To be honest, I don't know that many writers these days, on a personal level. Times have changed, at least, for me. Let’s face it, COVID didn’t help, and it seems like many people are remaining more cocooned in their dwellings, in their computers, rather than involved in the community, live and in person. During the 1990’s there was a vibrant group I hung out with, partied with, put on events with, but this group has (sadly) long since dispersed. I thought it might be worthwhile to re-create some of that old-time camaraderie and "the interview" format seemed a nice, relaxed entry. I also wanted to interview poets who contributed to the literary community in broader ways, not only as writers, but as publishers, editors, event organizers, and such. I met Allan several years ago, probably through the Idler Pub Reading series which I coordinated and hosted for ten years, though maybe through Jill Battson, who was always setting up some poetry event or other, or maybe through the Art Bar Series, I can’t remember anymore.
While the Idler Pub is defunct, and Jill Battson has long since left the country, Allan has maintained a steady vital presence in the local Toronto (and surrounding area) poetry scene. I thought it was high time to celebrate that fact. Ladies and gentlemen, I present someone I do know on a personal level, the hard-working and always affable, always approachable, Allan Briesmaster.
1. Will the real Allan Briesmaster please stand up! Meaning, please give our readers some history and an overview of who you are and why you do what you do, as a long-time, multi-faceted, and creative force in the Toronto literary scene.
I only started to hit my stride with poetry in my thirties, when the demands of my second I.T. job eased up. At about that time, I got the chance to lead Phoenix, Toronto’s longest-running open workshop. Later I became the director of the weekly Art Bar Poetry Series, expanding it so that it reflected the full range of ways of writing poetry plus Spoken Word, with both distinguished and emerging poets. By then I’d seen how poetry thrives in “community” situations where poets offer each other appreciative listening, constructive feedback on the crafting of their texts, and moral support. My writing life and social life intertwined, and fellow poets were close friends.
2. You’ve hosted readings, were a founding partner in the now-defunct Quattro Books, and run your own literary press, Aeolus House. Can you elaborate somewhat on these activities?
My nine years with the Art Bar plus workshopping created opportunities to edit manuscripts and eventually publish books of poetry for which I had high regard. Early retirement from the 9 to 5 freed me up to engage in those activities full-time. I joined three friends in forming Quattro and stayed with the company from 2006 to 2017. I also did volunteer work at the “professional” level for the League of Canadian Poets, while continuing to value the grass roots. Over the years I gave editorial assistance to many poets toward their first or subsequent books. My micro press, Aeolus House, had its start a few years before Quattro and continued as a sideline, then expanded into bringing out an average of 10 custom-designed, limited-edition books of poetry annually. I don’t keep track but have had a hand in the production of more than 300 books since the late 90s. And then, there were and are launches and readings to arrange and host, and plenty to attend.
3. You’re also a published poet in your own right. How do these extra-curricular communal activities affect your writing?
I’ve never felt that my work in the poetry community encroached on my own writing space. Travel and self-promotion may have been limited but that was a trade-off. The stimulus of exposure to and close connection with a wide variety of voices, personalities and divergent poetics seems actually to have been conducive to building my own body of work at a measured pace. As far as I can tell, my writing style wasn’t impacted a whole lot by my associates’ aesthetics, but my output definitely gets an energy boost from the kinds of attention I pay.
4. Are you involved with any other literary activities at the moment, apart from the aforementioned?
I’m in a small group in York Region, north of Toronto, that started a reading series featuring fellow writers there. Our inaugural four-author event in Richmond Hill was very successful and we now plan to have at least one each season. Another recent development I was behind is the formation of the Senior Poets Caucus within The League of Canadian Poets. Its mission, among other things, is to resist the prevalent ageism in our literary culture, for the benefit of all members of the organization – and beyond. Meanwhile, I’ve written about half of what I hope will be my eleventh full-length book.
5. Have you noticed a change in the live literary scene, pre- and post-COVID?
There are fewer live events such as poetry readings and reading series. That’s a shame, because writers who were active pre-COVID keep on creating, and many new writers are emerging, some of whom have a limited grasp of what live events can do. I continue to host occasional Zoom events myself, but they can hardly be a substitute.
