Important questions, great discussions: FEST 2024, Glasgow

This year's FEST (Federation for European Storytelling) conference took place in Glasgow, organized by representatives from four nations: Scottish, Irish, English, and Welsh. They created a great program in collaboration, running parallel to The Village Storytelling Festival with all its marvelous events.

Fun fact: this was my 10th FEST conference! I attended in 2009 for the first time. Even more fun than that, we had a whole lot of Hungarian attendees this year. I traveled with my long time friend Kata Orosz (who is a volunteer storyteller from Világszép). In addition, Meseszó was represented by Klitsie-Szabad Boglárka, Hungarian Heritage House by Sándor Ildikó, Holnemvolt (Onceuponatime) Festival by Szabó Enikő, and Világszárnya by Hajós Erika, Zámborszky Eszter, and Bedőházi Beáta. Three of us (Bogi, Enikő and I) even presented workshops. Although I didn't get to see the other two, I heard they were really popular.

I arrived in Glasgow Tuesday evening, missing the first evening's welcome events, but welcomed by friendly storytellers in the lobby of the hotel anyway. It always feels like coming home when I arrive to FEST, seeing friends from all over Europe. 

The conference program itself began Wednesday morning, with welcome speeches and keynote presentations. The organizers introduced themselves and welcomed us officially, then handed the stage over to the keynote speakers. Steve Byrne talked about intangible cultural heritage in Scotland, and the work it took to record and register traditions as such (my favorite quote: "Cultural heritage is not just what we used to have."). Dr. Stephe Harrop talked enthusiastically about creating storytelling spaces in Glasgow, and the work of women storytellers in this process. We also received a warm and friendly welcome presentation from Amadu Wurie Khan, who talked about identity as a "new Scot", as well as finding a place among cultural similarities and differences between Scotland and his native Sierra Leone. At this point, the conference program was running a bit late, but no one minded much - we heard a lot of fascinating things in one morning. During the breaks we were treated to coffee, tea, and pastries in the cafeteria; we even received reusable coffee mugs in the spirit of sustainability.

I chose to attend a fascinating presentation after the break. Peter Chand and Aoife O'Connor promised us "a provocation and a discussion", and that was exactly what they delivered. They dropped some hard truths about diversity (or lack thereof) within FEST and the larger storytelling community. The talk revolved around representation of marginalized identities (by race, nationality, gender, sexuality, ability, language, etc.), and the ways FEST and other storytelling events in Europe could be more inclusive in general - especially to young, upcoming tellers. They also touched on the topic of cultural appropriation, and doing justice to stories from other cultures - from learning to pronounce names all the way to dealing with people from colonizing countries telling stories from the groups they had colonized. The presenters didn't only open up a lot of important questions, but they also allowed time for feedback, discussion, and expressing feelings (even uncomfortable ones). The entire presentation was just the start: whoever wanted could sign up to a mailing list to continue the discussion. It was a very important session, much needed for the European storytelling community - and all the while honest, friendly, and open. The presenters held the space well. I am glad I attended.

After the lunch break there was another selection of workshops. In the first half hour I did my presentation on MythOff and bringing mythology and storytelling to new audiences. I got some great questions at the end. After my time was up, I hurried over to Dougie Mackay's workshop on wolves. This is a topic near and dear to my heart, especially because the reintroduction of wolves to Hungary sparked some debates (not to mention the shooting of a Swiss wolf by a Hungarian hunter recently...). And I love stories where wolves are not evil or dumb. Dougie led a great discussion on wolves, their importance to the environment, and the responsibility of storytellers. He also told us about his adventures tracking wolves in the wild.

I doubled down on environmental storytelling in the next session: after a coffee break I attended Cara Silversmith's workshop on environmental literacy and storytelling. Cara is passionate and enthusiastic about nature, and educating people - through stories - about our relationship with it. We got to touch some leaves and try to guess what tree they came from; we talked about different types of knowledge, and the emotions nature can evoke in us. It turned out the leaves were from an elm tree (and I was a little ashamed that I once wrote a whole article on elm trees in mythology, and yet I did not recognize the leaf). It was a lovely workshop, and great discussion.

After having dinner, we returned to the Centre for Contemporary Arts for the evening shows. Kata and I arrived early, so we got to sit and chat with people in the cafeteria - among them Ronni Gurwicz who runs a really fun podcast series, and also published a book alongside Arjen Barel and Stu Packer (yes I bought it). The evening performance I got to attend was Queens of Albion by Stephe Harrop. She masterfully combined personal stories with the foundation legends of Britain and some Greek mythology. She is a sparkling, humorous storyteller who owned the stage with minimal props - a few rocks, and a shiny jacket that transformed into various things in her hands. It was a stunning performance. I was too tired to stay for the late night shows (toddler mom), but I was happy I made it to that one.

