Fairs and festivals

For the past week, when I get into my car, I'm reminded of where I've been. There's still a little red clay from Oklahoma smudged on the door. Last week I was at the Choctaw (OK) Oktoberfest, performing on Friday and Saturday. Thank goodness the storytelling was in a tent (the Kinder Zelt) so I didn't have to perform in the rain. At that festival, I had bratwurst and red cabbage.
The week before I was at the KC Irish Festival, telling stories Friday, Saturday and Sunday evenings. I didn't have Irish food, opting instead for Scimeca's Italian sausage and a lemonade. Yum. This picture is from last year, but the fountains were dyed green this year as well.

Yesterday I was at the Kansas State Fair for a short set as part of a showcase of performers. Catfish afterwards--I don't think I've had anything quite that fried in years.

Telling stories at fairs and festivals is tricky. At some, storytelling is an add-on, something people stop to listen to for a minute or three and then move on. At some it's a small part of the children's entertainment, mixed in with crafts and bouncy houses. At some, it's well-attended and anticipated every year.

What contributes to a good festival experience,other than tasty food? Here are a few random ideas:
Advertising the storyteller specifically on the festival program.
Signs outside the venue showing the names of the storytellers and the schedule.

Scheduling at a time when there will likely be listeners.
A tent or covered stage for the performance.
Placement of the venue so that the storytelling is not competing with bands, roving performers, giant hot air balloons or petting zoos.
Good seating for the audience, close to the performer.
An effective sound system.
Bottles of water for the storyteller.
An emcee, or if there is no emcee, each performer reminding the audience to stick around for the next one.

What am I leaving out?

Home from Choctaw

I keep telling Joe Fish that he wouldn't really want to go with me on these trips, even if I could take him. What would he have done at the Oktoberfest in Choctaw, Oklahoma?

They moved the Kinder Zelt (Children's Tent) from its quiet space of last year to the main thoroughfare as folks came into the festival, just past the booths for food and beer tickets.

Behind the Kinder Zelt was a big field. At one end were bouncy houses and a giant bungee contraption. Closer to the Kinder Zelt was where on Friday they put up a hot air balloon (have you ever heard those burners? LOUD!) and on Saturday they had a classic car show.

The oompah music was only a little louder than last year, nothing like the sound bleed of the Irish Festival last week. Once again, the Kinder Zelt offered crafts, facepainting (I'm not convinced that acrylic paint is appropriate), sack races, egg and spoon races, hula hoop demonstrations. There was a helium tank for the high school students to fill balloons and make funny voices.

Oh, yes, and storytelling. Fortunately, I had some focused listeners, and the sound system provided was good. On Friday, there were two three-year-olds in particular who listened intently for a long time. On Saturday some of the youngest German dancers came to listen between their sets on the main stage. I officiated at most of the competitions, when I was on break from telling stories. I told German stories, along with other European folktales and stories from books.

It was far from an ideal setup for storytelling. I was crabby about it earlier, but after writing this, I remember that some of it was quite fun.

At the end of Saturday, I was wiped out. I dined on smoked bratwurst with spicy mustard, red cabbage and a dark beer while I watched the dancing.

I heard one fellow ask another if he was going to join in the chicken dance. "I can't." Long pause. "I'm not wearing a belt and my pants might fall down." When that dance was over, the band struck up "On the bayou," that classic German ballad. I wish I had pictures of one couple I was watching--they were quite good, well synchronized with lots of fancy moves, but the man looked like he was roping a steer! It wasn't just because he was wearing cowboy boots, either.

If I'd taken Joe Fish, he would have cowered somewhere, maybe in the booth where they sold giant beer steins and tee shirts, or maybe under the strudel booth. And he would have hated the six-hour drive there and back.

Festivals again

I performed at the Kansas City Irish Festival last weekend.



