At the end of last month in Ireland, poet and filmmaker Colm Scully curated the 3rd International Poetry Film Competition as part of Drumshanbo Written Word festival. Here’s his account. —Jane Glennie
Once again, this August, we gathered in Drumshanbo to screen our 18 shortlisted films. It was a miserable Friday evening and we could hear the driving rain cascade off the roof and hammer down the drain pipes of The Old Mayflower Ballroom, a thousand miles away from the baking sunshine, open doors, and coffee stand days of the two previous years. Still, the people came and Willie, along with his faithful dog, worked his technical magic, setting up screen and sound so we could cozy down to two hours of entertainment and prize giving.
This year we were chuffed to have 175 entries from 21 countries worldwide, with a huge sweep of talent present from established film makers and new names. As I said at my intro I could have easily chosen a totally different 18 and they would have been just as good. However in the spirit of eclecticism and inclusiveness I chose films from a myriad of styles and practices. The result, I think, was a selection where everyone in the crowd found something to enjoy.
We had humour and slapstick comedy from Australia’s Patrick Gamble with Bakers Son. We had black humour and collage animation from the US with Michael Mitchell’s Resume (an account of Dorothy Parkers famous poem about suicide). It was very gratifying to be able to show Finn Harvor’s excellent elegy of his late father, which contained humour and pathos in equal measure. People were very taken with the rhythms and musicality of Kenneth Karthik’s Punjabi Market from Canada. The subtle message about sexuality and how different communities and cultures adapt to a changing world really struck home. Barry Hollow’s Cap-cut created-struggles of life-piece was touching, and it was wonderful to hear the Scots of his childhood. I must say it reminded me very much of Burns with his ‘many a slip twixt cup and lip’. Eileen and her crew provided half time refreshments, wine and nibbles, then we returned to more great films.
At the end we introduced the poets/filmmakers who had travelled. Mary Guckian, from just over the road (the first lady of Leitrim Poetry) spoke of how Eamon De Burca adapted her poem Night Time, a tale of childhood memories. His two daughters starred and chose their own dresses. It was a realistic interpretation, but the subtle film work and touching reminiscences made it very satisfying.
Tara Luger and Julia Galley from Vienna and Freiburg traveled specially for the event. They made their film as part of an Erasmus module assignment while studying in Belgium. The narration was in Japanese and the narrative had us thinking all sorts of things until the final twist explained everything. Houseplants has to be watched to be appreciated. They regaled us later in the pub with stories of their Irish connections.
Csilla Toldy, a well known poetry film maker and lecturer, came south and explained to us the story of Jewish Lithuanian poetess Matilda Olkinaite (My Dear Idealist). Csilla’s use of refrain, overlay, historical images and aged modern footage created a haunting space in which to relay the poignant poetry of the victim of Nazism.
Anne MacDonald spoke emotionally of her own mother, who was the subject of the short animated piece, Crows’ Books. Animated by her niece (Kate Hanlon—away in Australia) it was very much a family affair.
Ceara Carney, actor and tour guide, came from Dublin. There were fewer environmentally driven films submitted this year, I hope that is not a symptom of climate change fatigue. Ceara’s film Residents of 49 represented the cause well, her spoken-word mastery energising with rhyme the beautifully filmed (on super 8) goings on of nature in her back garden.
There were other great films, such as Olaf Boqwist’s Pained Flowers/Printed Leaves from Germany, Jane Glennie and James Kenward’s Dark, Mersolis Shone’s Repeat from Austria, Andre Chiaradi’s My Son, Diek Grobler’s – I haven’t told my garden yet, Brent Walbilligs – Ad Hominem from Canada, a film of post imperial introspection.
But there had to be winners, and Eileen O’Toole, our Chairperson, awarded, in absentia, a lovely set of handmade Drumshanbo pottery to Marcella O’Connor from Kerry, for Best Irish Poetry Film. Her film, Night Drags, touched me. It was an interpretation of a poem by Aogán O’Rathaille (the Gaelic Bard of the 17th Century). I am forever intrigued by old Ireland and this piece, filmed so beautifully around the west coast, capturing rutting stags in Killarney and keening heard of seals on a Blasket beach, seemed to reach deep into the past to that time of desolation and dispossession. Also it was nice to have an Irish language poem in the set.