The second full day of the conference also had a lot to offer. I chose the workshop titled Finding Your Voice run by Irish storytellers from the Leprechaun Museum. They had done a project on Erasmus+ funding, reworking traditional stories with LGBT+ youth. We got to go through a shorter version of the workshop they designed, and had great fun with it. We discussed what queer stories do exist in tradition, and what storytellers can do to queer other tales - also, what kinds of heroes and plots we would love to see in stories 100 years from now. We had a great group of people at the workshop, and it was lovely to see folklore research combined so well with creativity.

The second half of the day was Open Space - attendees could suggest topics of discussion, and we gathered in small groups all around the Centre. I joined the table where the topic was "how much can we change myths when we tell them?" We sat in the cafeteria, and we were "violently agreeing" with each other. It was great fun. Sadly, the program was running a bit late, and we soon had to return to the main room to share our thoughts.

All that was left now was to close the conference, and pass the torch on to Paola Balbi - next year we will be in Rome!

We ended the conference with singing, laughter, and gifts - but the day was not over yet. In the evening we had a gala dinner at the National Piping Centre (with some great Scottish music). We heard stories between courses, and after dessert a surprise guest appeared: a Mari Lwyd came dancing, and we all sang and cheered. It was a great way to celebrate us being together. The evening was so lovely that in the end I only said a few goodbyes and slipped out to go sleep. 

Kata and I spent the remaining day on the Isle of Arran, walking the beach, enjoying the sunshine, and visiting the Bodick Castle botanical gardens. It was a gorgeous place to visit, with friendly people. On the morning before we returned to Hungary we also got to browse some bookshops around Glasgow, and have lunch with folklorist Maggie Mackay. We made the most of our time to the last minute.

This was my second time in Scotland, and I was once again enchanted by the place, and by the storytelling community. I am sure I will be back. And next year, I'll see you all in Rome!

Storytellers' Secret Santa 2022

Who wouldn't want to receive a shiny, new, exciting story for the winter holiday of their choice - from a fellow storyteller?

After last year's success, Storytellers' Secret Santa is back this year! :)

Here's the rules:

1. We are sending stories as gifts to each other. You draw another storyteller's name in secret (I'll take care of this), and you send them a story. Someone else sends a story to you. That's it. Joy all around. (No, this is not a chain email!)

2. YOU GIVE A STORY, you get a story. This is important. Secret Santa kinda sucks if your gift never arrives. So, only commit if you are sure you can send your gift out in time! Don't ruin someone else's miracle.

3. Please observe copyright (see below*). This means it is easiest if we mostly work with folktales, or stories in the public domain. Be mindful of cultural appropriation.

4. We are doing this in English. For now. Only do another language if you are sure the person you send your story to shares your native language.

5. With that said, this will be extra fun if the stories are not easily accessible in English! Translating something that most people don't have access to is a very nice gift!

6. In fact, MAKE AN EFFORT. Don't just copy-paste a text from the Internet. Find something rare. Old. Shiny. Not readily available. Do some digging. Make it fun. Share the fun! Give the gift of research.

7. Many of you asked last year if you have to send the story in writing, or whether you can record it in audio/video. This year, I put the question on the form. If the person you are gifting to wants the story in writing, it will be marked for you in the email. Otherwise, all media are ok, dealer's choice!

8. It is assumed that the story you gift to someone is theirs to tell. No strings attached. (Do check with your Santa if you want to publish it in the future, though!)

9. TIMELINE: Sign up on the form below by DECEMBER 1st (midnight, wherever your midnight is). The day after, you will receive an email with the name of the person you are gifting to. Then, you have until DECEMBER 24th THE LATEST to send your story, in an email! Make it nice. Put a bow on it.

10. On the form, you will get the chance to give 3 keywords about what kinds of stories you generally like. This will be a guideline for your Secret Santa, but not a guarantee! Be open to new stories.

11. Keep the stories family friendly, unless explicitly stated in the keywords otherwise.

Are we good? Good.

Here's the form:

https://forms.gle/DckEyUd8wLrW1qeY9 

Please, don't troll this. Just, don't be a troll. Seriously.

* On copyright: In many countries, folktales are not under copyright. However, someone's retelling of a folktale can be. Also, specific translations can be protected by copyright too. It is worth checking the rules in your home country. Look for sources that are in the public domain (also depends on the country, but online archives are a great place to start!). If you work with a folktale, try to find multiple versions, and craft your own telling of it.

You can also craft your own story. But be aware that this is a Secret Santa for storytellers, so no novelettes or literary short stories, please. We are sharing tellable tales. Fairy tales. Fables. Legends. You get the idea.

Storytelling Cities: Return to the Story Marathon

After two weeks of rehearsals we said goodbye to Sigüenza, and on a Thursday we drove over to Guadalajara. We arrived around five in the afternoon, and didn't waste much time lazing around: we left our stuff at the hotel, and immediately headed to the theater for one last rehearsal. The Teatro Moderno is the venue for the featured stage performances during the Marathon; for these, people have to purchase separate tickets, and due to the popularity of the shows, and the 30 year history of the festival, they are almost always sold out.

While in Sigüenza we had a nice 27-28 degree weather the whole time, Guadalajara greeted us with scorching summer heat. The theater was a bit cooler. After rehearsal we headed to the city hall to meet the (very kind and friendly) Mayor, for the signing of the official founding document of the European Network of Storytelling Sites and Towns. It was an exciting, delightful moment.

