Festival Under The Clock is a one day festival happening on 20th March. One of the events on the day is MuteFish, a band that mixes trad Irish with Eastern European music in a very exciting, very energetic way. Here's a sample.........come for the rest!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Programme of Events (Festival Under The Clock)
TOWN HALL RATHMINES
(Please note there is limited capacity in the Town Hall. Admission on a
first come basis. All events are FREE.)
Saturday 20th March
1:00pm Anatoly Kudryavitsky
Reading by the Russian-Irish novelist, poet and literary translator.
1:45pm Vereneja
Dance group with an eastern European
heritage, perform dances from all over the world.
2:15pm Ostroha Dance Group
Slovakian Dancers performing traditional
Eastern European folk. A Cultural event to be enjoyed by all the family.
3:00pm Vladimir Jablokov
This Slovakian violinist and his quartet
are a must see, giving the audience a
truly unique performance.
4.15pm MuteFish
Traditional music as you’ve never seen it before. A high energy performance.
8.00pm Eric Lalor
After touring with Des Bishop on his
record breaking “Fitting In Tour” Eric Lalor has truly made a name for himself. Belly achingly funny.
9.00pm Don Baker
Irish blues musician and actor. He is a legend. A performance not to be missed.
FAMILY FUN DAY
RATHMINES SQUARE
(previously swimming pool car park)
Saturday 20th March
12:00pm Historical Walk of Rathmines leaving the square.
2:00pm Traditional Irish Music, there will also be face painting, balloon modeling, stilt walkers.
3:00pm Wassa Wassa Dance Group. AInvited back after a wonderful performance at last year's festival, don't miss this riveting performance of African music and dance.
ANCHOR BAY FILM DAY RATHMINES TOWN HALL
11.00am Little Princess Energetic and Charming a must see for any little boy or girl (G)
1.00pm Irish Premiere of Wow Wow Woopsie
Animated movie featuring the voice of Beyonce Knowles. (G)
3.00pm Paper Heart Comedy and romance; another great performance by Michael Cera. (15)
5.00pm I Sell The Dead A frightful insight into the life of a 19th century grave robber. (15)
7.00 pm Irish Premiere of The Graves
A horror to satisfy the most eager of horror fans.(18)
9.00pm Irish Premiere of Slammin Salmon
The latest comedy from Broken Lizard
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Festival Under the Clock 2010, Rathmines
http://festivalundertheclock.webs.com/
Festival Under The Clock happens on 20th March 2010 in Rathmines Town Hall and on Rathmines Road.
A totally free, one day festival with blues man Don Baker, violinist Vladimir Jablokov, comedian Eric Lawlor. Also Mutefish, folk dancing from Eastern Europe and street performances at the newly built Rathmines Square (old swimming pool car park ).And if that's not enough there's a mini film festival too running from morning to late with a programme that covers all ages.
The day is organised by students of Rathminess College in conjunction with Dublin City Council.
It’ll be party day in Rathmines. I’ll post details next week.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
The Empty Countryside
This poem from Sunfire is based on rural Ireland of the eighties,when the country was dotted with houses beginning to decay as they became peopled by elderly people or empty houses where parents or grandparents had died, children emigrated or in Dublin, no money to renovate. Today there are similarities, but it's the Chinese, eastern Europeans,Africans, who came for a while,that are leaving in their droves after the short-lived boom.
And there are thousands of empty houses, newly built houses, unfinished, half-finished; housing estates on the edges of towns left to be abandoned building sites. Without ever having been inhabited they lack the atmosphere which inspired this poem,they stand like rotting teeth on the landscape.
Inheriting The Land
Here the sea is no more than a sigh in a shell;
conversations speed past, pole high, Dublin to Galway
and music is the wind whistling beneath a door.
Slightness describes Summer's step,
stonework its skies; a little light drips
from its edges but it's falling from a miser's hand.
Across the fields the church, within its necklace
of dead congregations, is a rusty hinge;
a place filled with a century's stillness.
And the ivy-choked trees lean closer together
like old men guessing at each others' words.
If you were to fly over these patchwork hills,
along the hedgerows and through the lightless haggards,
you wouldn't meet a soul. The old farmers are sitting
in their twilight kitchens, their families standing
on the mantlepiece in the other room that's never used
with their faces tanned beneath American skies.
Only the din of crows seeps into that silence;
crows more numerous than leaves on the sycamores,
always bickering, hogging the light,
building their cities, staking their inheritance.
And there are thousands of empty houses, newly built houses, unfinished, half-finished; housing estates on the edges of towns left to be abandoned building sites. Without ever having been inhabited they lack the atmosphere which inspired this poem,they stand like rotting teeth on the landscape.