But our winner, this year for the first time from outside of Ireland, was Jim Haverkamp’s Blink Once. A film he made when paired with the fine American poet, Karin Gottshall as part of the Filmetry Project in Michigan. Jim gave us his acceptance speech via video, humouring us with his jibes about Jameson Whiskey while explaining how he made the film by combining the discovery of an old book about metal detecting with Karin’s poem of childhood memory. Many people asked me why I picked it. Put simply, it worked for me. It brought the magic out. The magic of the poem, the magic of the story. It’s all the little things that make it work. The old-style, low-definition camera work, the stark colours (blue, brown, white). The pacing and dramatic intent in the narrator’s voice. The lack of connection between the visual and the words, and yet paradoxically, the perfect symmetry between them. And of course the perfect words; words about gender, sexuality maybe, or just about dreaming and hope, longing. Whatever it was, it was beautiful.
Watch the full shortlisted programme:
Perhaps a more accurate title for this conversation would read, “From the Artist’s Canvas to the Page to the Screen and Back Again and then to the Screen Once More,” but such a title would be unwieldy. Still— this fluid and fascinating movement between mediums lies at the heart of Sarah Tremlett’s latest project, a print anthology, Frame to Frames : Your Eyes Follow II/Cuadro a Cuadros : Tus Ojos Siguen II (ekphrastic poetry + films/cine + poesía ecfrástica).
The book is a multimedia, bilingual collection of poems accompanied by QR codes linking to streaming videopoems. Acclaimed poetry filmmaker Csilla Toldy also contributed her expertise to the project as co-director of Poem Film Editions. Featuring the work of 22 poets and filmmakers, these texts and films are mostly inspired by the painting, “Huapango Torero” by contemporary nonbinary Mexican artist Ana Segovia. The book is the first release from PoemFilm Editions, Tremlett’s new publishing platform dedicated to the art of poetry film. Additionally, a Spanish edition of the book (with additional text) is coming out in November, published by Chamán Ediciones, and will be launched at the upcoming MALDITO Videopoetry Festival in Albacete.
Tremlett’s Frame to Frames II call for ekphrastic poetryfilms was part of a curated program for the 2023 FOTOGENIA Film Poetry & Divergent Narratives Festival in Mexico City. It was an invitation for the creation of new videopoems with Segovia’s painting serving as the point of inspiration. The painting, vivid in color and emotional tone, is a response to the gendered politics of machismo and the animal welfare concerns of bullfighting practices. Since FOTOGENIA, the collection of videopoems has been traveling the festival circuit, with selections screening at the 9th Weimar Poetry Filmtage in April 2024 and REELpoetry 2023.
There is also a bilingual documentary (made for REELpoetry 2024) on the making of the Frame to Frames II project with five of the videopoem artists. The doc is available for viewing here: https://vimeo.com/929116208.
What makes this collection so unique, besides the QR code-based format, is its emphasis on the ekphrastic videopoem. According to the Poetry Foundation, ekphrasis translates to “description” in Greek. Ekphrastic poetry embodies the “imaginative act of narrating and reflecting on the ‘action’ of a painting or sculpture… the poet may amplify and expand its meaning” (322). The videopoems featured in Frame to Frames : Your Eyes Follow II/Cuadro a Cuadros : Tus Ojos Siguen II (ekphrastic poetry + films/cine + poesía ecfrástica) do just that. Just as Ana Segovia’s painting, “Huapango Torero,” serves as a filmmaker’s portal for new meanings, this anthology is likewise a portal as the reader is encouraged to move seamlessly between the page and streaming online content via QR codes. Not only is this collection truly innovative and collaborative in spirit, taken as a whole, the book reaffirms the contemporary relevance and ever-evolving nature of the ekphrastic as creative incitement and provocation. And while a curated program for a poetry film fest might be ephemeral or inaccessible for those not in attendance, this anthology brings the poetry film festival directly to the reader in a way that hasn’t quite been done before. The Spanish translations by Camilo Bosso also allow for transnational and transcultural dialogues between artists, poets, and filmmakers.
Although this new anthology is a testament to the collaborative spirit that has become the hallmark of the videopoetry community, the project was ultimately spearheaded by poet, filmmaker, and videopoem theorist Sarah Tremlett. Sarah is quite active in the contemporary poetry filmmaking world, known widely for her organization and online platform Liberated Words CIC. Described by Karina Karaeva as a “visual philosopher,” Sarah’s original videopoems have taken top honors at poetry film festivals around the world, and she has also served as jury member and judge for such festivals as REELpoetry and LYRA, among others. She is the author of the seminal study, The Poetics of Poetry Film: Film Poetry, Videopoetry, Lyric Voice, Reflection (2021, Intellect: University of Chicago Press), which includes the voices of over 40 contributors. Described as an encyclopedic and rigorous investigation of the genre, the book is a one-of-a-kind exploration of videopoetry’s formal characteristics framed by the lyric voice. I recently had the opportunity to exchange some thoughts on ekphrastic videopoetry and the new anthology with Sarah, which are excerpted below. Segments of the following interview draw from her scholarship in The Poetics of Poetry Film as well as her own creative process and years of poetry filmmaking experience.
