The landscape as a metaphor for context within a story

I have recenlty become interested in the work of Patrick Gedes because it shows the ways in which our environment, whether a rural landscape, or a city dwelling influences our creativity, whether in our manufacturing of technology or in the creation of artistic works. He had a tremendous influence on the development of the city of Edinburgh. The natural features of the city influenced his architectural work as well as his ideas about town planning.

As I was listening to all of this at the Scottish Storytelling Centre in a joint workshop lead by Donald Smith and Bob Pegg it dawned on me that most of my preocupation had so far been on finding techniques to sketch out the macrostructure of stories to the detriment of the context of the story. I resonated very much with the need we have as storytellers to get our audiences to "see" the location where the story takes place. How to use our voice, our gestures and our body language to aid this visualisation is definitely a whole area of inquiry but, and perhaps more poignately, how do we as storytellers work our stories and develop a sense for "seeing" for ourselves, the landscape of our stories?

The physical landscape map
During the workshop we were encouraged to visualise, smell and feel the scenery. We were asked to concentrate on particular elements of the landscape that could have an influence in the visualisation that the audience would have. I found this particular exercise very fruitful, since at the moment I am working on a story from the Aztecs and I needed to visualise the famous city of Tenochtitlan (now Mexico City). I was taken as a child by my grandmother to Zocalo, (the central square, as it was rebuilt by the Spaniards after the fall of Tenochtitlan) however, I had not really thought about how the square would have looked at the time of the Aztecs.

We were then asked to draw a map of the physical landscape of our story. I found that exercise particularly powerful. I realised that a crucial element of my story would have to be a depiction of the central square of Tenochtitlan. Just as crucial would be the canals, circling the city and providing major commercial waterways connecting the city, which was built on an island on a lake, to the mainland.
I also realised that the market was crucial to the story because the smells and sounds of the market should permeate the story.

After I finished my physical map, I could actually see the central square, with the two main pyramids and the surrounding waterways with barges. The drawing of the map, embedded the square in my mind to the point that all I have to do now, is close my eyes and "see" it. I think that I can now tell what I "see" of this once great but destroyed city, to anyone that listens to my story.


The action map
We were then asked to use our physical map, and incorporate within it specific actions or sound elements (i.e. movements, music etc) that might help the audience to visualise the environment of the story. I used this opportunity to develop the idea of using clay flutes and perhaps small percussion instruments to introduce a feeling of mystery and hussle and bussle of the market streets adjacent to the ceremonial square.
I also thought of using scented copal or incense at a specific time within the story to illustrate the significane fo the religious activities being performed at the central square. the action map became a fantastic visual image helping me prepare and "own" my story.

CreditsThe photograph of the clay plaque of Patrick Geddes was taken by Gary Thomson. The photograph of a painting of Tenochtitlan was taken by Steve Cadman. The picture of a small representation of the market was taken by Senor Codo.


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Memory work or Re-inventing the story each time...

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."

The legend of the Potatoe

Following on the post about Burn's night, I am now preparing a story on the legend of the potatoe. I did quite a bit of research and found about 10 websites mostly in Spanish with different legends of the story of the potatoe. Some of the legends take us back to Inca, and Aymara mythology; others, are contemporary stories that show the love that people from Latin America have for this delicious tuber. The story I chose comes from the Andean mythology, but specifically from Bolivia and tells of the way the potatoe was given to their people the Sapallas by their god to help them fight against their enemies, the Caris. The plant is given to Choque, a prince who is defiant of the ruling of the Caris. Choque will eventually become the ruler of the Sapallas and he demonstrates his cunning in his handling the gift that the god Pacha Camac will grant him and his people. There is an interesting twist in the story which makes you become really aware of the edible parts of some plants, and that not all that looks like appetising fruits can be edible by humans! I have translated and adapted the story based on an audio file of the project Todas las Voces. Click on the link to listen to the story of the potatoe in Spanish. This project sponsored by Unesco and the Dutch government is capturing traditional myths and legends from Latin America and making them available in audio files in Spanish. The photograph of this shadowy potatoe was done by Babraindette. The full story translated into English and adapted is now available in the Stories from the Americas. Read and enjoy.

Maps as an organising structure for a story

Well, I am back in the UK after having spent one month in Mexico, and we have started the new session of DigiStory. It was quite hard coming back from the sun into darkness and rain, but the children, and the challenge of preparing materials for 6 new sessions of storytelling soon put back the spring in my step.

Andrea Wollard, my collegue and co-conspirator in DigiStory came up with the brilliant idea of using maps as a natural way to help children structure their story. We soon started researching appropriate maps and got 5 maps of popular characters for the children to chose from. Some of the maps were from well know stories such as Narnia, or Winnie the Pooh and Pokemon. The map of this imaginary world was done by Christing-o. To our amazement the children soon took to the idea of using the maps as a natural way to structure the stories that they are creating. It is early days in our exploration of the use of maps, but this little trial certainly looked promising. I am thinking of making a comparison between storyboarding which has been our tried and tested way of helping the children organise their materials and ideas into an ordered sequence, and maps as an organising structure.

Storytelling as an organisational medium for information

I was a former librarian. Perhaps it is therefore not surprising that something about storytelling immediately captivated my imagination. It was not just the plots, and the characters and the voices and the acting, there is something deeply satisfying in identifying the key characteristics of a story and organising them in your mind without the need to commit each element of the story to our minds. The skeleton of the story is what should be remembered, we can then clothe the story with different minutiae as we go along... in this case, each time we tell a story it is fresh, and slightly different, because our, audiences, our voices, our imagination and our feelings will be different each time. There is real beauty in this, because, in a sense, each storyteller is a little bit like a virtuoso improviser, with an outline to guide the heart and the voice. Dr. Sturm from the University of Carolina at Chapel Hill has researched some of the organisational principles behind storytelling as a mechanism to store and retrieve information to memory and I find his presentation in YouTube fascinating. Dr Sturm is also researching the trance-like state hat people experience when listening to stories. I am particularly interested in this because sometimes, some of the children in the audience can be really captivated and attentive to the sotry unfolding in their imagination, through my voice and actions. His article on trance and storytelling is really fascinating.