the back is just a little bit shiny. I can tell you a lot about that and for a lot of people that would be scary, but for me it’s just advertising. So printing the book and publishing it didn’t scare me.”

Helen Seymour is a pro. Though she rejects the perception of herself as a ‘Celtic Tiger High Flyer’ (“That expression in itself is kind of bizarre”), when I meet the former advertiser, marketer and now first time novelist , she exudes the sort of confidence synonymous with those atop the crest of Ireland’s wave a decade ago.

Striding impressively across the upstairs foyer of Dublin’s Westbury hotel, the 44 year old arches her pink tinted Chanel sunglasses atop her head as she gestures towards me and greets me with a confident display of cordial pleasantries. She’s clearly used to meeting business professionals following 17 years at the coalface of marketing and advertising.

She leads the way as we find a table at which to seat ourselves. “Hmm…,” she says. ‘Too near the ailse. What about the window…that sun is strong…”

Seymour, a self- described “control freak” who used to run her own company, eventually settles on a table, seating herself on a couch and strategically placing herself within clear view of the outside clock of a pub down on the street, before ordering a double espresso.

For the next two hours she’ll prove engaging company as she discusses her bold move to follow her dream and jack- in her highly successful (and lucrative) day job in order to write her debut novel. Along the route she’ll touch on her friendship with Bono, the influence Ireland’s pirate radio stations of the 80’s had on her, and turning down an offer from renowned publisher, Harper Collins.

Beautiful Noise

Seymour’s novel, Beautiful Noise, a story of three young Dubliners who set up Studio One, a pirate radio station that takes on RTÉ, has been lauded by everyone from Roddy Doyle to Bono. The U2 frontman even launched the work in the full glare of the national media last February; unheard of, for a self- published writer.

Writing about a pirate radio in 1980’s Dublin, she says, came by default rather than design.

“I grew up in an era of no mobile phones, no internet,” Seymour says. “You had two television stations, five if you were lucky.” Wide- eyed with wonder, she recalls how she first discovered pirate radio stations such as Big D and Radio Dublin, a breeding ground for future RTÉ talent such as Dave Fanning and the late Gerry Ryan. She was struck, she claims, by the alternative ways of thinking and non- mainstream culture that pirate radio fed on.

“I was always going to be a writer, I think, though I didn’t know that back then. But writing was always what I wanted to do; it was at the heart of who I was. So worlds interested me and there were all these fascinating little worlds. And I used to just sit there, night after night, going up and down the dial.”

In fact, Seymour’s years listening to pirate radio partly influenced her move into advertising at age 21 and, from the off, she begun working within the medium.

“I remember on my first day [in advertising] my boss said ‘“Get your coat, we’re going to 2FM; we’ve won the 2FM PR account.”’, she recalls. “So by no great plan of my own, I went from a position- and I never married the two in my head at the time, but it’s only in hindsight when I look back- that I married the obsession with pirate radio as a teenager to suddenly, properly working for professional radio. And we had the Coca Cola account and they spent so much money in 2FM. 98FM and FM104 had just been launched…I was constantly in and out of those stations doing promotions, sponsorships, radio events.” All of which to say, that Seymour’s didn’t choose to write about radio- it simply chose her.

Seymour’s other childhood obsession was of course the written word. An avid reader as a child, she talks glowing of Enid Blyton’s novels before spending time in the company of Jilly Cooper and Joan Collins. She reserves her highest praise, however, for John Irving’s The World According to Garp, which chronicles the life of writer T.S. Garp and his feminist mother, Jenny.

“Nothing was ever quite the same after ‘…Garp’. No book was ever the same. I kept reading the girls books and they were just like ‘blah’. Like the books in school- Pride and Predjudice, Henry James…you know, they were good, but nothing excited me the way ‘Garp’ excited me; that was somebody with a real voice: a voice that spoke to me.”

