#francesca beard

[carminamasoliver]

Freelance Reflections #10

As of last Wednesday, it has officially been a year since I registered as self-employed. I’m in a much better position than I was a year ago when I started. The main battle is with my mind, to stop questioning myself and live how I want to live. I have regular work to keep me going Monday to Wednesday, which spills a little over into Thursday. This means I have  between 3-4 days to focus on other…

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[connectza]

Words And Literature: Francesca Beard

Francesca Beard was born in Malaysia and lives in London.She  has been called 'brilliant' by the Scotsman, 'spine-tingling' by the Independent and 'The Queen of British performance poetry' by London Metro. She has performed her poetry all over the world, with the British Council - a café in Azerbaijan, the Bangkok Book Fair, a Colombian prison… and all over the UK, in arts centres, schools, libraries, festivals and clubs. Her one woman show, 'Chinese Whispers' and children's show 'Animal Olympics' have toured nationally and internationally. She’s had a short play on at the Royal Court Theatre and plays on BBC Radio 3 and 4. She has been a writer in residence at the BBC, the Tower of London, Hampton Court Palace, the Natural History Museum and the Metropolitan Police.  She is currently developing 'Storyverse', a trans-media participatory story-telling experience for live and on-line audiences with B3 Media, supported by Arts Council England and developed through residencies at The Banff Centre Canada and The Mixed Reality Lab, Nottingham University.

 www.francescabeard.com

Image by: Carlos Cazzura

[barpoetry]

You have to take the audience beyond the language, so they don't even realise you are using words to shape their journey. Think like films. Be immersive. You are responsible for your audience. Bring everyone onto the bus and take them with you. Everywhere. Stay present. Be kind to hecklers. Always know why you are performing.

Francesca Beard. Exerts and paraphrases from her workshop on poetry and spoken word performance at BARcademy 2014.

[connectza]

The Open Book festival

What it is

Connect ZA has partnered with the Open Book Festival taking place from the 17-21 September. UK poet and playwright Francesca Beard will take part in various workshops, poetry events and panel discussions during this annual literary festival.

The Open Book Festival takes place in Cape Town, and includes events that feature both international and local authors. The five-day celebration is an opportunity to engage with authors whose books and work has been enjoyed over the years and some which are new to the literary landscape.

The Open Book Festival takes place in Cape Town, and includes events that feature both international and local authors. The five-day celebration is an opportunity to engage with authors whose books and work has been enjoyed over the years and some which are new to the literary landscape.

On the 13 September Francesca will be part of the Poetica Slam Techniques Workshop, where she will have a featured set. On 19 September, Francesca will facilitate a ‘Performance Poetry Master Class’. Spoken word poetry is another part of the Open Book Festival programme, and this year will focus on mother tongue language poetry. Spoken word activity will culminate in the second Open Book Poetry Slam which will happen at the festival on 20 September, where Francesca Beard will sit on the judging panel.

As part of her trip, Francesca Beard will meet up with the Word N Sound Poetry and Live Music Series in Johannesburg. On Wednesday 17 September, Francesca will take part in a workshop and then will go on to perform at the Word N Sound Poetry Corner event.

Francesca Beard was born in Malaysia and lives in London. She has been described as ‘spine-tingling’ (The Independent) and ‘The Queen of British Performance Poetry (Metro) and has performed and run workshops for the British Council all over the world.  Her one-woman show, ‘Chinese Whispers’, produced by leading performance poetry organisation, Apples and Snakes, toured the UK and internationally from 2003 through to 2007. In 2007, she was on attachment to the Royal Court Theatre as one of the UK’s most promising writers. She is currently working on ‘LondonTales’, a Canterbury Tales for the 21st Century with B3 Media, as part of PowerLab, a cultural leadership programme.

For more information visit:

www.openbookfestival.co.za

www.francescabeard.com

www.wordnsound.wordpress.com

@OpenBookFest #OpenBook2014

@FrancescaBeard

@WordNSound

Image: Retha Ferguson

[aristotlemcdonald]

Old Love

In the glance of a mirror, I saw a timid shape standing in the bevelled bit, the thin prismatic strip on the edge of the frame and thought it was a ghost of you.

What are you doing here? You can’t just appear, without warning, like we were used to it being. You seemed blurry, like the first and the last time. In between, how huge you were. The shadow you cast let much sleep beneath its shade. You wavered in the air, vanishing. How I wanted to hold out my hand, so that your sad ghost could crawl into a friendly cradle. Of course it was nothing—a trick of the light and a splinter in the eye of a hair gummed across the heart.

No, you are frozen where you were that last time, deaf and dumb, a wax-work in the pin-hole museum, while your tiny, passionate soul, marooned in the middle of nowhere, cries and stretches out its arms.

Meanwhile, on my own rock, on the other side of the world, I think of you, blind and stumbling in the dark, while the rescuers throw the beams of their torches into the wrong cave.

[madras1-blog]

World Poetry Day: Performance Poetry in Khartoum

In the celebration of World Poetry Day, poet Francesca Beardwrites about her visit to Khartoum with…

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[allyourprettywords]

"Old Love," Francesca Beard

In the glance of a mirror, I saw a timid shape standing in the bevelled bit, the thin prismatic strip on the edge of the frame and thought it was a ghost of you.

What are you doing here? You can’t just appear, without warning, like we were used to it being. You seemed blurry, like the first and the last time. In between, how huge you were. The shadow you cast let much sleep beneath its shade. You wavered in the air, vanishing. How I wanted to hold out my hand, so that your sad ghost could crawl into a friendly cradle. Of course it was nothing—a trick of the light and a splinter in the eye of a hair gummed across the heart.

No, you are frozen where you were that last time, deaf and dumb, a wax-work in the pin-hole museum, while your tiny, passionate soul, marooned in the middle of nowhere, cries and stretches out its arms.

Meanwhile, on my own rock, on the other side of the world, I think of you, blind and stumbling in the dark, while the rescuers throw the beams of their torches into the wrong cave.

[precipitevolissimevolfermo]