Friends,
This Autumnal missive is late as is autumn itself. Summer is reluctant to leave, and though the light continues to slip away, here in Minnesota the heat remains. One warm day after another with thunderstorms as exclamation points. It makes for some spectacular sunsets, or more accurately, pastel reflections of sunsets on the towering cloud banks scudding east with curtains of rain lashing the landscape beneath them. Perhaps this lag is a manifestation of climate collapse and a glimpse of the future.
September has been a mix. Three poetry performances (St. Paul, Mankato, Grand Marais with a full Harvest moon), stage time and a master class at a sweet storytelling festival in Spring Grove (IL), a three-session on-line class with students from as far away as Houston and Vancouver Island (BC) which I am repeating in-person for local folks at the American School of Storytelling’s 1762 Hennepin space. Multiple somethings every week and in between there is always writing to be done – poems, stories, social media posts, proposals for workshops and performances at conferences in 2025.
In August, The Christine and I celebrated the one-year anniversary of the School in the Hennepin Ave space. It is still being discovered by folks who are surprised at how intimate and funky it is when they come for their first performance – Sufian Zhemakhov, the third Monday storytelling or fourth Monday poetry open mics, Jim Stowell – and that makes me proud of the work we are putting into this project. Come once, sign up for the newsletter, come back again, take a class, get on stage… Our intention is to build a welcoming community and a diverse calendar of offerings.
But there are times when I feel like we are “married” to the School and not able to attend other performances, to support other venues, because the fact is whether we produce an event or someone rents 1762, there is no staff other than the two of us to open the doors, clean the space, welcome the audience, and lock it up at the end of the night. During the pandemic when I was thinking about what I wanted to do in my so-called retirement, the idea of the School as a locus and legacy was easy to visualize. The amount of time it would occupy was not. But here we are committed to another year, seeing what can support the “oral” arts and be supported by artists and audience alike.
If I think about it, this fits with my history of starting projects in response to artistic need or opportunity that will ultimately find a path, a life, of their own.
1978 – I created Artspace Developers with Michael Skindrud and Kris Nelson to provide artist live/work housing. It is still functioning and has been called the “800-pound gorilla” of arts development with projects across the United States.
1982 – I did the incorporation of the five state Northlands Storytelling Network in support of storytelling and storytellers which provided annual conferences and even grants to support storytelling projects. It served the storytelling community for many years and while the decision to call it quits was difficult, it was an acknowledgement that times, need, and capacity change.
1983 – On the “Circle of Water Circus” tour Kevin Kling, Michael Sommers and I begin 25 years of performances as Bad Jazz offering music, storytelling, toy theater and bad tap dancing. We began playing for “the fun of it” and gave it up when our individual schedules made it extremely difficult (if not impossible) to find time to build and perform together.
1992 – Two Chairs Telling starts at the Jungle Theater and finishes 25 years later at the Bryant Lake Bowl Cabaret, though I still offer a version on request at conferences and festivals.
2002 – I assisted in creating the Northstar Storytelling League, which became Story Arts Minnesota and has produced both Tellabration! and Storyfest and looks to expand storytelling engagement and performance throughout Minnesota. Currently this is the only Board of Directors I sit on and am happy to note at the recent annual meeting six new (and young) folks joined the Board and can take SAM forward.
2010 – Working with Barb Schutzgruber and Mary Hamilton, I brought Fringe performances to the the National Storytelling Network conferences. Fourteen years later, they are still part of the conference vibe.
2020 – With The Christine, I start on-line class offerings and in-person workshops for the American School of Storytelling, followed in 2023 by the finding the 1762 Hennepin Avenue space.
Make of it what you will – I’ve said that I like the puzzle of work. The criticism might be that I’m good at beginnings but don’t stay the course. When I get bored, or burnt out, or see that someone else can better serve the development or the management of a project, I move on to the next possibility. The positive articulation is that my interests are in finding potential solutions to interesting problems. The history is what it is.
Am I in the autumn of my years? There is a lot of lived material I have not written or told yet…. Are the days of touring over? Is the School reason enough to “slow down”? I remember being on stage with Kathryn Tucker Windham several times, when she announced that she was “retiring” and that this was going to be her last Festival, only to find I was sharing a stage with her a year later. Well, they asked was her response to why she was still at it. Sure, that’s a model I can embrace. I’m done but if you ask me, I’ll be there.
The Equinox has passed. Fall is coming. The turning of the leaves, the harvesting of the fruit, the stacking of the wood for the fireplace. I wish you well in this season of transition.
Comments