Well, we live and breath, so now's our chance to prove just how opinionated we can be.
And what's much more scary, here's your chance to comment on how opinionated we are.
Although not quite sure what blogs are Ali & Dez have agreed to keep you posted with their Mythstories' musings.
There’s been a deafening silence surrounding The Contenders – before and after the event. It’s the kind of silence that falls when maiden aunts tacitly decide not to notice what the teenagers are up to, when members of the establishment close ranks. It’s the silence that says ‘I don’t want to be the one that rocks the boat’.
Why wasn’t the news that the Arts Foundation had decided to give a storyteller a £10,000 bursary greeted loudly with joy by everyone connected with storytelling? Why did the people consulted by the Arts Foundation keep quiet about the process? Why aren’t the names of the nominators in the common domain? Surely, if we are part of a healthy artform there should have been a loud and healthy debate every step of the way? Instead people have kept their opinions to themselves, with the exception of a few thinly disguised mutterings which translate as ‘and why wasn’t I involved in this?’
For storytelling to progress it has to leave the comfy argument of fireside v. performance; the petty jealousies of ‘how can I make a living when there’s all these people with a second income undercutting my rate’. It has to move into the area of honest, open, artistic criticism and debate. If storytellers can do that and maintain their much-vaunted ethos of mutual respect and support, it will be a first for any artform.
I only hope I have misheard the deafening silence and it’s not fear of the unknown that stills our tongues, but a timely reflection on how we can and should move forward.
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I read for pleasure, in a perverse kind of way. I go into my local library, choose two bookshelves at random and from them select the four books whose titles or jacket covers appear most interesting. My theory is that it broadens my perspectives, and sometimes it works.
My current library book came from a shelf labelled ‘Travel’ and is called ‘Sitting Up With The Dead’ by Pamela Petro. It was the book’s title that appealed to me – what has travel to do with dead people? The book tells of four holidays spent driving through the Southern United States, meeting up with storytellers and the author muses on the stories they told and how and why they told them. It has some interesting thoughts, like this one:
‘It occurred to me …. that storytelling itself can sometimes be a way of narrowing experience, of not hearing. To tell (and tell and tell and tell) is not to listen. The barrage of tales the night before had effectively kept me and my disruptive, feminist opinions at bay; I don’t think that shutting me up was his (the storyteller’s) intent; but it had that effect. Like violence, which strips stories from the landscape or buries them with its victims, storytelling can occasionally be a reactionary device, a reflex of the fearful that may be wielded like a defensive – and now and then a deadly – weapon.’
What really interested me was that she had been totally entertained when hearing the stories; it was only on reflection that her experience had become less than satisfying.
And in case you are wondering, my other books were ‘Easy Eco-Auditing’, ‘The Search for the Identity of Body 115’ and ‘Hubbub – noise, filth and stench in England’. They came from the shelf labelled ‘Languages’. I think the librarian had had a bad day.
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Is there such a thing as a wet weather attraction any more? Or do people wake up, see the rain and decide to watch a dvd, play a computer game, trawl the internet, or maybe just muse on a blog. I suppose some people might just go right back to bed with a good book.
They might however visit the museum if they're already outside the front door and getting wet.
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We've retained editorial control here - if it's printable we'll post it next day
Comment from Pat received 23.09.2008
Wet weather activities for me are just that - out in it getting wet. I've camped seven times in the last 18 months and got soaked at all but one [and you were there at THAT one.] I love rain, I enjoy cold. We have today just tipped the year towards "my time".
As a child I remember a Llandudno show that was played out in Happy Valley but "in town hall if wet" My memory is of course golden sunshine.