PK: Do you consider the ekphrastic poetryfilms featured in the new anthology to be adaptations of Segovia’s painting? Or are they something more? Why or why not?
ST: Before focusing specifically on ekphrastic poetry films, in their construction, poetry films can exhibit many types of (often app-based) adaptation: where still photographs become animated or coloured and layered with other photographs; a musical score that is remixed; a poem where the lines are altered to fit the film; a montage of many sources combined to create a single film; a drawing that is layered into another time and place. You could argue poetry film is adaptation. Others take a postmodernist stance arguing that all is intertextual, a continuous flow of material reinventing itself.Ekphrasis itself can be argued to be happening in many poetry films themselves. Every filmmaker who selects a poem by a poet to develop it in their own way can probably be considered to be committing ‘reverse ekphrasis’, though often not deliberately.
The importance of the relationship between the original artist and their respondee in the ekphrastic work sets it apart from other types of adaptation. The central point is that the second artwork is a reply that implies co-existence of perspectives (however abstracted) and also if reimagining, rather than directly representing, extends the original to create a ‘between’ space with its own characteristics. As I write this, I am reminded of the reverse ekphrastic response a filmmaker might make to a poem by another poet, too. Meriel Lland, filmmaker of the winning Frame to Frames film A Love Spell Cast in Petals, also emphasised how she had thoroughly researched the subject, and she felt she was in dialogue with the artist through her response, and I think this is something that is important to remember.
PK: In The Poetics of Poetry Film, you write, “Quite often the poetry film is realized as it is written: poem, then film, with soundscape design completing the picture; but of course, life is rarely this compartmentalized” (40). How does the ekphrastic encourage the liberation from compartmentalization within the creative process? And what are some of the ways in which the poetryfilms in the new anthology “resist the representational” or embody the “the brilliance of intensional, unique symbols” (5)?
ST: I am not sure that I can definitively answer it does, but here are some thoughts. It was you, Patricia, who noted that you wouldn’t have made your ekphrastic poetry film without this ekphrastic prompt and maybe counter intuitively, that is one way to create liberation from a particular personal approach. Since you are also an auteur poetry filmmaker, standing outside your comfort zone and eliciting something unknown from inside could be really important for you to develop your practiceAs mentioned, the ekphrastic poem is somehow (to varying degrees) a ‘co-existence of perspectives’ (Cunningham, 2011). If you are a poet who usually collaborates with the same filmmaker, the terms have altered. The original context, voice and subject matter of the source artist have firstly entered the thought processes of the poet, and secondly cannot help but suggest a different type of dialogue between poet and filmmaker, maybe as if a third voice is present, an inclusion of ‘other’? Ultimately, the source artist has to be taken care of in some way, accorded a position, directly or indirectly; by reference or inference. There is also the aspect of the different types of source that might liberate new approaches and thinking: whilst many worked to paintings, Martin Sercombe with poet Thom Conroy chose an AI artwork and Javier Robledo an Argentinian visual poem. So, yes, actually I do think ekphrasis does liberate the artist from a standard practice into unknown territories.
The festival painting (Huapango Torero by non-binary Mexican artist Ana Segovia) is wholly representational, and was selected by over half the artists in the book. This painting where a boy holds a flower up to a bull, is a call to end animal cruelty, machismo and bullfighting. It revises an original work where boys used to go into bulls’ fields at night to practice bullfighting. The highly political subject of animal cruelty though, on the one hand encouraged the visual depiction of animals – the bull – but on the other, an unwillingness to show the gory details, the actual killing, the bloodshed. Filmmakers chose different ways to negotiate this.
In It Ain’t Wot it Seems, Penny Florence adapted direct images from Segovia’s painting that became layered with each other, alongside the bilingual, moving text of the visual poem (also a visual poem on the page).
The winning film, A Love Spell Cast in Petals, by Meriel Lland was many layered and directly representational, including images of bulls, a carving of a bull, and a powerful poem that confronts the subject with depth and emotional strength; a call for change – an end to cruelty to animals.