She would later read two more books that leave a similar impression on her: Zadie Smith’s White Teeth, which she read as a 30 year old, and Roddy Doyle’s The Commitments, a novel involving the music scene in Dublin which, like Seymour’s Beautiful Noise was Doyle’s first book and which he initially self- published.

Reflecting on her 17 years, in marketing and advertising, Seymour has, seemingly, no regrets. If anything, she seems to have enjoyed it.

“What I didn’t realize was that advertising was satisfying my creative needs, because it was “write a radio ad, design it next week”, “design a press ad…”, you’re constantly creating and it’s very instantaneous; it’s not “oh, I’ll sit in my room for five years and write a novel and hope that someone will buy it and put it out.” You see your work driving past you on trucks, you see it on TV., so it satisfied my creative needs for a long time. But somewhere along the line, something began knocking at the door about writing. It was just like “I’d love to write, I’d love to write and I just didn’t believe that I could leave my job and become a writer. I mean, how would I earn money? How would I live how would I survive?”

Eventually, at age 38, cynicism towards the notoriously cut throat, shark-infested waters of advertising began to seep in. After a gruelling three month interview process for a high- powered role with a British charity,  she was offered the role only for the job to fall through before contracts were signed. By this stage, however, she had relinquished control of her company and found herself ‘standing on the tarmac with my suitcase packed but with nowhere to go. She her mind up there and then to get out of advertising.

“I was gutted. That three month process ended my relationship with advertising. I had no idea where I was going, where I was going to go. A friend of mine lived in Martha’s Vineyward. I had some savings and I’d never taken any extended leave; it was always just the two week holiday. After 6 weeks, I did a four day writing course. I turned each one of my stories into a comedy. On the last day, I felt the electricity that I first felt when I started writing. My arm was on fire.”

After returning from the states in January 2007, refreshed and energised  she moved back in with her mum at her house in Howth and took a job as waitress in The Oar House restaurant in Howth, where her new co- workers had once recognised her as a regular customer. She describes it as a job that doesn’t drain her brain power as advertising did, leaving her with plenty of energy to focus on her prose writing.

On the Path to Publication

Soonafter, Seymour approached Marrianne Gunn O’Conner, the Irish based literary super- agent, who took her on under the condition of a title change from Studio One and that Seymour cut 30,000 words.

A deal with Harper Collins soon followed and Seymour’s path to literary glory seemed assured. It all came to sudden halt, however.

“After signing with Harper, they came back and suggested a title change: I’d already done one title change and didn’t fancy doing another at that stage. It was originally titled Studio One. So I started working with Harper. Then Harper gave me the first set of edits. Let’s say they gave me ten notes. And they way they give it to you is over the phone and through bullet points. I didn’t agree with any of their ten bullet points. None of them.

“And my agent, Marianne, said to me; “Look, I want you to take these and sit with them and think about them and come back.” So I took a month off work. A friend of mine was selling her house; the house was empty. I went in with a portable table and chair and did nothing for a month but sat and look and digest their edits. And I did about 50% of them. I knew, deep down, however, that I had to make my own book; it wouldn’t be my book if I took all their editorial suggestions. Edits are very important and it’s an art in itself. But it’s also so objective. I couldn’t let the book out there unless I was 100% happy with the overall product.”

Eventually, Seymour self published and her mix of DIY punk ethics and her expertise in design came to the fore. Within months, she had printed the book in Sweden at almost half the price that eight printers in Ireland had offered her. Gill & MacMillan took care of VAT, invoicing, distribution to bookshops.


But Seymour’s success in publishing the book became more visible when she pulled in heavy hitters from her address book. Launching in 37 Dawson Street to the national media and a guestlist of 500 friends, family, writers and former advertising colleagues, Bono launched the book. The question on everyone’s lips, then, was how does a self published writer- without the publicity machine of Harper Collins- pull in such a name?

