In the lead up to her upcoming workshops, local performer Liz Wilkinson shares her thoughts with us about performing poetry and how this can differ from character work in plays or singing, via her blog:-
Speak the speech… trippingly on the tongue
Reading your poetry aloud before an audience is terrifying. Poetry is unique in its ability to show the vulnerability of the author. In an art form where every line matters there is no space for spare words, no flannel, no obfuscation. Every single word signals your emotions and when you are brave enough to stand alone and share those words you are exposed in a way that no other performing artist is.”
I have performed as an actor, singer, host and poet and by far the most intimidating was poet. But I love it and I love seeing other people do it to, because it is a uniquely beautiful sharing.
There is something special about poetry when it is being performed (and I include ‘read aloud’ in that) by the person who wrote it. That’s a fairly obvious truism, but bear with me… As an artist, as soon as you complete an artwork of any kind, be it a painting, a poem or a play, and let it into the world – it’s no longer yours. Whoever reads or looks at it will interpret it in whatever way works for them. I learned recently that this concept is called, rather morbidly, ‘the death of the author’. Okay. But here’s my contention. If you, the poet, are reading your poetry then you are impacting on the audience’s ability to interpret it in their own way. They are not experiencing it at their own pace, but yours. It’s their privilege and also yours.
So is that the death of the death of the author? Whether it is or isn’t, I think it at least means you have a responsibility to the work, the audience and yourself to deliver it as skilfully as you can.
But I can understand the fear of performing poetry. The first time I read my poetry aloud I experienced stage fright for probably the first time in years.
Poetry is a pretty solitary profession. Or hobby. You mostly do it on your own. Wordsworth said poetry “takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity”. T.S. Eliot said more or less the opposite, that the poet must depersonalise and separate from their emotions and recollection in order to create an “art emotion”. An aspiring poet choosing either path – or any of the million between them, is still thinking pretty intensely.
So if you spend a lot of time writing poetry, (and thinking while you do it) you’re probably doing it by yourself. In my experience, it’s easier. I have written poems in pubs (I love a timed challenge) but generally speaking it’s simpler with fewer people around and I suspect if somebody had tapped me on the shoulder and repeatedly tried to engage me in conversation in that ten minutes, I’d have snarled at them. I am not at my most sociable when writing.
When I’m performing, though? I am overjoyed to be the centre of attention. (Although I’d still prefer that you don’t tap me on the shoulder and try and get a conversation out of me). This is, in that irritatingly English fashion, an embarrassing thing to admit. It’s somehow bad form to love being on stage, but I can’t bring myself to care about that. Poetry festivals and open mic nights are split for me between the joy of performing and the love of hearing new poetry, performed by the person who wrote it. I’ve been lucky to see some amazing people perform their work including Naomi Wood, who I have seen blend aerial hoop and poetry to astounding effect and Attila the Stockbroker who after over 40 years is still delivering punk rock energy in his socially engaged work.
But I can understand the fear of performing poetry. The first time I read my poetry aloud I experienced stage fright for probably the first time in years. I was lucky to have a significant amount of performance training and experience to fall back on and it made things much easier for me, as I was able to let ’stage me’ come out and take over, reading confidently and clearly, while ‘stage-fright me’ hid in the back of my brain!
From then I was particularly attuned to the signs of stage discomfort in others. It makes my heart ache now to hear beautiful, eloquent poetry delivered by someone who is uncomfortable in performance, because I long to hear them sing it out to us; declaim it as if it were the last thing that the world would ever need to hear, share it with the audience in the way they hear it in their brain, roaring in its truth and beauty.
In September, I’ll be starting some new sessions as part of The Old Electric’s autumn programme of out-n-about activity, specially designed to support poets who want to improve their ability to perform their own work.
Each week you will explore techniques for building your confidence in performing your work and bringing your poetry to life. You’ll have the chance to take part in a broad range of instant writing exercises to inspire new ideas and develop your body of work and explore staging techniques such as personas, characterisation and presentation skills. A safe and supportive space where you can learn how to make your words shine on stage through collaboration with other poets. Although I will be leading the sessions, guests artists will be invited to join on a regular basis.
Performing Poetry Skills Workshops will be weekly on Mondays, 6.30-8pm.
1/9 for 7-weeks, 3/11 for 5-weeks, 5/1/2026 for 6-weeks, 22/2/2026 for 5-weeks
Sessions are FREE to attend. Places can be booked here
