Monday, July 21, 2008

Notes from the Field (XI)

Stop and Smell the Strawberries

I love fruit! Just adore it! Sometimes I think instead of calling myself a vegetarian, I should be labeled a fruitatrian. Green apples – tart and crisp - are what I can be seen eating most of the year. But summertime brings my very favorite of nature’s sweet treats – peaches, plums, blueberries, and strawberries.


There is something about eating these juicy yummies that scream, “Slow down! Enjoy! Feel the juice run down your face, and between your fingers!” And just the other day, as I was savoring a bowl of mammoth sized strawberries (I always wonder if I should worry when they’re that big), I was reminded of two folktales where these succulent red berries taught huge life lessons.


The first tale is one that is probably familiar to anyone who has studied Buddhist, or certain yogic meditation techniques. A woman finds herself in the jungle running from tigers. She goes as fast as her feet will carry her, until finally she finds herself at a cliff that has a long vine hanging from it. Hoping to climb down to the valley below, she begins to descend, only to see that there are tigers below her as well. As both sets of tigers roar, she notices that there is a tiny, but persistent mouse gnawing on the vine. But then her eyes spy a small patch of bright, plump strawberries. She picks one, pops it in her mouth, and thoroughly enjoys it’s deliciousness.


I love this story, for if ever there was an example of “being here now” and “enjoying the present moment”, this is it. Faced with almost certain death, no matter where she turns, this woman is able to see the beauty that is in front of her, and instead of bemoaning what her fate may be, she relishes in the sweetness of that instant, by eating a strawberry.


How I wish I could say that I lived like that – not worried about the “tigers” I left behind, or the ones that may await me. To often the chewing that I do is not on a piece of fruit, but on a conversation – real or imaged - or a moment, probably long forgotten by everyone but me.


The second story is a Native American tale about a married couple who have a fight. The wife storms out of their home, enraged. After a few minutes, the husband realized he must apologize to his wife, and takes off after her, only to find that she is so far ahead of him, he can’t catch her. The Sun, whom the husband asks for help, shines down on the earth where the woman is walking, and a patch of blueberries appear. The wife ignores them, and continues her angry march. Next, the sun conjures up blackberries. But, still the wife walks on. It is only after the Sun creates a brand new fruit – strawberries, that the wife stops. As she eats the berries, her anger fades, and the couple reunites. Once again, strawberries save the day.


Now, I know as well as anyone, life isn’t always like the folktales I tell. Sometimes – most times – it’s hard not to let the “tigers’ consume you with worry, and it can be all too easy to walk away from someone who loves you, because you’re pissed off. But maybe, during this season where strawberries are abundant, and fresh, we can use them to remind us that life is so very, very sweet – and all we have to do is slow down long enough to see it.

UPCOMING PERFORMANCES

UPCOMING PERFORMANCES

The following list includes my public performances only. No school or private performances are listed here. Things change from time to time, so do be sure to check the schedule.

July 2008

7/11: New York Public Library (NYPL) Hamilton Fish Branch 3PM

7/15: Brooklyn Public Library Kings Bay Branch 3PM

7/15: Summit Library, NJ 7PM

7/17: Toms River Library, Toms River, NJ 7PM

7/18: Tottenville Branch, NYPL 3PM

7/19: Fort Washington Branch, NYPL 3PM

7/20: Monmouth County Library (in Shrewsbury) 1:30PM

7/21: Fanwood Library, NJ 7PM

7/30: Madison Library, NJ 10:30AM

August 2008

8/4: Glen Rock Library, NJ 7PM

8/5: Warren Township Library. NJ 10AM

8/8: National Storytelling Network Conference, Gatlinsburg, TN 8PM

8/18: New York Public Library (NYPL) Epiphany Branch 3PM

8/25: Keansburg Library 3:30PM

October 2008

10/15: New York Public Library (NYPL) Francis Martin Branch 4PM

10/18: Eastern Parkway Branch, Brooklyn, NY: 11AM

10/25: Ewing Library, NJ 2PM

November 2008

11/4: New York Public Library (NYPL) Hamilton Grange Branch 4PM

11/5: Melrose Branch (NYPL) 4PM

11/15: Afro-American Historical Society Museum, NJ 12-2PM (performance and workshop)

11/18: Pacific Branch, Brooklyn, NY: 4PM

11/19: Belmont Branch (NYPL) 2PM

11/25: Tremont Branch (NYPL) 4PM

Monday, June 16, 2008

Notes from the Field (X)

A Story About A Story

I will freely and willingly admit that when it comes to stories, I like ‘em short, fast, and funny - the type of tale that keeps a smile on one’s face, and a giggle on one’s tongue. Big, bright, musical comedy type affairs – that, as they say, is how I roll. So it makes prefect comic sense that a story containing none of the things I am normally drawn to, has given me more deep, rich, meaningful gifts than any of my “Ha-Ha” tales combined.


