Saturday
The next morning, I made my way back to the Object Manipulation Research Lab with a vengeance, having been tipped off during one of the many varied conversations with different people on Friday that there was in fact a door. Nursing a very large beaker of coffee, I was able to find my way into the tent, which was, funnily enough, disguised suspiciously like a door. Inside I found many tired people and a collection of very inventive artwork, which had obviously been reaping the benefit of many hours of dedication and absolutely no sleep. I was particularly impressed with an old gramophone that had been tweaked to blow bubbles. There was also a sculpture made entirely of orange peel (and an artist who had eaten nothing but oranges in the lead-up). I opted to take part in a sensory drawing, which involved sitting quietly on the ground while a blindfolded artist drew my face as she could feel it with only her fingertips. After admiring the resultant picture, I then pored over a selection of potato sculptures, before deciding to go and see “Constellations 2: Cosmic Longpoems, Poetic Systems and Weather Patterns.”
This paper presentation was exceptionally varied, covering a broad range of topics and ways in which to present them, ultimately with a focus on the implication of emotions in poetic language. I was particularly intrigued by the video exploration of fragmentary images, colours and voices (my PhD Sappho studies rearing up again and reminding me that I hadn’t actually done anything to do with them in almost twenty-four hours. Shaking and twitching followed shortly). Discussions then moved to consider long poems as ‘cosmological’; a means of studying your own position in the universe, especially relevant to medieval and early modern poetics (and of course, Charles Olson). The same sorts of ideas were then highlighted in Shakespeare’s King Lear, but through the imagery of storms, which was a refreshing return to undergraduate studies for me (is it bad that I still got a thrill from being able to put up my hand and say something on-topic during question time?)
Next, I made my way back to Crackhouse and was pleasantly surprised to find another rendition of Steve Smart’s poetry reading, which I was able to listen to and enjoy with the benefit of full sobriety and unaffected hearing. Drinking with several people did, of course, resume soon afterwards, as well as very animated conversation. I then moved into the next room to watch the panel “21st Century Puppetry: A Roadmap,” only to find myself well and truly out of my range of expertise. The discussion on sub-genres of puppetry was fascinating, but perhaps a bit lost on me, considering my absolute lack of knowledge in this field. The only experiences I have previously had with puppets involve a distinct suspicion towards anything remotely clown shaped or with a porcelain face. Nevertheless, the panel discussions still offered new ways of considering puppets in general.
Later on, a debate (if it could be called that), was held between the visiting performance poets and representatives from theatre, dance and circus arts. This was more of an exercise in particularly eloquent name-calling, eventually degenerating into a handstand competition, vehement monologues, a shouting match, and an eventual loss on the poets’ side. Either way, it was incredibly entertaining and set the mood for the rest of the evening, including Candy Royalle’s “Love Spectacular” performance poetry, which went on to prove that irrespective of the results of the aforementioned shouting match, performance poetry can be truly superb. I personally have a lot of respect for anyone who can recite and sing over forty minutes’ worth of poetry, complete with costume changes and music. I then wandered off in search of the Soundwave musical event, but was unable to negotiate the crowds and decided that my complete lack of music talent probably meant that it too would be lost on me. I walked back to the hotel, and promptly decided not to do that again.
