Bob Hill

On: TRAIL 2008, sketches, the Old English Charm Spells, Teignmouth's Pier, Shaldon's ferry, Li Po (the T'ang Dynasty poet), and Bradford's legendary covered market

In addition to numerous writers – too many to list – I've been influenced by artists, particularly Mark Rothko, Catherine Yass and Max Ernst.

While it's generally acknowledged that artists' sketches can have as much validity as the completed painting/sculpture (think of Henry Moore), writers rarely seize that opportunity: the first, second, third (etc) draft is usually discarded, to be replaced by the final poem/play/novel. In Trail 2008, I'm keen to play with the writer's use of drafts; to privilege sketches rather than see them as a means to an end.

[ evaporate like water in a pail, become as little as a linseed-grain, much smaller than a hand-worm's hip-bone is, and so diminish that you come to nothing]

This 'sketch' is realised through its visual interpretation by George Davis (see www.fgdavis.co.uk for further information on the artist), and students from Torquay Boys’ Grammar School. Thus, while the mural remains in sympathy with my text, the artists project their own ideas - as opposed to providing a literal interpretation of the tropes of the text.

To this Old English poem, I've added contemporary prose poems reflecting the elements:

on being told you could see an island on the horizon, he looks intently, looks for a solid shape - to distinguish between sea and sky. Yet the more he looks the less he knows; whether it is an island, a low cloud or the shadow of something more.

The nearer the waves come to the shore, the stronger the pulses of water. Sees them confirm a semi-circle; watches for a long time, growing to like their rhythm, smiling at the regularity, waiting for their return.
Whenever the seventh reappears, he points out the one he knows so well.

Watch the clouds for faces - outlines of meadows, steeples or other reminders of home. The best he can do is transform the clouds into ravens – seeing these new & giant birds above a stillness of endless water.
Later a sky of a thousand stars presses down, mixed heavy with a thick scent of flowers.
The smell of cow parsley & dog-rose pervades.

In this instance the sketches are the collaboration between writer and artists, and the synergy created by the installation.

Sketch Two (Teignmouth's Pier)
Situated by the pier entrance, I ask holiday makers to select three words (all plucked from a hat) from the following sets of words - recycled from a dictionary:

herring pattern poultry; serpent lectern milk; shortbread husky locomotive; poultice mussel periscope; salmon cocktail jeepers; pristine twelve greyhound; magpie poultice nail; breeze disrupt propose; stove twitch cocoon; jade biro fennel; laughter peanut pencil; steam synergy honey; fashion mystery voyage; sunshine dance noodle; star ink belt; dog label constant; finance satire landscape

The aim is to use the three words to develop a narrative – all in the time that it takes for the holiday maker to return to the pier entrance.

Sketch Three (the Shaldon Ferry)
I will be on the ferry and each holiday maker is provided with a blank sheet of (recycled) paper. They will be asked to write a minimum of two lines and a maximum of three. When the lines are completed, the paper is folded to conceal all but the last line. The paper is passed to the person on their right. Each must then develop the exposed text by writing between two and three lines. When the ferry reached Shaldon, the narratives are read out loud.
The result of such 'Surrealistic Consequences' becomes apparent from the example shown below. (Individual contributions have been indicated by using italics, plain and bold):

I've just spilled my coffee on my skirt. Now I'm shaking my skirt.

I'm not all sure that I want to know what is responsible. It seems to be gentle rather than demanding. Should I acknowledge it?

I decided I needed to. I had to spell out my objection, so that they would understand it wasn't just me. I started to shout – louder and louder as the minutes passed, and all the while the tide was coming in.

In Trail 2008, I'm keen to play with the above notions, seeking to explore the use writers make of 'sketches'.

Email: bob.hill@southdevon.ac.uk
Mob: 07914 894351

Other Texts by Bob Hill

(Example One)

'Consumers are being misled '

[The cut-up technique is achieved through alternating sentences from two news items in the Bradford Telegraph & Argus.]

Consumers are being misled about the quality of burgers, sausages and other meat products, claims a new report. Police digging up the human remains at Gloucester's House of Horrors could be missing vital evidence, an expert at Bradford University claimed today. Small independent Bradford butchers Chris Tattersall, proprietor of Gordon Funk butchers, Southfield Lane, and Keith Taplin, whose stall is in Rawson Market, said they always labelled products with the basic meat contents. Lecturer Dr Charlotte Roberts claims the police are not trained pathologists and are not sifting the earth around the bodies as carefully as they should. Mt Tattersall said: 'By law, pork sausages have to have at least 65% meat and beef sausages 50%. There should always be a basic meat content on all products'. She said: 'They're digging haphazardly until they come across a bone, and are then ripping it out; this not only affects the quality of the evidence but means they miss some.' Gilbert Morgan, secretary of the Bradford and District Butchers' Association, said although the association did not cover large meat manufacturers, it was common for parts of the carcass such as the pancreas and the gizzard to be discarded in the abattoir. Because of this they could miss vital bits of evidence that could be useful later.

