Yesterday a happy accident spawned a new performance/art practice. I have not been able to continue on my storytelling project -- the folk oratorio -- since I returned from residency. Not having my weekly rhythm of curling up, bundled under layers of coats, sweaters and scarves in the basement of the Avery is throwing me for a loop. I did not realize the pervasive calm that place infuses in my artistic soul. Alas... I digress as always.
So...the point of this post is storytelling. I had the small children after lunch duty yesterday -- atypical as I usually walk laps around the bustling cafeteria talking with the older kids and sometimes cutting up like one, within the acceptable limits for a teacher. However, fate took a turn and after all the little ones were settled in a fairly quiet mob in the second grade classroom, we made the discovery that the TV was non-functioning. Gasp! 50 kiddies and no movie? What to do? I started talking...then I started telling stories, morphing into a small little leprechaun and weaving stories out of thin air, with my new favorite flowered scarf as my only prop and costume. My interactive leprechaun tale led into my own personal retelling of Rumplestitlskin.
It was a hit. Shining eyes, smiling faces, laughter -- a symphony of joy. I'm doing it again today. And every Wednesday and Thursday that I teach or as often as the administration permits. What I learned from the telling, or rather what it reminded me of is the level of comfort and intimacy you must have with a story to pass it on to others. You must come as close to living it as you can. In other words, I have lots more listening to do at the Avery -- and interviewing and visiting the actual place and listening to the stories in the trees, and the sweetgrass...I'm glad I've been too busy. It was all part of the process...Trust the process.
Art is like taking a ...(you fill in the blank)
MB Disco
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