After the formalities were done, we gathered on the terrace of a restaurant, having a drink before dinner. From there, we could see the open-air exhibit of all the posters of the past 30 Marathons (see the pictures above). This is where I finally felt like I have arrived: after ten years, I was in Guadalajara once again. It made me giddy.

Friday morning we had another rehearsal. Pepito wanted us to rehearse in the afternoon as well, but we gave him the puppy dog eyes until he gave us the rest of the day. At five, we went to the palace courtyard to witness the opening ceremonies. The Marathon was opened by the Mayor himself, who delivered a short speech, and then told a Ukrainian fairy tale. Entirely by heart, like a real storyteller (with the Ukrainian name of the hero written on his palm, just in case, which I think was adorable). It was the perfect opening. He was followed by various school groups on stage, equally lovely.

After a while, with the Marathon up and running, we walked out of the palace to browse books at the marketplace (yes, I bought quite a few). From there, we headed out to have a drink of lemonade, and then moved on to the courtyard of a local school for the evening "Unheard Storytellers" show, where new performers are introduced every year. It was Susana's idea, and it was a good one. Not only because we heard amazing storytellers (among them my personal favorite was Sandra Rossi), but also because most of the Marathon's tellers were in the audience, checking out the newcomers. The mood was friendly and familiar.

(Spanish organizations have left FEST a few years ago, and I have missed them sorely ever since. I loved meeting Spanish tellers at conferences, and I finally got the chance to hang out with them again. Guadalajara, during the Marathon, is home to us all: storytellers are walking the streets, sitting in the cafes, lingering in the doorways, always steeped in excited conversation. I love it.)

Saturday morning we had one very last rehearsal at the theater. After that, I had time to run to the bookstore and buy more books, and then we decided to sit in on the theater shows before our own. They were all full house, and they were totally worth it. My favorite was Eugenia Manzanera's performance, who was witty, funny, and entirely enchanting.

While the last (musical) show was happening on stage, we all moved backstage to get ready. We were excited and a bit nervous - but our performance went really well. The audience was lovely. No one can wish for a better audience than a full house in Guadalajara: they applaud, they cheer, they laugh, they sing along with us, they answer every question. While we were on stage, I kept thinking we should have put more interaction into our show. This would have been the perfect audience to play with.

Our show started at nine in the evening, and we left the theater around eleven, in a very good mood: laughing, singing, accepting many warm congratulations. And this was not the end of the day yet: after a lovely dinner at the library, we headed over to the palace once again, for nighttime storytelling on the Marathon's main stage. For me, this was the hardest part of the festival: I usually go to bed around 10pm. This time, I was on stage, telling in Spanish, at 2am. Now I know I can tell in Spanish even when I am half asleep... But it was worth it. The Guadalajara audience, even after midnight, was cheerful, friendly, and surprisingly alert. I loved playing with them.

After passing out late at night, we only had one last day to go. In the morning we gathered in a conference room in the palace for a round table discussion. The audience was made up of some very sleepy storytellers, but we have a lovely conversation about our experiences, the project, and storytelling in general. This was what closed the festival for us. Those of us who were not heading straight to the airport went back to bed in the afternoon. In the evening, we gathered one last time for dinner, drinks, and conversation.

It was incredible to be in Guadalajara once again, after ten years. It's one of my favorite storytelling festivals in the world. I immersed myself in stories, in the company of fellow storytellers, and the beauty of the Spanish language. I was absolutely privileged to participate in the performance project, and work with a great group of tellers under Pepito's direction. I was proud of the show we got to bring to the stage in Guadalajara. I hope I won't wait another ten years before returning...

The Storytellers' Secret Santa

Who wouldn't want to receive a shiny, new, exciting story for the winter holiday of their choice - from a fellow storyteller?

This winter, I am giving a new idea a try: Secret Santa for storytellers around the globe!

Here's the rules:

1. We are sending stories as gifts to each other. You draw another storyteller's name in secret (I'll take care of this), and you send them a story. Someone else sends a story to you. That's it. Joy all around. (No, this is not a chain email!)

2. YOU GIVE A STORY, you get a story. This is important. Secret Santa kinda sucks if your gift never arrives. So, only commit if you are sure you can send your gift out in time! Don't ruin someone else's miracle.

3. Please observe copyright (see below*). This means it is easiest if we mostly work with folktales, or stories in the public domain. Be mindful of cultural appropriation.

4. We are doing this in English. For now. Only do another language if you are sure the person you send your story to shares your native language.

5. With that said, this will be extra fun if the stories are not easily accessible in English! Translating something that most people don't have access to is a very nice gift!

6. In fact, MAKE AN EFFORT. Don't just copy-paste a text from the Internet. Find something rare. Old. Shiny. Not readily available. Do some digging. Make it fun. Share the fun! Give the gift of research.

7. It is assumed that the story you gift to someone is theirs to tell. No strings attached. (Do check with your Santa if you want to publish it in the future, though!)

