The Poetry of Philip Gross

bristol | miscellaneous | event notice Wednesday June 17, 2009 14:20 by Nick Thomas - The Pierian Centre info at pieriancentre dot com The Pierian Centre, 27 Portland Square, St Pauls, Bristol BS2 8SA 0117 924 4512

Philip Gross brings his prize-winning poetry to the Pierian Centre on Saturday 20th June. This evening of poetry and music brings to a climax our programme of arts and events for Refugee Week.

The son of an Estonian war-time refugee, Philip’s work is shot through with themes of exile and displacement. Terry Eagleton wrote that “Philip Gross knows how to make silence and suggestion resonate..... [his] poems are about lost bearings and blurred frontiers.” Philip lived in Bristol for many years until being appointed Professor of Creative Writing at Glamorgan University. He comes back now to read from his collection Changes of Address and to talk about the evolution of his verse. From its opening page – a refugee's first sight of England – Changes of Address presents a journey through our times, and a search for the meaning of 'home'.

“Harrowing and beautiful poems..... piercing in their clarity and depth of feeling,” wrote Helen Dunmore of Philip’s work. The Pierian Centre had to book Philip a year ago to make sure we had him for Refugee Week. “He should be recognised as one of England’s very best poets, not only for the exuberance of his imagination, but because of what he is writing about” wrote John Greening in the Times Literary Supplement. His work is being interspersed with beautiful music from guitarist Reuben Lenkiewicz to complete an evening of great skill and huge humanity.

Admission is free – but booking is recommended on info@pieriancentre.com or 0117 924 4512. The event is at 7.30pm on Saturday 20th June at the Pierian Centre, 27 Portland Square, St Pauls, Bristol BS2 8SA. Come early and enjoy the Celebrating Sanctuary art exhibition – details at www.celebratingsanctuary.co.uk. Full details of Refugee Week are at www.bristolrefugeeweek.co.uk.

I was the son of the Duke of Nowhere.
Nowhere was home. The first sound I remember

was engines sawing steam, the butt
and squeal of waggons full of clunk

shunted cruelly. Lifted to the window sill
I had my first sight of our exile

as I thought: Here, me,
watching… There, trains, going away…….

[the opening of The Duke of Nowhere]