6. What drives you to write/promote poetry given there are fewer poetry publishers and even fewer poetry books being sold? Or am I wrong in this evaluation?
The dual difficulty of good poetry finding a worthy publisher and of worthy books reaching readers is troubling to contemplate. One has to believe that writing well and connecting with at least a small readership that appreciates one’s work justifies the effort taken – but most of us keep on anyway, out of a sheer stubborn compulsion. Despite the chronic frustrations of seeing poetry underappreciated, especially in our social media-saturated culture, I’m not about to give up trying to expand the audience hearing it live and reading it on the page. Well-written poetry deserves many more, not fewer hearers and readers.
7. Poets deal in words. What is your favourite word and why? What about another word that maybe strikes your funny bone or makes you feel uneasy/awkward for no particular reason when you say it?
I like “confluence” for its implication of flowing-together. I even made Confluences the title of one of my books. The word “serendipity” always sounds, well, rather “dippy” to me.
8. What other sources influence your poetry, i.e., music, movies, sports…?
Music, especially jazz and classical, is a lifelong influence. I like to feel I’m emulating both spontaneity (improvisation) and traditional principles of form: conveying rhythms and sounds in verbal gestures and structures unlike anything prose can deliver. I’ve also written about visual art, which is vital to me as well, while with other artforms, and sports, I’m mainly just a big fan. Game of chess, anyone?
9. Do you feel that poetry has the power to end war, hunger, discrimination and environmental destruction in the world?
Not directly. I wish it could help bring peace and justice and ease physical suffering, but realistically, only ethical action – supported by powerful words – can make headway in those directions. Poetry that preaches or lectures us on how to improve our conduct, etc. is unlikely to have durable artistic merit. Of course, those who appreciate poetry know how it enhances awareness and is otherwise precious and life-sustaining (despite the fraught aspects). It is interesting that fascists and virtue-signallers try to censor our work or cancel some of us.
10. Do you have any advice for anyone who’d like to be(come) a poet?
Be wary of all advice. But I would cautiously tell an aspiring poet that if they want their work to be any good, they ought to read widely, and not just the kinds of poems they think they want to write themselves. Read and learn from the classics and poems from different cultures in other languages. Read works in other genres too, and get intimate with a variety of artforms and performing arts. And beyond. Encompass (without turning dilettantish).
11. What question is it that you’ve always wished an interviewer would ask, and hasn’t?
Of all the places where you once lived (like Alaska) and traveled to (Britain, Chile, Bermuda), which ones had the strongest effect on your writing?
12. Add any additional comments of your own choosing. Manifestos included.
Poems: Give me pleasure, but not of a lulling kind. Don’t align too cosily with my biases or current fashions. And don’t hesitate to scare me at times. Or make me laugh. Open out ways to be more awake and in touch. Induce, and challenge, the whole of me to think, feel and imagine at least somewhat, and maybe radically, otherwise than what I’m easy and straight-laced about. Show me myself and others in harder light. Harder shade. Reveal. With that, you may console, lament, and also unsettle – preferably all at once. Inform me, too; instruct without patronizing. Freshen the commonplace and/or enlarge my frontiers. Recharge dull language. Then, together with long staying-power – change.
Allan Briesmaster is a poet, freelance literary editor and publisher who has been active on the Toronto-area literary scene for many years. He has been a workshop leader and reading series organizer and was a partner in Quattro Books in 2006-2017. He currently operates his own small, independent press, Aeolus House. The most recent of Allan’s ten poetry collections is Later Findings (Ekstasis Editions, 2024). He has read his poetry, given talks, been on panels, and hosted events at venues from Victoria to St. John’s. He lives in Thornhill, Ontario.
Stan Rogal
lives and writes in Toronto along with his artist partner Jacquie Jacobs. His
work has appeared almost magically in numerous magazines and anthologies. The
author of several books, plus a handful of chapbooks, a 13th poetry collection was published in March 2025 with ecw press. Co-founder of Bald Ego Theatre and
former coordinator of the popular Idler Pub Reading Series.