The connection is through the U2 singer’s wife. Seymour has been close friends with the U2 singer and wife Ali for 14 years, coming into contact with Ali after working with Gavin Friday on Muc, flying pig / money box aimed at raising funds and awareness for Kosovo. Seymour had designed Friday’s marketing campaign. Impressed with Seymour’s savvy marketing and advertising skills, he put her in contact with Hewson, who was similarly trying to raise awareness for Sellafield. It was through Ali that she became friends with the U2 singer.

It seems to be sensitive topic for Seymour; though she’s willing to openly talk about her friendship with the power couple, she’s quick to quash the idea that she simply pulled in celebrity pals to push her book.

“When it came to launching the book, it wasn’t about badging on a celebrity. Now, look, of course, from a publicity point of view: you get the frontman of the biggest band in the world, it’s not gonna hurt, but it actually made sense: he’d read the book, twice, you know? He’d been with me on the journey. So it wasn’t like “you’re my pal and you’re famous will you launch my book?” He also gave me a blurb for the back cover of the book. So it would have been stupid not to ask him to launch the book.

“Bono asked about this story from day one. He loved the story- the pirate radio story, because U2 got a lot of their early singles played on pirate radio; it was a big part of how they got started here. And he asked what the story was about. He was always very interested, y’know, he’s amazing and she is amazing and he asked me a lot about the story and so did she. And I was coming to the end of the story, we were out one day- I can’t even remember where we were- and he asked “how’s it going?” and I said “I’m nearly there.” And he said to me “Would you like me to read it?” And he just offered. “Would you like me to read it?” They had been friends for years- I had never asked for any favours; I wouldn’t because they get so many people swinging out of them for things and they do so much for their friends…I just love their company their great people. I admire them- I admire their work ethic, they’re two of the hardest working people I know, they’re so good to all their friends, not just to me, and to the wider world, and they’re inspiring- both of them. I look up to them- apart from being my friends, they’re people that I look up to, that I admire as people.”

From Page to Screen

Bono’s tip of the hat to Beautiful Noise has given Seymour a launch- pad from which to get her novel out. Also showing a strong work ethic, she has two other novels on the go as well as a screenplay for the film adaptation of Beautiful Noise.

Optioned by Dundalk- born director John Moore (who recently helmed A Good Day to Die Hard), the proposed feature has received development funding from the Irish Film Board and has Damien O’Donnell (East is East, Heartlands, Inside I’m Dancing) attached to direct.

Soon, though, the clock that Seymour had first position herself towards at 10 am is nearing 12pm. Though I’m sure the self described “yapper” would probably continue talking, we part amid excited chatter as to the film adaptation and with a firm sense that Seymour’s world- beating drive and Hollywood glamour may soon find her a million miles away from Studio One.

Paul Buchanan – Mid Air

Walking on air: Blue Nile singer- songwriter Paul Buchanan is back with his debut solo album, Mid Air.

In his essay ‘The Blue Nile: Family Life’, Marcello Carlin observes that “On every Blue Nile album there is a moment where time is literally stopped and emotion laid open and bare”. Eight years on from The Blue Nile’s previous- some say last- ever- album High, Paul Buchanan, the bands singer- songwriter, has finally delivered the solo album that many long- time fans of The Blue Nile have anticipated. Buchanan’s Mid Air is an album of thirteen, three- minute, piano- led songs and one instrumental, all of which get to straight to the heart of Carlin’s astute observation.

Recorded by Cameron Malcolm (son of long- time Blue Nile producer / engineer Calum Malcolm), the success of Mid Air is largely down to the compression and brevity of Buchanan’s songs, which are as condensed and companionable as short lyric poems. The minimal arrangements that adorn each song eschew the sometimes too slickly produced, glossy feel of later Blue Nile records. Mid Air‘s opening title track features a beautifully restrained vocal from Buchanan, underpinned by light, electronic, orchestral strings. Like Tom Waits- whose common influence of Frank Sinatra looms large on Mid Air– Buchanan delicately croons and plays simple, elementary scales to stunning, emotionally intense effect, most evidently so on album highlight ‘Cars in the Garden’.

