The filmpoem features new writing by 20 poets, soundtracked by composer Luca Nasciutia and read by poet Rachel McCrum.
Way down in the warm blue crevasse
of night its fishing commences
Except for Iain, who looks both found & lost, / already haunted by his own baffled ghost…
In his final years, illness attended / the artist. His friends brought him flowers / and, in modest works, when…
Who can gauge our range or pace? Every woman, / a signal tower, an illusion, a ship bearing dead ahead.
Ana Dali, Salvador’s sister,
/ shown here in an ominous frock,
/ eloped with an amorous easel
/ to the melting apartment block.
/ She waves through a…
As fast as Glasgow burned its theatres to the ground
/ it built them back again – we couldn’t do
/ without our…
No piece of art is perfect. / All it has to do is stay around / for two hundred, or…
My art is my performance. / My performance is endurance.
As spiders haul their thread from stem
/ to stem to weave the light, what do they care
/ if all that skilful labour’s…
It wis the licht he desired:
/ The mellin pinks o the stane,
/ At Cassis, that myndit him o Mull;
/ But here wis flesh…
Afi reykti pípi
/ í sextíu ár
/ og hékk þar á vegg
/ landslag úr norskum firði
/ Forvörður þvoði loks
/ og fann lítið þorp
/ við rætur fjalls
/ forvörðurinn þvoði…