The Iron Works
Creations from the community from our Iron People project
The Iron People story so far…
In Autumn/Winter 2023, we embraced the magic of Ted Hughes’ literary worlds, inviting families in Calderdale to participate in creativity days in Sowerby Bridge, Elland, Mytholmroyd and Todmorden
The Iron People Family Creativity Days ignited the imaginations of youngsters across Calderdale, bringing to life the enchanting tales of The Iron Man and The Iron Woman in unique and engaging ways. These events included storytelling sessions with local actor Alex Colley, movement workshops with Jen Malarkey and Northern Rascals, drop-in craft activities, and art workshops with The Iron Man illustrator, Chris Mould.
At the start of 2024, we invited adults from Calderdale to join workshops in poetry and acting. The three poetry workshops were led by West Yorkshire author Ian Humphreys: a Writing the River Poetry Workshop in Todmorden, a Ted Hughes, Eco-poet Workshop in Sowerby Bridge, and a Writing Children’s Eco-Poetry Workshop in Halifax.
The free acting taster sessions gave adults in Calderdale the opportunity to explore their creative interpretation of the stories.
In late August, Calderdale community members and local artists gathered at Cromwell Bottom Nature Reserve for an afternoon of storytelling, poetry, and movement, sparking new creative connections for our Iron People project.
In Autumn 2024, we worked closely with the community in Sowerby Bridge to deliver a series of creative events including mudlarking, soundscape and writing workshops, artbuilding and storytelling. This resulted in a creative celebration event looking at the stories of the River Calder.
A river poem, by Millie (age 12)
I went to the river and the river said to me
The brave step forward,
Follow me to the sea
The weak turn their backs
Afraid of what they’ll see
I am loathed and loved
Hated yet needed
They take from my waters
My sources depleted
They watch as I flow
On to the sea
But no one ever
Notices me
People strive and swim
In my waters
But their hope dies
Like lambs to the slaughter
I am forgotten
Hidden away
Given your trash
Filling day by day
No-one ever sees
What I can do
They watch as I flow
And leave me their shoe
The hope I can bring
The joy I can offer
The words I can sing
The happiness in my water
A character inspired by Cromwell Bottom Nature Reserve, by Clare Townley
My name is Branch, henceforth the Bank Manager.
During my half billion year apprenticeship with the River Bank I have witnessed, reacted to and moved around all your deposits: sandstone, mud, ice gravel, ash, smoky pollution and piles of unwanted rubbish. I have watched relatively helplessly over all your withdrawals of my precious materials, animals, plants and resources.
Now I AM TAKING CHARGE, and I will manage any further human deposits. I will only allow environmentally friendly deposits.
NO RUBBISH!
NO FLY TIPPING!
NO MORE INDUSTRIAL BY-PRODUCTS!
NO MORE DIGGING HOLES IN THE GROUND TO BURY STUFF YOU’VE THROWN OUT.
The only withdrawals I will condone are of things I can’t use: of methane, of plastic, of trash,
And better still, when you help me to regenerate my bounty of willow, fish, fruit and foraging, I will let you harvest your share; so your work will give you a return.
by Hannah 'Hunter' Hull
I am water, by Clare
I am water, wet and drippy
Salt, fresh, brackish, hot or nippy
Wash or splash, swim or dippy
Full of mud, weeds are grippy
When it’s clear, sweet for sippy
Float with rafts, boats or shippy
Flood River Haibun, by Nick
the rain was endless last night and at first light I walk to the river across fields and through woods, over to where the spate has reached. trees stand knee-deep in rushing water, marking the old line of the bank. above the black river cliff, across the way, the steep hillside is littered with fallen trees and stones that have been undermined by the sliding earth, unrooting things. the field has become a lake and river wildlife sprawls across this new territory. the air is fresh now the rain has passed.
rivers swollen with
the rain of days force new maps
new geographies
THE DOGS WILL NOT COME, by Caroline