Inheriting The Land
Here the sea is no more than a sigh in a shell;
conversations speed past, pole high, Dublin to Galway
and music is the wind whistling beneath a door.
Slightness describes Summer's step,
stonework its skies; a little light drips
from its edges but it's falling from a miser's hand.
Across the fields the church, within its necklace
of dead congregations, is a rusty hinge;
a place filled with a century's stillness.
And the ivy-choked trees lean closer together
like old men guessing at each others' words.
If you were to fly over these patchwork hills,
along the hedgerows and through the lightless haggards,
you wouldn't meet a soul. The old farmers are sitting
in their twilight kitchens, their families standing
on the mantlepiece in the other room that's never used
with their faces tanned beneath American skies.
Only the din of crows seeps into that silence;
crows more numerous than leaves on the sycamores,
always bickering, hogging the light,
building their cities, staking their inheritance.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Separation
This poem from "Turn Your Head" is one of those I am happiest with. It says what I wanted it to in a striking way. The separation described is complete, the poem's logic builds to an appropriate climax, the sadness heightened by the absolute separation of land and sea. The last sentence hits a tragic truth for many people.
Growing Apart - A Separation.
You take the sea, I’ll take the land.
Growing cautious in air currents
my ears will extend to points,
my nose grow long, eyes flinty.
I will have hair to thwart the wind,
jointed limbs that angle to take a fall.
Your sides will be sleek to cut the water,
your face an arrow, even eye-lids
planed to nothing. Your skin
will have the dapples of flowing liquid,
drop-shaped scales. By then, of course,
we will not recognize each other at all.
Growing Apart - A Separation.
You take the sea, I’ll take the land.
Growing cautious in air currents
my ears will extend to points,
my nose grow long, eyes flinty.
I will have hair to thwart the wind,
jointed limbs that angle to take a fall.
Your sides will be sleek to cut the water,
your face an arrow, even eye-lids
planed to nothing. Your skin
will have the dapples of flowing liquid,
drop-shaped scales. By then, of course,
we will not recognize each other at all.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Amended Google Book Settlement agreement
I am very grateful to Gill Spraggs for clarifying the issues around the Google Book Settlement agreement, she helped me greatly in my decision.This email, concerning the amended settlement and the changes as they relate to authors in Ireland and the U.K., arrived today.I have included a link to her website in the the links section below.
Hi Michael,
The Google Book Settlement agreement was withdrawn for redrafting in September, following serious criticism of it by the US Department of Justice. An amended version was filed with the court on 13 November. The major change was the exclusion of most books published outside the US - with the exception of books published in the UK, Australia and Canada.
Ireland as a publishing territory is now outside the settlement, but of course many Irish writers have published with British and US publishers.
There is a new opt-out period which will end on 28 January 2010.Authors who opted out of the settlement earlier this year do not need to do so a second time.
As you are aware, doing nothing at this point amounts to staying opted in.
I am circulating my latest paper, 'The Google Book Settlement: a survival aid for UK authors'.
It sets out to provide authors with information that will help them a)decide whether to opt out of the settlement b) manage their copyrights within the complicated framework set up by the settlement agreement, if they decide to stay in. There are appendices on how to opt out, and how to find out more about actively opting in and 'claiming' works.
I attach a copy, and also a copy of a shorter paper that explains how the GBS offers a particularly raw deal to poets and other authors who have had work published in anthologies.
They may also be found online at:
http://www.gillianspraggs.com/gbs/GBS_survival_aid.html
and
http://www.gillianspraggs.com/gbs/inserts.html
Please forward this email, with the attached papers, to anyone you know
who may find it helpful.
All the best,
--
------------------------------------------------------
Gillian Spraggs (Dr)
http://www.gillianspraggs.com
http://www.outlawsandhighwaymen.com
Hi Michael,
The Google Book Settlement agreement was withdrawn for redrafting in September, following serious criticism of it by the US Department of Justice. An amended version was filed with the court on 13 November. The major change was the exclusion of most books published outside the US - with the exception of books published in the UK, Australia and Canada.
Ireland as a publishing territory is now outside the settlement, but of course many Irish writers have published with British and US publishers.
There is a new opt-out period which will end on 28 January 2010.Authors who opted out of the settlement earlier this year do not need to do so a second time.
As you are aware, doing nothing at this point amounts to staying opted in.
I am circulating my latest paper, 'The Google Book Settlement: a survival aid for UK authors'.
It sets out to provide authors with information that will help them a)decide whether to opt out of the settlement b) manage their copyrights within the complicated framework set up by the settlement agreement, if they decide to stay in. There are appendices on how to opt out, and how to find out more about actively opting in and 'claiming' works.
I attach a copy, and also a copy of a shorter paper that explains how the GBS offers a particularly raw deal to poets and other authors who have had work published in anthologies.