8. TIMELINE: Sign up on the form below by DECEMBER 6th (midnight, wherever your midnight is). The day after, you will receive an email with the name of the person you are gifting to. Then, you have until DECEMBER 24th THE LATEST to send your story, in an email! Make it nice. Put a bow on it.

9. On the form, you will get the chance to give 3 keywords about what kinds of stories you generally like. This will be a guideline for your Secret Santa, but not a guarantee! Be open to new stories.

10. Keep the stories family friendly, unless explicitly stated in the keywords otherwise.

Are we good? Good.

Here's the form:

https://forms.gle/4rSuFzXfiknfAvci9

Please, don't troll this. Just, don't be a troll. Seriously.

* On copyright: In many countries, folktales are not under copyright. However, someone's retelling of a folktale can be. Also, specific translations can be protected by copyright too. It is worth checking the rules in your home country. Look for sources that are in the public domain (also depends on the country, but online archives are a great place to start!). If you work with a folktale, try to find multiple versions, and craft your own telling of it.

You can also craft your own story. But be aware that this is a Secret Santa for storytellers, so no novelettes or literary short stories, please. We are sharing tellable tales. Fairy tales. Fables. Legends. You get the idea.

Tales in the Cathedral: Storytelling in Aachen

I already blogged about this year's FEST conference, but I still owed a report from the amazing storytelling event that followed after. I always love it when a gathering of international storytellers is followed by a festival, and this time Regina Sommer and the Haus der Märchen und Geschichten organized a truly special treat: We told stories inside the Aachen Cathedral at night!

We visited the cathedral during the conference that was organized by three different countries. It was my first time seeing it in person, and I was absolutely stunned by how beautiful it is. When we returned for the storytelling event (after a very friendly dinner), I could barely believe that this was going to be our venue for the night. We got a chapel for a green room (best green room ever, see the photo on the right), and they even opened the sacristy for us so that we could use the bathroom... (talk about being behind the scenes). The pre-event mood was cheerful, friendly, and filled with awe, underscored with Davide Bardi tuning his guitar in the chapel.

We were in excellent hands to help us explore: A group of young guides, trained by art historian Wirtz Ágnes (incidentally also the founder of the Világszép Foundation, the NGO I work for) when they were children, returned for the evening to offer special tours to visitors, telling us about the history and secrets of the cathedral. We got to see Charlemagne's throne built from stone slabs brought from Jerusalem, and also his golden sarcophagus. While we were on stage, the latter was visible behind us, and if we looked up over the audience, we could see the empty throne facing us from the first floor gallery. It was thrilling to imagine that someone that famous was listening to our stories... along with about three hundred people in the audience, who filled up all the seats. We had a full house... or rather, a full cathedral.

Storytellers were invited to represent carious cultures and traditions that had a connection to Charlemagne, the cathedral, the school he founded there, and the Carolingian renaissance era. For example, I was there because the cathedral has a Hungarian chapel, built in the 14th century; it has been an important place of pilgrimage ever since. Everyone told one story, and in-between performances we got to hear enchanting organ and saxophone music that filled the entire space, and transported us through time and space. The story I brought was a Hungarian legend from the time of the Mongolian invasion - it tells about how refugees were helped across the Danube by Fairy Queen Tündér Ilona, and the magician Göncöl táltos, who gave up their own powers for 777 years for them. This story holds a special significance this year, because the Mongolian invasion ended 777 years ago. I could hear the audience gasp when I told them that. It was an unforgettable moment. I was a little worried before for bringing such a pagan story into a cathedral, but since the event was opened by George Macpherson doing an ancient Celtic invocation, we both agreed that we would be fine. The Dom handled our stories well.

The other performances were all captivating, and although I could not follow the ones in German very well, I still enjoyed them. Davide Bardi and Paola Balbi brought us their incredible telling of Jesus' death and return from the points of view of Mary Magdalene and Peter. Michaela Sauber told us about Parsifal, Nuala Hayes brought us the Children of Lir, Gidon Horowitz the legend of the first temple in Jerusalem, Sam Cannarozzi legends of alchemy, Raymond den Boestert a tale of Till Uilenspiegel, and Abbi Patrix a creation myth from Africa about the spirit of creativity. Wirtz Ágnes and the young guides told us a story about Aachen together.

The whole evening was an amazing experience that connected people across time, space, and cultures, and I was incredibly honored to be a part of it. I wondered if the people building the Hungarian chapel centuries ago would have ever thought one day a Hungarian storyteller would visit, and talk about magicians and fairies under the arches...

Tricky Borders: FEST Storytelling Conference, 2019.

"Tricky Borders" - this was the title given to the 2019 FEST storytelling conference by the organizers, who represented three countries together: Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands. The conference this year took place in the Euregio, where the borders of those three countries meet. Our headquarters was on the Netherlands side in Rolduc Abbey, and we took short trips to Aachen and the Belgian countryside. No wonder that in a place like this our main focus this year was borders - and tricksters who tend to cross them.