Janet Lees found the painting too complex to work to, and so based her film on the extraordinary poem ‘Self Portrait with a Line from Lorca’ by Elena K. Byrne and Lois P. Jones which was based on the painting Huapango Torero. Whilst she included some images of toreadors, the main subject matter was a Mexican dancer in slow motion, which the poets viewed as a feminist parallel in rhythm to the toreador’s movements with his cape. This revisioning can be seen as a filmic intensional undoing of the performative machismo of death and killing through celebratory joy and the feminine.
In Huapango Torero, Jack Cochran and Pamela Falkenberg created an ekphrastic animation of Segovia’s work… as they say “in an intertextual way.” Ideas flow and reinvent each other, a poem is influenced by another poem, and a song, or Ana Segovia’s paintings reappear in different locations and guises in the narrative.
In A New History, your film, Patricia, is about ending cruel stereotypes and a new beginning towards animal-human relationships. You talk to the boy in the painting; and the really meaningful and beautiful line ‘as the hoof takes the hand to show us all another way’ ending with ‘not every dance must end in death … a new history awakens.’ Here the painting is visible in your poem but not in the film at all. It is a reverse ekphrastic transfer via text alone.
Beate Gördes based her images directly on the bull but there was no verbal poem at all.
In Crystal Flower Carlos Ramirez Kobra from Mexico made a film that included images of bulls but associated the poem with the death of his mother and her village home.
Alejandro Thornton from Argentina focused on the title Huapango Torero and filmed a dancer’s bare feet stamping out the Huapango dance, whilst the words Resist / Exist appear in coloured smoke, but no bull in sight.
My own performative poetry film includes a mime artist who is both man and bull at one and the same time, to show how little difference there is between us, and how if you taunt a man he will react just the same as a bull. The mime artist was made up with a curly moustache (echoing bull’s horns) and accompanied by silhouettes of the shapes they made in performing, which appear bull-like. The poem is an Italian sonnet in two halves; in the first the man is full of his own importance, and in the second half this is dissolved by the arrival of a fly. The Spanish voiceover and the music tell the narrative very clearly, of the fate of the bull, but we don’t actually see one at all.
Finn Harvor was inspired by Huapango Torero but only in terms of an association between the hot summers in both Mexico and Korea. His film focused on the South Korean landscape and the sun, without referencing the narrative in the painting at all.
Of the artists who chose their own artwork, some were directly representational as in Colm Scully’s Interior Group Portrait of the Penrose Family which was exactly that, and the poem affords a deeper look into their lives through touching on actual events; or Tova Beck Friedman’s The Fall of Lilith painted by the Pre-Raphaelite painter John Collier, where Beck-Friedman examines with a feminist critique a deeply patriarchal approach to narrative
Ian Gibbins responded to Judy Morris’ illustrations of plants, where, after each Latin name of a plant a stream of consciousness description erupts that expands across numerous associations, and I feel is truly intensional.
Csilla Toldy’s poem ‘This Yard’ was a response to another poet and their poem, as she says in a double ekphrastic process.
PK: You have asserted that “Poetry film-making is largely attuned to and in a philosophical dialogue with the world” (323) and can “create radical change for humanity and the planet” (322). How does this new anthology contribute to that philosophical dialogue or create change?
ST: In general, since the rise of digital media and the Internet, the chance for different voices to speak out has emerged, through genres such as poetry film. And these voices have only grown, year by year. Unfortunately for the planet, the environment has become a central issue, and the poetry film community worldwide is voicing its distress. For me, organizing poetry film events and or publishing books means I can share these voices, and particularly encourage a diverse lens.
PK: What were some of the unique challenges or revelations that arose during the completion of this first publication from PoemFilm Imprints?
ST: I knew that asking artists to create work that tries to offer ideas for political change would be difficult, especially coming from left field, but I feel that the responses were extraordinary, brave and memorable. The question is – how to create an artwork that speaks to us both politically but also creatively, reflectively and aesthetically without making us turn away, or reject the work for other reasons, too. Every artist in this collection achieved that very difficult double act, and I applaud everyone who took part.I have worked in publishing on and off for many years, so I knew what I had to do in terms of production, editing, proofreading, paper selection etc. etc., and I have been curating poetry film screenings since 2012, so in general not many areas were a surprise. However, I specifically wanted it to be bilingual, to include Spanish readers, and to show the comparative musicality – euphonious or sonic patterning – rhythm, syntax etc. between the two languages. I am learning Spanish, and I had worked with translator Camilo Bosso before, and through him I discovered a lot about the language and honing the exact translations in the process. This was time-consuming but has been richly rewarding!
