20.16 Blog #2: Workshops through the looking glass

You stand in front of an audience, one of several poets who have stepped forth during the night.  You may be remembered, you may be forgotten.  If it’s a slam, you might win.  You might be the guest poet, and this is your job.  Better earn that crust.

Sometimes your throw our political, personal or funny poems and in return the audience act as a mirror, they reflect back with laughter, gasps, applause…or even stand up and walk out in disgust.  But sometimes they absorb, they remain still, they listen but they give nothing back.

I have always said, if you want to get better at performance poetry (and performance in general), perform as much as possible.  Gigs, slams, open mics.  Most cities are full of them, my context of York is no exception.  You can perform in front of the mirror as much as you like, it will reflect back your words and your stance and your politics but it won’t absorb like an audience.

But then, when you write, you pour in your thoughts onto your page.  It’s just a transition from thought to screen.  Like the mirror, it’s only reflecting yourself back in ink.

I’m still pondering the workshop from last week.  Not the one I led, the one I took part in led by Sally Jenkinson, our guest poet for Say Owt Slam #8.

The last workshop we held for SOS was way back in March 2015 with Jess Green, though we have always invited our guests to deliver a workshop, though it doesn’t always work for various reasons.

I started thinking about the people who came along to the workshop.  Some people experienced writers, some without much confidence, some totally new to the artform.  Handled marvellously by Sally, it was fun but also very interesting, a very minimal set of exercises leading to interesting results.

It got my reminiscing about previous workshops I’ve attended from poets like Jacob Sam-La Rose, Sophia Walker and Kirsten Luckins.  I travelled down to London for a free workshop with Apples & Snakes, and had mentorship from Hannah Silva when I was part of the Soapbox Tour.  Not to mention the hours and hours of workshops at NAYT’s Raising The Game events for working with young people in theatre.

Workshops allow you to bounce ideas around, to have input different to your normal perception of stimulus and writing, and then have alternate opinions in a room.  Much more productive than relying on an audience who see you as the evening’s entertainment rather than a brain/heart processing art.

When you write, you exist within the bubble of your head, the words and thoughts bouncing around, perhaps assisted by some music (at the moment it’s The Raincoats on my iPod) and interest explorations.  A workshop allows some breath and breadth, to explore someone else’s methods and styles, to get some thoughts from other people.  In Sally’s workshop, we shared our own personal ways and methods of writing, advice and experiences.

And in this way, we do reflect each other.  We bounce ideas off one another, and something surprising and refreshing can emerge. 

The looking glass is a gateway to another world.  But what does it contain?  Yoda states to the hasty Luke when he asks what’s in the Dark Side cave:  "Only what you take with you."

Blog 20.16 #1: Price Of A Pint

Price of a pint

In 2015 I really started to do more gigs.  Probably a bad idea, on a DIY scale of small punk bands, making money is like finding a One Direction fan at a hardcore show.  And if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right so inevitably that means a lot of time promoting via social media, various What’s On and Events pages, making/disturbing posters/flyers, hosting the band before/after and, of course, the gig itself!  (oh yeah, that thing).

But a phrase that gets used a lot is The Price Of A Pint, or even comparing a gig’s ticket to that of a pint.  I recall, many years ago, strongly recommending a piece of theatre to a Theatre Student, saying it was one of the best shows I’d seen for a long time (still is).  I *think* if memory serves the ticket was a special reduced price of £7ish.  The person said “Oh, that’s a bit steep” with a pint in his hands, which as followed by a few more.  The memory that show lives forever, but does the memory of those pints?

Now, I want to do a full blog about alcohol, but for now I want to analyse the value of what gigs and events are worth.

Every music gig I’ve put on, either under the Who Killed Moose banner or just as myself (in-jokingly called Pewter City Promotions) has been a mere £3.  I was pleasantly surprised when I checked out Pint Price to see the average cost of a pint in York is, you guess it, £3!