They may also be found online at:
http://www.gillianspraggs.com/gbs/GBS_survival_aid.html
and
http://www.gillianspraggs.com/gbs/inserts.html
Please forward this email, with the attached papers, to anyone you know
who may find it helpful.
All the best,
--
------------------------------------------------------
Gillian Spraggs (Dr)
http://www.gillianspraggs.com
http://www.outlawsandhighwaymen.com
Friday, January 8, 2010
you build the fire
and I will show you something wonderful:
a big ball of snow!
(Basho 1686)
I have separated this from its prose-written context, but what I love is that it's a gentle explosion. Like all good haiku, the spare writing creates space for the reader to wander in; it’s all subtlety. How I wish I could achieve the same.
and I will show you something wonderful:
a big ball of snow!
(Basho 1686)
I have separated this from its prose-written context, but what I love is that it's a gentle explosion. Like all good haiku, the spare writing creates space for the reader to wander in; it’s all subtlety. How I wish I could achieve the same.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
A Memory of Ireland Past
Since Christmas brings us back to family,loved ones and our memories of those who are gone, I thought I'd post this memory. It was another time, the mid-sixties.(from "Sunfire")
Visiting the Corsetmaker.
Miss Gately, you know, the corsetmaker; her cottage thatched and whitewashed beneath sycamores ragged with crows and their bickering.
A Sunday afternoon, my mother walking to the red door and it opened and closed and nothing else stirring for ages but ourselves in the back of the white consul with the red roof at the end of the avenue, just outside the gate;stone walls and lichen patches wallpapering our afternoon.Father dropping off in the driver’s seat while Micheal O'Hehir commentated on matches, one after another, without ever taking a breath in all that pipe smoke; matches collecting in the ash-tray all burnt to tiny black bird bones and the condensation all used up with words and faces dribbling pathetically into shapeless bad temper. Over and over: will she ever come out, can’t we go now,why do we always have to come, move your legs; till eventually she would reappear, a slap in the doorway, motor jauntily, red-headed,back to the car like it’s been five minutes or something, and Dad’s awake, reversing from the gate, back into the remains of a Sunday afternoon.
And I never knew what went on in there; never saw who opened the door,never saw a package, never heard anything about it. My father didn’t know either. I remember she took my sister with her when my sister was in secondary school;I wouldn’t have wanted to join them anyway,it was obviously a woman’s house.
Visiting the Corsetmaker.
Miss Gately, you know, the corsetmaker; her cottage thatched and whitewashed beneath sycamores ragged with crows and their bickering.
A Sunday afternoon, my mother walking to the red door and it opened and closed and nothing else stirring for ages but ourselves in the back of the white consul with the red roof at the end of the avenue, just outside the gate;stone walls and lichen patches wallpapering our afternoon.Father dropping off in the driver’s seat while Micheal O'Hehir commentated on matches, one after another, without ever taking a breath in all that pipe smoke; matches collecting in the ash-tray all burnt to tiny black bird bones and the condensation all used up with words and faces dribbling pathetically into shapeless bad temper. Over and over: will she ever come out, can’t we go now,why do we always have to come, move your legs; till eventually she would reappear, a slap in the doorway, motor jauntily, red-headed,back to the car like it’s been five minutes or something, and Dad’s awake, reversing from the gate, back into the remains of a Sunday afternoon.
And I never knew what went on in there; never saw who opened the door,never saw a package, never heard anything about it. My father didn’t know either. I remember she took my sister with her when my sister was in secondary school;I wouldn’t have wanted to join them anyway,it was obviously a woman’s house.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Copenhagen Failure
Calculations show that the average Chinese person uses, more or less, the sustainable level of environmental resources for the maintenance of the world’s current population size; the average European uses double what’s sustainable and the typical American uses a whooping four times this.(from the BBC).
Obviously our western lifestyle is highly destructive to the planet. Our championing of human rights does not extend to our grandchildren. The damage continues, and our leaders have left Copenhagen without a treaty.
I read Obama has suggested a $10 billion per annum package for climate change when there's a $700 billion defence budget.What environmental damage is wrought by bombs and warfare, not to mention chasing fictitious weapons of mass destruction.Basic ecology teaches us that a human footstep affects the balance in a habitat.
Interference.
A fish is dreaming,
elbow deep.
With my fingertip
I draw a herring-bone
across his heaven;
he bolts.
Now the lake dreams,
empty like a canyon.
Obviously our western lifestyle is highly destructive to the planet. Our championing of human rights does not extend to our grandchildren. The damage continues, and our leaders have left Copenhagen without a treaty.
