Owen O’Neill: Red Noise

Owen O’Neill is a much better poet than he is a comic. I recently and unfavourably reviewed him in The Best of Irish Comedy, but this new offering, Red Noise, sees O’Neill in his element. The show is mainly a reading from O’Neill’s most recent collection, Licking the Matchbox.

Though the poems can (and, some might argue, ought) to be understood without addition, O’Neill’s anecdotal snippets provide welcome background, giving the audience a fuller understanding of the poems’ referents.

On this particular day, audience engagement seems something of a problem for O’Neill, who struggles to get more than individual responses from those attending (perhaps it’s that, at 3.45pm, few have acquired any Dutch courage). Once he plunges into a poem, however, he is mesmerised, disappearing into a world conjured by a combination of linguistic artistry and gesture.

It’s the poems’ performative quality that qualifies Red Noise as spoken word. Though O’Neill disdains the common supposition that ‘the Irish are great storytellers’, he fulfils the stereotype with aplomb. This is helped by the fact that his poems, if not following a linear narrative, revolve around the central theme of a childhood spent in County Tyrone. Though the poems can (and, some might argue, ought) to be understood without addition, O’Neill’s anecdotal snippets provide welcome background, giving the audience a fuller understanding of the poems’ referents.

Yet since the show’s strength derives from its close interweaving of poetry with contextualising narrative, those poems that attempt narration themselves (one spanning almost ten minutes) seem laborious. Rather, it is those that sketch memory, for example his depiction of the Crucifix on a primary school “painting day”, that are most vivid.

Like Seamus Heaney, the late Irish bard to whom O’Neill dedicates a poem (as he emphasises, ‘before he died’), O’Neill draws out the bigger picture through small detail. Each fragment of memory he pieces together can be stood back from to form a larger image: that of pain. Lightning strikes, bamboo whiplashing, playground beatings, pangs of confessional guilt. All amount to a childhood the pain of which was less a irremediable trauma than a baptism of fire, one whose reality leaves a lump in the throat.

Reviews by Rivkah Brown

Underbelly, Bristo Square

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★★★★
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An Evening with Dementia

★★★★★
Banshee Labyrinth

Rebranding Beelzebub

★★★
The Assembly Rooms

Owen O’Neill: Red Noise

★★★★
Pleasance Courtyard

Pierre Novellie is Mighty Peter

★★★
Underbelly, Cowgate

Mush and Me

★★★★★

Performances

Location

The Blurb

Red-headed fiery poet Owen O’Neill would like to meet affluent professional audiences with GSOH for an afternoon of bittersweet poetry and funny stories. ‘O’Neill is a master of the poetry performance because he is not only a poet, but also a stand-up comedian and actor, and uses these skills to great effect to bring his poems and stories vividly to life. Not to be missed.’ (Glasgow Herald).