So, for the cost of a drink which lasts 10-30 mins and makes you mildly tipsy and need the loo, you could see 3-5 bands/acts and help pay for the sound, their travel and their Life.  Obviously, when put in this context of an evening of musical delights, £3 is nothing.  But, bear in mind, I’m a gig promoter.  Of course I’d style it this way.

What else could £3 buy?  A ready meal, a frozen pizza, a packet of crisps and a chocolate bar?

I do believe we need to value our art.  There are dozens, probably several dozens, blogs about paying artists.  Have a Google.  Treat y’sen.

Is £3 too cheap for this evening of entertainment?  If £3 is pretty much nothing, does that mean the gig itself is reductive and as throwaway as a simple pint of Fosters?

There’s an argument to be said that people coming to an event they want to come to would pay whatever, within reason.  £4 maybe?  Does £5 feel too much, as it’s breaking into a note?  Do 50ps come into play?  What is the psychology of gig-going?  Do you work it out how much £1 per band/act?

This is, of course, classist of me.  Some people really can’t afford £3.  £3 is a lot of money.  If it’s the difference between food and a gig, go for the food.  That’s why we keep the price down for punk gigs, because punk should be political and something affordable in a world where cars, shelter and, GODDAMMIT, food are out of reach for people, the least we can do if offer a evening of affordable fun.

Of course, it would be more affordable if we charged £0 entry, or took donations, but touring bands gotta eat too.

Next Moose gig is MOOSEFEST with 10 bands, which will cost you 50p per band.  And you know what?  I’m scared we won’t sell well.  Prove me wrong, reader.  20^th Feb, Fulford Arms, doors 1pm.

In terms of Say Owt Slam, there’s a wider context to poetry nights in York, namely when we started there were 3, and 2 were free and 1 cost a mere £1.  Now, it’s inflated to £2.

But an £1 isn’t all that much to pay for the individual.  After all, it’s 2/3s of a pint!  But the promoter doubles his takings, and have twice as much to book other poets, or to keep for his time running the gig.

So we’ve put Say Owt Slam at £7 (£6 winter price).  This feels a lot.  I’ll hold my hand up, I wish we didn’t.  But all in all, when the guest poet has been paid (their rightful due) and the venue and advertisement costs are covered, we’re left with a small pot of money.  We give the winning poet £45.  This is totally fair.  Not only does it create some helpful incentive for entry, it also shows that the money YOU pay on the door helps a poet.

Finally, Fleeting Quiz has been one of the funnest experiences I’ve had for a long time with my mates Ben and John. My co-quiz-conspirator Ben makes sketches and t’other one John sings songs.  So to find something for us all to do as makes that is creative and not a board game is immeasurably rewarding.  But we charged £1 per person.  Seemed fair, it’s just a little fun quiz.  But now we’ve increased to £1.50.  Partly because we now have more venue costs, but also because we’ve got bloody good at it.  And people have enjoyed it.  We genuinely believe, when you come to a Fleeting Quiz, you’re not just paying to answer nerdy questions.  It’s a really entertaining evening.  Bad Kazoo Round speaks for itself.

But that’s the power of numbers.  When you get enough people together, even if they’re simply chipping in £1-3 of their money, or forking out £7, all together they are able to influence and affect how artists, sound engineers, promoters and venues get paid.  This is why corporations are so powerful, because like a river we pour into them our money and resources.  Individually, £1 might not buy much, but when 80 people pay £1 they make a pot of money for prizes, pay venue costs and have a little bit left over for the folks who spend hours (no exaggeration) on Wikipedia drawing up questions on fantasy books and films.  It’s what Tolkien would have wanted.  A LOTR-referencing Labour-movement analogy.

But let’s not forget loyalty is so important.  As much as the art has a value, there is a value in loyalty that audiences come and give, so ta x

Oh, but my next gig I might have to charge £4.  It’s a band from That There London!

