IONA LEE: PAGE, STAGE & POETRY
Iona Lee casts her poetic magic over us. From page, stage and poetry Iona tells us about the importance to hold the door open for the ones coming behind … poems are spells.
Tell us a bit about yourself.
My name is Iona Lee and I am a poet, performer and illustrator raised on the beaches of East Lothian. I live in Glasgow with my pet rat Egon. I fell into the spoken word scene as a 17 year old, and it has gradually taken over my life ever since. I enjoy old pubs, new notebooks, Indian ink, Angela Carter and wild swimming. I have a pamphlet out with Polygon and I front a band called Acolyte.
Was there a particular moment that inspired you to get into poetry?
Not quite a moment, more a culmination of many. I have been writing short stories and poems since I was wee. I cherished being read to and spent my formative years around performers, actors and theatre-makers so I have always adored stories and the many ways they can be told. I remember a storyteller with a clarsach coming to my school; she bewitched us.
The work of a performance poet oscillates. You have to be good at spending long periods of time alone, and then you also have to be outgoing and sociable, good at taking control in loud bars and venues. I think that my personality suits those two extremes and so while I accidentally fell into spoken word as an art form, I am realising with time that it is the perfect art form for me.
What issues do women face in your industry?
There are – roughly – two camps in the poetry world and you can live in both or focus more on one or the other. We call them ‘page’ and ‘stage’. The two are inextricably linked, but while they are related there are definite differences. Stage poetry has fewer gatekeepers, it has a more DIY feel (you could technically set up a spoken word night wherever you wanted) and so there are more marginalised voices. The ‘published poet’ looks more like the typical archetype of the older white man, though there are loads of small presses out there doing amazing work on poetic equality. As with all things, gender in poetry is an intersectional issue.
As a female performer your sexual attractiveness and your age, your class and your accent, your race and your confidence all feed in to whether people want to listen to your stories or not. It is important to hold the door open for the ones coming behind, and to remember the generations of women before who held the door open for you.
Tell us about a campaign/advert that made you angry.
I feel cynical about most campaigns. Someone in a smoking area in a pub once told me ‘there aren’t countries anymore, there are companies’, and while that is a simplistic statement it has stuck with me. The grey area where feminism and capitalism meet is filled with insidious facts. Did you know, for example, that Dove (love yourself girls, you are all beautiful, look, this woman has a back roll!) and Lynx (women with airbrushed bodies and bouncing tits running at entirely mediocre men) are owned by the same company, Unilever?
What message would you put on our on our sticky bitches? (gender equality stickers, free on our site worldwide)
I am in touch with my inner labia.
*Brilliant, REEK agrees this should be on a sticker.
What’s your favourite word at the moment?
What are your three favourite smells?
Blown out candles, damp forests and swimming pools.
Are you more of a witch or a bitch?
A witch; poems are spells, and anyway I care far too much about what people think of me to be a bitch.