I had not been able to write on the blog because I have taken a full time job, and somehow have felt overwhelmed by the amount of stuff I had to learn. There was also sheer exhaustion and having to work with a very old computer.... so things got somewhat put in the back burner... however, as many blog writers know, soon the blog-bugg bites again, and here I am, with new energy and fever wanting to share with you more about my wanderings through storytelling.
Today after several weeks away from the world of storytelling, I became a teller of stories once more. This time it was in front of an audience of about 15 children and 50 adults in St Andrew's Parish Church. I told the Story of the Bamboo. It is a wonderful story of solidarity where a bamboo agrees to be cut down in order to serve his master who will use the bamboo to water a field. A colleague of mine sent me the story through the email on Saturday afternoon and I had little time to research it.
Memory work or re-invention....
When I started storytelling, I felt that I could never remember everything about a story. I was afraid of getting lost in the detail. Storyboarding worked wonders to help me pin thedown the important elements of the story, but now, with some storytelling years down my belt, I understand that a story is never the same, no matter how many times you tell it. No single storyteller will tell the story in exactly the same way to different audiences. A process of adaptation and incantation and improvisation occurs each time.
I am placing the story at the end of my commentary exactly as this friend emailed it to me. I tried to locate it on the Internet in order to give its full provenance, but I have not been able to find it. I am placing it for you to see, because it is an example of the work that goes on upon the transformation of the bare bones of the story into the art of storytelling. I think that in the process of taking possession of the story, or rather, allowing the story to dictate its meaning and poetry to the storyteller, each story takes on a different feel and personality.
In my case I chose to place the story in China, because our children would have seen bamboo when visiting either the Chinese garden in the Royal Botanical Gardens or the Edinburgh Zoo and the Pandas... anyway, as it so happens, we grow bamboo in our own garden in Bo'ness and I was able to get a few bamboo leaves to show to the children.
Let the characters speak through you.
I went to the garden for inspiration. It was cold but there was still light. the story was resonating in my head and I looked for a while at the bamboo and sat next to the rose bushes which are close-by. The bamboo spoke to me and I wanted to convey the sense of wonder whenever I see and feel the rustle of the wind go through the bamboo leaves in our garden. I wanted my bamboo to have a real voice in the story... so I started by giving a name to the bamboo.... Bak Choy (reminiscences of Chinese cabbage no doubt).
I also decided to develop a relationship between the bamboo and its master, so I invented a little ritual where the master would come every morning to great the bamboo as he took his morning walk through the garden. Bak Choy would be eagerly awaiting the visit of the master and would call in to his friend the wind, so that the leaves would rustle in welcome as the master approached. I also started making the sounds of the wind and swaying softly the leaves of the bamboo, so that the children would get an idea of the tree dancing through its leaves whilest waiting to meet the master. The visual and sound imagery worked really well. The children and the adults were enthralled.
Create a mood and wellcome the audience
Storytellers I admire, invite you into their world, and enthrall you within. I have learnt that props, simple props can help in this. I use a Turkish hat. I call it my storytelling hat and put it on as I sit on the floor amongst the children. This is my way to give them the idea that we were entering a different world, where, I am no longer me, and they are no longer themselves and we are about to embark on a magical world where, for example, bamboos can speak and their friend is the wind. In this particular story I used some bamboo leaves to give the children the sense of the plant and they way it could rustle in the wind. In other stories I have used percussion instruments, or little whistles that sound like pre-hispanic flutes. I use props to help me create a world of magic. I do not want to prop to be central to the story, just to help the audience to imagine a scene, or a sound or a mood.
Maintain the momentum
I only had 8 minutes for my story so things had to be quick. I was however keen to keep my audience with me, so i constantly keep eye contact with the children and the adults, to make sure that I am being followed. It is a wonderful thrill to see the children's eyes light up in amazement, or their faces drop in sadness if the story takes on a sad turn. I have also experiences panic when I know that I am losing the audience and this is a terrible position to be in. In those cases, I try to use my voice to bring them back, but, I have not always been successful. I need to work more and more on my voice. This time however, I was lucky and I had my audience with me all the way.
My endings aim at resolution
This is scary, but I sometimes change the endings of the story in order to fit with the mood of the moment. So much for accuracy; however, I feel justified because, depending on the audience, the setting and their response tothe story and to you as a storyteller, the ending can vary. What I try to keep in mind however, is that endings should bring peace and a resolution to the conflict created at the centre of the story. Maybe I am very traditional, but I yearn for resolution. This does not mean that the ending always has to be a happy one... it merely means that you might need to have several endings up your sleeve and select your ending to suit your audience and their moods. This is why it is so important to make sure that your audience is with you at all times, so that you can gage the mood and adapt and improvise as needed. storytelling then becomes perpetual improvisation.
Credits
The bamboo photo was taken by CheGuevara Paul
"The Story of the Bamboo Tree -- A traditional story from China
The Bamboo tree stood tall and straight, holding up its head proudly because it knew that it was the master’s favourite tree. When the master walked in his garden the Bamboo would bow its proud head in greeting.
One day the master stood before the Bamboo and said, ‘Bamboo, Bamboo, I must cut you down.’
‘Cut me down! Oh no, master! No!’
‘Yes,’ said the master. ‘You cannot serve me unless you let me cut you down.’ The Bamboo bowed its proud head, saying sadly, ‘Very well, master, cut me down if that is the only way I can serve you.’
‘That is the only way,’ said the master. And so he cut the Bamboo down.
The next day the master stood looking down at the proud Bamboo Tree lying on the ground, its trunk long and straight and its branches spread out. ‘Bamboo, Bamboo,’ said the master, ‘I must cut off your branches.’
‘All of them?’ cried the Bamboo.
‘All of them,’ said the master, ‘or you cannot serve me.’
‘Very well,’ sighed the Bamboo, ‘Cut all my branches off, for I would serve you!’ So the master cut off all the branches. The Bamboo lay alone for a time thinking sadly of its lost beauty, and wondering what else the master had in store for it.
Presently the master returned and said, ‘Bamboo, Bamboo, you have a fine, strong, straight trunk. I must split you in half from top to bottom and take out your pith.’
‘Oh no, no, master!’ wailed the bamboo. ‘I shall die if you do that. I will serve any way I can, but do not split me!’
‘Bamboo, Bamboo, you cannot serve me if I do not split you in two and take out your pith.’ ‘As you will, master,’ whispered the Bamboo.
So the master split the Bamboo from end to end and took out all the pith. Then he laid the two halves of the trunk end to end and fastened them firmly together. One end he laid at the mouth of a little spring of water, which bubbled out of the ground and lost itself among the moss and stones. The other end he placed in his rice field, which was parched and dry. Soon the clear spring water was running from the spring down the channel made by the Bamboo trunk into the dry rice field, bringing refreshment to the drooping, dying plants. So the Bamboo died and brought new life to the master’s rice field. The rice grew tall and strong and brought life to many hungry people."
Posts