The day of arrival was mostly spent by talking, meeting new people, and greeting old friends (while consuming lots of cold drinks in the scorching heat). I was happy to see George Macpherson again - I met him at my first FEST conference in Lausanne in 2009, and I have read all of his books. Next to old friends I also made some new acquaintances from exciting places such as Luxembourg, Lithuania, and the Leprechaun Museum in Dublin (it was their first time at FEST, and I was happy to see them, as I am a big fan of their storytelling work).
On the first full day of the conference we had an all-day General Assembly which was smooth and well organized. We voted on the site of the 2022 conference (hello, Vilnius!) and a new Executive Committee member (hello, Agnieszka Aysen Kaim from Poland!), learned about the current and future storytelling projects FEST is supporting, and got a glimpse of the storytelling competency system that is being developed (more about that later). In the evening there was a performance titled Nowhere Lane, by Belgian storyteller Joe Boele who told stories about the life of Roma communities in the mid-20th century. The show was based on a book written by another white person who traveled with the Roma, and it was a well constructed performance, although there were some parts of it that made me feel uncomfortable about the authenticity of presenting these stories twice removed from the original source.

On the second morning of the conference we took a bus to a modern art museum in Aachen, where we spent the morning with lectures on the intersection of science and storytelling. George Macpherson told us a legend about Dian Cécht and related it to modern medicine; Giovanna Conforto talked about the importance of storytelling in science communication; Dr. Anke Groß-Kunkel from the University of Cologne introduced us to a fascinating multisensory storytelling project for people living with Profound Intellectual Multiple Disabilities. Over lunch break we wandered around downtown, visited the Aachen cathedral, ate ice cream, and talked, and then we got back on the bus and went on a short tour around three countries. We briefly ventured into Belgium, circled back to the Netherlands, got off the bus, walked across to Germany (visiting Charlemagne's huntingchapel on the way), then got back on the bus, and returned to Rolduc Abbey chased by a thunderstorm. It was a lovely trip, peppered by frequent text messages from my cellphone service provider, pinging "Welcome to Belgium/Germany/Netherlands" every few minutes... 

Friday afternoon was filled with various workshops and talks. I went to George Macpherson's "Traditional storytelling" session where he told us stories and we listened in awe, and occasionally asked questions. After that I migrated over to Sam Cannarozzi's "Science and Storytelling" talk, which was a delightful surprise: Sam decorated the whole room (including himself) with various versions of the periodic table. When we entered, everyone got assigned an element (by dice or by cards; I got Phosphorus), and Sam told us interesting facts and stories about each of them. We hunted for mythology references in the table together, and learned a lot about the history and discovery of many of the elements, from alchemists to chemists. Lots of fun!
The Friday evening presentation was brought to us by Chris Adriaanse, a storyteller and linguist from the UK, who told us about the various trickster-tools Trump and his campaign apply to manipulate people. The talk was peppered by trickster stories about Tyl Uilenspiegel (by Regina Sommer and Tom van Outryve), and sparked intense conversations among storytellers about whether or not Trump qualifies as a trickster. For the record, in my opinion, HE DOES NOT.

Saturday was another day full of workshops. In the morning I joined Regina Sommer's "The Tricksters of Tomorrow" circle, where we spent three hours brainstorming about what makes a trickster, what tools tricksters have in the modern world, and what role tricksters can/will play in social and historical change in the present and future. We came up with some fascinating ideas and systems, and we even considered organizing a trickster-themed gathering to work on them more.
In the afternoon, instead of going to workshops, I participated in creating videos for FEST's new storytelling competency system. The plan was introduced to us at the General Assembly by Veva Gerard. It is a great idea for organizing and outlining what competencies play an important part in training storytellers, and is detailed and organized enough to be the basis of accrediting storytelling programs in the EU. It contains competencies grouped by aspects of a storyteller's work such as Artist, Performer, Researcher, Team Player, etc. It is still in its testing phase, but it is flexible enough to be useful, color-coded, and the creators even brought us some games so that we could test and discuss it. In addition, they set up a studio to record short video snippets of storytellers talking about the importance of various competencies. I recorded three of them, and while I was waiting for my turn, I played around with the colorful little cards outside the door. The idea was to pick my eight most important competencies out of forty, and see what colors (themes) they represent. Here is my "storytelling fingerprint":

Purple: researcher, Blue: craftsman, Orange: team player,
Green: artist, Yellow: performer

I also shuffled them around and picked the eight competencies I personally deemed most important to teach to beginning storytellers. Here is my "teaching fingerprint":

Grey: entrepreneur

The system is still being tested and refined (they just put Tradition Bearer back into it, after some convincing from Irish, French, and, er, Hungarian participants), but I think it is a great system and a very useful idea. Congratulations to the developers!

All that was left for Saturday evening was the closing ceremony. First, we got to witness the performance of the people who participated in the mixed reality storytelling workshop. It was great fun to watch them tell stories and use virtual reality technology to illustrate them. After the show, the organizers of this year's conference handed the torch over to the Turkish delegates, who will host us next year. The evening concluded with a surprise: Paola Balbi, accompanied by a jazz musician, presented us an excerpt of a historical storytelling show about early feminism in Northern Italy. Paola is a storytelling powerhouse, and despite the late hour, her performance was utterly captivating.