(Example Two)

Cast-Iron Songs & Torch Ballads of Li Po

I Li Po's Arrival at Court
Li Po's reputation was assured in the Northern provinces. Everyone greeted him with reverence. Yet, when he travelled south he was assumed to be a lawyer or civil servant.
All except the Emperor, he was the only one who recognised his true worth.
'Another poet,' the Emperor would growl when introducing Li Po at receptions.

V The Emperor's Wish for Variety
Having been told there were only twenty-four ways of telling a story, the Emperor was disturbed. Li Po suggested the Emperor's wish for variety should enter the storytellers' arsenal, as the twenty-fifth way.
The Emperor was pleased with Li Po's recognition of original thought.

VIII A Difficult Decision
Li Po was advised by colleagues to make an apology. The reasons were vague, and his friends wouldn't elaborate. They argued 'it' should be obvious and, to avoid further offence being caused to the party in question, he should resolve matters, and quickly.
Li Po puzzled over 'it' for some time. He trusted his friends, but at worst his offence was an unwitting slight. If he apologised he would have to make amends to others and it would create a precedent, and he couldn't accept that was appropriate. Li Po was not stubborn. His friends reminded him the next day of their advice.
Li Po sought out his acquaintance. She was sitting with friends in the gardens. He waited until she was alone. He approached her, still unsure of what to say.
Li Po sat by her side. 'I will give you a poem. It will be written especially for you.'
She smiled. 'I accept your apology.'

XIV A Question
On a day when he was in a good mood, the Emperor welcomed visitors and academy poets to the palace. No doors would be closed to those who sought an answer, to any question.
Wei Ying-Wu, a newcomer to the Han-lin academy visited the Emperor after the audience had left, The Emperor was moved that someone had responded to his appeal.
Wei said, 'You mentioned at the meeting of your open-door policy, if anyone wanted to speak to you.'

'Yes.' said the Emperor.

'There is something I've always wanted to know.'

'Yes?'

'How many years are there in a generation?'

XVII A Love Story
As she half-hid her face behind a fan, she caught Li Po's attention. Was it because she reminded him of his origins west of Szechwan? Perhaps her delicate toes pointing at him sent a message? Maybe it was because she was looking at him.
Days later her friend approached him, as a go-between, to say a meeting could be arranged. Li Po explained he had to work on a special project for the Emperor, and therefore was far too busy. The woman asked whether Tu Fu might help complete the exercise. Li Po thanked her, but the business could not be discussed so freely with others present. When Li had completed the task, would he then be free? Li Po believed so, but Court life was so busy anything could happen to call on his time it was so difficult to say with certainty when he'd be free if only he could be more helpful But he thanked her all the same for thinking of his welfare, and calling on him, on behalf of his mistress.
Li Po recalled the approach, and the reproach later; especially when the wind was strong, the weather cold, and he was old - with nothing but a mattress to fill his room. He would attempt sleep on one side of the bed - clearing a space for the moonlight to join him, and disturb the solitude.

XVIII A Poem Celebrated in Court Only once in his life did Li Po copy a poem and pass it off as his own. It became a poem celebrated in Court. Even the Emperor found it mildly entertaining. He summoned Li on more than one occasion to recite it. And the verse spread throughout the province. He was often asked, 'When are you going to write another poem like that?' As the clamour grew, it sounded like his secret was known to all. It echoed the corridors of the palace, 'Copy the poem again!'

XX Li Po's Dream of the Dream of Chuang Tzu
(for Jan)
Wanting nothing more than prolonged sleep, to be undisturbed for a few hours, because he really did believe it would be peaceful; being quiet and restful - let his bones and flesh finally relax, to recover energy and zest, for humour to return; and yet Li Po, continuing to write for the Emperor could only daydream of sleep and, having fitful lapses of concentration, felt he dreamt he was a butterfly and, when he came too with a start, did not know if he was a man who had dreamt he was a butterfly, or a butterfly who was dreaming he was a man.

XXXIV A Capricious Afternoon
Li Po met the woman and progressed, through the afternoon to kisses and tentative touches of the calf. She drew a halt there, but agreed to see Li Po the next day. On receiving her address he never forgot it.
Dew washed the streets as he went looking for the woman seen only once. Through districts without distinguishing features; looking for a house in streets without names. Walking, then hurrying, then running: looking for a house in streets without names.