The tale of “The Spirit of the Tree” first came into my life when I was asked to tell stories at a wedding. A teacher who used storytelling in her classroom, and appreciated the transformative nature of folktales, contacted me through a friend of a friend. My first response was, “Wow! Cool idea! Of course I’ll perform for you on THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF YOUR LIFE!” My second thought was, “AAAAAH!!!!!!!!!! Me?? What will I tell?? What will I wear??”


I knew short, fast, and funny was NOT going to cut it – especially after meeting Jennifer and Richard. You know all those catch phrases like “made for each other” and “two peas in a pod”? That was them. She had those kinds of looks that screamed, “I’m a good doer - as beautiful on the inside, as I am on the outside!” And he had that “the guy who would always have your back” face. No wonder they fell in love with each other – I was smitten with them both.


I listened intently as they told me about their lives, their likes, and their families. I took more notes than someone studying for the Bar Exam. The part that really got to me, was the fact that both of them had just lost grandparents, who were very dear to them. “Their spirits,” they told me, “are still with us.”


To find the prefect tale for them, I unleashed my research loving side, and hit the books – HARD. Using my personal folktale collection (which is WAY larger than someone who lives in a one bedroom apartment, with a very tolerant husband, should be allowed to have), and the resources of the New York City, and Jersey City Library systems, I searched for the prefect story for Jennifer and Richard.


I found lots of love stories, lots of deceased parent/grandparent stories, lots of love stories about people who had deceased parents/grandparents. Most were beautiful, a lot were moving, a couple were almost short, fast and funny, but none, to quote good old Goldilocks, was “just right”. But we all know how those tales go, “They looked, and looked, and just when they were about to give up – THERE IT WAS!!” And don’t you know, that’s exactly what happened.


In a book I had owned for several years, but hadn’t looked at for a long time, I found “The Spirit of the Tree”. I don’t know why I didn’t discount it immediately, because at face value, it looked like a dozen other stories I had already rejected. It is one of the hundreds of Cinderella variants – young girl, dead mother, step mom’s a meanie- but what grabbed me is how the spirit of the girl’s mother, and not a handsome prince, is really who guides her to a “happily ever after”. Yes, she falls in love (with a hunter, not royalty), but only as a result of her mother’s guidance, and promise that, “I will always be there for you, I will always care for you.” Tears came to my eyes when I read it, and I realized it was the prefect tale not just for Jennifer and Richard, but for me, as well.


The mother’s promise, and love in that story, reminded me of the powerful blessing my late mother-in-law had bestowed on all of her children. I will gladly tell anyone who listens, that I married an amazing man – compassionate, intelligent, and loving beyond belief. His innate goodness, and that of his brother, and sisters, is a living testament to their mother, whose face always shone with pleasure and delight at the site of one of her children. Her death was, unfortunately, a long, drawn out affair, but because my husband and his siblings each got a very real chance to say good-bye, I feel like they were all encased forever in their mother’s love. This story, then, was a chance to honor the woman who had given birth to my greatest gift.


There were a lot of tears when I told “The Spirit of the Tree” at Jennifer and Richard’s wedding – but I had never felt so joyous. While I LOVE, and I mean LOVE my work with children, this was an opportunity to help seal a bond of love between two people who had already weathered loss together. That I was able to contribute, in even a small way, to their path of marriage was an honor I will always cherish, along with the loving memory of my mother-in-law.


Wanting this tale to remain a tribute to that happy couple, and to my husband’s mom, I sort of put it to bed. I didn’t often have the occasion to tell such an “adult” story anyway, so it was easy to let it slip to the bottom of my “play list”. I pulled it out occasionally, and once recorded it, along with two other tales, for the Cotsen Children’s Library at Princeton University.


Fast forward a few years. I was EXTREMELY flattered, honored, and floored to be nominated, this spring, by my fellow New Jersey storytellers, to perform at a Regional Concert as part of the upcoming National Storytelling Network’s Conference. If selected, I would be representing not just New Jersey, but the entire Mid-Atlantic region! The judging committee would need a tape or CD of my work, and even though I didn’t think I had a shot of making the cut, I popped the CD I had from the Cotsen Library in the mail.


