Taking poetic licence

CAF Review: Between the Lines

Between the Lines - a musical celebration of Noel Monahan’s poetry was the centrepiece of Sunday’s Parklife offering in Con Smith Park.

Fronted by Daragh Slacke, the concert showcased the immense talent in our midst, not only the poet but the musicianship on stage.

Music was draped over the poems’ shoulders, leaving room for Monahan to perform faithful recitations, most effectively on ‘The Russians are Coming’, referencing the Red Army’s march into Hungary in 1956.

Introducing it, Monahan recalled: “Back then I found myself on my knees in the national school in Granard praying for the conversion of Russia and in some strange I hoped that the Russians would come to Granard, and shake it up a bit.”

Equally effective were the compositions where the musicians simply responded to his verse – you expect anything Ciaran O’Neill touches to be golden, as was the case with his sensitive, heartfelt handling of ‘Shantemon’; meanwhile Rita Perry’s haunting take on one of the poems was so authentically her, it could easily have been lifted from her own record.

Rhythmically the music was stitched together by the incredible Emil Kapusta and Andrew Lynch, who let their jazzy hearts roam over the verse without overpowering proceedings.

Monahan’s poems are often grounded in place, and at times this was echoed in the Celtic vibe created by Slacke on banjo and Ellen O’Brien’s joyous flute playing.

Marcus Magee’s evocative performance of ‘Bealtaine’ was a timely celebration of the month of May. Brimming with character his voice filled the Big Top tent. A gifted singer-songwriter in his own right, Marcus’ wonderful interpretation was this reviewer’s highlight. Any risk of the event becoming too earnest, was cut through with Cormac McCann’s quirkily brilliant reinterpretation of Monahan’s poem centred on the Celtic god Crom. Donning a hi-viz bib and safety helmet, he brought a New York aggression to the poem.

Given the range of responses, Between the Lines was a reminder of how poems fall away from the poet and have a life of their own with the reader. It also served as a jolt for those attending to reopen one of Monahan’s collections. DMC