Distilling Text Into Image: Des Walsh’s Words Inspire Alan Stein’s Songs of Weather
October 2025
Congratulations on the exhibition Des. How did this collaboration come about?
Alan and Charlotte bought a house here in Old Bonaventure, a few years back, maybe three, four years ago. They had met Paul Dean. I think Paul was up in Ontario with The March Hare one time, because Charlotte owned a bookstore, in Perry Sound, I think it was. And the March Hare went there; she hosted it. So Paul met them through that. And then they ended up buying a house in Old Bonvanture and then they invited myself and Paul over there for supper one night, and we just got chatting and stuff, and Alan had picked up some of my books, and been reading them, and anyway, we met a couple more times, and then he just approached me with the idea of doing the hand-printed book.
I’m not sure how many copies were made, but I think it was only 60. But beautiful. He more or less picked the poems. It was really his whole project. It’s a beautiful hand-printed book.
And that’s the book in the gallery?
Yes, that’s a copy of it.
What collections of yours did he take the poems from?
He took them from Seasonal Bravery, Love and Savagery, and The Singer’s Broken Throat. I didn’t offer anything from Mottled Birch, because that was, again, a hand-printed book that Gerry Squires and I did. And I wasn’t going to reprint the poems anywhere, not that the poems are any big deal. But Alan just took poems that were published, and I just wanted to stay with that rather than, like, say to him, okay, look, I got this poem, this new poem. Instead I said just pick the poems you want out of the published work, and then we’ll get permission from the publishers. And then he really did beautiful new work. Gorgeous.
Your collaborations with Gerry are very well known. There was even some theatre work, he designed some sets for your plays?
At least two, for sure. The Longshoreman Show and Tomorrow will be Sunday. And we did the Mottled Birch book, where there were poems that we worked with, and he did images for those. And he did a print of the Crow poem, he did an image of that, just a separate piece of work.
So what do you think of the exhibition?
I love it. I love it. Now, I didn’t see the one at Christina Parker, but we had another launch out here at the Fisher’s Loft in Port Rexton, and I was there for that, and I read some of the poems in the book, and, I mean, I love his work. It’s very rich and very, like, just calming to look at. And he was very dedicated to detail, and what he did, and how he used the poems that he was using. When he started sending me some of the images, it was extraordinary – he sent them to me by courier, he was in Ontario and I was here. When I was first seeing images, it was overwhelming, for sure. I’m very proud of my part of it.
Were you surprised by any of the images?
Some of them, I was, yeah, because it’s extraordinary. There’s one poem in particular that I wrote for my great-grandfather, who came from Ireland, who actually lived in Trinity Proper for 23 years. And it was a poem called Launch, and the image Alan did for that was just beautiful, with the fellow in the boat, the way he took the lines from the poem, and then to see what images came from his interpretation of the poem was quite remarkable.
Stein’s work seems really attuned to your words, that’s for sure.
I just love how he does, how he does the figures, the buildings, the boats.
Are you still writing poetry?
I’m trying to finish a book. I’m very nearly finished it, but it’s a struggle. I’m plugging away, but who knows, I may finish it before I expire.
You’ve written screenplays [The Boys of St Vincent] and plays; why do you go back to poetry?
It’s where I’m most comfortable. Where I’m most comfortable is with the poem, the solitary space that you inhabit as a poet, as opposed to a screenwriter or a playwright, where it becomes almost like a collective. With the poems, you’re walking alone, and I’m more comfortable with that.
Artworks: Greenspond Harbour, Newfoundland (Chalk pastel, oil pastel on handmade paper, 22in × 30in, 2023); Moonrise Over The Harbour (Oil on canvas, 40in × 60in, 2021); The Launch (Wood engraving, 6in × 4.5in, 2022); Mornings Mourning (Wood engraving, 6in × 4.5in, 2022); courtesy Christina Parker Gallery.
Alan Stein We Are the Songs of Weather continues at Christina Parker Gallery until November 8.