Generic End Of Year Review Blog

It’s time for my annual 2015 round-up of all The Things I Did.

I spent the last few days of this year praying that the Ouse defences would hold and leave my house high and dry, so far, so good.

My intention for this year was to write more blogs, not necessarily from a journalistic or literary perspective, but to keep my fingers typing away.  Type type.  Click. 

But I always assumed I’d never have the time to write a ‘proper’ blog.  Too busy being busy. So I decided to limit my writing to 20 minutes and 15 seconds.  20.15.  Geddit?

Dance Like Nobody’s Blogging

Don’t Judge Me

We Don’t Do This To Win (but we still won)

Riot Nerrrd Tour

Patchwork People

Delayed Response to the General Election

Adapt to Survive

Ambition (or:  Lex Luthor is Bad)

Edinburgh:  The Story of Edinburgh 2015

The Best Beards In The [B]oetry Business

Be Chronos:  Workshop planning & delivery

Public Address Tour

Spectre Didn’t Have a Ghost of a chance

GreedCreep

Who Killed Blogging Moose?

So some other highlights:

I was the Community Artist for Selby’s On Our Turf Project culminating in a performance in Selby Abbey, a very unique situation and performance.  I learned a lot about Selby, I chatted to its locals and hopefully produced a evening celebrating Selby’s unique history.

I went on tour with JENN HART who is super awesome and super cool.  I documented this in my blog here and am working on a podcast of all the interviews we did along with the way, but looking back I am still amazed it all came together, and we did it without a car!  I am keen to get touring once more, and might put a week aside in 2016 to give it another go.

I went to EdFringe, again, documented here.  Still need that photo of the human pyramid!

Gigged with Apples & Snakes' Public Address tour and met loads of ace new poets!

I wrote a load of plays for Youth Theatres, including Who Shot The Sherriff? for Harrogate Youth Theatre’s summer show (an adaptation of the Robin Hood story, but for the characters as teens) and The Hunt for Hull truck Youth Theatre.  I worked on a Play In A Week for York Theatre Royal and Hannah Bruce & Co, and I also got to do more freelance work across Yorkshire, and will be working with Harrogate YT leading a play-wrighting group.

2016?  Well, we have more Say Owt Slams in the pipeline, I wrote an adaptation of The Castle for Hull truck YT which is on in Feb, another Words & Whippets gig planned at York Theatre Royal and I hope to tour more and do EdFringe again!

I can only hope 2015 was good for you, and I wish you all the best in 2016.  Let’s hope it’s peaceful, fruitful and leads to the Grand Revolution toppling the capitalist system so we can build an Anarchist utopia.

In solidarity x

Henry

Tonight I Typed

Tonight I typed

I didn’t have enough tissues to wipe away the debris of spittle

And I yelled until my housemates asked me to keep the noise down

They had work in the morning, and, to be fair, so did I.

In the brief moments my internet crashed

I continued to thump against the desk, just to try and relax.

I typed and typed until my fingers were simply bone

And my keyboard short circuited as it overflowed in blood.

Only when my head was spinning from the dents

And only when I had ground my teeth into fine powder did

I hear in the distance the share holders of BAE systems

Wheezing to raise their wadded wallets to their puckered lips.

I heard The Allies breathing a sigh of relief.  Phew.  No one noticed.

I heard the orphan, clearing their throat, some rubble, digging.

I heard the parent’s tears trickling onto what remained.

Then I heard The Terrorist fill in another Weapon Resupply Form

for another resupply of recruits.

No, I didn’t.  I couldn’t hear all that.  I was safe in my walls.

But I could hear the brutal cheering of politicians of all colours

United, together, in the squealing joy of a successful evening.

And as the morning sun rose, the bombs started to fall.

