The Art of Living Poetically
Lessons from ‘The Lantern Live’ at StAnza 2025

StAnza strives “to connect the Scottish poetry scene to the international poetry scene”, as abridged by participant Allistair Heather. To this end, it hopes to curate a “more developed poetry audience”. If I knew anything on this fine Saturday morning, it’s that I was not going to miss out on that. The festival travels around Scotland, hosting events where different poets have opportunities to read their work to a live audience. They use a tiered ‘pay-what-you-can’ system for their in-person events, ranging from £5-£20.
I was drawn to ‘The Lantern Live with Charlotte Van den Broeck & Nuala Watt’, an event kindly supported by Flanders Literature. The StAnza-run podcast hosted a recording in front of a live audience on 15 March, where these guests joined hosts Heather and Kathleen Jamie. Recognised as one of Scotland's leading young poets, Watt is originally from Glasgow, while Van den Broeck is a Belgian poet acclaimed by the Herman de Coninck Prize for her debut collection Chameleon.
As we walked in, Jamie explained that they tend to display a theme with their guests. Although it seemed to be fleshed out quite implicitly, the underlying theme I could notice was activism. Throughout the recording, each poet read selections of their work for the audience and discussed what they meant to them. At first, neither considered themselves to be an activist per se, with Van den Broeck clarifying that activism relies upon action itself. These reflections resonate profoundly in a town like St Andrews — a bubble of principled pandemonium and leaflet-thrusting smiles along the main library runway.
Their poetry grappled with the difficulties of living within systemic barriers. At first, both guests recounted the troubles they had faced. Watt spoke about the challenges of living with a disability and bringing a child into the world, whilst Van den Broeck reflected upon the issues that women face. A recurring theme in her work is the constant pursuit of identity, one pursued through intense and often graphic detail. She described this through a soft but stern calmness. As she delicately lingered on every word, each pause resulted in a momentary lapse of acknowledging silence.
Poetry, for her, is a uniquely intimate experience. She can reside within her poetry fully, preventing her from taking action. However, Heather astutely pointed out that the work itself can serve as a form of activism.
As discussions progressed, I could feel the entire crowd hanging onto every word, reacting to every phrase, and experiencing a sense of emotional relief at the end of each poem’s reading. For a split second, the people in the room could grasp their emotions. Watt spoke about how people judge her as a disabled person, and, how, just because they are assessing, does not mean they do so correctly. She hopes to demonstrate that disability does not define a person. Poetry for her is an extension of who she is — a correct assessment, you could say.
I was eager to speak with Heather after the recording. I hoped to discuss how poets “lived their work”. Heather works for BBC Radio 4, where he writes documentaries. I asked him if he, himself, wrote poetry. He said he did not. I then asked him whether, as a reader, he also saw poetry as an extension of himself. “Reading helps me understand my own emotions,” he answered. He described how it can serve to empathise with other people's bodies, minds, and experiences. A little more empathy in this town couldn’t hurt. Maybe I should read sometimes.
He bridged this together with his upbringing in a “wee town” in Scotland, one that never taught him to have any degree of expressiveness. “Poetry gave me access to emotions and put words to things, bringing a greater diversity of understanding to my internal life.” When referring to the importance of poetry as a medium, he described the way it sheds light on things behind media headlines, allowing it to act as a portal into the true emotion behind newsworthy events. This helped me to interpret poetry in a new light; as a life raft in a tumultuous sea of bulls**t media and politics. I found this interesting coming from someone who works for the BBC. Perhaps he needs it more than anyone else.
Watt outlined how she tries to employ every tool possible when writing, as failing to do so would be like using only half of a piano. She writes as an activist, where she, herself, is the act and the poems allow her to work through emotion. It allows her to paint a meditative self-portrait. Poetry thus enables her to assess herself and take that power back from others.
I can interpret the event itself as a form of activism. The act of reading aloud amidst a live collective became personal and almost revitalising. It felt like an unfiltered and impactful flow of knowledge, a stark contrast to the curated information we typically consume. Ultimately, it stood as a refreshing change from everyday media consumption, which is often driven by the urge to persuade, radicalise, or polarise. By compelling the audience to listen rather than react, its force was subtly yet undeniably powerful.
The crowd was certainly much older than I expected, but any lack of youth was outweighed by tremendous zeal. As I walked out, I contemplated this passion, remarkably present among the hosts, poets, and spectators. I find it inspiring when people can ardently live their work. It attracts good attention. Amidst a hub of student ambition, I reckon we could all do with a little less careerist anxiety and a little more self-introspection. Sadly, very few times have I found myself embodying the artistry of my PY1012 essays. Alas.
Photo by Walt Scott
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