Maybe the biggest revelation is that although I kept thinking it was taking too long to produce, since I had announced it in December in Mexico, the fact that it only took six months, for a 116-page, bilingual anthology with links to films was amazing. If you look at academic publishers and their long schedules I feel really pleased about that.
Csilla Toldy, my co-director also has been very helpful and given great publishing advice and a second pair of eyes, which are really needed at the start of a company.
In terms of the aims of Poem Film editions, it was also essential to source an environmentally aware printer, (for the book and even bookmark); it is important to me that the books follow through in my eco credentials, and environmental beliefs.
What has also been wonderful is the reception it has had, both from contributors and readers. It is especially gratifying to hear praise first hand, as I travel around on my tour presenting the book: so far FOTOGENIA (Mexico city), REELpoetry (Houston online), Weimar (Germany), and Leeds Trinity ekphrastic symposium (UK). However, I really would like more of the contributors to come along, although many aren’t in the UK. The next one is at Bristol Literary Film Festival on October 27th.
PK: Is there anything else you’d like to share about ekphrastic videopoetry, your own creative process, or any other comments or contributions by filmmakers featured in the book?
ST: In terms of my own practice, I personally have worked with ekphrastic poetry films before, as in Villanelle for Elizabeth not Ophelia (based on the painting Ophelia by Dante Gabriel Rossetti) which takes a feminist stance against the position of the model and abuse of power, and there are others that are upcoming. My latest film Flight which is from the commissioned poetry (with images) collection The Unexhibited, due later this year, includes some fragments of my early Neo-Expressionist paintings, alongside those of the Cornish painter Peter Lanyon. The film centres on drone footage of the coast of Cornwall, and this is also a reference to Lanyon who in his later years flew a glider and made glider paintings (actually dying from a gliding accident). It also includes a reference to an ekphrastic poem I wrote ‘The (Last) Green Mile’ (based on one of his other works) in Transitional anthology by the Otter Gallery workshops, Chichester University, 2017.
I would finally like to add something of the reality of the working process of Bull, my own poetry film response to Huapango Torero which gives an insight into a dramatic, scripted (though without dialogue) performative poetry film. I conceived the narrative and concept (and lighting), which was interpreted by my daughter Hatti aka XaiLA who is a performance and makeup/ special effects artist in LA. My other daughter Georgie directed onsite, with a script (sent by WhatsApp) by myself. Hatti has never taken on this role before, and together they interpreted what I wanted and then some, as there was the added factor of a subtle, strangely dark humour brought to the performance. It was also determined by the clothes and makeup and the small space to film in (a small studio apartment), which in some ways also added to the sense of being trapped, whilst feeling like an experimental, cabaret-style venue. I found the Spanish band Lapso Producciones whose evocative, bitter-sweet cabaret-style music fitted both parts of the Italian sonnet structure and the Spanish voiceover artist Helena Amado brought a subtle sense of delightful irony to the narrative to complete the picture. I think this film shows how each person, each creative practitioner contributed an important part of the final result.
All the contributors have been wonderful, and supportive and view it as a unique and timely project that they are proud to be part of, so I can’t really ask for more than that. It was a leap of faith, a leap in the dark and I really had no idea that it would achieve what it has, when I think back to last summer when I began requesting films. At that stage a book hadn’t even been thought of. Looking back, I think it was the quality of the films and the poetry that inspired me to expand the concept from a prize and screening to an intermedial project. I have been told it is a first in the field and if so, I am extremely happy!
As Janet Lees mentioned in the video documentary on Frame to Frames, in poetry films the poem often passes you by, but here you can stop and pause and go back to the poems and read them in either language at your leisure. So, there is not only the comparison between the painting and films but also the comparison between the poems on the page in English and Spanish and also the poems as they appear in the films.
What I would like to say is that this project is also very different in that the ‘book’ is more than simply a book. It is a central hub with bilingual poems and explanatory synopses, and the poetry films are extensions of that, if you like, via QR link. It affords a different type of (varying chronologies) audience experience for the reader/viewer.
PK: Do you plan on organizing additional ekphrastic videopoem series in the future?
ST: You ask about more Frame to Frames events. Readers of Moving Poems can always submit ekphrastic poetry films to me. I will build a collection and it could serve for the next edition which will be down the line.
