You Are Not Alone: Finding Connection Through Poetry at StAnza

The annual StAnza Poetry Festival, which this year ran from Friday 13 to Sunday 15 March, has been a highlight of the Scottish literary calendar since it was founded in 1998. The festival brings people together to celebrate poetry while promoting community, accessibility, empathy, and imagination. As a fourth-year student studying English Literature, I am surprised to say that this was my first encounter with StAnza. 

This year’s festival, held at The Byre Theatre, was entitled “You Are Not Alone.” The programme promised an impressive range of workshops, readings, walks and screenings, from student speakers to prize-winning poets, including appearances from T. S. Eliot Prize winner Sarah Howe and National Book Award winner Terrance Hayes. I signed up to volunteer on closing night, eager to take part in the festival and to get some behind-the-scenes insight.

Before my shift began, I spoke with prize-winning poet and former StAnza chair Marjorie Lotfi, who this year ran morning poetry workshops called “Marjorie’s Table.” I was particularly interested in her thoughts on the performance of poetry at the festival.

“It feels a bit like undressing on stage, you feel a little bit like you've taken off your outer shell, because you have to be really honest or else the poems won’t work. An audience can definitely see when you're being disingenuous. The good performances are people telling their stories in a really unbarred way,” she explained.

Lotfi praised Pulitzer Prize winner Carl Phillips’ Saturday night reading and described to me how he “circles things” by asking questions aloud, working through his poems and thoughts. 

“Hearing him tell the stories of where the poems came from and then reading the poems has a huge impact on me … It just embellishes the experience and is a gift,” she said.

I started my shift, helping wherever I could. We were encouraged to bring a book for downtime, and I read 60 pages by the end of the evening. Otherwise, I milled around the bookshop, completed small tasks here and there, and soaked in the friendly, encouraging atmosphere with like-minded people in the lobby.

I was fortunate enough to slip in for the second half of “Poetry Centre Stage” to hear Terrance Hayes read from his collection entitled American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin. His last-minute availability, along with having the chance to sit in the auditorium as a volunteer, made the event all the more memorable. I felt incredibly lucky to be there.

 I also spoke with Tim Cresswell, StAnza’s current Chair and Ogilvie Professor of Human Geography at the University of Edinburgh. Impressed by the festival’s sense of togetherness and community, I wanted to know what poetry could offer us in times of crisis.

“In my discipline, there are all kinds of [processing] methods you could use, but poetry is another kind of method. As you write, you're thinking, and that thinking is a way of getting to things, different kinds of truth,” he said.

Part of this he described as the “Politics of Noticing.”

“If you give someone all the stats about global warming, they're not interested. But if you take something quite precise and noticeable, then they start to say, ‘okay, this is real,’” Cresswell noted. “It becomes personal. Poetry is a bridge between the very small and the very big. And so, it helps to let people see the big problems through the small things and at the same time not being despairing — remembering that there's always beauty.”

The festival’s final slot went to Inklight, the student creative writing society, featuring former World Slam Champion Harry Baker. Baker’s recitation was laugh-out-loud hilarious, and hearing from students was incredibly inspiring. I listened as I ate my dinner with a new friend, reflecting on the festival’s theme — I was not alone.

I finished my interviews with Lotfi and Cresswell by asking each for their advice. They each agreed on one thing — read! 

Cresswell offered practical steps:

“The best thing to do is to just look at things. Go into a bookshop, and if you find a book that you find three things in that you like, you're probably going to like that poet.”

Lotfi built on this advice: “Ask yourself hard questions. If you love something, why did you love it? Why did that moment hit you? What was the craft behind it? Read it once for joy, and then start learning about what tools are underlying the shiny exterior of the piece. I think the more we read with an eye, the better writers we become because we build our own toolboxes.”

I left my shift with much to digest and my fingers tingling for the poetry books on my shelf. Just as we were finishing up, I was glad to hear the crew being rounded up for a drink at Aikman’s — the perfect way to celebrate another successful year of StAnza!

Photo: Mali Delargy