20.15 Blog #15: Who Killed Blogging Moose?

The first gig I ever put on must have been something at University, possibly the Hydropaths with Leeds Punk Soc.  The first one I very clearly putting on and being a massive success as Al Baker & The Dole Queue, The Ruby Kid and my friend’s band Elijah At Sea.  I knew absolutely nothing about equipment or running a gig, but it seemed to work OK.  We passed round a hat for UCU on strike and I got a load of mates to do some poetry.  That would prove to be standard for a Henryish gig.

I’ve done a load of poetry gigs over the years.  Too many the count.  But gigwise, I can remember them all because they were, initially, far and few between.

I put on Franz Nicolay and Chris T-T at the Basement, which was very busy and popular, but I still lost a lot of money.  I think that put me off gigs for a long time, despite the fact it was a great night.  For everyone on my support band’s cheaplist, I said I’d give them a quid.  As it happened, I gave them a lot more than what we’d arranged I’d ‘owe’ because they really did deserve more than a few coins.

Again, that would prove standard practise.

Then, in 2014, when I moved into my current house with my mate Nick, we plotted, schemed and devised a gig at some point.  Then KINKY said they were looking for dates.  The time was right, we made our move from the shadows.  We would be Who Killed Psychotic Moose.  The brand was born.

Or so we thought.  We decided to change the Adjective of Moose for various complicated reasons.  It became a running joke which Moose was getting killed each gig.  Poor mooses!

That gig taught me a lesson about putting on gigs, which is true for all the ones I’ve done.  Don’t get bitter because people haven’t turned up.  It’s not worth it.  It’s not justified.  People can do whatever they want with their time, they don’t have a ‘duty’ to your gigs.  If I had a penny for the number of times I’d missed a gig I should have, in fairness, attended to support the scene or a friend, I’d be able to pay Rancid to play Fulford Arms.  I bet folks would come see that, though.

Next few gigs were all pretty well attended, Petrol Girls in March was really busy and had a real energy as we had a few speakers talking about Reclaim The Night marches and Hollaback!  York branch.

No Ditching was a different crowd, but a really fun one nevertheless.

Then Mooseless I put on Block Fort all on my lonesome.  Lessons learnt, that’s hard work.  But it was DirtyGirl’s first ever gig, and it was rammed.

Petrol Girls returned with Typesetter, and already we'd built up a following for the band who are, without doubt, one of my fav bands at the moment

Our the Refugee Action York fund-raiser with Magnificent Seven was a real tour-de-force of York's energy coming together to play and sweat!

I also put on Daniel Versus The World & Ay Carmela!  without the Moose brand, and thankfully had a crowd despite it being a wet, cold half-term Wednesday.

Our last Moose gig of the year, Casual Nausea, had a decent little dedicated crowd, but it reminded me of those lessons from the Moose gig #1, don’t ever get jaded about a gig’s turnout, whoever comes is there to have fun, whoever isn’t misses out.  As long as you did all you could to convince and spread the word, you should relax and dance.  A hard personal lesson for an anxiety-ridden gig-promoter.

So what else have I learnt over this year putting on music gig (poetry gigs is another blog entirely)?

You have a duty to publicise as much as possible.  That means Facebook event, posters, flyers and spreading the word

That’s not just a Facebook event made a few days before that says:  “This will be ace” with no selling points.  If a stranger who’d never heard of these bands came across the page, would they be enticed?

Posters and flyers.  Everywhere.  York has plenty of places to put them.  If it gets one passer-by who wonders whether to come or not, it was worth it.  Flyer other gigs, is the venue is OK with it.  Carry flyers around in case you pass someone in the street who looks like they might enjoy it.  Carry them in case you bump into a friend who asks what you’re up to.  For all it’s illusion of ultimate connectivity, Facebook only has a small circular reach.

In this respect, I have learnt not to put on too many gigs, no gigs for the sake of it, and bands that are truly worth time and energy.  I’ve said no, and turned down gigs.  But when there is a gig worth doing, it’s worth doing right.