I read Obama has suggested a $10 billion per annum package for climate change when there's a $700 billion defence budget.What environmental damage is wrought by bombs and warfare, not to mention chasing fictitious weapons of mass destruction.Basic ecology teaches us that a human footstep affects the balance in a habitat.
Interference.
A fish is dreaming,
elbow deep.
With my fingertip
I draw a herring-bone
across his heaven;
he bolts.
Now the lake dreams,
empty like a canyon.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Sure Sight
The following, a love poem from "Turn Your Head"
Sure Sight
I see
pearl-like
dawn
in
your face
a desolate
blue
yonder
in
your irises
the wash
of slivered
moonlight
in
your smile
I know of
nowhere
less trodden
more
perfect
I contract
to be
forever
an explorer
in that universe.
Sure Sight
I see
pearl-like
dawn
in
your face
a desolate
blue
yonder
in
your irises
the wash
of slivered
moonlight
in
your smile
I know of
nowhere
less trodden
more
perfect
I contract
to be
forever
an explorer
in that universe.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
"Mullingar Scribblers "
In passing, I visited the Scribblers' regular Monday night session in the Annebrook Hotel recently and was greatly impressed by the work they do. They have just launched a new collection of their writings "Mullingar Scribblers, Poems and Stories Volume 4".
If you are interested in writing in the Mullingar area, they are definitely worth seeking out.
If you are interested in writing in the Mullingar area, they are definitely worth seeking out.
Poetree
Poetree. No, not poor spelling but a sculpture of a bronze tree with letters for leaves graces the cover of SHOp 31, a poetry magazine that exemplifies the best in poetry publication standards in this country. Don’t just take it from me:
'First class goods, beautifully presented. Congratulations from this confirmed SHOp-lifter.'
Seamus Heaney
'Unquestionably the most beautiful poetry magazine now in existence.'
Bemard O'Donoghue
But it’s hard times for such publications. Grants have been cut back, “and we are warned that the situation is likely to be worse in 2010” says the editor of the SHOp.
So here’s my blog, resuscitated to suggest that if you love poetry and if you want something with a bit style and imagination to put in a Christmas stocking, SHOp 31 is just out,(and it's just one of many hard-pressed poetry magazines). It’s beautiful, it's worthy and it’s good value.
(Poetree was sculpted by David McGlynn)
'First class goods, beautifully presented. Congratulations from this confirmed SHOp-lifter.'
Seamus Heaney
'Unquestionably the most beautiful poetry magazine now in existence.'
Bemard O'Donoghue
But it’s hard times for such publications. Grants have been cut back, “and we are warned that the situation is likely to be worse in 2010” says the editor of the SHOp.
So here’s my blog, resuscitated to suggest that if you love poetry and if you want something with a bit style and imagination to put in a Christmas stocking, SHOp 31 is just out,(and it's just one of many hard-pressed poetry magazines). It’s beautiful, it's worthy and it’s good value.
(Poetree was sculpted by David McGlynn)
Monday, September 14, 2009
Brian Henderson
This short film on Brian Henderson directed by Shane Dignam was posted on YouTube. Brian Henderson is an Irish artist who made a name for himself very early in his career. A member of Aosdana, he spent a number of years in New York and became very familiar with the art and music scenes there. These have influenced him.
His work reflects his open-mindedness: abstract, he works free-form, very much following his own lights.
Though now back in his home town Dublin, I suspect his escape from Ireland helped to free him from the limitations of the smaller scene that existed here in the seventies and eighties. His current exhibition continues in the Taylor Galleries on Kildare Street till Sept 19th.
His work reflects his open-mindedness: abstract, he works free-form, very much following his own lights.
Though now back in his home town Dublin, I suspect his escape from Ireland helped to free him from the limitations of the smaller scene that existed here in the seventies and eighties. His current exhibition continues in the Taylor Galleries on Kildare Street till Sept 19th.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
17 syllables
and that's where the similarity with haiku ends, written on a bad day:
Heart, empty hangar
but for a step-ladder
and a bucket of oil.
Heart, empty hangar
but for a step-ladder
and a bucket of oil.
Haiku
Tranlations from 3 Japanese masters. Love the delicacy.
No sky
no earth - but still
snowflakes fall (Hashin)
Come out to view
the truth of flowers blooming
in poverty (Basho)
Walking on dishes
the rat’s feet makes the music
of shivering cold (Buson)
More at http://www.geocities.com/alanchng1978/basho.html
http://www.toyomasu.com/haiku/
No sky
no earth - but still
snowflakes fall (Hashin)
Come out to view
the truth of flowers blooming
in poverty (Basho)
Walking on dishes
the rat’s feet makes the music
of shivering cold (Buson)
More at http://www.geocities.com/alanchng1978/basho.html
http://www.toyomasu.com/haiku/
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