“CONGRATULATIONS!!!” the email, that arrived some time later declared. “You’ve been selected to tell your story, “Tangiers Cinderella” at the NSN Conference on August 9th, 2008!!” Yeah! Yeah!! HUH?? “Tangiers Cinderella”? I’d never even heard of that story, much less told it. Chalking it up to a “miss-dial”, I sent a reply saying, “Sorry, wrong storyteller.” But another email quickly came back saying, “Maybe we got the name of the tale wrong, but not the name of the teller. We want YOU, and the third story on your CD.”


Third story? To my recollection, on the Costen Library CD was “Mommie Mouse”, a story for toddlers, “The Clever Turtle”, for the grade schoolers, and finally, “The Knee High Man” for all ages. I was sure of it. Positive of it. Certain – or was I? It had been soooooo long since I’d recorded that CD, and I had never listened to it. Could I actually have forgotten what I had told? I rose from my computer desk, and grabbed the CD. I listened as my own voice announced, “Mommie Mouse” – just as I knew it would. Jumping to the next track, the words “The Clever Turtle” sang out, again, in my voice, and, again, just as I had expected. But just as I was beginning to feel a little irritated at this “judging committee” – I mean, how could they raise my hopes up, and then mistake me for someone else – the words “The Spirit of the Tree” cut through my indignant silence. OOPS!!!!


I’d love to say, “and in a flood of memories, it all came back to me, and I laughed at the ironies of fate”. But actually, I felt pretty stupid, and wanted to kick myself for almost blowing a BIG opportunity.


So, on August 9th, at the National Storytelling Network’s Annual Conference, I will tell a story that is unlike any other in my repertoire - a tale that came to me through a loving couple I didn’t really know, and one that binds me, forever, to my husband’s family. I will happily, proudly, and probably tearfully perform “The Spirit of the Tree”.

UPCOMING PERFORMANCES

The following list includes my public performances only. No school or private performances are listed here. Things change from time to time, so do be sure to check the schedule.


June 2008

6/1: New Jersey Storytelling Guild (workshop on using American Sign Language in stories), Montclair, NJ 7PM


July 2008

7/11: New York Public Library (NYPL) Hamilton Fish Branch 3PM

7/15: Brooklyn Public Library Kings Bay Branch 3PM

7/15: Summit Library, NJ 7PM

7/17: Toms River Library, Toms River, NJ 7PM

7/18: Tottenville Branch, NYPL 3PM

7/19: Fort Washington Branch, NYPL 3PM

7/20: Monmouth County Library (in Shrewsbury) 1:30PM

7/21: Fanwood Library, NJ 7PM

7/30: Madison Library, NJ 10:30AM


August 2008

8/4: Glen Rock Library, NJ 7PM

8/5: Warren Township Library. NJ 10AM

8/8: National Storytelling Network Conference, Gatlinsburg, TN 8PM

8/18: New York Public Library (NYPL) Epiphany Branch 3PM

8/25: Keansburg Library 3:30PM


October 2008

10/25: Ewing Library, NJ 2PM


Monday, May 5, 2008

Notes from the Field (IX)

A CHAIN OF STORYTELLERS

“Run and run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man!!” Those words, and the story that they come from, are familiar to a great many people. But what isn’t as well known, is that “The Gingerbread Man” is a type of story called a chain tale. In these simplest of stories, there is a brief opening sequence that, once set, keeps repeating – adding on additional characters like links on a chain.


The Gingerbread Man runs away from the Old Woman who created him, then escapes from a series of animals who each ask the exact same question (can I eat you?), and each receive the exact same reply (you can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man). The “chain” finally ends with the fox, who makes a meal out of the sprinting cookie.


I love telling this kind of story! The repetition of the situations makes for a delicious rhythm that small children adore; and, as the “chain” grows longer, there is a natural escalation that brings the excitement level to a fever pitch. Kids love that they can begin to predict what the various characters will do or say, and quite often, these stories give me a chance to do something I love – to me unabashedly physically silly!!


But as much as I cherish these stories for these qualities, this month I found yet another reason to love them. I realized that as a storyteller, I was dab smack in the middle of a real life chain tale. I discovered that I am a link in a very long and hopefully growing chain.


About twelve years ago, following my relentless creativity seeking nose, I attended a storytelling performance at the newly opened New Victory Theatre on 42nd Street. This wonderful theatre’s mission is to provide quality, affordable theatrical events for family audiences (and they do – brilliantly. If you’ve never gone there – go immediately, and check out their website). I had never really seen a storyteller, and knew nothing about the oral tradition, but I said, as I always say, “Hey, it it’s an art form, I’ve got to check it out!”


