1. Click below to listen to/download the fifth out of nine ‘chapters’ – recorded from a live continuous performance in a mobile planetarium dome, which was performed at Birmingham Art & Science Festival,Wenlock Poetry Festival, Stratford Literary Festival and Birmingham Literature Festival. Music/soundscapes: Giancarlo Facchinetti. Voices, in order of appearance: Professor Trevor Ponman, astrophysicist; Emma Purshouse – poet; Nadia Kingsley – poet. This project was supported with public money from Arts Council England.
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2. Click below to listen to/download the first few minutes, after the theme music and introduction, of one of the nine podcasts with poets, for the Arts Council England-funded project: Maligned Species. In this you will hear Tom Wentworth interviewing Nadia Kingsley: asking her about the idea behind the project and Nadia reads one of her poems from the book Shropshire Butterflies: a poetic and artistic guide to the butterflies of Shropshire. The podcast was recorded and edited by Giancarlo Facchinetti.
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3. Click below to listen to/download the first 5 minutes of a longer interview with Nigel Brown, where Nadia Kingsley asks him all about frogs, for the Arts Council England-funded project: Maligned Species. The theme music is composed and played by Giancarlo Facchinetti who also recorded and edited the recording
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4. Click below to listen to/download an extract from Giancarlo Facchinetti’s most recent soundscape using keyboard, loop pedal, electric bass guitar, electric guitars, halusi, tin whistles, morrocan drums and bongos. (August 2016)
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5. Here is an extract from the long poem by Nadia Kingsley called “Bridging the Unpath”, based on a series of walks near Criccieth, North Wales. The full poem is in the poetry pamphlet Through the Woods
and over the ho the phoo,
the oosh the oh
the pih pih pih pih the yeou
yeou yeou yeou
my breath slow
a gain a loss
the pulse of sea
vocabulary?
Shhhhhhhhhh
but how can mind be stilled
when overfilled
The nights as lively as the days.
Shhhhhhhhhh
shhh shhh shhh shhh
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
sleep is for the weak
lights on
a bridge
pedestrian
pooh stick bridge
flat straight no Monet painting The width
of two men talking its sides
a wooden fence
I leap the earth then legs a-
dangling lay
my top half sideways ear pressed eyes down, hear
“river-khaki brown and white mushing blue with streaks of black Gushing
over rocks sub merged slipping into hidden cracks creamy droplets plipping
up then crashing back” ‘you are dead so dead you lifeless lump You
violate my varied notes I summon the winds I call to the rain I swell turn
brown I will bring you down’ “You never have before
and I as much the landscape as you Be flattered that I stand
above you”
and Yew An ever-living dead thing coated
with moss leans
in. Neither bridge nor tree can know
where river sprang
or river goes
though over and over it tells them its song filled with how
in flooding
it caught a cow once river bridge yew
bridge me river you
yew that has grown to lean out
and over to hang on
by root tips in the telling of myths
to overhear over here Oh the ear
misses what it doesn’t know
those silent years that slip past in a moment they stay safe
in their own language and me
only picking at the gist.
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