Spinning Stories II - Ride Re-Cap
Like everything else in life, a good story is all about context. Things happen and you're left with a series of pieces waiting to be put together in just the right way. What happens first doesn't matter without what happens last, and the final words of a story only carry weight if they've been set up properly.
This is a key concept behind Spinning Stories, our storytelling series that brings authors and audience back to where each story first happened. Context matters. In the story, in the performance, and in the city - context matters.
And there's something powerful about contextualizing a story through its physical place in the world. Fleshing out a story with all the million little details that could never really be captured in words. A storyteller can't tell you how the water ripples or how the popcorn smells - as an art form, storytelling can only bring you so close to a fully fleshed out world - and that's what makes Spinning Stories so exciting. Because we can take you the rest of the way.
For this edition of Spinning Stories we had performances by Anna Kunin, Paul Canada Nemeth, and Ifrah Mansour. We rode a muppet-paced 13 mile route that travelled from Northeast Minneapolis, to Longfellow, and then ended in Seward.
Anna Kunin's story, A Chronic Return, brought us to Boom Island and was both completely unique and universal. It makes you wonder about the etymology of those words.
A Chronic Return speaks to the many ways that a place - Minneapolis, in our case - can change based on context. How a person can define a neighborhood, how an injury can define your life, and how everything ties together to become so much more than just people and places and limbs. Returning to a place you've known so well, but with all of its details just slightly tweaked. These are universal concepts, and as Kunin performed the audience nodded their heads in unison at the many insights her story unearthed.
Using these universal themes, Kunin played with the mechanics of storytelling in a truly one-of-a-kind way. Experimental cabaret storytellling is probably the best way to describe it, complete with musical numbers (above), clown make-up, and audience engagement. As she moved through the story, Kunin's playful movements forced the audience to run after her as she took full advantage of the open space provided at Boom Island.
As rider Mike Beck put it, "I never expected a story that touched everyone in some way." And with that, we were off to South Minneapolis to hear our next story by Paul Canada Nemeth.
Nemeth's story took us into Longfellow, to the Riverview Theater, where he was waiting with buckets of movie theater popcorn to share. Unsurprisingly, as a nationally award winning poet, Nemeth tells his stories like he is reciting poetry - with carefully thought out intonations, beautifully crafted phrases, and a rhythmic heartbeat that throbs throughout every line.
His story is about his relationship with a closeted, Evangelical boy, and the pervasive shame they both shared - although, not about the same things. The Evangelical boyfriend, predictably, felt ashamed of his own desires; a conflict that comes to fruition when Paul wakes up next to him in bed only to hear a whispered prayer for forgiveness.
Paul's shame, however, has less to do with queerness than it does with popcorn butter. If you'd like to know just how that works, stay tuned for our audio upload of Paul Canada Nemeth's story, coming soon. Without going into any detail, you'll never look at popcorn butter the same way again.
The real beauty in Nemeth's story is that he sets you up perfectly for a comedy and then ends with a drama, just like in real life. It's something that many storytellers strive to achieve, but for a prime example look no further than Paul Canada Nemeth.
Finally, we headed back up the West River Parkway and to the Seward Cafe for Deer Stew, a story by Ifrah Mansour.
Mansour's story took place in an apartment building right behind the cafe, and so prior to her performance she lead the group back to the spot where her story happened. Because people still live there, we had to be quiet.
After showing us the building, Mansour sat in the Seward Cafe's Greenspace and told a story about a deer's suicidal leap through a glass window and into her living room, and about the way her family dealt with the situation.
Deer Stew was the most conversational piece in this edition's line-up, driven less by narrative than by the charming way Mansour told the story and drew us into her family's world. She has a gift for putting the audience at ease and for bringing out the joy in a somewhat traumatic experience. We could feel her frustration as the police ignored her phone calls, and later, when they did arrive, we felt her father's disappointment as they took away his fresh deer meat. And through it all, we could laugh.
We saw the apartment, we touched the window, and we heard the laughter of children living there now. It gave context to the story in a way that would have been otherwise impossible, and now this space holds new context for those of us who listened.
But it's not just stories that gain context from Spinning Stories - the city itself gains new context from the stories we've heard. Like a good story, the city is a living thing, and with each new perspective you gain it becomes a little more full.
The next Spinning Stories takes place on Saturday September 27, 2014.
Every story happened somewhere. We'll see you there.
