CHLOÉ TOUZET

The launch party of the Mays XIX was far from your average night out in Kambar. The walls were decorated with flowers, poems and artwork, the ceilings were hung with bunting, and the dance floor was taken over by a series of live acts and poets. As the rooms filled, the atmosphere of Kambar became more like that of a gallery opening than that of a club. Guests admired the photography and artwork on the walls, milled about reading the pinned-up poems and extracts, and watched the silent films which were projected onto a back wall to the soundtrack of                                                                               voice and guitar from the dance                                                                           floor. Though the launch was for the Mays XIX, this year's edition of the Oxford-Cambridge anthology of students' writing and art, the evening celebrated several creative ventures. Copies of The Tower magazine (Girton's compilation of poetry, prose and art), Veer (the latest issue of a promising new writers' group), Zine and Vivid were freely available, and prints from Aviary magazine's latest envelope covered the walls. Also on colourful display were samples of the online output of Twitter poets - one read, 'Currently swallowing the bruised meat of my heart.' An hour into the launch, the musicians gave up the floor to the poets. The reading was opened by Ellie Kendrick, who treated the packed room to a preview of a work in progress, an intense and rhythmic evocation of London's tubes, commuters, and the mice beneath the tracks. Donald Futers intrigued the audience with his poem '47', and Nina Ellis gave a captivating reading of a work which she admitted she'd been too scared to read in public until now, 'Mother'. Sophie Seita presented several tightly-written word sketches, followed by Felix Bazalgette, whose reading hovered between poetry and stand-up - 'That poster I gave you for Valentine's Day' received roars of laughter for its anti-sentimental approach to love, yet managed to remain warm-hearted and tender. Celine Lowenthal's 'Sun Tan' was a sensual and autoerotic poem of transformation, and Orla Polten's 'Robin's Egg Blue' was a lyrical evocation of loss. Tim Waters presented a cheeky villanelle, Amber Medland a “pistachio vignette” and Luke McMullan closed the reading with a darkly visual poem on the removal of a tongue. After this impressive collection (the only hitches were the temperamental strobe lights and some noise competition from the bar), Andrew Macfarlane provided the perfect chaser with his brand of soulful voice/acoustic guitar. He was joined by Josephine Stephenson, who added harmony and a ukulele to the mix. The night, organized by Katya Kazakevich, was a wonderful mixture of gallery, party, music and poetry, and Kambar looked surprisingly pretty decked out in flowers.

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