Well, all I’ve got to say about what I experienced is – Wow! No, that’s wrong, I mean WOW!!!! Onto that stage walked Carmen Deedy, a Cuban American storyteller from Atlanta. She told an hour’s length story called, “The Peanut Man”, and as I sat there awestruck, I remembered the words of Bette Midler, one of my personal heroes. I read once, that the Divine Miss M said that when she saw Janis Joplin onstage she was blown away by her talent, of course, but also, that something inside her said, “I can do that.”


And that is what I heard, after I stopped clapping and cheering for Carmen, that is. I knew I had found IT. The way I could use my dancing, acting, clowning, energy, love of imaginative “out of the box” theatre. I had stumbled onto a wealth of tales that could take me around the world without me ever packing a single bag. I wanted to do to an audience, what Carmen Deedy had done to me – move them, and without fancy sets, lights, or costumes. And in that instant, I reached up and grabbed on to the storytelling “chain”. Carmen Deedy is my link to the enormous line of storytellers who have held audiences captive with their tales for years.


Now, I hadn’t really thought of things that way until this month, when, for the first time in twelve years or so, I saw Carmen perform again. Prior to her show, I told EVERYONE I knew about her affect on me, and that she was the reason I became a storyteller.


I was both nervous, and excited to see her perform. Suppose she wasn’t as amazing as I remembered? What if, when I went up to speak with her, she was a DIVA? Well, she was (as great as I remembered) and she wasn’t (a DIVA). I felt a bit like a groupie finally getting to go backstage with THE BAND!!! I told her of how she had inspired me, and how I was grateful to have a chance to tell her what seeing her had led me to – in short, I thanked her for being the link that had “hooked” me. And as I stood there, grinning like the proverbial kid in the candy shop, a teacher/storyteller I know, Ken Karnas came up to both Carmen and I.


“I wasn’t originally planning on coming today,” Ken said. “But from the way Julie talked about you, I just knew I had to see you.”


Now, at this point, I’d have to say that I was at a pretty high level of happy – what with actually meeting Carmen (who had grown rather mythical in my mind), and having other people I know get turned on to her, but then Ken said something that I may never forget. “Julie’s the first person I ever saw really tell a story – I mean REALLY tell it!!”


I looked at him, and I thought of the wonderful stories I had heard him tell at the New Jersey Storytelling Festival last summer, when we shared a time slot. I felt a sense of pride that teachers must be oh, so familiar with, and I realized that I was the “chain” that Ken had “hooked” onto. Standing between Carmen and Ken, is when I realized that I was living a chain tale that I was part of something that was at once ancient, and ongoing. I am, like every storyteller before me, and hopefully all the storytellers that are to come - a link in a very long, long chain.

UPCOMING PERFORMANCES

The following list includes my public performances only. No school or private performances are listed here. Things change from time to time, so do be sure to check the schedule.

May 2008

5/17: Afro-American Historical Society Museum Jersey City, NJ 12PM

5/7: Kips Bay Branch New York Public Library (NYPL) 3:30PM

5/9: West Farms Branch (NYPL) 4PM

5/10: Rector Park in Battery Park City, NYC 11AM

5/13: Wakefield Branch (NYPL) 4PM

June 2008

6/1: New Jersey Storytelling Guild (workshop on using American Sign Language in stories), Montclair, NJ 7PM

July 2008

7/11: New York Public Library (NYPL) Hamilton Fish Branch 3PM

7/15: Brooklyn Public Library Kings Bay Branch 3PM

7/15: Summit Library, NJ 7PM

7/17: Toms River Library, Toms River, NJ 7PM

7/18: Tottenville Branch, NYPL 3PM

7/19: Fort Washington Branch, NYPL 3PM

7/20: Monmouth County Library (in Shrewsbury) 1PM

7/30: Madison Library, NJ 10:30AM

August 2008

8/4: Glen Rock Library, NJ 7PM

8/5: Warren Township Library. NJ 10AM

8/8: National Storytelling Network Conference, Gatlinsburg, TN 8PM

8/18: New York Public Library (NYPL) Epiphany Branch 3PM

8/25: Keansburg Library 3:30PM

Monday, March 31, 2008

Notes from the Field (VIII)

An Unexpected Gift

Up until the last year or so, there was a tabloid called, “Weekly World News”. It was the type of paper that made the “The National Enquirer” look like a Tolstoy novel. Front cover news was frequently the exploits of Bat Boy – who was, of course, half man, half bat. Giant babies, tap dancing aliens, and a host of other unbelievable events graced it’s black and white pages. Waiting in the check out line at the Pathmark, I would flip through this “fine” publication, giggling and thinking, “How do they come up with this stuff?”

