St Sidwell’s Day
On Saturday 30 July 2022, The Devon Voice Group & St Sidwell’s Community Centre presented a celebration of St Sidwella, Exeter’s patron saint, the City’s heritage, and Devonian culture.
With guest speakers, food, dialect readings and music from the amazing Jim Causley, it was a thoroughly Devonian event! Speakers included historian Todd Gray, former Lord Mayor Olwen Foggin, folklore expert Mark Norman, food historian Paul Cleave, & Devonian dialect & folk music expert Bill Murray.
Poets on commission!
Exeter UNESCO City of Literature was proud to commission two local poets - Clare Morris and Shaday Barrowes-Bayewunmi - to write and perform a poem each, in response to celebrating Exeter or Devon, as part of the day’s celebrations. You can read more about the poets below, read their poems, and watch their performances!
Watch Clare & Shaday in action here:
Clare Morris
Exonian by birth, internationally-published poet and spoken word artist Clare Morris is the 2022 Exeter Poetry Slam Champion. She appears regularly at Taking the Mic at the Phoenix Theatre and is a keen supporter of poetry events across the South West.
Here’s a little something from her about her poem:
We know little of Sidwella; was she real or a convenient fiction? We will never know for sure – and anyway, for me that’s not the point. There were plenty of young Saxon women in 8th century Devon, each with their own story to tell and to celebrate. I opened my poem with some lines of Anglo-Saxon as we don’t hear too many female voices in Anglo-Saxon poetry - Devon Maid Walking is my chance to change that! The second half of the poem tells of a Devon maid the morning after the Blitz - my mother - and celebrates the stories of all the Sidwellas we’ve met and will continue to meet.
Devon Maid Walking
Hwæt Sidwella hatte Þis giedd
bi mē ic singe
Biworpen felda fæst
ofer eastwealle ic wunige
Þæt morgenne gyltum gehrodene
hie sund cenlice gecumene
Þonne ic wearÞ geslaegen
Þonne ic Sidwella gestande ongean
Ne mæg wyrde ne wæter
ne lufe wiðstonden
So, Sidwella I be, this my tale I sing,
Field-fast surrounded, by the east wall living.
That morning, mired in guilt, bravely came those men,
Then I was slain, then I Sidwella rose again -
Neither fate nor water nor love can you fight:
My head low in prayer, I felt the scythe’s bite,
My blood, fresh spilt, blessed the soil deeper red
While my spring surged skywards, a miracle ‘tis said.
And so my tale begins anon -
And how the years have soon yronne,
Micel change ywroghte in thought and tongue,
Mine entente alwey to be singing and talking,
A Devon mayde clepėd, thinking and walking,
Spinning my rhymes, weaving my twine,
Quenching your thirst as you visit my shrine.
‘Tis May 42, morning after the Blitz
And I’m walking still, trying not to slip
On the water, the hoses, the destruction all round
But I’ve a job to do so I’m heading toward town.
Policeman says, ‘Where be gwain then maid?’
‘Commercial Union, sir; I’ve got to work to get paid.’
He looks down at me as he guides me away,
‘Don’t think they’ll be needing ‘ee there today.’
And I squints up the High Street to see what’s been brewing:
King Alfred’s still standing but the rest is in ruins,
So I turns to go home, but I’m back soon enough
And I’m working again ‘cause when things gets rough,
You needs jonnick Devon maids, gwain long lanes walking,
With skull-sharp scheming and a quaint way of talking.
Now 80 years on, I’m not Sidwella, just Sid,
My future’s unknown, my gender fluid
And I lives in a city that includes everyone
But my story bain’t over, ‘tis hardly begun,
So I lets my free mind do my best talking,
I’ve a heart made for loving and I’m still walking, walking.
Shaday Barrowes-Bayewunmi
Shaday Barrowes-Bayewunmi is a Plymouth-based Performance Poet. This year she has focused on drawing from her experiences of having Alopecia Universalis, using it as inspiration to create work that’s daring, political and spreads awareness for the community. Her work also explores themes such as identity, vulnerability, race and mental health. She has written and performed an autobiographical scratch, as part of her final project, as a creative artist in residence role at Beyond Face 2021. She was chosen to be a part of the BBC Words First scheme 2021 and was the Spork Poetry Slam winner 2022. Shaday has worked as a Freelance Poet, Theatre maker and Practitioner with organizations across the UK, including Beyond Face, Talawa MAKE, BBC, Nine Arches, The Barbican Theatre Plymouth, Strike a Light, Poet in the City, MIND Charity and Alopecia UK.
Here’s a little something from her about her poem:
This piece was a collation of comments from people that were born in Devon. The memories, the conversations but also the pride and special moments that happen within this magical county. These people are proud to be here and they wouldn’t have it any other way…
In a county like Devon
She came to Devon, through a dark tunnel, not knowing the possibilities,
Not knowing how she could ever make her imprint
Chizzling away at the earth, nestling her spirit in the ground.
Forging her name into the soil. She finally came out of the tunnel.
Went through a rebirthing, a resurfacing.
Just so she could let them know.
She was here.
She was Discovered by the beauty of its community.
The people.
I asked them to think about - What does devon mean to me?
Heres what they said:
They blossomed here at university, fell in love with the city
They formed their identity in its current,
Sipping on the hot chocolates, watching the sunset by Wembury,
She didnt have to spend too much money, these memories were priceless.
She didnt need to pretend like she was safe, It was her, herself and Devon,
Devon and its green space
What does Devon mean to me?
I was born here, it’s my world and all I have known since I was a boy.
The beautiful souls that his paths have crossed, shaping him into the man he wanted to be
And they love dipping their tootises in the sea, hanging out with friends and soaking in the breeze.
The blue sea, the connection between you and me, the sailing boats, the scope of her is - captivating,
Shaped in the versatile scenery, the ocean views, the nature, the greenery.
I’m not sure if it was the memory of her dad taking her out to have her first bike ride,
Or the first time buying scallops for such a low price
Maybe it was the forming of a friendship bond, that will never break, a bond that is tight, right here in Devon,
The Janners both old and new, the exchange in stories between the two
The appreciation of how breathtakingly beautiful it is.
Here’s also to the complicated relationships, the figuring out where their place is,
The protesting, the new and old faces, the people who are still a part of Devon.
The people that walk within it, The people that live within it, They were here.
The connection between the bands and the stands, the slams, the theys, the shes and the mans.
They were here,
The libraries that hold stories of the people that look like me.
They were here,
In a county, like Devon,
Today we celebrate,
We make space for more culture,
We fuse all these different people, embracing their distinction and diverergency.
We call out to Devon and tell her to amplify the voices that keep it’s richness in tacked.
The underdogs, the artists, the students, the younger generation’s.
They are here.
We are standing as mirrors, shining our lights.
For these are the reasons, that make it, what it is.
A county, like Devon.
