Adventures in Iceland: Nýhil Day Two

The second day of Nýhil’s 3rd International Poetry Festival began with a belly-filling breakfast at Prikið, after which Conor and I raced to Mál og Menning for an afternoon bookstore reading. Mál og Menning, similar to other contemporary spaces in Reykjavík, has a clean and manicured feeling to it, with large windows and polished wood. I was ecstatic to see an entire table on ground level devoted to displaying Nýhil's publications. Ingólfur Gíslason, Gísli Hvanndal, Linh Dinh, Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl, and I gave brief readings. (I read the wolf poems from echology.)

The reading was followed by chillaxing with Eiríkur and dinner at one of Reykjavík's oldest Chinese restaurants. We then scooted to the National Theatre's basement for the second ten-reader poetry party, a night again filled with excellent readings (largely in Icelandic) and good energy.

For his reading, Arngrímur Vídalín switched between paper and computer screen as he read (video below). Vilja-Tuulia Huotarinen cast an enchantment over the audience that held me transfixed by her dark Finnish tongue. Other readers included Kristín Svava Tómasdóttir, Ásmundur Ásmundsson, Björk Þorgrímsdóttir, Kristín Eiríksdóttir, and Jóhamar. Music was provided by the lilting Ólöf Arnalds.

Linh Dinh read widely from Borderless Bodies, and also shared a lengthy poem focused on English translations of Vietnamese idioms that use the word 'eat.' Linh's a powerhouse thinker, dynamic and challenging in his assertions; a sample from Sunday's panel discussions included Linh proposing that the eventual fall of the American empire will trigger a death for English. Conor spent some time after we met Linh reading aloud to me from jam alerts. I would love to have him up to Toronto for a reading and discussion.

Of the Icelandic poets who read on Saturday evening, Örvar Smárason was my most anticipated. I've followed his work as a musician for several years, and have delighted in the quirky lyrics (and especially the titles!) of songs by his group, múm. Örvar's reading proved the most unintentionally hilarious of the evening, as he'd invited four friends to sing in harmonized a capella while he read a poem about Montevideo. What delighted was the occasional lost pitch or note, and the eventual corpsing of the singers.

I anchored the night with excerpts from Wide slumber.

Do check out video clips below, shot by Eiríkur!