Festivals are a mixed bag. My favorites are storytelling festivals, because the sponsors usually understand what the deal is. They realize that storytelling isn't background music. They know that it's counterproductive to have the storytellers next to the petting zoo, or the fountains where children are allowed to play.


At the KCIF, I was facing the main music stage, next to these fountains, with my back to a wall shared by the children's facepainting and crafts. My sound system was good, so the audience could hear me, but the sound bleed from the music stage was so overpowering I could barely hear myself. I'm usually fine with distractions, but in this case I felt like I did a mediocre job. Sigh.

Next weekend I'll be at the Choctaw (Oklahoma) Oktoberfest. No, it's not a Native American festival--the town of Choctaw has a big German festival every year. Last year 35,000 people attended. At this festival, the storytelling stage is also in the children's activity tent, but it's far enough away from the music that all I hear is oompah in the background. I had a great time there last year, except for some car trouble.

I do lots of people watching at festivals. In KC, there were lots of men in utilikilts, children with temporary Celtic tattoos, women wearing "Kiss me, I'm Irish" tee shirts. At the Oktoberfest, I'll see plenty of lederhosen and dirndls, maybe some Tyrolean hats. Both festivals feature beer prominently (not for me, not while I'm working). I had a corned beef sandwich at the Irish festival. I'm sure I'll have bratwurst at the German festival.

At the Smoky Hill River Festival in Salina, I always have an Indian taco. That one is a huge arts fest, not tied to a certain ethnicity, and I always have fun there. Here I am in Salina this past June with my friend Mavis. She's the one on the left.

Festivals and car trouble

What a wild month! I began with the Kansas City Irish Festival, then performed at the Choctaw Oklahoma Oktoberfest (say that five times fast!) and next week will go to the Moonshell Storytelling Festival in Nebraska. Sounds like I'm always performing at festivals, though in fact schools, libraries and museums are my main bread and butter. I've got some of those this month as well.

As I backed out of my driveway on the way to the Irish festival, the car had a little hiccup. It didn't improve with driving. Fortunately, I had friends going to the festival about an hour after me, so if I got stuck on the side of the road, I could call for a ride. I did arrive at the festival and also got home (thanks for the escort!). I was relieved that I could borrow a car from my sister for the next day.

At that festival, I was booked for two ghost story sessions, one on Saturday night for older kids and adults and one on Sunday for all ages. Saturday was the better set, with stronger stories and less sound bleed from the main stage. The second night, I could barely hear my own voice. I knew that the audience could hear me (good microphone and speakers), but it was a struggle. This was the first time this stage was in that location--hope they change it next year. The organizers of the children's activities seemed as frustrated as I was with the sound.

I got the car fixed (new distributor cap wires and a new valve cover) and figured I was set. On Friday I got in the car for the five-hour drive to Oklahoma, only to find that it wouldn't start. Got a jumpstart from a friend and a new battery and off I went. Whew.

I didn't know what to expect from the Oktoberfest. I was pleased that there was a tent for the children's activities well away from the music stage. While I could hear the occasional oompah or yodel from the beer tent, it was not loud enough to distract. I told a mix of stories to kids and adults, some of whom were also doing crafts at the same time. The German Club from the high school helped with the crafts and I had great support from Debbie from the Chamber of Commerce, who ran the tent. I officiated at the sack races, hula hoop competitions and egg-and-spoon races. These were impromptu affairs, as in fact were my sets--I had no schedule for my four performances each day. It was steamy hot in the tent both days, especially after it rained. I don't think I've ever sweat that much during a performance. I had to borrow my puppet Trixie's handkerchief to mop my face. Never mind, I was having a good time.

After the first day, I sat with a beer and a bratwurst, listening to the music and watching people. Lots of men in lederhosen and women in dirndls. I would have danced if I hadn't been so tired. I went back to the hotel and slept.

In the morning, the car wouldn't start again. A kind man in the breakfast room jumpstarted it for me. Though I don't like being a damsel in distress, I confess to being afraid to jumpstart my car. I drove across the street to a mechanic. The fellow there diagnosed a dying starter. He suggested that I keep it running as much as possible.