For press, further details regarding readings and screenings, or if you wish to submit ekphrastic poetry films for future events see poemfilmeditions@gmail.com.
To purchase the book please go to Poem Film editions at: Liberatedwords.com/store
The seventh MIX conference was this year held in collaboration with the British Library to coincide with their exhibition on Digital Storytelling.
MIX describes itself as an innovative forum for the discussion and exploration of writing and technology, attracting an international cohort of contributors. I, for one, feel like it achieves this aim. I’d last attended in 2019, and this year the event was much bigger. In many ways, this is a great thing – more people interested and excited by what can happen with literature, stories and poetry in the digital world. But it is also a trade-off. There were multiple sessions that ran simultaneously throughout the day. Which can be good if you know exactly what you do and don’t want to hear about, and are interested in a particular niche. But I do like a smaller event where, largely, everyone attends every presentation because there is only one strand. You discover unexpected things, and in a break, everyone has heard everyone and it is easier to pick up on the points of connection and mutual interest, or debate, and to take that forward into later conversations or long-term collaborations.
In the exhibition there are a variety of approaches to digital literature that can be seen and experienced. I’m left feeling I’m still waiting for digital literature to find its own aesthetic. The game-based examples of digital storytelling look like games to me – which is fine, but I can’t really comment because I don’t know enough about games. However, in the area of digital literature that are not game-based (including short stories, poetry and longer literature) but are designed uniquely, the examples that I saw are very strongly tied to classic book aesthetics. Either with shades of William Morris and the private press movement, or with the clichéd scrapbook/photo album aesthetic. I really feel I want to see something that has more innovative design that is not signalling ‘yes, we know you might be unsure of digital literature … but it’s ok, don’t panic, it looks like an old-fashioned book/scrapbook/pop-up book’. Those examples might be out there but I didn’t see them in the exhibition. Having said that though, there are some interesting things to see.
Seed Story by Joanna Walsh is very beautiful to look at but as much as I can appreciate that there is a different way of navigating through the text in different orders, I wasn’t sure I felt I knew why I would want to. I can do that with a hard-copy book. I can read chapters out of sequence or flick through and dip in and out, and often do, and enjoy the artefact in my hands. I guess though, Seed Story creates something of that experience and it needs to be compared to reading on an e-book reader where there are no cues to read in a different way, dipping in and out, reading in a different order or skimming are actually quite difficult. The navigational approach of Seed Story could be really interesting in connection with a collection of poetry or poetry films.
Poetry is represented by This is a Picture of Wind – a weather poem for phones by J.R. Carpenter.
During the conference itself, I then discovered the VR experience The Abandoned Library by Dreaming Methods. The VR creates a compelling world with lapping seashore, dripping rain, and blowing dust, in which to experience what could easily be described as a moving poem. There is spoken poetry in the audio, and poetry written in the landscape you see in front of you, and archive film clips, but everything contributed together to a very poetic experience. It was more than the sum of its parts in the best tradition of poetry film.
The keynote speaker Adrian Hon was great, and I particularly appreciated his call for creatives to be involved with technology at all stages of development and production of a project – this, I feel, is can be true for poetry filmmaking collaborations.
Panel 5 featured poetry film in Narratives of Climate Crisis – voicing loss, resistance and hope through the poetry film. The audience heard from Sarah Tremlett and Csilla Toldy, though sadly Janet Lees was unable to attend.
A further poetry film cameo was in Panel 12: Remixing the archive – creative digital reimaging, reworking and reuse. I shared the new project that I’m working on with writer Toby Martinez de las Rivas and sound artist Neda Milenova Mirova that uses, and is inspired by, a photographic archive at the Museum of English Rural Life.
Thank you to all the MIX team that put the event together. I look forward to another one.
The exhibition in London is open until 15 October 2023.
The programme is now out for MIX 2023. This year the conference is co-hosted by Bath Spa University and the British Library in London on 7th July 2023. The Library will be the host venue, and will coincide with it’s Digital Storytelling exhibition of digital literature and emerging formats, highlighting digital publishing over recent years.
There are presentations from panellists from wide-ranging disciplines that can provide inspiration for poetry filmmakers and writers, as well as from established poetry filmmakers – including Janet Lees, Sarah Tremlett, Csilla Toldy, and myself. See the full programme, details of the keynote speech, and supporting events: a curator tour of the exhibition with tea, and the evening live performance and sound experience – An Island of Sound.