Another guest blog from Matt Macdonald, giving you a taste of the Inky Fingers Open Mic on March 26th, with video from Alec Beattie.
March’s Open Mic was another formidable line-up of talent and entertainment.
Nuala Watt, our feature poet for the first half, gave us charming poems dealing with, amongst much else, the transubstantiation of people into various things, love declarations to dining room floors, the copulation of pebbles and the curious happenings of the Werewolf Tree.
Opening up the first set of open mics, Inky Finger volunteer Alec Beattie graced us with his diatribes on the silliness of using bees to sell mobiles, the unlikeliest source of inspiration, and the offense to the senses that are Charity Shop Shoes. Next up, Lindsay Ure who captivated us with her Southern Gothic vignette after almost starting a fight with a noisy corner of the audience, and Inky Fingers newbie Jack Smith titillated with a story set in sumptuous imagery as deep and comfortable as Forest’s sofas, transporting us to upper-class Tuscany. It was fantastic to welcome touring Dutch performance poet Ellen Deckwitz, who blew us away with her expressive performances; Jitwam Sinha followed with stunning singing, quite literally with bells on. Then old hand Keith Mackie brought us some of the most imaginative murder scenes possible with his tale of forensic theological criminology, and Harry Giles, the evening’s compere, brought the first half to a close with a short piece on the alienating effect of gaining and losing Piercings.
Our second feature were the impeccable Zorras , who brought a blend of language, culture, film, poetry, music and entertainment to the room. Everything they did radiated brilliance, but highlights included an astonishing percussion solo that left every jaw on the floor, a peon to Edith Piaf thast was both funny and moving, and a twist to the Homecoming ™ charade of 2009.
Opening the second open mic set, Elodie Olsen-Coons and Caitlynn Cummings gave a joint performance of a story about the life and losses of a castrato. Long live the knife indeed. Taking the ample chance to embarrass myself, I read one of my newer poems History Of Art, a look at unrequited love through some well-known paintings. Doomsday Bus Station Of Blood, from Gordon Hay, Inky Fingers Virgin, was a tale of class, Tescos, and a perfectly oval rock, delivered with brilliant self-parody throughout. Rose kept us warm with some Smoke next, and then Hugh Man (or Al Young as he is known to his friends) entertained us with an epic on that other national sport for: getting pished, mangled, blootered, wankered, &c. Needless to say, Hugh spoke to a common wavelength for us. Closing the evening was Steven’s Myth, whose exquisite voice and chilled acoustic guitar cooled the evening down to a perfect close.
As ever, our audience laughed, howled and whooped beautifully throughout: if you were there, thanks again, and if you weren’t, make sure you’re free for the next one – you can’t miss out on talent this good!
We’ve got a few videos of the night below. Apologies for the image and sound quality – we’re just experimenting with some recording methods and ways of documenting our nights – but we hope it gives you a wee sense of the fun we have. And if you’re interested in helping us out with future filming, get in touch!