Of course FEST conferences (like all storytelling gatherings) are a lot more than just workshops and presentations. In-between sessions there was a lat of talking, laughter, dancing, singing, debating, getting to know each other, and solving the great philosophical questions of our time (usually with beer). It was a fun, well organized, informative conference - in three countries at once.

We shall meet again next year in Turkey!

"New trad" storytelling as inclusion: Danielle Bellone visits Budapest

I have mentioned my dear Danielle Bellone on this blog before multiple times - she even guest blogged here once. I met her in the ETSU Storytelling program, where she wrote her thesis on "new trad" (new traditional) storytelling. She has been doing performances and teaching workshops on the topic ever since, and this year, we finally found a way to invite her to Hungary! Her trip was supported by the US Embassy in Budapest, and her events were an official part of the 2018 programming of Budapest Pride. Next to the Pride programs, the embassy also took her as guest speaker to other venues (such as a girls' leadership camp). It had been a long time dream of mine to bring Danielle, and her unique style of storytelling, to Hungary, and it was amazing to see it become reality.

Danielle presented her workshop at the 2018 FEST conference in Ljubljana (I blogged about this earlier), and then spent a week in Budapest, full of events and adventures. On the 4th of July she performed her one-hour storytelling show titled Pulse and Other Queer Heartbeats on a theater stage, as part of the Pride event series. It was a gorgeous, gorgeous performance. She told "new trad" tales like Soli and Panna (a creation myth featuring two goddesses) and Omar and Wendell (a tale about a hero who has to battle anxiety before he battles the dragon); re-told traditional stories such as a poetic Cinderella, a tragic Daphne and Aeola, and a beautiful, vivid Lindworm; she sang, she soared, she enchanted us all. I have heard these stories many times before, but I can't get enough of them. I love Danielle's eloquence, and the care she has for choosing the right words to paint the most colorful images in the listener's mind. Hungarian audiences were lucky to get to hear her.

On Saturday (incidentally, the morning of the Budapest Pride parade) Danielle presented a three-hour workshop for people who were interested in delving deeper into "new trad" storytelling. Just to recap: "New trad" stories are built from the elements of traditional stories (motifs, tropes, symbols, structures of folktales and myths), created for oral telling, passed along freely into the public domain, and they usually fill gaps in tradition that older folktales did not talk about. Apart from the obvious (LGBTQ+ identities and experiences), participants in the workshop had a whole lot of other ideas as well, about what gaps we should address; the list grew long, and contained topics such as "female friendship," "older heroes," "alternative family models," and "climate change." We also discussed the concepts of cultural appropriation, representation, and the fact that folktales have many layers, and why representation of diverse characters is important even though on deeper psychological levels tales operate as symbols of the self.
In the last hour of the workshop participants could begin working on their own "new trad" stories in pairs. I have taken Danielle's workshop before, and it never ceases to amaze me how many great tales can be born in such a short time, and how easily, naturally people settle into making up stories. The results, once again, were marvelous. There was a tale about an old woman and a middle princess ending a magical drought together by descending into the Underworld; two princesses kidnapped by a dragon who rescued themselves together; a squirrel who wanted to be human, but did not want to choose between being a man or a woman; and even a hedgehog mother, locked into a dark den with her nuclear family, who found a way into the sunshine, and the supportive friendship of other mothers. We even made a lovely story about Pride - I'm sure you'll hear more about that one eventually...

Both events had a moderate audience, but a whole lot of overwhelming enthusiasm from those who did show up. I was extremely happy to begin spreading the word about "new trad" storytelling, and starting conversations among Hungarian tellers about how tradition can live on and change, while still honoring the stories of old. The week flew by in a flurry of excitement, adventures, and stories. I hope everyone else also had a lovely Pride month!

MythOff London: Women Who Gave No F*cks

***Adult content***

It all started on Twitter. Clare Murphy shared some article about medieval women who Gave No Fucks, and we started talking about how fun a title that would be for an all-female MythOff event. We (Clare and I) had MythOffs in London, Hungary, and the USA before, but never on the same stage. It was high time to fix that.
Other storytellers immediately jumped on the idea; it didn't take long to assemble our little team of six scandalous women who were willing to give zero fucks in public. Since two of them also happened to be the hosts of Story Jam, we even found a venue at the Canada Water Theatre. Twitter dream became reality.
Since I was in the neighborhood (performing in Dublin for World Storytelling Day), I went out of my way to join in the fun.
Here is what went down.

Our evening was hosted by the marvelous Judith Faultless with great energy and enthusiasm. She did not only introduce us, but also came up with the prizes, and made sure the audience was all fired up and ready for the stories. She even brought a plastic lightsaber so that an audience member could act as a clap-o-meter: Each round was won by the story that received the loudest applause. The six tellers were split into two teams: the Burning Bushes (Clare, Debs, and Lucy), and the Mighty Muffs (Alys, Rachel, and me). Best two out of three won the evening.