I’m still learning.  It’s my basic instinct to just slog it out there. There’s more to it, but I’ll learn.

Thanks to all the people who played a Moose gig, and everyone who came down and supported us.  It’s been super awesome to see so many awesome bands and people!

Next we have Moosefest 2016!  Details here, come down, have a dance!

20.15 Blog #14: GreedCreep

If you were to sift through my bedroom back at my parents, you would find stacks of old Games Workshop figures.  The only thing I brought with me from this stage of my teenage life was a huge map of the Warhammer world, which sits alongside my map of Westeros and Middle-Earth.

This has been my first year living away from my parents since University, which came after a good few years working out how to make this Freelance Thing work.  I moved in with a couple of Anarchists who were glued to Gogglebox.

This year has really been a productive year for me.  I wrote a play for Harrogate Youth Theatre, and have just finished another for Hull truck Youth Theatre.  Past Henry’s goal was to write plays for young people, and to achieve that has been super awesome.  I’ve gigged at Latitude and Boomtown Fair and went up to EdFringe with a show.  Say Owt Slam has gone from strength to strength.  But I am constantly worried I take it for granted.  I’m always worried I take everything for granted.

I get anxiety sometimes about what should be achieved, and is achievable.  I constantly compare where I am to where other people are.  This is too much of a competitive trait, it assumes everyone climbs the same ladder, or worse is on the same production line.

Now I have more rent and food bills to pay than when I lived at my folks, I have started to worry about money.  Now, actually, I don’t really need to.  I’m kind of on top of finances, and I am slowly making enough each month.  But I do worry about money, because I worry about GreedCreep.

This term popped into my head recently.

When I was a kid, I would write long lists of what Warhammer I would buy if we won the lottery.  I don’t think this was because I wanted to hoard all the Warhammer in the world all for myself.  Warhammer is a game you play with other people.  I wanted more to use in our Saturday daytime battles.  Though, at the end of the day, it’s still ownership over stuff.

I wanted all the music I could get, so that I could find and enjoy gigs, take part in conversations and maybe even form a band (pity it took 10 years, but we got there, guys).

I’m getting that quite badly again.  This time with Board Games.  2015 will forever be recorded as the year we all got obsessed with the Game Of Thrones Board Game, but I’ve also got very much into Boss Monster, Dominion, Coup and a few others.  I like the fact I can arrange a gaming day/evening and have a huge selection to enjoy.

To that end, I have this twitch whenever I walk past Travelling Man or OG Games.  I kind of get this sense I really want more games to add to my collection.  Lego, Mighty Max, CDs, patches, plays, comics, books…I’ve always been a bit of a magpie for collecting. 

However, I think this is GreedCreep.  It’s not necessarily an evil thing, I don’t want to have all the money in the world ever.  But I do think it is a gnawing bug in the back of my brain.  It’s a force that drags me in certain directions, to certain websites or to certain shops.  And I think it’s a major force in nerd culture.  Since the nerdifcation the ordinary, since the commercialisation of nerdiness, you can get watches, dressing gowns, shoes, hats, gloves, socks, pencils, notepads, cases, clocks, curtains, bedsheets, stationary…anything with Tyrion, Finn, Batman or even Joe Strummer’s face on.

And, yeah, it might be punky to love music, nerdy to love games but it’s still capitalism, it’s still a wanting of objects, of things, of items and no matter how much you dress it as ‘alternative’ culture.

So I’m going to keep an eye on this GreedCreep.  This wanting.  Because I like my Pokemon shoes, I like my bag o’ patches, I like my zine library and play collection and new comic books and I LOVE my new board games, but I need to make sure these are for sharing with folks.  These games are to be played, comic books to be shared, CDs to be lent and plays to be written for people to perform.

TakeOver's 'Trainspotting (Not The Film)'

I created a short piece for TakeOver Festival and performed this half-term, here's a video for your eyes and ears!