Oh, how I wish “Weekly World News” still existed – because, boy, do I ever have a story for them! A scoop more stupefyingly unbelievable than the capture and imprisonment of Bat Boy: Julie Pasqual and her sister, Valerie, go to a storytelling performance – TOGETHER! AMAZING!!!!

Now, you may think a visit from our brothers and sisters from the red planet to be an event unlikely to happen – but let me assure you, that next to what happened this month with my sister and I, having an alien over for lunch, is down right ordinary.

My family is large, especially for NYC standards. Six kids: three boys, three girls, with yours truly bringing up the rear. My mother pumped us out at fairly regular intervals, but even still, there is a considerable age gap between both my sisters (kids #1 and #2) and me. One of my few baby pictures show my two sisters, Pat (#1) and Valerie (#2) at ages twelve and ten, holding me with more than just a suggestion of disgust on their faces. One can almost see their thoughts floating above their heads in a cartoon bubble, “Oh God!!! Another one we have to look after!”

Because of the years between us, my sister, Pat, was off to grad school in Michigan before I was even in high school, and we haven’t lived in the same city since I was eleven or so. Valerie, though, was around more, and was, to her younger sister, “THE GLAMOROUS ONE”. Thin, pretty, and with an interest in shopping, makeup, and Cosmo, she made my friends gawk and say, “Oooh!” She had lots of boyfriends - frequently at the same time - and my youngest brother and I would often creep to the top of the stairs to hear her try to talk my mother out of going ballistic when she came in late.

But something seemed to happen as I entered my teen years, and she her twenties. She buckled down in college, and became a teacher. I fell in love with the thing that would define the rest of my life- dance, theatre, and performing. I won’t go into the MANY and EPIC battles I had with my parents over my choosing an arts high school over a Catholic School, or my electing to begin touring in musical theatre shows instead of going to college, or my moving out of my parent’s house, when they wanted me to stay at home. Let’s just say, a suomo wrestler in a tutu would have been prettier, and easier to watch.

Keeping my distance from my parents, though, came with an unforeseen side effect – loosing contact with my siblings as well. They were already older, so soon they were fully engrossed in their adult lives, as I was in mine. During this time, Valerie became a respected teacher, a wife, a mother, an author, and someone I didn’t know at all. Christmases, and the occasional Easter or Thanksgiving, was the extent of our communication.

That’s mostly likely how things would have remained, had my sister and her family not experienced a crisis. Maybe there is something to that “blood is thicker than water” stuff, because during this sad time, we began to talk. At first it was just about the situation at hand, and then it began to be about our parents, our family, and our lives. For the first time since I was about thirteen years old, I was actually telling someone in my family about myself. I was letting my sister in.

And this is where storytelling comes in. As I mentioned, my sister is a teacher, first grade to be exact. You’d think that with the amount of time I spend performing in schools, I would have visited Valerie’s class for a tale or two. Nope. I was too curled up in my self protective bunker to even entertain the idea. But one Christmas, two years ago, it came to me. Why not give my sister the thing that I had held back from every member of my family for decades - why not give her Me – well, for a forty five minute show, that is.

My performance, and our subsequent conversations about storytelling, gave my sister and I some common ground. I must admit, it was nice to know that someone who shared my DNA actually understood what the heck I did for a living. I came to learn that my sister had seen, and adored, the storyteller, Heather Forest, who’s books I owned, but had never seen perform. Imagine talking “shop” to a relative – MIND BLOWING!!!!!

When I saw that Heather Forest would be performing at the Provincetown Playhouse Storytelling Series (a great place to see some top shelf tellers, by the way) I marked it on my calendar, and I called my sister. Only my husband knows how huge a step that was for me. To freely, and willingly invite a family member into a part of my life that I hold extremely dear, namely storytelling, was previously a risk I wouldn’t have dared to take. But now, with the connection that storytelling had helped to forge, it felt like the only thing to do.

Heather Forest was wonderful, of course, and the audience, which was a mix of all ages of story lovers, was great to see. But the real gift that day, was sitting besides my sister. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to.

I have often said that I began my storytelling career as a way to combine all my artistic skills, work for myself, and have more control over my schedule, as well as my creative fate. I have gotten all that, and much, much more from the smiles, laughter of my audiences, and the deep lessons in some of the tales I tell. But, just this month, I do believe I got the best gift storytelling has yet to give me – a relationship with my sister.