Round one: Wrecking ball 

The first round featured two formidable goddesses pitted against each other. First, Clare Murphy invoked the Ugaritian goddess Anat, lover of Baal, who, once her lover had been devoured by the god of death, took it up on herself to kill, dismember, chop up, grind down, burn, and scatter Death. The story ended with the resurrection of Baal, and a very stormy sex scene. Clare carried the whole myth with such power that I did not even dare to use my camera...

From our side Rachel Rose Reid rose to the challenge. She brought the legend of Lilith from the Hebrew tradition. Lilith was Adam's first wife, created from earth like him, who invented pleasure and sex. When Adam wanted to treat her as submissive, she left him for an angel - so the whole creation had to be rebooted, and Adam got a new wife, Eve. At the end of the legend, Lilith managed to give some friendly advice to Eve as well. Rachel's telling was funny, lively, and spicy; she made fun with abandon about Adam's feeling of superiority (and the missionary position).
The prize: A plastic rabbit with a broken ear (symbol of fertility and also wrecked things)
The winner: Lilith

Round two: It's not what you have, it's how you use it

We did not plan it this way (we all picked our own myths), but the stories in round two fit together perfectly. First, Alys Torrance brought us a shift in the mood. She told us the heart-wrenching story of Demeter seeking Persephone, about grief and pain and the indifference and cruelty of the male gods, until Demeter gave up her will to go on. At this point, Baubo enters the scene. She is the strange little goddess of sexuality and dirt, with eyes for nipples and her vulva for a mouth, and she tells enough dirty jokes that Demeter finally laughs out loud. Alys' graceful and lovely telling brought us from a heavy heart all the way to storm-like laughter. There is deep wisdom in humor (and flashing people).

From the other team we had Lucy Lill, energetic and lovable, and very pregnant, telling the myth of Amaterasu, the Japanese sun-goddess. In this story, the goddess is offended by her little brother, and hides her light from the world. Ame-no-Uzume, goddess of mirth, amuses the gods by dancing a very saucy dance, showing off her boobs and butt and finally dancing around naked with a rooster in her hands, until Amaterasu peeks out to see what all the laughter is about. Lucy's telling of the story was appropriately lively, funny, and endearing, with some very groovy dance moves.
The prize: A plastic owl (because wisdom?... or maybe eyes large in surprise)
The winner: Ame-no-Uzume

Round three: When women become myth

The third and last round of the evening was the tiebreaker. First, Debs Newbold told the true story of Grace O'Malley, fearsome Irish pirate queen of the 16th century, from her wild childhood all the way to the point where, just after the birth of her son, she went on deck of her own ship, blood dripping down her leg, to help her men fight the English. The highlight of the story was the legendary meeting between Elizabeth I and Grace. Debs is a wild woman with wild hair and a wild voice, and she put all the power into the story that it required. She was fierce!

I told the last story of the evening. I spent a lot of time thinking what legend or myth I could bring from my part of the world that fit the criteria of women giving no fucks. Finally, I landed on the legend of Puskás Klári, a Transylvanian Székely woman from the 17th century. According to legend, when the Tatars attacked her village she defended the bridge across the mill stream alone, and used various household instruments to kill seven Tatar warriors (the chief among them) - before going home and giving birth to triplets. Because she did all the killing while heavily pregnant. It was great fun describing all the fight scenes with the various improvised weapons, and the banter between Klári and her opponents. Definitely a no-fucks-given story, and the audience loved it!
The prize: A Little Mix calendar (someone explained to me who they are)
The winner: Grace O'Malley

Since the Burning Bushes won two rounds out of three, they also received the team prize for the evening: A beautiful shiny red feather that promptly covered everything in glitter. But more importantly, by my count we had more than a hundred people in the audience! And a very lively, interactive, enthusiastic audience too. I'd like to thank all of them for making our evening epic.

We came, we saw, we won, we gave ZERO FUCKS. Until next time, ladies!

Epic-Lovers Reunite!

At the end of my one-year mentorship with Cathryn Fairlee, we celebrated with a storytelling concert showcasing some of our favorite epics. It was almost exactly a year ago. Last November, I got to premiere my one-hour show based on the Persian Book of Kings - but little did the audience know at the time that Cathryn helped me work on not one, but two epics over the course of one year, and the other fringe performance was yet to come. We scheduled the Epic-Lovers Reunite! house concert for the day after Epic Day, and I was both excited and grateful that I got to share the stage with my mentor once again. We had a completely full house: 50 people bought tickets for the show!