Originally given the working title of Minor Poets of the 19th Century (after a book that Buchanan bought in his local Oxfam) Buchanan’s literate lyrics recall Larkin (‘Wedding Party’), Plath (‘Two Children’) and Yeats (‘My True Country’). Prior to recording Mid Air, a close personal friend of Buchanan’s passed on; no surprise, then, that, lyrically, the tone and mood of Mid Air is elegiac. Buchanan, however, extends the elegiac tone beyond bereavement; ‘Newsroom’ is a lament to the last days of print journalism (Last out the newsroom/ Please put the lights out/ There’s no- one left alive), while ‘My True Country’, featuring one of Buchanan’s most impassioned and convincing vocal performances, celebrates an imagined paradise. The portrayal of urban loneliness in the full glare of neon signs during the night- time hours- a central and defining characteristic of a Blue Nile song- is mostly absent on Mid Air, save for ‘Half the World’ and the sublime album- closer, ‘After Dark’.

In Mid Air, Buchanan has crafted an accomplished collection of beautiful, honest songs that, like Joni Mitchell’s Blue and Tom Waits’ Closing Time, rely heavily on the strength of their lyrics, their modest arrangements, and humble, delicate, fragile, convincing vocal performances. A Mercury Music Prize nomination must, surely, be mid- air.

Also available on State.ie

Bright Eyes / Neva Dinova – One Jug of Wine, Two Vessels

Bright Eyes / Neva Dinova – One Jug of Wine, Two Vessels

(Saddle Creek)

It’s unusual for Conor Oberst to move backwards. Over the past ten years, the Omaha, Nebraska native– once described by Rolling Stone  as “Rock’s boy genius”– has, in total, released eleven records under various guises including Monsters of Folk and two albums with The Mystic Valley Band. His revisiting of 2004′s One Jug of Wine, Two Vessels – the first four tracks of which are exclusive to the 2010 reissue– is a welcome journey back home to Bright Eyes, his original and best know moniker.

As the title suggests, the sessions began when Oberst and Neva Dinova frontman Jake Bellows brought out the guitars over, well, one jug of wine. The Dylan comparisons, which heightened after Bright Eyes’ magnum opus, the 2005 Iraq Invasion- influenced I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning, are largely redundant here, with Oberst deconstructing folk songs using the DIY sonic textures that so defined Lifted and Letting Off The Happiness. Eighties pop is favored instead of sixties folk, chiefly that of The Cure; whether it’s the guitars on ‘Rollerskating’, which echo ‘In Between Days’, or Oberst’s Robert Smith-style wailing throughout. The contrast between Oberst’s fraught, intense voice works starkly against the smooth, laid back vocal of Bellows, whose earthy tones are reminiscent of My Morning Jacket’s Jim James.

Of the four new songs that grace this reissue, ‘I Know You’ is the most memorable. Oberst’s urgent, weighty inflections recall Leonard Cohen and the overall production of the song- right from his guitar playing to the reverb heavy snare drum which haunts throughout- has the feel of a long lost folk album. The abstractions in the lyrics make leaps and gaps that close tighter with each listen.

As the record ploughs on though, the mood and feel of the songs proves too sedate, too predictable and what follows isn’t as engaging as the opening four tracks. The novelty of the stylistic comparisons between Bright Eyes and Neva Dinova eventually wears off and the record never fully takes you to unexpected places. What is most visible; however, is Oberst’s growth from a crumbling 20- something year old alternative folk singer– songwriter, screaming into a four- track in the bedroom of his parent’s home to a mature, well– paced and fully formed songwriter; undoubtedly the most skilled of his generation.

A record purely for Bright Eyes completists, the uninitiated should first venture to Fevers and Mirrors and I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning to gauge the development of this truly outstanding talent.

Originally published by State.ie

©  Philip Cummins. All rights reserved.