Back to Jonesborough

I went to the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee this year for the first time since 2008. I started going to the festival in 1989. I think I've been eight times now--I'm jealous of my storytelling friends who go every year. I went late this year, traveling with my friend Joyce Slater on Friday instead of Thursday. We had a 6:00 a.m. flight from Kansas City (I almost wrote "plight" and that wasn't too far off). Though that meant getting up at 3:45 a.m., we arrived in Tennessee at noon and got to the festival in time to get lunch and listen to stories.

I'm not going to write here about the ongoing political issues with the festival, the town and the storytelling organizations, so if you expect me to dish some dirt, you'll have to look elsewhere for mudpies.

Of course I go to the festival to hear great stories, but I also go to see my "tribe," other storytellers. It's a place where we don't have to explain what it is we do, or why. I always come home refreshed.

There were five tents this year. I think each holds about 1800-2000 people. As always, some of the sets were olios, an old vaudeville term for sessions that offer several storytellers one after another. Some were solo performances and some were shared sets with two storytellers.

The Library Tent from the outside

The Library Tent from the inside

I had some favorite storytellers this year, as I always do. Though I am not a costume-wearing storyteller myself, I thoroughly enjoyed Dolores Hydock's Eglamore and Cristobel, in which she is the Medieval narrator: 

I also heard her tell more contemporary stories in a couple of other sets without costume and it was just as compelling. 

Speaking of compelling, Clare Muireann Murphy was also fabulous. She's from Ireland, which doesn't mean she only tells Irish stories (I was reminded of my friend Synia who made the point that though she's African-American, she didn't want to be hemmed into only telling African and African-American stories). Here's one Clare told:

 

And of course, my friend Megan Hicks was wonderful. She was a "New Voice," the designation the festival gives for tellers who are new to the main stage--some "New Voices" have been telling for decades. Megan's telling was strong and true. I saw her get three standing ovations! Yay! This video isn't a story I heard her tell, and of course in Jonesborough she was on the main stage, not in a place where a cat might walk behind her (I love that!), but this shows one of her styles, a fractured fairy tale: 

I say one of her styles, because she also told a historical tale and traditional tales that were not fractured. 

There were many other amazing storytellers there: Willy Claflin, Bill Harley, Donald Davis, Lyn Ford, Gene Tagaban, Elizabeth Ellis and others. I went to the Exchange Place, the regional showcase (I was in this in 2001) and joined in the cheering on of these storytellers who may one day be on the main stage. We all missed the venerable Kathryn Tucker Windham, who died earlier this year. We all wondered if we'd be back next year for the 40th anniversary of this festival.

Doc McConnell, RIP

(photo by Tom Raymond, Fresh Air Photographics)

Storyteller Doc McConnell died yesterday, August 16. He was one of the old guard, an Appalachian storyteller who was an integral part of the storytelling revival.

He performed last Saturday night at the National Storytelling Conference. This was the first time I ever witnessed a standing ovation before and after a performance. Doc had been sick, but he walked without assistance onto the stage and perched on a stool. His story was strong and funny, perfect in Doc's tongue-in-cheek style.

I think the first time I ever saw Doc was in Jonesborough in the early 90s, where he performed his old-time medicine show. His storytelling fame took him all over, from the National Storytelling Festival to the Tonight Show to Hee Haw (!). I didn't know Doc well, but often found myself in conversation with him at the conferences. He'll be missed.

Back home from Jonesborough

Whew, what a festival! I met my friend Margaret Meyers for supper at Dogwood Lane just after pulling in to town. After fortifying ourselves with Greek salad and good conversation, we went on to the National Story Night performance (Willy Claflin was a hoot, as always). We began to see old friends as we arrived. The tribe was gathering. Some were performing, some were emceeing, some were like me, just along for the ride.

And what a ride it was. There were lots of "New Voices" this year (they're new to the National Storytelling Festival, not to storytelling). Some of my favorites:

Motoko, who is Japanese but now lives in Massachusetts, tells polished gems of stories with a delightful simplicity. I was reminded of that phrase about how yoga should be "effortless effort." Motoko's mix of story and mime was exactly that.

Gene Tagaban refers to himself as "one crazy raven," and how true that is. He's Tlingit, Cherokee and Filipino. His stories were a mix of personal narrative and traditional story, and at the end of one of his sets, he donned his regalia and treated us to a raven dance. The cadence of his speech reminded me of a student from Haskell Indian Nations University who attended a workshop I gave a couple of weeks ago. I think he was also Tlingit. I mentioned this to Gene who told me he also went to Haskell.

I wish I'd gotten to hear more from Dolores Hydock. I went to her performance of "Silence: A Medieval Adventure in Story and Song," which she performed with the Medieval music troupe PanHarmonium. She comes from a theater background, so this long traditional story was told in costume and with an English accent, but neither impeded the story. The tent was full (1000 people or more?) and she got a well-deserved standing ovation. It was fabulous to see how hungry people are for long traditional stories.

I also got to hear some of the "Old Guard" of storytelling. It was a pleasure, as always, to hear Bill Harley, Jay O'Callahan, Donald Davis, Kathryn Windham--she's 89, I think! I went to the Exchange Place, the regional stage where each performer gets about 12 minutes (I performed here in 2001). Some of those performers will definitely be back on the main stage, I'm sure.

And then there was the general hanging around. I got to see my New England story buddies, old friends from Going Deep and WOW weekends, Midwestern friends, folks I've known from countless conferences and festivals. It felt like a large family reunion.

At lunch on Sunday, I was seated with three bewildered ladies from North Carolina who didn't know there was a storytelling festival going on in Jonesborough. They had just come over for a day of antiquing. As we sat in the din of the restaurant, I explained that a gathering of storytellers is rarely quiet, except during performances. I told them about the story magic in the tents. I don't know if they dared stop to listen to stories. If they did, I bet they'll come back next year.