If you have been following this blog, you probably noticed how much I posted about my research on the Dietrich Cycle. The full-hour storytelling show born from all that work is titled Roses in the Mountains: German legends of Dwarves and Men, and this was the very first time I told it all in one swoop. It was an intense, but very rewarding experience.
The show is made up of two of the prominent legends about Dietrich and his knights. The first part is the legend of Virginal, Queen of the Mountains, and her war against the evil sorcerer Ortgis. She summons the human heroes as her allies (since, according to the Book of Heroes I quote at the beginning of the show, humans were created by God to protect the Dwarf kingdoms from giants and dragons). At first, Dietrich and his men try to take care of the threat themselves, but they fail miserably, and the whole story ends in an all-out epic battle between the forces of darkness and the allies of the Dwarf queen. Dietrich marries Virginal, who proves herself to be a wise ruler. I really enjoyed telling about all the fights and monsters, and the kids in the audience listened with wide-open eyes.

The second half of the story mirrors the first in many ways. It is the story known as the Small Rose Garden, the tale of the Dwarf King Laurin who allegedly abducts a human maiden. Dietrich and his men travel to Laurin's legendary rose garden in the mountains, trespass on his property, and effectively manage to start a war between Dwarves and humans. What saves the day in the end is the love of the maiden, Künhilde, for the Dwarf king, and her joining forces with Virginal to set things right. Yes, this story passes the Bechdel Test.
The story came together beautifully in the end. It is a fast-paced tale with a lot of intense fight scenes - but it also has humor in all the right places to break up the tension, and the audience responded well to those scenes. I added a couple of sorter Dietrich tales to round out the narrative (such as the story of the rose garden itself from a Swiss legend, or the scene where they drag a knight out of a dragon's mouth). I also tweaked the tales a little to give more play time to the women. The Dietrich Cycle does have several powerful women in it, so the changes did not feel out of place at all.

The second half of the house concert was the best reward I could have hoped for after such an exhausting performance: Cathryn told some of the legends of the Fianna. She knows that I live and die for Fionn Mac Cumhail, and as I curled up on a pillow in the corner with my well-deserved dinner, she told several of my favorite tales - and even one that I have not hear before! It was equally amazing to watch her, and to see the audience's reactions. Many of the heard the Burning of Tara, or the Birth of Oisín for the first time, and I was happy to see that the stories had the same effect on them as they did on me almost twenty years ago.

Epic-Lovers Reunite was definitely a success. I hope that I will get to tell with Cathyrn again (at the next Epic Day at the latest), and I also hope that I will get to take Roses in the Mountains to many other stages around the world. These stories deserve to be told...
(King Laurin's story is included in my book of tales about superhuman powers)

A better way out: "New trad" storytelling workshop by Danielle Bellone

A year ago I hosted Danielle Bellone as a guest blogger, and she wrote a marvelous post about "new trad" storytelling. She is a dear friend of mine, and a former classmate from the ETSU Storytelling MA program. This year, the BGSU LGBT Resource Center featured her as a performer during Coming Out Weeks, and she brought her "new trad" tales and workshops to our campus. It was an amazing experience, and a perfect addition to the program. I took the workshop twice, and you can all be jealous of me now.

Danielle presented her workshop, "After happily: Using 'new trad' stories for celebrating diversity", twice this week - once for the LGBT+ community, and one for the general public. We talked about what makes storytelling important (since the participants were non-storytellers), and then discussed problems of cultural appropriation with traditional tales, as well as topics that are usually missing from folklore. Beyond LGBT+ representation, people also suggested topics such as male-female friendships, diverse body types, differently abled heroes, miscarriage, the Internet, and even student loan debt. Danielle then introduced to us the idea of "new trad" stories - tales that are made up, using symbols and tropes from traditional tales, to fill in these gaps in the oral tradition (see her post, linked above, for details). Her presentation was concise, on point, and very inspiring, not to mention spiced with a lot of humor and genuine conversation. Once we were armed with our newfound knowledge of "new trad", she allowed us to break out into smaller groups, pick a topic, and start crafting a tale. I was amazed at the ideas people came up with; everyone was bustling with creative energy, and instinctively reaching back to folklore to pick motifs and symbols to use. We left both workshops with the bones of stories I truly want to develop into performance. People were inspired and bubbly as they walked out.
(I am especially fond of our idea of telling the sad tale of student loan debt through the story of a school of magic, where students pay for spells by turning into statues for extended periods of time, serving as cup holders and balcony columns for wealthy wizards... until something terrible happens, and they are all needed to protect the kingdom).

Apart from the two workshops, as an illustration of "new trad" work, Danielle also brought us a performance titled "A better way out: An evening of queer storytelling." Every time I hear her, I am amazed at her artistic range: She weaves song, slam poetry, adaptations of traditional myths and folktales, and "new trad" stories, into a wonderful set that is full of color, and wonder, and her endless love for the flavor of words. My great favorite of the set was the "new trad" myth of Soli and Panna, two women in love creating the Universe. She used it as an example in the workshop, so I got to hear it three times in two days, and each time I found new gems in the way she worded it, and each time I loved it more. Danielle is the kind of person who, when listing animals in Creation, uses words like "pangolin" and "limpet" and "sugar glider" instead of plain old "tigers and elephants." Her prose is poetry, and her poetry is lively storytelling.

"New trad" storytelling is an emerging genre, and it is vital for oral tradition to keep moving forward. Danielle Bellone is blazing a trail with her work. Pay attention. Follow along. Be inspired.