
If not If, What? Barry gave a spoken word performance on his poem
INCHICORE-raised poet Barry Currivan was proud to give a spoken word performance of one of his poems, ‘The Big Man Is Dead’, from his collection.
This poem came from his book ‘If not If, What?’, which was printed earlier this year, his first collection of poetry.
Barry has had a busy career, competing in two All-Ireland Poetry Slam finals, finishing third overall in 2023.
He has also performed at a few major summer festivals, including Electric Picnic and Forest Fest, as well as a major event with UNESCO in Pearse Street Library.
Barry’s book ‘If not If, What?’ is available from Books Upstairs and The Winding Stair Bookshop in Dublin and online from The Library Project.
This week, we sat down with Barry to discuss his poem, the performance of spoken word, and the open-mic night in Clondalkin in general.
Can you tell us about the poem ‘The Big Man Is Dead’? Where did that come from?
It actually started with a visit to a thrift store.
You know how sometimes you walk in and you notice everything seems oddly coordinated?
The clothes, the shoes, and even some old vinyl records were all strangely similar, as if they came from one person.
I had this moment of eerie clarity, thinking, “This must all be from the same house.”
And with that, the story built itself: whose house was it? Whose clothes? Suddenly, I imagined this giant of a man, someone locals would only ever refer to as the Big Man.
You didn’t need to know his name; he was just the Big Man. And now, well, the Big Man is dead.
It sounds like a poem that carries a full story!
Exactly. Once I started writing, it just poured out. I did some tweaking later on, but the core came through almost fully formed.
Those are special moments—when a poem more or less writes itself. I try to make my work as vivid and musical as possible.
If you use the right words, it should feel like the listener can see it, hear it, maybe even smell it.
Is ‘The Big Man Is Dead’ one of your favourite poems?
Definitely. It’s one of those that just clicked. The story, the rhythm, and the image all felt complete.
I’ve been doing this a while, and pieces like that are rare. People really respond to it too.
You’re quite active on the open mic circuit. How did the open mic event in Clondalkin begin?
Clondalkin’s a great little community, and this event began with a girl I knew, Casey Shelly. Along with Eoin O’Broin, Diarmuid Fitzgerald, and Shay Nolan, they started a regular open mic night in the basement of The Laurels.
It had a good run until lockdown hit. After that, it moved around a bit from East Village to The Monk’s Kitchen to Purty Central.
At one point, we joked you could fall out of one venue and into the next; they were so close together.
When Monk’s Kitchen shut down, the event was a bit homeless for a while, but it found its feet again. It’s been going strong on the last Thursday of every month, and it’s open to all ages, which is important.
Not everywhere caters to young performers, especially places that don’t serve alcohol. It makes a big difference.
It sounds like a vibrant scene!
It really is. You get all kinds: talented young voices, seasoned performers, and folks just giving it a go.
There’s a website called Boundless in Bear that actually listed our open mic nights alongside others from around the country, which helped bring in people from outside Clondalkin.
We’ve had visitors who’d never even heard of the place before.
What’s been the most challenging part of performing?
Reading to an unresponsive crowd is tough. You can have your notebook in hand and be fully prepared, but you need to engage with the audience.
Nobody wants to be that worst teacher from school who would just come in, read from the book, close it and walk out.
Even mixed reactions are something. If you’re getting any kind of reaction, you’re connecting.
That gives you the confidence to adjust, to gauge the vibe and change your delivery if needed.
Your first book seems to have done well; what’s next?
I’ve been thrilled with the response, honestly. The reaction has made me start pulling together a second book.
There are also more spoken word events and festivals coming up.
I’ll be performing again at Smithfield’s Creatives in Inchicore, and I’ve been invited as an interval act for an album launch for friends.
I’m also using events as an excuse to travel around the country a bit, take in new places, and meet new people. It’s always entertaining.
Anyone you’d like to thank for keeping the scene alive?
Absolutely. The committee behind the open mic nights deserves a huge shoutout: Deirdre Ní Shúilleabháin, Tanja Rehner, Eoin O’Broin (long before he was a councillor), and Shay Nolan.
They’re the ones doing the legwork: finding people, booking them, and spreading the word.
It’s their dedication that keeps the lights on and the mics live.