At the festival, I parked in a way to make jumpstarting easy. After another fun day of performing, I had a half beer and a brat. Still too tired to dance. I turned the key in the ignition with trepidation. It started up. Good.

Not so good the next morning as I tried to start it to drive home. Another kind man from the breakfast room jumpstarted it, also thumping on the starter to encourage it. I was deeply relieved when it came to life. I didn't turn it off, even the two times I had to get gas and the one stop at a rest area. I drove it directly to my mechanic's shop. The next day I had a new starter. All is well.

Next week I'll drive to the Moonshell Festival in Nebraska. I'm looking forward to the performances and hoping for a calm and uneventful drive up there. My mechanic reassures me that the car is in good shape and should last for a long time, despite this little spate of repairs. Hope so!

Last week's busy-ness

It's a nicely quiet week at home. Last week was busy.

Tuesday was Wonderscope Children's Museum (second and fourth Tuesdays at 9:30, though in September it will shift to the first and third). I really appreciate having that regular gig, getting to see some of the same kids every week. Having structure gives me the freedom to try out new stories for little guys and audition new puppets.

Wednesday I went to two schools in Olathe, KS. One was an older school right near downtown. There were some 5th graders in the gym when I was getting ready, so I warmed up with the circular story, A dark and stormy night. This was one of those great schools where the teachers and kids join in. Even the principal did the call-and-response song My aunt came back with the kids. I love that!

From there, I went on to a newer school with a rock-star principal. Huh? At some schools, the principal is so well-liked by the kids they treat him like a rock star. This was a particularly good day: as a fundraiser, the principal had auctioned his job off, so the acting principal was a 2nd grader. She did a fine job introducing me and thanking the students for listening so well. The performances were the real principal's way of thanking the kids for doing their best for the standardized tests.

Afterwards, I drove to Jefferson City for the Mid-Missouri Storytelling Festival. It's a funny festival, with lots of driving to schools in the area. I went to New Bloomfield and Mokane on Thursday, driven by my friends Sarah and Angela from the Daniel Boone Regional Library. I'd been to Mokane a few years ago, not under the aegis of the library. When I was done with the show, I said the usual, "Stay sitting down and look at your teachers. They'll know the order you're going to leave the gym." The principal made a little hand motion for the kids to wait, and then she asked if I could tell one more story--one of the teachers had requested "Chickens!" No problem!

Thursday was gray and drizzly. Friday was absolutely beautiful. I was at two schools in Columbia, MO, hosted by Hilary from the library--she drove me around one day last summer, so it was old home week. I know I'm with the right people when it's okay to swap camp songs in the car on the way to a gig. These schools were the two in town where they don't always get the best test scores. Too bad they don't measure how kids listen to stories--they were excellent audiences at both schools.

That evening I shared a performance at the Columbia Public Library with Tom McDermott from Texas. I've performed at this library many times (they have a performance space in the shape of a big green egg!) and knew it would be a good show. Before the show, Tom and I played a bit of "Name that tune" with the audience--Tom's an excellent musician as well as storyteller.

On Saturday I hung around, having a relaxed breakfast with Sarah and Thom at the Cafe Berlin, then going down to Ashland to see Beth Horner perform. I love hearing Beth tell stories--she's always wonderful. Eventually, after a long and leisurely lunch, I made my way back home.

Now I'm puttering. I plan to tackle the pile of papers on my desk and kitchen table soon, and I may even vacuum. I spent some time this morning planting tomatoes and peppers. I'm always so optimistic this time of year, even knowing that I have a packed schedule and may not get time to weed or water.

Oh, and my new mower finally arrived! I splurged and bought a cordless electric mower, a Bully. I'm looking forward to mowing without so much noise and smell, and to being able to start the darn thing right away. It's charging now.